Councilman Hayes’s voice rang out. “Now, defendant.”
8
I ground my teeth and sent Roger a promise of certain payback. To my credit, he did pale just a touch.
Getting to my feet, I fumbled with the opening words. “Thank you uh… Council. Oh, and the court. Yeah, thanks.” I needed water. Why was my throat so fucking dry? When was the last time I’d eaten?
The nine immortals waited with dispassion. Only one of them, the shifter to the right of Hayes, looked at me with icy blue eyes that conveyed a level of attention. And a touch of kindness.
But I couldn’t focus on him. I had to keep my attention on Hayes, or I’d lose my shit altogether.
I swallowed. “I received a request form from Mr. Creed to visit his apartment. In the form, he’d claimed his safe had been tampered with. My name was listed on the form, though I’d never heard of or met a Mr. Creed in my life.”
If my blood pressure could settle down, that would be great.
“I took the train — you probably don’t care how I got there, but too bad — and it smelled generally like feet, gasoline and urine. Just setting the scene, sorry. I got off and walked to the apartment structure. There may have been a dead body in the alley, but I’m pretty sure it was just a homeless person. Very, very sorry if it wasn’t. I make it a habit of avoiding downtown alleys when I’m alone.”
I paused and swept my gaze across the line of judges. None spoke, so I continued. “On the form, there had been a box checked. The one that gives contractors the consent to enter their home even if they don’t answer. As you also probably know, my job wouldn’t have been finished unless I made contact with Mr. Creed. After a long time, he still didn’t answer my buzz at the front gate, so I, uh… used initiative and got inside. I found his apartment and knocked, called out to him, and waited, but he never answered.
“It was my very first solo job, and I wanted to do it well, you know? I called my coworker, Marigold, who’d seen the form and advised me to get inside the apartment if I could, and so —”
Roger sprung to his feet. “Thank you, Miss King! Thank you!” He shoved my dumbfounded ass back into the chair. “The Union wishes to ask Mr. Derrick Creed why he, a shifter and official member of the regional Tolores Pack, submitted a request form to the Union, an establishment for Cuts?”
After some muttering between lawyer and client, Mr. Creed stood. “I have several half-cousins who work for the Union. My safe had been tampered with, and although my first thought was to file a report with my pack, they have been recently focused on disappearances and overdoses in the community. Knowing their resources were stretched thin, I reached out to the Union. I enjoy supporting the Cuts, and believe they are excellent workers. However, in regard to Miss King’s,” his teeth bared as he said my name like a curse, “testimony, I had not checked the consent box. Nor had I specifically requested her, either. She is a stranger to me. Furthermore, there is no way would I allow a stranger, even a contractor, to enter my home without my knowledge.”
“You liar!” I accused.
“Hold your tongue, Cut!” Councilman Hayes commanded. “Another outburst from you and this trial will be over. It shall not be found in your favor.”
I bit my lip. Councilman Hayes didn’t appear upset, though. He looked positively pleased that I’d stepped out of line, if the slight smile and cruel gleam in his eye was significant.
Fuck these immortals to hell.
I gave him a tight grimace and a nod.
The Councilman addressed Mr. Creed with a hundred more degrees of kindness. “Go on. I must ask that you ignore the hostile defendant.”
I shifted in my chair, forcing myself to hold back another pissed-off remark.
Mr. Creed continued. “I was in my lair when I heard noises. I was nervous, and not expecting any company, so I shifted into my wyvern form.”
He covered his mouth and closed his eyes, as if taking a moment to recover his emotions. He took a deep, strained breath and said, “She was like a walking wrecking ball. I was surprised and territorial, of course. As we all know, a wyvern-class shifter is instinctually driven to protect our natural-born right to contain a safe hoard. I did not want to kill her, though, and did everything in my power to contain my instincts.”
Rage burned in me. Instinctually driven? Natural-born right? Didn’t want to kill me? He’d spewed fire at me, for fuck’s sake!
My throat burned with the need to speak and argue, but I forced myself to remain quiet. Talking out of turn was exactly what Councilman Hayes would want from me, and I wasn’t about to satisfy that asshole.
“She was using a power or a spell to make herself difficult to see so she could easily destroy my collections of potions. And that’s where things truly went south. My hoard… ninety years of growth, of collecting something I am proud of, something that my magic itself bonds to… and now only twenty percent of it remains.”
I gaped. I didn’t know that wyverns bonded with their hoards. That explained why Mr. Creed looked almost sick.
Guilt plucked my heartstrings and fought against my anger. But I didn’t let it win.
Mr. Creed finished his saga. He explained how he’d shifted into his human body and quickly alerted the cops about where I’d escaped. Apparently, the sewer system I’d been in had two distinct outlets, so it was easy for the authorities to cover both exits and wait for me. I had been wondering how officers Mel and Tony had shown up so quickly.
Creed told them that he’d returned to his wyvern form then and tracked me down, ending with me trapped at the grate and the arrival of the officers.
Mr. Creed’s sad voice drew the Councilmembers into his story, and away from feeling any sympathy for me.
I settled for glaring daggers into Roger’s head. What was wrong with him? Why had he let Mr. Creed take over like that? He better have a kickass plan.
When the wyvern thanked the Council and went silent, Roger stood again. “We appreciate your sharing, Mr. Creed. Very, very much so, yes. My client was acting in fear for her life, dear Council. Her life, you see. She was afraid, young and ignorant in the ways of the world.”
I nudged his foot with mine and whispered, “And the box was checked.”
Councilman Hayes asked, “And what proof does she have that she was legally invited into Mr. Creed’s home? Does she carry the original form with the indicated consent given?”
Roger glanced to me.
I shook my head.
“No, no, I’m afraid not. However —”
“Then there is no proof. I see this case very clearly —”
“— we do have one eyewitness statement. From a Miss Marigold Rush, Cut employee of the Union, and peer of Miss King.”
Roger picked up a piece of paper and read, “She stated, ‘I briefly reviewed Aster’s form before she left. I saw the checked box. When Aster called me from outside of the apartment, I even reminded her of Mr. Creed’s given consent, and encouraged her to try and enter. I have been a loyal employee of the Union for over a decade, and have never had any complaints against my character, work ethic, or quality of service I provide. I know in my heart that Aster is a good person, and would never commit any crime or cause harm on purpose.’”