by Petra Landon
“You’ve assembled a formidable coalition.” Faoladh’s eyes swept over the group huddled around the tables.
On another table, the Alpha of the Southern California Pack carried on an awkward conversation with the Ancient who led his brethren in San Diego. Briefed by DiZeyla, her counterpart in this city had shown up at the hotel ten minutes ago. On the other hand, Faoladh had personally alerted Alpha Ramirez to the upcoming confrontation at Wizard Headquarters. San Diego was Ramirez’s territory and Shifter etiquette demanded that the local Pack not be kept out of the loop. Faoladh had taken care of the niceties, conscious of the sundry other items on Raoul’s plate. Plus, it had been easier to get Alpha Ramirez to agree with Faoladh, where it might be trickier for a peer Alpha Protector.
“I know you’ll get the Guardian, Raoul. The question is, what do you plan to do once you have him?” Faoladh inquired.
“I’m open to suggestions, Faoladh.”
Faoladh studied him. “As long as you hold him, the GCW will hound the Pack.”
“I know” Raoul acknowledged. “I also know that Anderson must be punished by someone not as intimately involved as I am.”
Otherwise, the Guardians would pin this on him, like they had Anderson’s previous crimes. Raoul knew that the prospect alarmed David Hamilton and the others. If Chosen started taking sides, the truth would be buried, and the tentative truce that had existed between Chosen since the birth of the CoC would be in danger.
“What if I gave him into your custody, Faoladh?” he suggested. “Would the GCW accept your authority?”
As the ultimate authority in their world, Shifters looked to Faoladh to resolve issues that crossed Pack boundaries. That is why the Shifter mercenaries in San Francisco had been handed into Faoladh’s custody.
“The Guardians are in disarray, and might not appreciate where their best interests lie right now.” Faoladh was cryptic.
Raoul said nothing. Yes, they were.
“There’s another way — it would sweep away any claims of bias or injustice” Faoladh said. “Even the GCW would be hard-pressed to refute it.”
“What way?”
“Let the CoC try him” Faoladh suggested.
“The CoC” Raoul muttered, taken aback by the suggestion. To his knowledge, the Council had never involved themselves in such matters before.
“By rights, this should fall under CoC jurisdiction, Raoul. This is precisely why I pushed for it. With equal representation from all Chosen factions, no one can claim that it is biased. It would effectively shut the GCW up. They’d have to accept a CoC verdict with good grace.”
“I know why you pushed for the CoC, Faoladh” Raoul said slowly. “And I support your vision for it. But the CoC has never dealt with a trial or even a dispute before.”
“There’s always a first time, Raoul. It’s time we set a precedent. There are many advantages to a CoC trial, apart from the obvious one. The details of the attack will be made public — the Guardians cannot spin it. It’ll give the CoC some teeth that they currently lack, and it’ll send a strong message that the Council will not spare anyone, even a Guardian.”
“I’m not willing to risk the CoC cutting a deal with the Guardians” Raoul countered bluntly.
“There will be no deals, Raoul.” Faoladh’s response was equally firm. “Not under my watch. I give you my word.”
His eyes searched Raoul’s face.
“The evidence against Anderson has been gathered by Esmeralda’s team, Raoul” he said, picking his words with care. “Given that, a CoC trial holds little risk to you. But if you give the Council a chance to make this right first, it might help avert a Chosen civil war. It might even wake the Wizards up to how the infighting has weakened them in the eyes of Chosen everywhere.”
Faoladh cast him a shrewd glance, satisfied that he’d made his case. “Mull it over, Raoul. We’ve a few hours before you confront the Wizards.”
Raoul cast a glance at the table where every piece of evidence was being carefully sifted through. This team would do a thorough job, and Duncan was present, to keep an eye on things.
He turned to Faoladh. “There’s something I must do. I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Do what you have to, Raoul. Your people have everything under control here.”
Raoul shot a final glance at Duncan, who he knew had heard the conversation, before exiting the hall. Once outside, he opened his ears, letting it guide him to a room.
