When the warrant for the councilman was issued who was one of the person in the higher level of the councilmen, four mens and Damien had gone to bring the man to the council where he would be placed under keen observance, questioned and would be put through trial in the court until he would be found guilty or not.
Everything was just a theory at the moment. Damien knew that he would find the answers from Creed. If he truly was working with not only the witches but also the switchers through which they were able to infiltrate into the council as well as the houses, he would be able to find a lot of things. But then at the same time it was difficult to get answers. People like Creed wouldn’t utter a word and would only mock until the other side of the person went through a series of frustrative episodes.
This only meant that the man was as good as useless being alive and killing him would only eliminate the possible threat that could further brew in the coming future. He wondered which way to pick it to make it look like the man had died out of an accident.
“Councilman Damien, are you sure head council Rueben sent us to search out Councilman Creed’s mansion?” one of his fellow councilmen asked in a serious tone and knitted brows.
Damien was bored to iterate it and swished the paper that was in his hand, letting the other hold the parchment of paper feebly in their hand as they travelled in the carriage.
“Wow, I would have never suspected. Councilman Creed isn’t like that. He has been someone we have looked up to,” another one spoke, not agreeing with the order that was written in there, “It must be some kind of mistake of yours,” he said to receive Damien turn to look at him with a blank expression.
He could tell that the man didn’t like him by the tone of hostility that was used with him. Damien didn’t care about it. It didn’t matter if the man liked him or not, “It’s an order sent by the head councilman. If you cannot do the damn job then you’re free to stop here and get out of this carriage.”
The councilmen was aware of this snobby pureblooded vampire. How could he not, he had stabbed one of his fellow councilman’s hand, “Do you think just because you are a pureblooded vampire you can speak to me like that? You aren’t even my senior.”
Damien didn’t hold his breath and he knocked on the window to call the coachman to stop the carriage.
“Kreme, open the door,” Damien ordered the young man who usually assisted him around with his work. Kreme didn’t hesitate but opened the door right away as he sat near it. Pushing it wide open.
Damien then said, “Out of the carriage, councilman Linguine.”
“This is ridiculous!” Councilman Linguine looked baffled at Damien and the rest. It was the middle of the night and they were pretty much in no man’s land as they were surrounded by nothing but forest. The temperature outside was a blistering frozen wind where frost could form quickly on the smallest hairs if exposed. It was so cold to the point that he could notwithstand it for far too long. Especially when there was no local carriage traveling this side.
“I don’t take disobedience well, especially when I am the one driving the case right now. Out,” he said with a calm looking face, waiting for the man to step down, “It would be ridiculous to take you along as you are unwilling to come along and complete your duty which was handed down by the head council himself. Now you either step out of the carriage so that we can go ahead or you comply with the orders that have been given. Which one is it going to be?”
The man gritted his teeth. If Damien left him out here in the cold, it wouldn’t be him but Damien himself who would be getting into trouble for leaving one of his councilman out in the dark when they were in the mission. Damien should be knowing that, thought councilman Linguine.
With proud air, he stepped out of the carriage. Testing Damien but without knowing who he was dealing with.
“Fine, I am out,” said councilman Linguine. Kreme who had been holding the door opening couldn’t help but shake his head over this man’s stupidity. If he was thinking that Master Damien was going to show him pity he was very wrong.
“Good. Kreme, you can now close the door,” said Damien and councilman Linguine’s mouth was left agape hearing this.
“What? Hold on!”
“Yes?” asked Damien, “I hope you have a good walk back home. Kreme,” Damien called the young man’s name who looked at councilman Linguine hesitatingly, “Do you want to accompany him too?” Kreme quickly shut the door close to the carriage. On the tap of the window, the coachman started the carriage again leaving the councilman behind out in the cold.
When they reached councilman Creed’s mansion, Kreme asked Damien,
“Master Damien, the man might die out of cold,” he said in reference to Linguine who they had left behind.
“He will be fine. If he has brains he will walk and come here,” hearing Damien’s answer, Kreme didn’t know how to respond back. It was a minimum of twenty to twenty-five minutes walk. As they had stepped down from the carriage, the councilman could hear some sort of ruckus that was taking place in the mansion in here. As if a thief had broken into the mansion.
A guardsman who was running around stopped at the sight of the councilman. Damien asked, “What’s going on in here?” he could hear people calling out to each other and alerting.
“Sir, Mr. Creed has passed away. Someone killed him,” the guardsman informed them, “The intruder must have not gone too far away,” he informed.
Damien turned to look at the men who had arrived with him who quickly scattered to start searching for the intruder. He said,
“Take me to where his body is.”
