The Gods Defense (Laws of Magic Book 1)

by Amie Gibbons

  They bounced up and down around me, yipping. Sunshine yellow shone around their tiny black bodies like halos. I never saw a human with such pure, absolute happiness oozing out of them. Ah, to be a dog.

  “Alright already, boys. Just give me a minute.”

  The boys pinged around me, out to the living room and back as I changed into sweats and jogging shoes. I clipped on their leashes, and we were off.

  We walked down to the park and I let them off their leashes. My boys ran around while I stretched. We did this every night. Walked, stretched, jogged the long way back around to the apartment. It’s harder during the winter, but it doesn’t usually get really cold in Nashville. At least not to someone who grew up in the Rockies.

  I bent over one leg then the next, trying to warm up my muscles, ignoring the chub around my hips that had never quite waned after it blobbed up during One-L year. People either lost weight or gained it that first year of law school.

  “Arrellp!” came from the direction of the playground.

  “Puccini!” I ran towards the colorful plastic monstrosity.

  And slammed to a stop at the edge of the dirt. “Puccini! Webber!” I yelled, searching the shadows under the well-lit playground. I should’ve been able to see even my black teacup poodles under the lights.

  “Arf. Arf. Arf! Arf! Arf!” Webber barked off to my left and I dashed towards the noise.

  And slammed to a stop again.

  The boys were just off the side of the bright blue slide, Puccini lying down, licking his paw like it was made of bacon while Webber danced in front of him, barking at the... the thing in front of him.

  It was a foot tall purple plant with gold petals draping down from its center like ringlets.

  Webber kept barking, darting up to the plant to growl and running away. He pulled back his black doggie lips and ran in, teeth flashing.

  One of the golden ringlets reared back.

  I moved before my brain caught up. Concentrated speed rushed through my muscles and I covered the distance in a second, swooping Webber up and jerking back before the flower could swing.

  I huffed like I’d just run a five minute mile and my knees knocked together as I shivered. It was always like that when I used my speed. Like I’d shot a triple espresso while snorting cocaine and was just coming down.

  The flower turned its face towards me and I swear if a flower can look confused, it did.

  I flipped it off and knelt next to Puccini. A sharp purple quill stuck out of the paw he was licking.

  “Ohhhh, baby.” I put Webber down, with a, “Sit,” and took Puccini’s paw. He whined and twitched but didn’t pull away. The spine looked deep.

  Ever since the Awakening, weird stuff just happened.

  A few plants and animals that’d been perfectly normal before became sentient. Environmental lawyers had a field day. And then they hit the courts with talking animals and flowers that learned sign language to argue for their rights.

  Millie’s ex worked in Atlanta as a lobbyist for magical creatures’ rights and got a bill passed protecting the rights of sentient trees in Georgia last year. I knew another person who wrote up contracts to license the newly “freed” plants’ produce to their old owners.

  Lots of pissed off peach farmers.

  Other magical beings appeared randomly, made from thin air. Some people suddenly got powers. And physical rules just went out for coffee breaks in certain spots.

  Magic, running amok as it reestablished itself in the world.

  Puccini squirmed against my hold and I made soothing sounds as I grabbed the spike. I pulled it out and Puccini howled, jerking his paw away. But at least I got it.

  It was four inches long, thin as a needle, and sharp enough to separate papers. The first half inch was dark with Puccini’s blood.

  “Bitch!” I snapped at the flower.

  It straightened a petal and pointed at me.

  I pointed back. “Even think about it and I swear I’m running to the store. Can you say WeedWacker? You may get me with a few of those spikes, but I guarantee it’ll be the last thing you do.”

  The petal lowered.

  “Yep. That’s what I thought.”

  I was threatening to murder a freaking flower. God, life had gotten weird.

  I put Puccini down and he went back to licking his paw. I called the magic hotline and told them about the flower and the danger it posed and they said they’d send a witch over to investigate.

