Blood and Kisses - By Karin Shah Page 0,57

roar diminished to a low buzz. “Is there anyone else who would like to nominate themselves or another as a candidate?”

Heads swiveled back and forth as each person looked to see if another would step forward.

Karla stood up. “I don’t want to nominate anyone. I just want to say that I am perfectly satisfied with the Champion we have. If there’s going to be a vote, I think it should be about whether we vote at all.”

There were some approving nods and murmurs. The tension in Thalia’s chest eased momentarily.

Mina sighed. “Very well. All in favor of holding a vote, raise your hand.”

Karla crossed her arms over her skinny chest, as did a few others, but the majority raised their arms.

Thalia’s ribs seemed to compress, preventing her lungs from expanding. If that many people wanted a vote, surely they would be voting against her.

Mina didn’t bother to count. “It seems there will be a vote. I’ll ask one more time. Are there any other candidates?” No one spoke. A few people shifted in their seats as if undecided, but eventually subsided, apparently unwilling in the end to take on such an onerous job.

“Fine. We’ll proceed. It would be better if this were a private vote, but in the interest of speed, I’ll ask again for a show of hands. Everyone who wishes Thalia to remain our Champion, raise your hand.”

Thalia held her breath as her gaze swept the crowd. Less than a third raised their hands. Her stomach lurched. She swallowed hard against the sick feeling rising in her throat. The Kents had been Champions for more than ten generations. It seemed like a bad dream. What had she done to deserve this?

“Everyone who wishes Heath to be our new Champion?” A forest of hands raised. “Those abstaining?” Two or three hands lifted. “It’s settled. Heath is our new Champion.”

It was over.

The room seemed to darken, and Thalia had the odd sensation that she’d ceased to exist. She felt as isolated and out of her element as a dolphin in a tank. How had this happened? What did she do now?

The short term was clear. No way would she allow Lily’s killer to escape, but after that, what then? She stepped back, and Gideon put a hand on her slender back. His touch anchored her and everything came back into focus. She straightened. She wasn’t going to let them do this to her.

“Wait! Heath,” she said loudly for everyone to hear. “I challenge you to a contest.” She turned to Mina. “If I can defeat Heath in the ritual of power, would that satisfy the council?”

“We’ve already voted.” Heath looked belligerent. His face was set, his hands fisted, his thick brows low and straight over narrowed eyes.

“So we can vote again.” Thalia lifted her chin and stared him down. He couldn’t have everything his way.

Mina glanced between them, her dark eyes assessing. She nodded once as if making up her mind and turned to address the crowd who were speaking excitedly amongst themselves, clearly taken aback by this sudden turn of events. “Raise your hands, if it is acceptable for the winner of the ritual of power to be our new,” she bowed her head to Heath, “or old,” she bowed her head to Thalia, “Champion.”

Every hand shot up. It was unanimous. Thalia had bought herself a bit more time. She wasn’t dead yet.

The ancient’s ultra-sensitive ears detected the rhythmic pat-a-pat-a-pan of rain hammering the roof of the Tomb. Gods, he loved that name! He’d thought it hackneyed before, but now it seemed perfect. Gideon couldn’t have known how apropos it would be. He smirked and resisted the impulse to laugh out loud. Nothing could dampen his ebullient mood.

He smoothed his thinning hair and scrutinized his reflection in the smoke-clouded mirror behind the bar. The glass was a bit wavy with age, and the silver had worn away in places, but it did the job. He looked a bit thin. He stroked his jaw. His skin was still elastic. He leaned forward over the sticky, scarred, teak surface of the bar to get a closer view. His eyes were beginning to sink in, but only the most perceptive eye would detect that.

Still presentable.

He hadn’t fed yet. His strength was running low. He could almost feel his energy bleeding away, but couldn’t remember being this satisfied. And it had been such great fun. The shocked expressions on the detectives’ doltish faces when he’d attacked almost compensated for the loss of their