Third Person.
A gasp rippled across the room. One of the officers leaned forward. "Sir, how do we explain this attack? We can’t tell the public about vampires. They will panic."
Brackham’s lip curled into sothing almost like a cold, triumphant smile.
"We won’t ntion vampires. We don’t need to. We will inform the public that we have uncovered a dangerous weapons stockpile hidden in the forest—foreign smuggling rings, rcenaries, or whatever na you prefer. Say it was a national threat, and we eliminated it before it reached their streets."
The n exchanged uneasy looks, but no one dared challenge him.
"Draft the orders," Brackham barked. "By dawn, I want the first sweep prepared. The woods will burn, and with them, every last leech skulking in the dark."
Everyone exchanged silent glances, but Brackham cared about none of that.
"How many explosives do we have staged for the eastern woods sweep?" He suddenly barked.
The officer at the table swallowed, his fingers fumbling with a tablet. "Not enough, sir. We have so—" His voice faltered. "But not the amount needed to guarantee a full burn."
Sothing in Brackham’s hand clenched. He rose swiftly and crossed the room before the man could react.
Fingers closing on the fabric at the base of the man’s collar, he hauled him forward until their faces were inches apart. Rainlight cut across the mayor’s eyes, turning them hard as flint.
"Tomorrow night," Brackham hissed, every word coming out as sharp as a razor, "Eastern woods must be reduced to ash. Do you understand ?"
The man’s lips trembled. "Y—yes, sir. We will—"
"Then make it so," Brackham snapped. "If I wake and find one patch still standing because of your incompetence, I will make sure your head hangs as an example."
His grip didn’t loosen until the man’s nod was violent and unquestioning.
Brackham released him with a shove that sent the officer stumbling back into his seat. He turned slowly, letting a hard glance sweep the room—a warning in his wake.
Then he strode away, the heels of his shoes beating against the marble. His secretary fell into step behind him, clutching a sheaf of papers; the others remained rooted, eyes downcast, already composing excuses they would never dare voice.
---
Brackham stord into his office, his secretary hurrying at his heels. She clutched her clipboard to her chest, speaking quickly, "Sir, the senators are waiting."
He didn’t break stride. With a curt wave of his hand, he dismissed her concern and moved straight to the sitting area.
The leather groaned under his weight as he sank into it, one arm draped along the backrest.
"Put them through," he ordered.
The secretary nodded, flicking on the large screen mounted on the far wall. A mont later, faces appeared in neat squares—senators from across the city, their expressions tense.
"Good evening, Mr. Mayor," they greeted in unison, their voices tinged with unease.
Brackham’s gaze was cold as stone. "Spare the pleasantries. You have heard by now that our shipnt was hit. The weapons are gone. Stolen mid-transit." His voice rumbled like distant thunder. "By vampires."
The word landed like a crack across the conference call.
A heavyset senator leaned forward, wiping sweat from his brow. "If that’s true, then they know more about us than we actually thought. To strike at the right ti and at the right place twice in a row, they must have been watching us for the longest ti."
Another, a woman with sharp eyes, shook her head. "No, this is worse. If they have taken our weapons, it may not be about sabotage. What if they plan to study them? Use them? Turn them against us?"
Her voice pitched higher, alarm slicing through the silence. "Can you imagine vampires ard with human guns?"
The murmurs rose, square after square, lighting with speculation, fear, and suspicion.
Just then, Brackham’s hand slamd against the armrest. "Enough!"
The chatter died instantly. His glare swept over the screen, daring anyone to keep speaking.
"You sit there, filling the air with panic and pointless theories. Do you think I summoned you to listen to your trembling? You only anger the more."
The silence was thick, every senator avoiding his eyes, which was unlike them.
When Brackham finally spoke again, his voice was low, coiled tight with nace.
"Regardless of what those leeches plan to do with our weapons, it changes nothing. Tomorrow night, the eastern woods will burn. I don’t care to catch one of them alive. Not one. I will see them all reduced to nothing."
No one tried to argue with him, though unease rippled across their faces. They were thinking it, of course, that this was madness, that fire could not solve everything. But no lips moved. No one challenged him.
At last, an older senator cleared his throat. "About the eting with Beta Jeffery and his team tomorrow, regarding the investigative group for the black market—"
"There will be no eting!" Brackham barked, rising from his seat with sudden ferocity. "Not tomorrow. Not until the vampires are wiped out."
His eyes burned as he leaned closer to the cara. "After all, that so-called investigative group is nothing but a complete waste of ti, a stall designed to keep Alpha Draven entertained."
The senators bowed their heads, refusing to say another word.
Then one by one, their faces flickered off the screen until only black squares remained.
The room was silent except for the hiss of rain against the windows. Brackham stood there a mont longer, fists clenched, breath ragged with barely contained fury.
Behind him, his secretary hesitated before speaking softly. "Sir... your daughter called again. She asked when you would be returning ho."
Brackham turned his head slowly, his expression twisting into a sneer. "Do I look like I should be caring about a child from a love affair right now?"
The woman’s throat bobbed as she swallowed, shaking her head quickly. "No, sir."
"Then get out!" he roared, the words cracking like a whip.
She flinched, clutching her papers tight to her chest as she hurried from the room.
The door shut behind her with a hollow echo, leaving Brackham alone with the storm and a heart too consud by war to spare even a thought for his own blood.
Reviews
All reviews (0)