9. Chapter 9 The Council’s Pressure

Chapter 9: The Council's Pressure

EVELYN

I stand before the supernatural council, the tension in the room palpable. The council members, a mix of witches, vampires, and other supernatural elders, watch me with scrutinizing eyes. They are the forces that keep the individual leaders of each supernatural group in check. This time, I face them alone. The usual support I feel from Alexei is absent, and the weight of their expectations presses down on me.

"Evelyn," Karla, the leader of the coven, begins, her voice cold and authoritative. "You are here to explain why we still have no leads on the murderer of our kind. Instead, it seems you are more focused on exonerating Alexei."

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. "The investigation is ongoing. The murders are connected, and we are following every lead to find the perpetrator."

Karla's eyes narrow. "Connected or not, Alexei is still a suspect. If you cannot prove otherwise, he will be punished for the murders of the Luminara witches."

"I understand your frustration," I say, trying to keep my voice calm. "But Alexei is in solitary confinement. He couldn't have committed the recent murders."

"That doesn't absolve him of the initial murders," another council member interjects. "What proof do you have that he wasn't involved in those?"

"We have found new evidence," I explain. "A piece of skin under the nails of one of the victims. We are running DNA tests to identify the killer. Also, Alexei left the bar with someone driving him, he was unconscious in the passenger's seat, and we are working hard to identify the driver too. "

Karla leans forward, her eyes piercing into mine. "Evidence is not enough, Evelyn. We need results. You have one week to prove Alexei's innocence, to find the real killer if you think he is innocent."

The room falls silent, the weight of her words hanging heavily in the air. I swallow hard, feeling the enormity of the task ahead. "Understood."

"See that you do," Karla says, dismissing me with a wave of her hand. "This meeting is adjourned."

I nod and turn to leave, feeling the eyes of the council on my back. As I step into the hallway, I spot Karla heading in the opposite direction. I quicken my pace, catching up to her.

"Karla, please," I call out, desperation in my voice. "Can we talk for a moment?"

She stops but doesn't turn to face me. "There is nothing more to discuss, Evelyn."

"I just need a moment," I plead. "I need your support. You know Alexei is innocent."

Karla finally turns, her expression hard and unyielding. "My loyalty is to the coven and to justice. Not to you or Alexei."

With that, she walks away, leaving me standing alone in the corridor. The rejection stings, but I don't have time to dwell on it. I need to act fast.

I return to the department, the weight of the council's ultimatum pressing heavily on my shoulders. As I step inside, the room buzzes with activity. Deputies hustle between desks, phones ring, and the air is thick with urgency.

"Sheriff," Deputy Sam calls out as soon as he spots me. "We got a tip on the line. A man claims he saw Alexei leaving the bar. He said Alexei was unconscious, and he got a clear look at the driver."

My heart leaps with hope. "Where is he?"

"He's at his place on Maple Street," Sam replies. "I sent a couple of deputies with a sketch artist to get his statement."

"Good," I say, nodding. "Let's hope this gives us something solid."

I pace the floor, my mind racing with possibilities. If we can get a sketch of the driver, we might finally have a lead. The deputies couldn't return soon enough.

When they finally walk in, their expressions are grim. Deputy Taylor steps forward. "Sheriff, we got a problem. The guy denied ever calling the tip line. Said he must've been drunk."

I frown, feeling my stomach drop. "Did he seem coherent? Was he really drunk?"

Taylor shakes his head. "He looked scared, Sheriff. Really scared. Like someone threatened him."

I let out a frustrated sigh. "Alright. I'll go talk to him myself."

I drive over to the man's place, the sinking feeling in my gut growing stronger. His house is a modest, weather-beaten structure on the edge of town. I knock on the door, and after a few moments, it creaks open.

The man, a gaunt figure with haunted eyes, stands in the doorway. "Sheriff," he says, his voice shaky. "I told your deputies I don't know anything."

"I just need to talk," I say gently. "Please, let me in."

He hesitates, then steps aside. I enter the dimly lit living room, glancing around. The place is cluttered with papers and empty bottles scattered everywhere. We sit down, and I lean forward, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.

"I know you're scared," I begin. "But we need your help. You said you saw the driver who took Alexei from the bar. That information could clear his name."

He shakes his head vigorously. "I don't know what you're talking about. I never called."

"Look," I say, my tone firm but kind. "If someone threatened you, we can protect you. But you need to tell us what you know."

He stares at me for a long moment, his eyes wide with fear. "You don't understand," he whispers. "They'll kill me."

"We won't let that happen," I assure him. "Please, trust me."

For a moment, I think he might open up. But then he shakes his head again, more violently this time. "I can't. I'm sorry. You need to leave."

"You know I could arrest you for obstruction of justice and have you locked up for a long time?" I ask, hoping that will scare him but he doesn't budge. Instead, he looks like whatever he is scared of is greater than his fear of going to jail.

"You can't lock me up for doing nothing. I just told you there's a mix-up, and I don't know what you are talking about. Please leave my house unless you want me to sue the entire department for harassment."

