Courts and Cabals 2

by G. S. D'Moore

  I wasn’t naïve enough to buy into all the propaganda. People did shit all the time that had nothing to do with the WRA, but sitting here, in front of her, made me feel just how deep in the shit I was. I knew that sounded stupid. A SWAT team had literally stormed a building and shot me on sight. It shouldn’t get more serious than that, but this was the fucking Boss.

  I tried to reply, but my mouth was suddenly drier than Death Valley. “Um . . .yeah,” I worked up enough saliva for that genius response.

  She just smiled at me, and I felt like she was about to lure me into her gingerbread house and bake me into a pie. “Do you know why you’re here, Mr. Dupree?”

  “That thing in New York,” I wasn’t stupid enough to give any specifics, and she caught that.

  “Among other things,” she inclined her head in a respectful nod. “You are something new to this world. We don’t know what you are, where you came from, what you’re capable of, or if you’re a danger to everyone around you.”

  “I was born here,” my mouth was moving before I could stop myself. “I’ve lived here for eighteen years without any serious shi . . . I mean stuff happening. I don’t know what I am, and sure, okay, maybe I’ve done some stupid stuff, but I don’t want to hurt anyone. It seems like everyone wants to hurt me. I’m just trying to survive.” It all rushed out of me.

  The Director nodded, and hit a few keys on her computer. “I want to offer you an opportunity, Mr. Dupree,” she regarded me carefully, like she was lady justice with her scales. “First, I want to give you the opportunity to be a part of our New Initiates program. We do this for novel supernaturals as a way to study them and make sure they acclimate well with society.”

  “I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” I replied. Afterall, I had a lifetime of experience.

  She smiled. “It requires a technological and magical combination to study your biology, habits, reaction to external stimuli, and other aspects the doctors say are important, but I honestly don’t know much about. If you were to participate in this program, we will let the judge know, and it is highly likely that he will be lenient with your sentencing.”

  “And boom goes the dynamite,” I could read between the lines. I cooperated, or the judge screwed me over. Frank’s fingers up my ass would be the least of my problems.

  “What do I need to do?” I asked.

  “Sign some paperwork, let our mages work a few spells on you, and swallow a big pill that will attach to your intestine and record your bio data for the next year,” she explained.

  “That’s it?” I didn’t like that the government would have me Lojacked, but a year on probation was a lot better than however many years they were going to throw me in the slammer.

  “That’s it. If you sign the paperwork now, we’ll get everything underway before you see the judge,” she picked up a folder and turned it for me to see.

  It was dense and in very small print. “Shouldn’t I have my lawyer look this over?” I asked.

  “Sure,” she didn’t act like that was a problem, but something flickered in her eyes. “However, there is a time limit attached to this deal.”

  “Of course there is,” I found myself in between the proverbial rock and a hard place.

  “How do you know I’m even telling the truth about anything?” I asked, making no move toward, or away, from the paperwork.

  “You were given a truth pill before you came up,” she replied like it wasn’t a gross violation of my privacy.

  I didn’t say anything, but I was starting to see why people didn’t like this woman. I got the sense she knew that, but didn’t give a shit how I, or anyone else, felt.

  “I have another question, if you’ll enlighten me?” she asked.

  I nodded, not sure where this was going, and not sure if I’d like where it ended up. “It can’t hurt to hear her out.”

  “If I told you that I could make this all go away like that . . .” she snapped her fingers, and I jumped in my chair.

  “Fuck, get a hold of yourself, man.”

  “. . . would you be willing to tell me about what you saw while you were with Venus Venitas in Las Vegas?”

  “No,” the word erupted from me. Now that I knew what was going on, I felt the truth pill in action. It didn’t make me talk, but when I opened my mouth, nothing but the truth came out.

  “That’s a pity,” she sat back, but I swore I saw begrudging respect in her eyes.

  “And our New Initiates program?” she inquired.

  “I think I’ll have my lawyer look it over,” I made my decision.

  She might be a tough old biddy I did not want to fuck with, but she had her angle, and she was pushing it hard. If she was pushing it hard, she might not have enough to get me. That might explain why Vernon was pissed.

  “But then again, they might just be fucking with me,” I wouldn’t put that past them; but if they were offering an olive branch, and I turned them down . . . “Argh!” I wanted to pull my hair out. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on how the next twenty minutes went, a commotion outside the door caught both our attention.

  Vernon opened the door and peeked his head in. “The kid’s attorneys are here demanding to see him.”

  “Time’s up,” the Director slammed the file closed with a loud slap.

  I gulped as I looked up at her, and for the life of me, I couldn’t tell if I’d made the right decision. I did know one thing for sure: I never wanted to be in her office again.

