Chapter 280 Council's Dungeon

Chapter 280 Council's Dungeon

Music Recommendation: Don’t be Voyeur with Me- Michael Giacchino

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On their way to Darthmore, Vincent filled her with the information on how they had found three more dead bodies of people buried not too far from the Council. And one of them belonged to her mother.

Eve wore a grim expression, a frown on her forehead as she stared at the front inner wall of the carriage they were riding in. She asked Vincent,

“How do you know it is really my mother?”

Until now, she had believed that the skeleton they had buried earlier was her mother and with that thought, her mind had been at ease. It was partly why it was easier to leave the place behind so that she didn’t have any unresolved matters.

“The way the stitches were done on her clothes, it was similar to what I saw on your coat many years ago when you were small. The criss cross stitches is a little peculiar than the most I have come across till now,” Vincent explained to her, and he said, “Before I came looking for you, I had told Clarks to keep it aside so that I could reexamine it. I thought you would like to see her. And bury her.”

Eve nodded, not knowing what to say, and she stayed quiet. She knew for a long time that finding her mother wasn’t easy, as the bodies could be easily mistaken. She was a little relieved knowing Vincent had found the right one and had confirmed it to be her mother’s skeleton.

On the Council’s grounds, far away from the main buildings, was located the Council’s dungeon, which was more stringent than the other dungeon-like prisons. Located in the forest with just two floors visible to a layman’s eyes, but in truth, it had three more floors built below the ground. Guards surrounded the place, keeping tight security.

Noah Sullivan stood on the first floor of the dungeon, which was below the ground and in front of one of the cell rooms.

“What are you doing here, Duke Noah, when you should be looking after your town and people?” Sylvester asked the werewolf, who stared at him.

“You haven’t answered why you killed Fowler. Uncle James said he doesn’t have anything to do with it,” Noah stated, his calm eyes staring at the member of the Inner Circle. “Did you do it for your own benefit, or on someone else’s command?” He asked the vampire who was inside the cell.

“I did it for my own benefit. Fowler was trying to come between what I had planned, obstructing me and I thought it was time to take him out. Though a pity that I was caught,” Sylvester answered Noah with a small smile, and it was apparent to the Duke that the vampire was lying to him. “You shouldn’t worry about me, Duke Noah. I will be just fine. If not now, I will be out later.”

“You were thrown in here by Vincent Moriarty, do you think it will be easy to get out?” Noah questioned Sylvester, who only continued smiling with a relaxed expression on his face.

“He is another pain, isn’t he, Duke?” Sylvester questioned back, before he said, “Just because he is favoured by Clayton doesn’t mean his word will follow. Not when he can be dead or be placed in the same predicament as me.”

Noah’s eyes narrowed, “What did you do?”

“I haven’t done anything, young Master Sullivan,” Sylvester looked barely bothered with the fact that he was in the main dungeon.

“Whom do you work for?”

“James Sullivan. You ask the obvious—”

“I know you work for someone else apart from him,” Noah didn’t receive an answer from the man, as if he was tightlipped about the matter.

The smile on Sylvester’s face remained, somewhere proud of who this werewolf had turned out to be under his pressure and words.

Noah was only here because Sylvester was his mentor before he had even filled in his father’s shoes of being the Duke of Woodlock. It wasn’t his father who had guided him in the matters of the Council but this vampire. The only thing his father did to him was beat him so that he didn’t cross a line or breath more than what was required.

Noah’s thoughts went back to when he had already begun his adolescent age.

Many years ago, one day, a young Noah, who was the age of fourteen, had bandages around his fingers. He sat outside his mansion, trying to fix his bandages, when someone interrupted him.

“The bandages are worn out. You should change them unless you want to wear them for pity.”

Young Noah turned to look over his shoulder, noticing a man whose hair was pushed backwards and his face lean, red eyes carrying a hollowness with pale skin. The man offered a bowed, introducing himself,

“I am Sylvester. A friend of your uncle.”

Noah, who wasn’t in the mood to talk, stood up from where he had been sitting. He picked up the crossbow, which he had placed against the wall earlier. Ready to take a walk into the nearby forest. The adult man followed him.

