“Gone. When Marcus dropped the camera, it’s sim card was corrupted.” John starts going over the events. “On my end, I wanted to get confirmation of the entity – for our audience. So, I had my guys provoke the prince; Nathen warned me it was a bad idea. Yet, I went ahead with it, I understood that the prince needed a canvas sprinkled with blood. The candles were lit.”

  “You provided him with a meal ticket into our world, and wearing those stupid shirts of yours only heightened it.” Carlos growls, looking at John’s bright red shirt. “You offered up your energy, your equipment, everything that he could ever want as a conduit. You gave that son of a bitch permission.”

  John doesn’t deny it. Vukosava gives ascent.

  “So, you conducted the ritual – without any safeguards. How can there be these many gaps in your knowledge?” Carlos asks bluntly.

  “I searched it up online.” John shrugs in complete dejection. “I figured that would be enough.”

  Carlos holds his hands together, leaning forward to stare directly into his face. “Because of that – you left an opening where he could do whatever the fuck he wanted, and his dogs work on the same basis.”

  “I stand by what I said earlier, sir, my father is a representative. And I’m calling on my right to have a wyer address all of this.” John isn’t going to quit on his point, much to the annoyance of Carlos. “What is your stance on this?”

  Vukosava didn’t respond. Her fingertips are grinding against the desk.

  “Your actions caused your friend over here to call upon the only one that could actually put him back in a cage. The Red Queen.” Carlos concludes viciously. “How much do you know about her, girl?”

  “She was the one that he was utterly obsessed with. The first one he honored.” Vukosava shivers with the thought of Amber almost being lost. The number of people that couldn’t go home to their families enrages her. She’s seeing red right now, she couldn’t think clearly. It sickens her. The Eternal Prince, his dogs and all the damage they dealt.

  “Breathe, dy, breathe.” Carlos folds his hands together. “I know this feeling too well.”

  “I summoned her according to the legends; she was taken into the painting and thus I used that same process to bring her into this one.” Vukosava rolls her fingers across the table, focusing on letting the tension go from her mind. “I knew the location of the original blood painting, the one where Fodor and his close friends were turned.”

  “You’re well versed in the paranormal.” Carlos leans back, exhaling sharply. “It’s a shame that your common sense didn’t match it. As it is your right in this country, you shall have your wyer. Do you have his or her number?”

  “She has a great reputation amongst her peers.”

  “Obviously she’d have to, if you were involved.” Carlos flicks his hand. “Go on then.”

  John quickly goes through his contacts, flicking up and down in a hurry.

  “You don’t have to rush; you’re not going anywhere yet.”

  “Right.” John finishes his search, and soon enough his wyer, obviously a long-time professional friend of the Maxwell family, starts yapping. This entire process is thrown off, and if there’s to be sentencing it would be a long and arduous process. It’s a messed-up world, if one can make a mistake and not pay the full price for it. Being accountable is a thing of the past.

  “Thanks for your time, Miss Sincir.” Carlos begrudgingly hands the phone back to John. “You shall go.”

  He quickly departs, making his way outside. The group’s shock reaches through the door.

  “What’s going to happen now, am I being detained?” Vukosava asks emptily.

  “It seems you’re lucky.” Carlos sits there with her for the better part of an hour, typing away on his ptop. Alexi knocks on the door, rapping his knuckles against it.

  “Well, I believe it’s time for you to go home. Anything that has been discussed here remains here, if I hear a whisper of anything from any one of you, I’m paying you a visit. I’m not to be fucked with.”

  With that nice conclusive comment, she makes her way out into the parking lot. The groups argue with each other, pointing fingers and making accusations. John is in the center of it. Vukosava closes in, wanting to walk pass them back to her car and put all of this behind her.

  “What was that all about?” Harley blusters loudly. “That wyer shit.”

  “Look, the situation has been patched over, at least for now.” John appeases her.

  “The fact we’re not being thrown behind bars is good enough for me.” Nathen agrees. “We shouldn’t take any more chances.”

  James looks over at Vukosava. “We thought they were taking you away.”

  “They should've.” She couldn’t summon any passion in her words.

  Amber is standing firmly in pce, barely moving and looking around as if waiting for Marcus to suddenly emerge. It’s too much for Vukosava to bear, and she starts walking towards her car, gesturing for Amber and Harley to follow her.

  “Wait, Vukosava, what are we going to do now?” John asks. “Do we have a pn?”

  “There is no pn, we’re going home.” Vukosava replied ftly.

  “Vukosava is right. We can’t jump into another pn right now.” Nathen points out wearily. “Our families need us, as do our friends.”

  “You can prattle on about whatever pn you like, after tonight, I don’t want to hear a whisper from anyone.” Harley is still holding onto Amber protectively. “If we’re sticking our necks out again – we’re doing it the right way.”

  “There is no right way!” Vukosava cuts her off, her hand whooshing through the open air. “It’s done!”

  “Vukosava.” John whispers. “It can’t be done, not like this.”

  “If it’s not done, than what is it?”