  The hotline was a non-profit that had only been up and running for a year. The new witches who’d put it together tracked the magical occurrences, talked to the new sentient beings, determined if they should be moved and if they were dangerous, hired lawyers and social workers to help with getting them settled and established in the human world, and put up a website for magic beings to connect on.

  They were doing wonderful work. I kept telling myself when I had time, I’d volunteer. There’s not a lot of weekends free when you’re a baby prosecutor.

  Though, I really should’ve made time. They were finding more and more events every day and couldn’t keep up with it lately, according to their website. It was like magical events were building instead of tapering off like the theorists were hypothesizing.

  I picked up my boys and walked home.

  So much for our exercise for the night.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Death,” I said as I put the first tarot card in my cross formation down on my desk. No, I didn’t get a chill down my spine or gasp in terror. Death in tarot meant a change. I leaned over, tracing the sunset in the background with my finger.

  The deck belonged to my grandma. She was a “psychic” in the fifties. The thick cards were heavy in my hand, cracked and soft with age, faded dark purple with elaborate gold edges. The intricate, once brightly colored pictures on the fronts had faded like the backs, but were still beautiful.

  I should be working on the case. I am; I’m getting insight into how this is going to turn out.

  I finished flipping.

  The Devil, upside down. Telling me to look deeper at a situation and I wasn’t in control of my life. The Chariot; ambition and a signal to move forward with something. Judgment; a swift and conclusive decision was going to be required. It’d lead to the resolution of a matter that had been dragging out. And maybe a change in someone’s point of view, usually towards greater enlightenment.

  And finally, The Hanged Man.

  A crossroads.

  Oh dear. Most of the cards were saying something was happening, something I made assumptions on or was going to. That I was enslaving myself by my assumptions and a change was coming.

  The Hanged Man scared me.

  He’s the symbol of a time of suspension when you can think, a time to see things in a new light and make a decision at a fork in the road. The card’s also about sacrifice so you can get that illumination to make your decision.

  It’s also the twelfth card, the opposite of the twenty-first, the last one. And today was the twelfth of December.

  Why did that feel relevant?

  All major arcana. That was telling in and of itself. The major arcana represent life lessons.

  “Why do I have a bad feeling… well, a worse feeling, about setting up a meeting with Apollo now?” I asked Webber, running my fingers over his soft curls.

  I grabbed my file and spread it over the desk. Usually I’d be doing research for such a big change in trial strategy, except there was no research to do. The Gods Defense was completely new. What was I even going to ask Dionysus if I could get him to show up?

  Brrrrring. Brinnnnnng, Bah-Ring, my phone trilled, vibrating on the desk next to my soda and what was left of my chicken sandwich dinner.

  Speak of the devil? Maybe.

  I grabbed the phone. The caller ID said unavailable. Of course it did.

  “Here we go,” I whispered, hitting talk. “Cassandra Berry.”

  “I have Apollo calling for you, Ms. Berry,” a professional soun
ding male voice said. “Will you please hold?”

  “Sure.” I snorted. Geez. He couldn’t even call me himself. Nope, had to have the secretary call.

  A lot of snotty lawyers do that, too.

  Tinkling lute music came over the line and I took another sip of my soda. What would the secretary have done if I said I wouldn’t hold?

  Huh, that sounded just fun enough to try next time I called someone who put me on hold. Maybe I’d-

  The music switched off.

  “Hello Cassandra”

  I resisted the urge to shiver. Apollo’s the god who is the epitome of youth, health and strength, and his voice reflects it. Just deep enough to be truly masculine but not bone rattling; smoky, silkier than snake oil, and always sounds like whatever he’s saying is vaguely dirty. The Greek accent gives it an exotic edge.

  I hadn’t heard it since Three-L year.

  And those two words had me wondering why I’d ever not want to hear that voice.

  There was a reason I was avoiding the pain in the ass.

