Tea, Lycanthropy and Other Virtues

Chapter Forty-Eight

"Look at all of them," Edward said, his eyes on the streets below.

Sweat trickled down Constance's back. She was afraid to look. Instead, she glanced at Emile, pressed to the side of the cage closest to Constance, her long pale fingers pressed into her temples in pain.

"I'm sorry," Constance whispered to her.

Emile spared her a glance and then looked away. Baines was still holding Hannah's arm, but he was gazing at the streets, his eyes feverish. She thought she saw Hannah slip her fingers into Baines's jacket pocket, but she couldn't be sure. The night was so dark.

Constance finally looked at the avenue. It was crammed with bodies. Men, women, even a few children. They paced anxiously, undulating like an angry sea. Colors stained the air. It hurt Constance's eyes to gaze at it for too long.

Baines turned to her. "I want them angry, seething. I want them mad with fury."

Constance's stomach knotted. "I can't do that. I can only wield positive emotions, or emotions that will make them tired."

"I don't believe you." He walked back to the corner where Gran sat, dragging Hannah with him.

He kicked the old woman in the side. Gran fell back under the blow. Constance lunged toward them, but Edward held her back.

"Stop!" Hannah screamed, trying to pull Baines away from the old woman.

"Doesn't it make you angry, Constance?" Baines said through gritted teeth.

Constance's chest was heaving. Gran looked so small curled into a ball in an effort to protect herself.

He kicked her again. Emile hissed something in French, and Constance strained against Edward, blood pounding through her head.

"It must be so frustrating," he said, sending his foot into Gran once more. "To have such power but still be powerless."

"Please," Constance sobbed.

Hannah was struggling against Baines. He turned to her and struck her hard across the face, specks of blood flew out of her mouth.

"You can't even protect these two women."

Constance's head was spinning. She'd promised Hugh.

"Get angry, Constance, or I'll do even worse to the mongrel's sister." He grabbed Hannah's face with his free hand, his fingers squeezing into her cheeks.

Anger and desperation clawed at Constance's chest. Emile began throwing herself against the bars of her cage.

"That's right," Baines said, noting the vampire's lengthening fangs, her dilated pupils.

Noise was rising in the streets.

He shoved Hannah to the floor. Hannah moved to shield Gran with her own body, but Baines had already stalked back to Constance.

"I can do whatever I want to whomever I want." He placed his hand on Constance's neck and squeezed slightly. "I'm protected by my rank, my fortune, and my sex." He leaned in. "You have no rights here. No power at all. How angry does it make you, Constance?"

White-hot rage exploded through her. She felt it burst from her chest, expanding outward in a ring. Don't bring the supernaturals to the bell tower. They'll hurt Hannah and Gran, was her last coherent thought.

She barely heard the sound of howling, glass shattering and people screaming as footsteps tore through the night. None of that mattered. All that mattered was the current crashing over her. Like the river by her cottage in Spring she was helpless to fight it. Instead, she let it sweep her away.