Hawk and Sienna, he’d expected to find with Tasia. With them, were Joaquim, Michael and, even Luis and some of his Shifters. A burst of laughter greeted him as he knocked on the door.
Tasia glanced up as the Alpha strode in behind Hawk. He greeted the others before zeroing in on her.
“I need to talk to you.”
Tasia got up, excusing herself to her companions.
“Grab a jacket” he prompted. They couldn’t have a private conversation in the hotel.
Tasia put on her jacket to follow him. They exited the hotel to walk for about five blocks until they found themselves in a residential neighborhood.
“Faoladh wants the CoC to try Anderson” the Alpha said.
His words astonished Tasia. The CoC was known to never involve themselves in affairs like this. So far, no Chosen could quite spell out what the Council worked on, for the most part. The CoC’s work, including the discussions between the four representatives, remained shrouded in mystery to the average Chosen. While the Council’s goal had always been to facilitate co-operation, so far, there had been no tangible collaboration or partnerships amongst the different factions. In effect, there had been an attempt to unify the Chosen in theory, while in practice, they remained just as divided as they’d ever been.
“Faoladh has always been a proponent of the CoC” Tasia murmured, almost under her breath.
A Chosen was usually punished at the local level by his own peers. Rarely were others involved, except when the victims were Chosen from other factions. In such cases, deals were usually struck between the two parties to reach a reasonable compromise. But never before had a body with representation from all four Chosen factions been asked to try one of their own.
“The Guardians will have no grounds to complain” she muttered, gauging the political ramifications perfectly. And no reason to lay siege to the Lair, since Anderson would not be in Shifter custody. She, for one, was tired of always being cossetted inside the Lair.
“Do you think the CoC will convict him?” she had to ask.
Truth to tell, Tasia was puzzled about where the conversation was heading. She understood what he was telling her, but not why he was. This was Chosen politicking at a grand scale where she’d never amount to more than a speck of dust.
“Faoladh’s point is that the First Wizard will find it impossible to vote against conviction when the damning evidence has been collected by her own team” he answered readily. “At best, we get a conviction, and at worst, a hung Council. A tie will indicate that the Council cannot deliver justice on this. It’ll free my hands to go after Anderson myself. No one can then complain that I didn’t give the CoC a chance before I took matters into my own hands.”
“Sounds like a win-win situation” Tasia said softly, her eyes searching his face.
“There’s a catch.”
“I knew there was.” Tasia sighed. “Why else would you bring me out here?”
Raoul heroically resisted the urge to respond to that particular question.
“With a CoC trial, we lose control over the process. Faoladh wants a public trial. This is the opportunity he’s been waiting for to showcase the CoC.”
“I see.” But Tasia didn’t, not really.
“Faoladh knows about the footage from the cage” he explained. “If I agree to a CoC trial but hold back the footage, he’ll be suspicious.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He knows me well, witchling.” The gold eyes met her with candor. “He’ll know that I’m not holding back the fo
otage to protect my manly blushes. His suspicions will fall on you as the person I’m trying to protect.”
Tasia stared at him, finally understanding the choice he faced. Now she understood why he wanted to talk to her.
“Is there anything in the footage that might pose a threat to you, if it’s made public?” he asked. With a CoC trial, more Chosen would have access to the footage than just the handful they’d bargained for.
“And if … there is?” she hesitated.
“Then I won’t agree to a CoC trial” he said simply. “If I insist on going after Anderson, instead of allowing the Chosen to indulge in a kumbaya moment, no one will question it. They might try and talk me out of it, but it won’t raise any red flags. Being a Shifter can be a blessing in many ways” he quipped as she mused over his words.
Tasia sighed softly. What a pickle this was.
“I’m hesitant to release the footage” she confessed.
“Okay, I’ll say no to the CoC trial.” His response was immediate.
“But a CoC trial would make all the evidence against the Guardian public” she pointed out. “It might make his allies rethink their search for me.”