  “Hi Apollo. I need a favor.”

  He was silent for a few seconds.

  I was about to say, ‘Can you hear me now?’ when he said, “No small talk, no buttering me up, just straight down to business? Cassandra, you shock me.”

  “A man who actually wants foreplay? Trust me, Apollo, I’m more shocked than you.”

  I slapped my forehead. The joke just came to me. With a normal guy it’d be funny. With Apollo it was an invitation.

  “Oh, Cassandra,” he said, voice dropping deeper, “you should know by now how much I enjoy foreplay. We’ve been having it for two years.”

  I blushed. Dammit! This was so not a good idea. Even talking on the phone with him was dangerous.

  “Cute.” My voice went sharper than those paper splitting quills. Oh well, better than breathy. “Seriously, I need a favor. But”–I held up a finger even though he couldn’t see… at least, not that I knew of–”I will give you something in return.”

  His, “I’m listening,” brushed over my skin like a heavy breath, calling the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck to attention.

  I rubbed my arm with my free hand, looking behind me at my bedroom like… what? Like I expected him to be there somehow.

  The hairs didn’t go down. And I wanted to risk being in a room with him?

  On a scale from one to ten, how stupid am I?

  “I’m on an assault case right now and the Defense is using what we’re calling The Gods Defense. He’s saying Dionysus made him attack a guy in a bar. The defense lawyer and I both subpoenaed Dionysus and I think he’ll ignore it.”

  I took a deep breath and Apollo stayed silent. “Should I keep explaining while you pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about, or can I cut to the chase?”

  “By all means, Cassandra.”

  Please stop saying my name like that.

  “You talk to Dionysus, get him to agree to obey the subpoena, come to the office to be interviewed, show up in trial, the whole shebang, and I’ll meet with you in person.”

  “So you can establish a precedent for such an action?”

  “So you can show the country you really do intend to work within our system and not try to take it over. Like you guys have been claiming.”

  I don’t know why I felt the need to add the last part. Maybe because I didn’t get why they were trying to integrate into society. They were gods after all. They could tell us to take our system and shove it.

  “Consider it done.”

  Huh? My brow pinched up and my jawbone went jelly. “Excuse me?”

  “I have already spoken to Dionysus. He will call your office Monday to set up a time for his interview and I’m assuming the court will tell him when to appear.”

  Actually the trial started Monday and the subpoena said to appear on Tuesday, but I had more important things to worry about than correcting him.

  “But... you...” My hand flew out and Webber jumped off my lap. “He was already planning on answering it? On such short notice?”

  “No. This was a joint decision by all of us. We told you to plead it out. If you could not, you would have to come to me.”

  “But Henry just approached me today telling me you guys wanted it pled out. The trial’s on Monday.”

  “Imagine that.”

  My stomach twisted up and I felt the blood drop from my face. The mirror across my room shot my image back at me. I’d always been teased about looking like Snow White with my black hair and pale skin. Now I looked like her after she ate the apple.

  He didn’t... he wouldn’t... yeah, yeah he would.

  Seriously, after what he did, why was I surprised?

  “Apollo, is there a basis for Reily’s client’s defense? Did a god make him attack someone?”

  “Why would you think that, Cassandra?”

  Horror hit me like a punch and I closed my eyes, trying to take deep breaths.

  “You planned this!”

  His voice was oh so calm as he said, “You now get what you want and so do I. Meet me in my theater in an hour. Use the employee parking. I know how you loathe paying for parking. I will tell the guards to be expecting you.”

  “What... no... you slimy son of a bitch!”

  He’d already hung up.

  “Dammit!” I threw my phone down and it bounced off the carpet, landing with a thud. I grabbed it, shoving it into my purse.

  I stomped across my bedroom, banged open the closet door, nearly tore the buttons off my top taking it off. I yanked a gown off its hanger, chucking the plastic garment bag as I marched across the room again and slammed the bathroom door. None of it helped.

