My eyes panned the room of smiling faces all staring at me and landed last on John David.
“Coffee?” he asked.
My head was spinning, but I was starting to put it together. I’d had the fright of my life and been punked by the entire village. My entire village. Including Keir. My face must’ve been as red as Lorca’s fake blood.
“J… J… Jeff. You’re a…?”
“Lorcan,” he said. “A true shapeshifter. You name it. I can be it.”
“Wow.”
Keir slipped in beside me and put his arm around me. I wanted to smack him, but remembered how much it had hurt the last time I’d tried that. And I’m no masochist.
As the initial shock began to wear off, I managed a smile through gritted teeth and whispered in his ear. “That was so mean. Tonight you’re sleeping on the couch in your room with all those TV monitors for company.”
He laughed. “Oh, come on. It was all in good fun. It just means everybody likes you.”
“Yeah? Well, maybe I want to be liked a lot less.”
People were filing out, heading downstairs to have a parting cup of coffee and share more laughter about the look on my face when I’d thought John David had ripped poor Scarlet’s throat away and casually picked his teeth with a toothpick.
On the way home, Keir said, “You really were a good sport, love.”
“You only think that because first, you don’t think I was serious about you sleeping on the couch and, second, you don’t yet understand the width and depth of my need for payback.”
“Should I be worried?” He smiled.
“If you’re smart. While everybody was laughing, I was plotting.”
“So, you really didn’t have a good time?”
“I wouldn’t say that. Exactly. But claiming it was all in fun won’t save any of you from what’s to come. It’s on now. It may take years, but someday, when you least expect it, I will be there like a goddess of retribution.”
“Very dramatic.”
“You only think it’s dramatic because you haven’t been on the other side of the joke. Just wait.”
“I guess I don’t have a choice.”
I grinned wickedly. “That’s right.”
The Trials Begin
CHAPTER ELEVEN Jitters and Judgment
“It’s a good thing I look good in red,” I said as I turned to the side to check myself out in the full-length mirror in my chambers at the Tregeagle court. Traditionally, magistrates had always worn scarlet. I supposed I could’ve made a play for a color change, but why do that if it works? I was thinking that the eight pounds I’d dropped, probably because of Keir Culain’s ‘nocturnal exercise regime’, was completely hidden by the flowing robe. Realizing that Keir had said nothing, I spoke to his image in the mirror without turning around. “Nothing to say?”
“Was there a question?”
I chuffed and faced him. “I do look good in this, right?”
The big smile that made him otherworldly gorgeous also looked genuine. “I’m not the best person to ask.” He shrugged. “I’ve never seen you look anything less than spectacular, clothed or unclothed.”
Wow. The boy was good for my ego. Seriously thinking about keeping him.
“Seriously. I’m trying to calm my nerves by assuring myself that I at least look okay.”
All the time I’d spent with my hair was thoroughly undone by the gale of a wind in Hallow Hill. I’d gotten ready ten minutes early so that I could hurry across the way and give my pups a little cuddle before I left. I wouldn’t want them to think I forgot about them. Lochlan’s door was less than two minutes’ walk from mine, but that’s all it took. Lochlan told me word on the street was that Fie’d had a spat with Olivia. He seemed to think that was enough said. I gathered that when Fie’s emotions weren’t under control, neither was the wind.
“First, I was being serious,” Keir said. “Second, you look far better than okay. Third, no cause for nerves. Nerves are for people who aren’t in complete control. Your power at court is close to absolute.”
“Close to?”
“Of course, you would focus on that. The little bit that’s left up for grabs is covered by me.”
I smiled with pride. “My enforcer.”
“Technically I’m the court’s enforcer. The bailiff really, but let’s not quibble.” He smiled his best cat smile. “Because I am yours.”
Hearing a light knock on the door, I raised my voice and said, “Come in!”
Lochlan smiled at me, nodded at Keir, and closed the door behind him. During the twenty seconds while the door was open, I heard the combined din of a large crowd in conversation.
“Lochlan. That sounds like a lot of people out there.” My nerves jacked.
He shrugged. “To be expected. It’s natural for people to want to get a look at the new magistrate.” He looked me up and down. “They won’t be disappointed. You look every inch like you were born for this.” He chuckled. “And I guess you were. The Powers That Be probably had you in mind before you were conceived.”
“That sounds very airy fairy, Lochlan.”
Lochlan’s face was somehow still pleasant looking even when he scowled. “What is ‘airy fairy’?”
While I was trying to decide how to answer that, I heard fanfare. Not a recording. That was clearly an announcement made with wind forced through actual brass instruments.
Lochlan came to full attention and forgot all about everything but the sound of the horns.
“Get ready,” he said. “The dignitaries are being seated.”
I’d thought I had my nerves under control, but when faced with the reality of my new life (the real reason I was there), I found that I was oh so wrong. Two fingers went to my throat reflexively to see if my heart was beating as fast as I thought it was.
Keir must’ve seen the color drain from my fact, or some other indicator that I was experiencing an acute case of stage fright. He stepped closer. “You were born for this. Every single hours of every single day of your life has resulted in the cumulative experience that made the Powers choose you. Out of billions. Just remember that, in your courtroom, you’re the Man.” His pep talk had been going so well, but seeing the look on my face change, he tried to backpedal. Fast. “You know what I mean.”
Unfortunately, I did know what he meant. And hella resented it.
“Ready?” Lochlan had moved to the door and was holding it open.
No. No, I wasn’t.
“Is Sprigley here?”
“Yes,” said Lochlan. “Here and at your service.”
Over the past few weeks I’d given some thought to my own journal legacy and decided to implement twenty-first century advantages, like my version of a court reporter. I’d decided that if someone would record and transcribe the proceedings in word processor format, it would be easy for me to annotate later. The final product would be an exact reproduction of what took place, along with my notes on how and why decisions had been made.