I stand up, frustration and helplessness churning inside me. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

He nods, avoiding my gaze. I leave the house, the door closing behind me with a final, echoing thud. As I walk back to my car, I can't shake the feeling that we're missing something crucial.

Later that night, I was back at the department, sifting through files, when Deputy Taylor bursts in, his face pale. "Sheriff, we've got a situation. The guy you talked to? He's dead. Shot himself in the head."

My blood runs cold. "What? Are you sure?"

Taylor nods grimly. "We found him just now. It looks like a suicide."

I rush over to the scene, my heart pounding. The house is surrounded by deputies and emergency personnel. I push my way inside, the sight of the man's lifeless body slumped in the chair hitting me like a punch to the gut.

"Suicide," the coroner confirms, glancing up at me. "Gunshot to the head."

I stand there, staring at the scene, a mixture of grief and rage boiling inside me. This man knew something, and now he's dead. Whether he was driven to this or if someone made it look like suicide, it doesn't matter. He's gone, and so, is the information we desperately needed.

Back at the department, the mood is somber. I gather the deputies in the briefing room.

"This isn't a setback," I say, trying to inject some determination into my voice. "We're going to keep pushing. Someone out there knows something, and we're going to find them."

Deputy Sam speaks up. "Chief, do you think he was really threatened? Or was it something else?"

"I don't know, but he did say ‘they' would kill him" I admit. "But we can't rule anything out. We need to reexamine everything. Every piece of evidence, every lead."

I spent the rest of the night reviewing the case files and trying to find anything we might have missed. The hours blur together, and fatigue sets in, but none of us are willing to give up.

I step into the prison, the cold air immediately chilling me to the bone. Ana walks beside me, her face set in a determined expression. The guards lead us through a series of heavy doors, the clanging sound echoing ominously. Finally, we reach Alexei's cell. He's sitting on the small cot, staring at the wall, but his face lights up when he sees us.

"Evelyn; Ana," he says, standing up quickly. "It's good to see you both."

I force a smile, trying to push the weight of the past few days from my mind. "It's good to see you too, Alexei. How are you holding up?"

He shrugs, attempting a casual demeanor. "As well as can be expected, given the circumstances."

I step forward and let him pull me into a hug. His usual smell attacks my nostrils. I didn't realize how much I missed smelling him and holding him close like this until that moment. We stay like that for a few more minutes as he rubs my hair gently and I hold him as close as I can. We finally break apart, and I smile at him.

Ana steps forward, her eyes softening as she looks at her brother. "We brought you some things," she says, handing over a small bag. "Books, letters. Anything to keep you occupied."

Alexei takes the bag gratefully. "Thank you. It means a lot."

We sit down at the small table in the corner of the cell. It's cramped and uncomfortable, but I try to focus on the moment, cherishing this brief reunion.

"So," Alexei says, leaning back in his chair. "What's been happening outside? I could use a distraction from these four walls."

Ana jumps in, eager to lighten the mood. "Well, remember that old bakery down the street? They finally reopened. I brought you a loaf of their famous sourdough."

He smiles, a genuine look of pleasure crossing his face. "I've missed that bread. Anything else?"

We spend the next hour exchanging stories, avoiding the topic of the murders and the investigation. Alexei regales us with tales of his prison routine, making light of the mundane details to keep our spirits up.

"And then," he says with a grin, "the guard tries to tell me I've been reading too much. As if that's possible in here."

We laugh, the sound almost foreign in the grim setting. For a brief moment, it feels like old times, just the three of us enjoying each other's company.

But eventually, reality intrudes. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the conversation that needs to happen. "Alexei, there's something I need to tell you."

He looks at me, his expression serious now. "What is it?"

"We found more bodies," I say quietly. "Vampires this time. Hung by their legs, throats slashed."

His face falls. "Another attack? While I'm in here?"

I nod. "Yes. And the council... they've given me one week to prove your innocence."

Alexei reaches across the table, taking my hand in his. "Evelyn, you're doing your best. I know that. I just need to know how feasible this is. The witches want my head; I'm not even sure I can prove my innocence to them."

"Alexei—" I start, the words catching in my throat. I didn't know what to say to him again, telling him I would find the killer in a week could be getting his hopes up when we haven't even found anything tangible about him yet.

I squeeze his hand, tears stinging my eyes. "I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," he assures me. "We'll get through this. Together."

Ana, who has been quietly watching, speaks up. "Evelyn, Alexei is right. We have to keep faith. We're closer than we've ever been."

I nod, taking a deep breath to steady myself. "You're right. Both of you. We'll find a way."

We spend the next hour talking about anything and everything but the investigation. It's a small respite from the relentless pressure, and it helps to remind us of all of what we're fighting for.

Eventually, the guards come to escort us out. I stand, looking at Alexei one last time. "We'll be back soon," I promise.

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'll be here."

As Ana and I walk back through the prison corridors, I feel a renewed sense of determination. Alexei's faith in me gives me strength. We exit the building, the sunlight almost blinding after the dim interior.

"Do you think we'll make it?" Ana asks quietly as we walk to the car.

"We owe it to Alexei. And to ourselves," I reply, my voice firm.