  I’d been played.

  And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I called Millie, telling her there was a change of plans and she insisted on coming along. Tyler I’d take as backup any day, that girl was scary and could take care of herself. Millie, not so much.

  “I don’t like this,” Tyler said, checking herself out in her makeup mirror as I pulled into the parking spot marked Cassandra Berry. She snapped the compact shut. “This smells like a trap.”

  I stared at my name perfectly painted on the parking sign.

  “Yeah, I’m getting that vibe.”

  “I don’t think so,” Millie said. I looked back at her in the review mirror. “I think he just likes you.” She looked up from her phone in the back, eyes widening. “He got you a parking spot? A permanent one? That’s so creepy.”

  We climbed out of the car and I smoothed my skirt down.

  “You look beautiful,” Millie said. “Don’t worry.”

  “No, you look hot,” Tyler said. “And that’s not what she’s worried about, Millie”

  “Crap.” Blue bled out around Millie’s head. “I thought I had it that time.”

  Tyler nodded, rubbing Millie’s arm and the blue sucked back in. I smiled. We’d been a trio since the first semester of law school and even with the trap we were probably walking into, even with me worrying about Millie, I was glad they were with me.

  Millie looked between us then down at her dress, frowning. She wore a ballerina-esque black and gold cocktail dress that made the most of her petite form.

  “I look like a child next to you two.”

  “You look young and skinny,” Tyler said. “You’ll love it when you’re thirty.”

  Millie wrinkled her little nose, shaking her head so her curls danced. “Everybody says that. I don’t believe them.”

  Tyler and I shared a look. With her perfect hourglass, red hair and striking mismatched eyes, Tyler drew looks everywhere she went. To find her, we just had to follow the trail of drool from admirers. And I knew I was pretty, not drool-worthy, but enough to draw eyes.

  Millie never had that feeling. No matter how cute she was or how many times we told her she was pretty and we’d kill for her tiny, fit body, she couldn’t see it.

  Guys neve
r chased her in high school or college. She wasn’t terribly interested in the guys back home from what she’d told me, but it still instilled the belief that she wasn’t attractive. It didn’t help that the first guy who showed any real interest in her, the first guy she fell for, hurt her so badly that I could still see the mental scars.

  Millie didn’t let people into her heart easily, so once they were there, they were there to stay.

  Even assholes who didn’t deserve the privilege.

  Tyler’s phone rang its signature growl and I hopped at the sudden noise. She checked it and her fingers flew as she tapped out a text. I squinted as pressure made my scalp tingle, but couldn’t see anything out of her.

  “Who is it?” I asked.

  She smirked. “Just a guy I’m seeing.”

  Red flashed around her head, fast as lightning but just as obvious.

  Why the hell did Tyler just lie to me?

  “A guy you’re seeing?” I asked.

  She smirked. “Fine, one I’m fucking, whatever.”

  The red flashed again.

  I shook my head. None of my business. We walked down the pathway towards the theater and I checked my phone. Just before nine.

  “We should’ve been late,” Tyler said. “Make him wonder if you were coming. Make him wait for it.”

  “Yeahhhhhh,” I said. “But that goes against every self-preservation bone in my body. If I were late, he could consider it a breach of our oral contract.”

  “And you don’t break deals with gods,” Millie said.

  “Maybe you don’t.” Tyler tossed her hair back, drawing herself up, even taller in her heels.

  “Who do you think is populating Hades’ new underworld?” I asked. “It wasn’t made for the dead. It’s for the gods’ people who break their rules.”

  Yet another reason to stick to my guns and tell Apollo to take his offer and shove it up someplace even more painful than his ass.

  I looked down at my gown again. I hated that I’d dressed up for him, but it was Apollo’s Theater. Girls didn’t go there even in suits. It was black tie, sometimes white. I was just self-conscious enough to not want to stand out in the crowd of Nashville’s blue bloods.