“You’re right. If he has any associates, sending him away will not stop them” he murmured, caught by her perceptiveness. “But discrediting him publicly might make them question it.”
They stared at each other, the weight of the decision heavy between them. Eventually, it was the Alpha who made the first move.
“Time to be honest, witchling. Will releasing the footage have any repercussion for you?”
Tasia pondered his question carefully. Would anyone recognize her as her father’s daughter, or even her mother’s progeny, she wondered. It was unlikely. She’d inherited her father’s coloring with her mother’s features.
“There’s no threat to me” she admitted.
“Are you sure?” he persisted. “You were hesitant before.”
Tasia walked a few feet to lean against an old oak tree while she tried to articulate her reluctance.
“All my life, I’ve tried to keep to the shadows. Releasing the footage is the antithesis of that. Everything in me is screaming against this.”
He studied her silently before striding over to her.
“If you can overcome it, I’ll negate the threat of Anderson from your life for good.”
“How?” Tasia was surprised. As part of their bargain, he’d promised to find out everything about Anderson, but blunting the Guardian and his allies was a different ballgame altogether.
“Leave that to me. Give the word, and I’ll make sure Anderson doesn’t come after you ever again.”
Tasia closed her eyes. On the face of it, it should be an easy decision to make. Yet, Tasia struggled to make it. Then, a thought struck her. This was a decision he could have made on his own. Instead, he’d given her a choice.
“Yes” she murmured finally. “Yes.”
For a moment, he was silent. “I’ll tell Faoladh that the CoC can try the Guardian. You won’t regret this.” It was a pledge.
“You could’ve made this decision without me” she said, holding his gaze. “How could I not fight my instincts?”
His lips twisted in a wry grin. They walked a few blocks back in silence, each immersed in their own thoughts.
“Can you do one more thing for me?” he asked.
Tasia nodded.
“I want to confront Anderson publicly, to sow doubts. I’d like to invoke your father.”
Tasia shot him a glance. She knew what he was asking from her.
“I won’t betray myself” she assured him.
“We’re here to meet the First Wizard” Faoladh said to the young Wizard at the reception. “She’s expecting us.”
The Wizard cast her eyes at the dark-haired man with the easy smile, and the tall, tawny-haired man with cold gold-colored eyes, before glancing around the spacious marble and glass reception hall. A hush had descended on the unusually crowded hall. She suspected that it had something to with the visitors; Wizards in the hall eyed the two men with a watchful air. Wizard Headquarters had worn a watchful and tense air today, but the young receptionist was too junior a Wizard to know the reason for the palpable uneasiness in its hallowed air, though she could sense it.
She picked up the phone to dial the First Wizard’s office.
“There are two gentlemen here to see the First Wizard … I will, thank you.” She put the phone down to address Faoladh. “Someone from her office will escort you up in a few minutes, Sir.”
“Thank you.” Faoladh, possessed of impeccable manners, thanked her with a smile.
As the two moved away towards the tall windows that overlooked the extensive and manicured grounds, an older man with a shock of white hair came striding down the hallway.
“Faoladh” he hailed loudly, bringing all Wizards gathered in the hall to their feet. “This is an honor.”
Very few Wizards would have the opportunity to meet the legendary Wyr in person. Thus, his presence amidst them was enough to bring them to their collective feet. Faoladh was held in great respect by Chosen, even those that did not agree with his views. He had won their respect by advancing the cause of Magicks of all stripes throughout his extraordinarily long lifetime.
Raoul abandoned Faoladh to walk to the windows. If he noticed the Wizards eyeing him askance, he chose to ignore it. Wizard Headquarters was a modern but ornate-looking glass and marble structure housed in a sprawling campus in a San Diego suburb. Outside its gates waited his Shifters, ready to come flank the Alpha in numbers at his command. But the small group of Chosen, hand-picked to stand with him today in a symbolic show of support, waited by the entrance to the building on the well-kept grounds.
The First Wizard swept into the spacious foyer to greet Faoladh with warmth, before hailing the Alpha.