  Her words sink deep into his skin and punch away at his heart. John doesn’t retort or offer anything in response; he just bobs his head briefly before walking away with Nathen and James. Neither of them are able to give words of comfort. Vukosava works her car keys through her fingers, still feeling the same anger she felt earlier; after clicking the unlock button she hops behind the wheel. Harley and Amber jump in the back without a sound.

  As she heads down the road towards their homes, Amber tries to speak but she can’t.

  Harley nods. “I’ll walk her to the door; I’m only a block away.”

  “You sure?”

  “Can I be sure of anything, I don’t freaking think so. That’s life.”

  “Stay safe, Harley.”

  “What are you going to be doing?”

  “I don’t know.” Vukosava shakes her head. There’s nothing more she can say. As she makes her way back home, she repys the events from start to finish, over and over. To the point that it’s getting hard to concentrate on the road – after a while of battling away she finally decides to let her mind rest. All the alternative routes she could’ve taken, all the solutions and knowledge. Vukosava couldn’t do anything. As she pulls into the driveway, the security lights hanging from the veranda go off.

  “It’s about time.” Dad is standing there with a cup of coffee in his hand. “How did your video go?”

  “Yeah, it went well.” Vukosava steps out of the car, trying to keep her face as ft as possible.

  “Usually, you’re a bit more animated than that.” There he is with his overly critical eye. He’s got the same dark hair that Vukosava has, the same relentless intensity that went well in his workpce. As the lead manager of the bottom floor of a switchboard company, he didn’t have time for nonsense or pleasantries. He cuts to the chase without missing a beat.

  “Dad, I’m not wanting an interrogation right now.”

  “You’d consider this an interrogation? I thought we were just making light conversation.”

  “Very funny. Can I please head inside?” Vukosava asks politely.

  “I suppose I wouldn’t be a good father if I let you stand out in the cold, come on up.” He holds open the door for her like a gentleman. “Your dinners in the fridge, sagna.”

  “Thanks. Thanks a lot.” Vukosava can hear her mother toiling over a crossword puzzle whilst humming along a jaunty tune. She’s got the dark hair from her father, and the lively eyes of her mother, in other words, she’s the perfect daughter. Or at least that’s what she should be, and if she was the perfect daughter then Marcus would still be alive. Her lips curl as a wave of emotion overwhelms her, tears bite away at her eyes, wanting to break free. If anger goes anywhere, it goes back to sorrow. “I’ll do the next one.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to worry, honey. You’re a busy girl.” Her mum looks up into her eyes, almost instantly she frowns. “Is everything alright?”

  “Yeah, totally. Just been in the cold for a while, got a bit of dust in my eye.”

  “It must’ve been a lot of dice, you did have eyedrops with you, right?”

  “Of course, I wouldn’t dream of forgetting it.” Vukosava excuses herself to the kitchen to retrieve her dinner. The microwave beeps along with her thoughts. With the steaming bowl in hand, she races up to the stairs to her bedroom, setting it down before flinging herself onto her bed, looking up at the ceiling for a very long time. Her personal whiteboard shines in the dark, as the moonlight passes through the curtains.

  With all the different locations done in bck, with red ticks marking off each one.

  She couldn’t bring herself to look at it. She should eat something, but she’s not hungry. How could she be? There’s going to be an announcement on the television, for all to see. Vukosava solemnly eats her food, wanting to melt through the floor. With some anger, she crosses out the Eternal Castle from her whiteboard before burying herself under the covers.

  The next few days pass without incident, and Vukosava almost believes her life is normal. That she could ring Marcus and Amber talking about the edits and the progress on uploading the video. Making sure it’s crisp and well-paced. Usually, with all the filming done, she’d have a week to go through it. An editing cycle with hours spent hunching over the desk. Normality. What a dream that is.

  As she fades away, her mind goes back to those terrible moments. It’s a warning sign, fshing right in her face. Taunting her, saying to her, why didn’t you stop it? Why didn’t you wave it off? Vukosava couldn’t get peace, not even in her own mind.

  It’s a week of complete and utter hell that flies by, dragging Vukosava all over the pce with relentless brutality. The news stations are all over it. Breaking News! A night ends in tragedy! She couldn’t believe it, there’s always been stories like this in the news, but she never thought that one of those would happen to those that she loves dearly, let alone herself.

  Her dad is looking at the television wordlessly, taking it all in with silence.

  “A violent gang causes mayhem in the local region.” The reporter on site starts walking over to some trees far away from the original site. Where the Eternal Prince and his dogs ran wild.

  “I can’t believe this.” Vukosava falls into the tight embrace of her mother. She’s not going to let go of her daughter. The most precious thing she has in this world. There’s shock and sadness battling away in her eyes. Her words ringing with sorrow. “Marcus is a lovely gentleman. How could this happen?”

  “Mum.”

  “He doesn’t deserve this.” Mum is holding Vukosava even tighter. Her left-hand clutching at her heart. “He’d never y a finger on anyone. Always doing right by others, caring for Amber. Making sure she felt heard and looked after.”

  “We’ll find out.” Dad is holding his hands in his p. His brow furrowing. “Damn.”