The night of the election, she had Michelle set up a projector in her second-floor office, displaying the votes as they trickled in. Her office staff had been invited to attend, creating a small gathering of about a dozen or so humans and herself. That night someone had taken it upon themselves to bring out a celebratory bottle of champagne for when the votes displayed what they all knew was going to happen.
Zoheret, herself, was in a good mood. She laughed along with the others as she sat on the edge of her desk waiting with a pounding heart. Jesus, her driver, had poured her a glass first before he turned the bottle towards others and she gave the human a grateful smirk.
Tonight was the night the Brat Prince would be dethroned. It was Step One of his permanent removal.
The room hushed as the votes flowed in - slow at first, undoubtedly the human population in the know. Dozens of votes for Ben Samson for every vote for Jake. The prospect sped up her heart and she drank happily from her glass. But as the minutes wore on, Samson's count slowed and McCloud's picked up steadily. She pursed her lips and the joy in the room turned sour until the dark angel smiled. There was plenty of time left in the night for the numbers to change, she reminded them all. While they breathed a sigh of relief and returned to their joking, Zoheret's eyes hardened and fixated on the display before her.
When Samson hadn't broken away, she cursed under her breath. Fifty percent of the population totalled, then sixty, then seventy-eight, still with no clear winner. McCloud lead, then Samson, then McCloud rose again. Zoheret watched it unfold like a tennis match, anxiously willing the numbers to keep climbing on Samson's side. But as they inched nearer to a complete reporting, her good mood plummeted.
Twenty-seven votes.
The room was mostly silent as McCloud's name flashed in red and white on the wall in front of her, announcing him as the Central District Leader once more. Slowly, the eyes turned her way, their auras flickering with uncertainty and fear. Stiffly Zoheret smiled at her staff and put both of her feet back on the floor. The room took a step back from her, fearing her wrath. Zoheret sighed through her nose, that plastic smirk unsettled on her face.
Oh well, she had said, finishing her glass. No one else did the same. Nothing has changed, she told them stiffly. She would see them all back at work the next day. As they all filtered out of her home one by one, Zoheret maintained her composure if not her sobriety. She poured herself a stiffer drink of bourbon that she had, accepting no friendly affections from her staff and nodding at any of their attempts to relieve her tension. Thankfully, her human staff were seasoned enough to know when to approach her and when not to.
The screen was still flashing on the wall white and red as the last person left. She stared at it for a long moment, eyes flickering between the two sets of numbers as if she had made a mistake in her counting.
Twenty-seven votes.
With all of her strength and a shout of frustration, she hurled her whiskey glass at the wall. The glass shattered only after leaving a nick in the plaster, like an apostrophe between the syllables in McCloud's flashing last name. She slammed her fist down on the hot projector and cracked the plastic and metal. It was only as the machine spun off the desk and skidded across the floor in ruins did she realize that she had sliced her hand open on a sharp edge. Her golden blood oozed from the side of her palm, trickling onto her slacks as she stood looking at the injury with fury, bad decisions on her mind.
Zoheret flew down the stairs of the villa, grabbing the keys to the house and a leather jacket without stopping, placing the keys into the pocket of the leather as she swung it around herself. She yanked the door open and had only taken two steps when she widened her wings and took to the sky for the first time since she had returned from Greece. Her fury needed shedding and she was intent on ridding herself of it, following the coast south until she met land again.
---
She returned by car sometime late the next day and had been informed there had been a package delivered to her from the Ward immediately upon entering. With a throbbing hangover headache and a new apathy for the city and its civilians, Zoheret went directly to her chambers and didn't emerge until the next morning. It was a few days before she became aware of the package again. She hadn't returned to her office desk until three days after the election results and she had forgotten entirely about the package.
With a renewed sense of urgency, she picked up the package and knew that it was jewelry. Strange, she thought, ignoring the note that came with it to look at the jewelry. She was confused by the bright colors that shined cheaply at her. This was from the Ward? The engraving offered her no explanation either. J&Z? The only thing that came to mind was that ugly rapper who was married to Beyonce Knowles. Why would such a trinket be delivered to her from the Ward?
She opened the note and skimmed it for a few seconds before her eyes stumbled over the name. Her fist closed around the piece of paper before she really had the chance to finish its contents.
McCloud.
Zoheret groaned and flicked the bracelet off the surface of her desk as if it were some insect. Her face flushed with anger and she threw the crumpled ball of paper onto the floor, her thoughts feeding into the cycle of hatred and violence towards the re-elected Central District Leader.
"You son of a bitch!" She shouted, as if he would hear her. She pushed more items off the surface of her desk in her rage. Once again, she stood from her desk and turned to leave the room, giving the box and bracelet a good kick before she left Attica Villa.
