Chapter 170
Though the Citadel might have been geared towards the vampiric nightlife, television programming was still the same. The later it got, the worse the shows were. Eventually, neither Jorick or Katelina could take it anymore.
They stopped at the restaurant again, but Katelina wasn't hungry. Jorick insisted she eat something, so she settled for a piece of cake drizzled in caramel. She supposed she should enjoy it while she could. However, in the last couple of months her stomach had shrunk and she could only stuff so much in.
She was full to bursting when they went back to their room. Inside felt like a cold, winter night, but the chill in the air had nothing to do with the temperature. Oren sat on the couch, ankle crossed over his knee, and an iceberg expression on his face.
"I wasn't sure you were coming back."
Katelina bit back a retort and skirted around both the vampires for the bathroom. Even after she shut the door, she could still hear them.
"And where else would we go?"
"It's hard to tell."
Jorick sighed. "This is as much of an inconvenience for us."
"You seem to be enjoying it!"
"And what part have I enjoyed? Having Katelina subjected to the whims of a selfish master? Do you think I enjoyed watching the tears roll down her face while he probed her mind? Or perhaps I've enjoyed chasing her down and peeling that clown colored buffoon loose from her? Or do you think I just enjoy revisiting a place that I left for a reason?"
Oren snorted. "If it weren't for her -"
"No! If it weren't for you and your wife and your sister! We're here because of your war with Claudius! Your sister started that war, if you'll remember, because she couldn't keep her hands to herself! And when the Executioners came, they killed your wife because of the laws she broke! She trapped your son into eternal childhood and the youngest as a baby for eternity, Oren! A baby! How many hundreds of years would you want to live, trapped like that? It was Jesslynn and Torina's self-centeredness that's landed us all here! I've stood by you because no one else would, but by God, Oren, I've had it with your inability to see your own faults! You're so quick to blame someone else when the person you should be angry at is the one who looks back at you in the mirror! You allowed Torina to be out of control! You allowed Jesslynn to turn the children! You let the war drag on and on, and when Torina derailed your second war to fight Kateesha, because of a feud over yet another of her bedmates, you went along! It was your choices and your choices alone that have landed you here, and I suggest you use the time until we're released to come to terms with that."
Katelina stared at the wooden door, her eyes wide and her mouth open in shock. Her hand acted of its own accord and opened the door wide enough for her to see the pair. Jorick stood over the couch, his dark eyes flashing fire, his hands on his hips. Oren was still seated, his face white, his jaw clenched and his fists shaking at his sides. His earlier anger was nothing compared to what she saw on his face now.
She gasped. At the sound, Oren's head snapped around and his burning eyes landed on her. He snarled and jerked to his feet. He pointed at Jorick. His finger shook with his fury, but no words came out. Finally, he bellowed, "You!" and then stormed from the room without even bothering to slam the door behind him.
Katelina stood motionless in the bathroom doorway. She had no more words than Oren did. Jorick was right. She'd just never expected him to say it, especially not to Oren's face.
"He needed to hear it," Jorick said bluntly. "He needs to wake up from the ridiculous fog he's wrapped in and see that he controls his own destiny. Rather than fighting a war he can't win, he needs to exert some control on those around him. Jesslynn's gone and he's in command now. It's time he acted like it. With command comes responsibility, not only to himself, but to those under him. If he wants to be a leader, then it's time he acted like one."
She couldn't argue, so she only nodded. Personally, she had very few nice things to say about Oren.
Jorick's shoulders sagged, his anger spent. "I'm sorry. Finish up, little one, and we'll go to bed."
She nodded again and disappeared back into the bathroom. She couldn't help but wonder if Oren would come back, or simply disappear. Truthfully, she hoped it was the latter.
Oren returned a couple hours later. Without a word, he took a shower and then shut himself in one of the coffins. Jorick didn't comment. Katelina could see his eyes shining in the darkness and wondered what he was thinking, though she didn't ask.
***
When Jorick woke her the next evening, Oren was either still asleep, or had left early. She dressed quickly, in case it was the former, and then she and Jorick went back to the sixth floor for breakfast.
They made it through the meal with no interruptions. Katelina wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. She didn't want to talk to any more of the Executioners, but she didn't want to go back to the room and face Oren either.
Regardless of her feelings on it, that was where they went. Oren was again seated on the couch. An opened letter lay on the table in front of him. It looked a lot like the "invitation" The Guild had sent Jorick.
Oren pointed to the paper. "This came for you."
Puzzled, Jorick picked it up and scanned the contents. His face clouded over and he dropped it back where he'd found it. "Malick requests my presence."
Katelina stiffened. "We have to go see him, again?"
"No," Jorick said with as little feeling as he could muster. "It's only my presence he's requested."
Oren stared at nothing, his face unreadable. "I suppose you'll want me to watch her while you're gone?"
Jorick only glanced at Katelina. "Stay here. I'll be back." Then, he turned on his heel and stalked out the room, anger in his movements.
She stared after him. She knew he had no choice other than to go; still it seemed she'd be safer in the lounge than alone with the King of Grumpland. She cleared her throat uncomfortably, and glanced towards the vampire in question. Should she say something to him?
The dark look on his face killed any would be conversation. In desperation, she turned to Jorick's tatty paperback. It was a modern cop drama with too much cursing and enough sexual innuendoes to fuel a porn company. The story didn't catch her interest, and she couldn't even keep track of the characters from one page to the next, but it beat the alternative.
As the minutes ticked by, the only sound was the rustle of the book pages and her own breathing. The tense silence was like a load of bricks on her chest. When someone knocked on the door, she fell all over herself to get it opened without thinking who might be behind it.
After she saw who it was, she wished she'd thought first.