“I didn’t know my uncle instructed you to keep a watch on me, Mr. Sylvester. It doesn’t suit a member of the Inner Circle,” Noah remarked, while he didn’t bother himself to turn around.

“Looks like you already know about me,” Sylvester looked pleased.

“I have ears and eyes, so do the servants. I also know you are the one who has been helping uncle to hide the bodies,” Noah stated with a dull tone.

“Impressive. I heard that you often like to get yourself in trouble. Do you enjoy the pain? You should rather enjoy the pain of others than damage your own,” Sylvester said, while their footsteps on the forest ground made soft crunching noise because of the dried twigs and leaves that snapped under their shoes.

“Is that what you do?” Noah asked calmly.

The young werewolf pulled an arrow from his back and drew it back against the bow, aiming at the small animal that hopped from one bush to another.

Sylvester stated, “As strong as your stance is, I can tell by the look of your position that your legs are in pain and your fingers in a far worse condition. If you do not like something, you swim with it, young Master Noah. Behave as they want, while also doing what you want.”

The young boy turned around. His arrow was now pointed at Sylvester. He asked, “What do you want?”

“A mere chat, nothing more than that,” Sylvester smiled with the same calmness as the look in Noah’s eyes. And though the young boy looked calm, the fire within him had not extinguished, and he let go of the arrow for it to fly towards the vampire, who stood not too far from him.

The arrow flew in the air and moved right next to Sylvester’s head before getting stuck in one of the trees at the back.

“Did you purposely miss your aim?” Sylvester asked the boy, a soft chuckle escaping from his mouth.

“I am still learning to aim. Next time I won’t miss,” Noah responded.

It was only the next day did the young werewolf find out that his father had decided to put him under the guidance of Sylvester to learn and understand the matters that would be useful in the future. And he learned many things from the vampire, forming a closer bond than his father.

Noah returned from the memory and heard Sylvester advise him, “You should go back and complete your responsibilities. Your family wants you to take the position of the Inner circle member and now there are two open. I hear that Vincent Moriarty has been hanging around a woman. His governess, I am sure something can be used.”

Noah’s hands clenched that the vampire didn’t notice. He firmly said, “It is time to stop using other people and focus on only the ones that relate to us. No need to harm the ones who are not involved.”

Sylvester smiled, “Mm, I forgot the governess is your acquaintance too.”

“Yes, she is. So let her off the hook and find something else,” the calmness in Noah’s eyes changed to a serious one.

“It is not I who decides. But I will see what I can do, if I come out of here,” Sylvester offered him. He then said, “You have been visiting the Council quite often. Worried?”

The reason why Noah kept visiting the Council often wasn’t only because of Sylvester, but because of the three bodies that had been dug out from near the Council’s building, and all of them were his Uncle James’s kill, where this man in front of him had helped his uncle in covering his tracks.

And Noah was aware that one of the three bodies belonged to Eve’s mother.

The day Eve had appeared in the Council on the day of the burial of all the bodies in the local cemetery, he knew that the person she had buried was not her mother. He had hoped for her to let go of the matter, and had watched her from afar.

But recently, her mother’s actual body had been dug out by the people of the Council. Before he could take matters into his hand to control the situation, Vincent Moriarty had beaten him to it, and it was under his eyes.

One side was the sense of duty to his family, whom he had grown up with. And on the other side was the woman he loved and wanted to protect from his own family. It was a never-ending conflict that had been eating him up from the inside.

Noah stared hard at Sylvester, wanting to find out whom he was working for, but the man was tightlipped and getting an answer was impossible. Noah said,

“Your execution date has already been set at the end of this week.”

Sylvester stared back at Noah and said, “I see.” And after a moment of silence, he asked, “Will you be there?”

“I will,” Noah replied.

Turning around, he walked away from the cell, knowing the next time he would see Sylvester was during the day of his execution.

Not too far from there, Vincent’s carriage moved closer and closer to the Council. Eve stared at the trees that passed behind them and said, “Do you think people can be turned to animals?”

“Some of the witches have the ability to do it. Why the question?” Vincent tilted his head, “Someone you want to turn into an animal?”

Eve shook her head and said, “Lastnight, Eugene and I met a talking cat.”

“Talking?” Vincent raised his eyebrows, and Eve nodded.