  ***

  Vernon pulled me out of the chair and marched me out the door and toward the elevator. He didn’t look happy, which made me feel like I’d made the right decision. He pushed me into the elevator in front of him, but when Becky hot-stuff tried to get on behind him, he shook his head, and the doors closed with just the two of us.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up just before the big shifter pushed the stop button. With a jerk, the elevator halted in between floors. I gulped as Vernon turned to regard me.

  “Is this the part where you kick the shit out of me?” I glanced up looking for cameras, but didn’t see any.

  The shifter started to growl, but cut it off, and turned it into a sigh. I watched his face transform from frustrated anger to just plain tired.

  “I want to talk to you?” he deadpanned.

  “Like when you roofied me with a truth pill and sent me to talk to Madame Satan,” I fired back.

  He grunted. “Not my idea,” was his defense, but I didn’t buy it. “And that doesn’t change the fact that I want to talk to you man to man.”

  “Now you want to talk to me man to man,” I laughed in his face, which didn’t help the situation. “You know,” I put irony aside for a second to get real with the shifter, “I actually wanted to be one of you,” I waved around me, which was hard to do in handcuffs. “I wanted to join the Response Division. I probably couldn’t have cut it as an agent, but I wanted to be a part of this. Do you know why?”

  From the look on his face, I’d caught the big guy by surprise. “Why?” he took the bait.

  “I wanted to get back just a bit of that power,” I made sure he knew I was dead serious and not fucking with him. “I’ve spent years around supernaturals, and not just your average werewolf girl next door types; I’m talking blue-blooded, trust-funded, fucking powerful in every conceivable way supernaturals,” I paused to let that sink in. “Do you know what I learned?”

  “What?” Vernon had relaxed enough I was sure he wasn’t going to beat my ass.

  “I learned that they’re a big bag of dicks,” I deadpanned, completely serious.

  The sound that came out of the werewolf was somewhere between a growl and a laugh.

  “I learned real quick what they thought about me. They saw themselves as the big boys and girls on campus, then there was fifty feet of dog shit, and then people like me. If I didn’t have a particular set of skills, which I will neither confirm nor deny I have in the first place, they wouldn’t have given me the time of day. I c
ould be bleeding out in the gutter and they’d step over me so I didn’t soil their Italian loafers.”

  “Get to the point, Dupree. This is a nice kumbaya moment, but your lawyer is gonna have an aneurism if we’re any later,” Vernon made a hurry up motion, but he never said he disagreed with my point.

  “Fine,” I shrugged. “The moral of this story is that after what I’ve seen of the WRA Response Division, what you’ve personally put me through, and that shit your boss just pulled; it’s clear to me that you guys are no different than the assholes I went to school with,” I looked the agent in the eye to make sure he knew I meant every word of what I said. “Now I’m done, and I’m not saying another word until my lawyer is present.”

  “Chew on that,” I crossed my arms and leaned against the back wall of the elevator.

  The werewolf’s face scrunched up in concentration, and it took him a few seconds to press the start button. The elevator was pretty speedy, so it didn’t take us long to reach where we were going. The door began to open, but Vernon stuck out his arm to stop me from getting out. I heard a man yelling somewhere nearby, but that didn’t seem to disturb the agent.

  “I’ll give it to you that most supernaturals are a bag of dicks,” he smiled at the term. “We look down on humans because they’re weaker than us, and thinking like that gets us into trouble. That’s why the WRA is here, so asshole supernaturals don’t fuck up the world. I’ll even admit that the people I work for can be just as fucked up as your preppy schoolmates. Everything in life is a contest of power, you better get used to that.”

  I was surprised by the agent’s candor, and the solid life advice. “Aren’t you just full of surprises?” I still didn’t trust him farther than I could throw him without my Fae gifts.

  “Now, I’ve got a question for you, Dupree,” he moved his whole body to block the door and obscure any cameras. “Is your cabal any different? Aren’t they all about power, money, pussy, or all of the above? You name it, they want it. And no,” he forestalled my complaint, “I’m not talking about your butt buddies. I’m talking about the people in power. The people who make decisions. Are they any different than the assholes at your school, or my boss?”

  I opened my mouth to retort, but he held up his hand, and moved to allow me off the elevator.

  “Just think long and hard about it before you give me an answer,” he gave me a shove to get me moving, and once we rounded the corner, I saw a familiar face.

  “There you are,” it was the lawyer who rescued me from Vernon last time. By the scowl on his face, he remembered the UN agent just fine. “I hope they haven’t been mistreating you.”

  “Just standard procedure, counselor,” Vernon replied, sounding bored.

  “So, it’s just standard procedure to keep an American citizen from obtaining a lawyer,” he turned to me. “Please tell me you didn’t sign or agree to anything.”