The Alpha turned to face her. Ten Wizards flanked Faoladh and the First Wizard, including the man with the shock of white hair who’d hailed Faoladh.
Raoul greeted the First Wizard politely. Her face wore a somber expression, while the Wizards around her looked grim and watchful. These must be the senior-most Guardians present at Headquarters, he realized. Come to stop the Shifters from carting away one of their own into Pack custody.
Faoladh addressed the First Wizard to set the ball rolling. “The Alpha’s here on a matter that concerns a Guardian — Ted Anderson.”
“If your business concerns a Guardian, then the GCW would like to be present, Faoladh” the older Guardian who had first hailed Faoladh spoke up immediately.
Faoladh glanced at the Alpha, making it clear that it was to be Raoul’s call.
“Invite any one you want, Guardian” the Alpha said, inscrutable as always.
He turned to the First Wizard. “My people wait outside, First Wizard.”
“Invite them in please, Alpha” the First Wizard responded immediately.
The Guardians surrounding her shifted uncomfortably, as the First Wizard invited the Alpha’s entourage into Wizard Headquarters.
Raoul ignored them to glance at the entrance. The Shifters outside could easily overhear the conversation in the foyer. Atsá and Duncan led the eight Were-Alphas. Every Were-Alpha in his Pack, except the two left behind to watch over the Lair, had made the trip with him. David Hamilton and DiZeyla, accompanied by Mistress Franciszka, followed the Shifters in. Behind the leaders of the local Chosen Alliance came Tasia, Jason LaRue, Sienna, Hawk and Roman Durovic. Alpha Ramirez and Herabudh, who led the Ancients in San Diego, brought up the rear.
Mistress Franciszka, swathed in scarves to protect her pale skin from the sun, immediately went to work on removing the elaborate layers. Once done, she sauntered over to the nearest couch to perch herself decadently on it.
“So Raoul” she inquired dulcetly, ignoring everyone else. “Are the Spell Casters giving you any trouble?”
Raoul pursed his lips to hold his laughter in. Franciszka loved attention, and she knew how to get it. T
he Wizards all stared at Franciszka with varying degrees of dismay, astonishment, horror and fascination. Attired in blue velvet with sapphires winking in her ears and at the décolletage of her low-cut gown, Franciszka made quite the picture. It was clear that she had prepared for the occasion. Her hair had been teased into a complicated arrangement of curls and jeweled clips, and she wore a full face of make-up. Though Raoul did note with amusement that the Mistress made sure to keep her face away from the direct sunlight that still streamed in through the large windows.
“We haven’t started yet, Franciszka” he said calmly.
The Wizard, who had insisted on GCW representation at the meeting, turned to Raoul.
“You allow a Vampire in your entourage, Alpha?” There was shock and surprise, as well as a hint of disapproval in the query. The Wizards had recognized what the Mistress was quickly enough.
Raoul ignored the Wizard, to introduce the Vampire. “This is Mistress Franciszka. She leads the Clan in San Francisco.”
“And who might you be, Spell Caster?” inquired Franciszka, as the Wizard threw her another glance.
“I’m Sebastian Thorne.” The Wizard straightened, a frown marring his brows. “A member of the GCW.”
“Aah, a Guardian” she said sagely. “I’ve never been to Wizard Headquarters before. This place could do with some decorating” she suggested, glancing around the vast hall.
Some of the Wizards gathered around Sebastian Thorne drew an audible breath at her suggestion, clearly affronted by it.
Raoul turned to the First Wizard, who was staring at Mistress Franciszka with a strange expression on her face. “The rest of my people will stay in their cars, First Wizard” he prompted.
Reminded of the occasion by the gentle prodding, the First Wizard turned to Raoul. “Of course. Please follow me, Alpha. We can discuss this in my office.”
But before they could do so, Sebastian Thorne stepped forward. “No member of the Clan has ever set foot in this building, and the GCW would like to keep it that way.”
“The Mistress is with the Alpha, Sebastian. And, he’s my guest here.” There was a thread of steel in the First Wizard’s voice.