  “No, but they tried,” I told my legal pitbull.

  “Even if you did sign it, I’d get it thrown out. I heard what happened in Vegas, and you’ve been without a lawyer for nearly two days. You might be ready to shit all over the constitution, Agent Dud, but the judge presiding over the case most certainly is not.”

  “Whatever,” Vernon rolled his eyes at the posturing. “Think about what I said, Dupree,” he turned on his heal, gave a small wave, and stalked off.

  “What did he say?” the lawyer asked. “If he tried to compel or intimidate you in any way . . .”

  “No, none of that,” I said quickly. “Sure, he was an asshole at times, but . . . nothing,” I trailed off.

  “Damnit,” despite my newfound convictions, and unwavering opinion that Vernon Dud was a dick in the bag of dicks that was his division, that didn’t mean what he’d said was a lie. It was actually pretty introspective. “Furry bastard,” I hated when people got under my skin, and I stewed like that as my lawyer led me toward what had to be the courtroom.

  I saw and felt UN security officers moving with us; far enough away to respect attorney-client privilege, but close enough to tackle me if I tried to make a run for it. They followed us all the way through the door and into the courtroom. They posted up on either side of the doors as the lawyer led me toward the defense table. I should have been thinking about my upcoming fight for freedom, but my eyes were drawn to a very slapable ass.

  The woman wore heels that toed the line between professional and stripper. My eyes traced upward from there to a tight pencil skirt; so tight, I could tell she wasn’t wearing any panties. A white blouse and blazer combo were above it, but I was shamelessly focused on the impression her cheeks made against the fabric as she bent over the table studying something. My lawyer said I’d been out of it for two days. Between Fern, Lilith, and Littlekittycat69; I’d been getting a lot of ass lately, so my mind yearned for a trip to pound town.

  Then, she turned around.

  “Oh no, no . . .no . . . no; hell no!” I sputtered as Marcella grinned at me; her red locks framing her deceptively-innocent face.

  “Hello, Cam,” she smiled, showing a bit of fang. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got a great defense planned for you.”

  “Do you two know each other?” my lawyer asked, clearly confused.

  “We’ve had the pleasure,” she replied, with a lick of her lips, as we pushed through the gate that separated the lawyers from the spectators.

  I snorted as I was forced to take the seat between my lawyers. I scooted the chair as far away from the vamp as I could.

  “I wouldn’t call it a pleasure,” I replied under my breath, loud enough for her to hear.

  “It was for me,” she replied casually, as she arranged her papers. “If you’d relaxed, you would have enjoyed it.”

  “You tried to sodomize me with a fucking horse cock,” I hissed back.

  “Don’t knock it until you try it. Pegging is fairly popular with the sexually enlightened,” she was enjoying this, and that just pissed me off more.

  “If there is something I need to know . . .?” the lawyer looked uneasily between us.

  I opened my mouth to say I wanted a different lawyer, but the bailiff’s voice rang out.

  “All rise, the Honorable Bernard Covington presiding.”

  A stooped, old man appeared from a door behind the bench and slowly walked to his seat. He looked like the type of grandfather who came over for Christmas Day, and sat by the fire telling stories to the munchkins. Everything about him was wrinkles, and a battle with baldness he was steadily losing. He moved a little stiffly, and really needed to trim his nose hair. Everything about him was nonthreatening.

  That was probably the reason my internal alarm bells screamed a warning, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of incredible vulnerability that worked its way up my spine. For the first time in my life, I felt claustrophobic. I squirmed in my seat, but I was still shackled with cold iron; which meant I couldn’t rely on any enhanced strength to save my ass.

  “What good is precognition if this shit doesn’t work when I want it to,” my other gifts were conspicuously silent. I was a sitting duck.

  The old judge eased into his seat with a sigh and looked out over the court room. His eyes met mine, and I felt like I was falling into their depths. I’d felt this before, and it had me freaking the fuck out.

  “Anima mage!” I mentally flailed as my tether to reality frayed under his gaze.

  Fuck if I was going to let the old geezer get in my head. I raged against the foreign presence in my mind, and to my surprise, I made contact. It felt like when I punched someone in the face; that meaty thwack of flesh on flesh. I felt the geezer’s surprise, and then it was like someone threw everything in reverse. Now, I felt like I was being projectile vomited out of whatever mindfuck I’d fallen into.

  I emerged from it with a gasp, which had Marcella and my lawyer looking at me with concern. “Cam?” the vamp put her hand on my thigh, close to the artery she’d taken a sip from; but I was too freaked out to notice.

&
nbsp; “Anima mage,” I gulped and nodded at the judge.

  “He is,” Marcella nodded. “That’s what makes him a good judge. He knows if you’re blowing smoke up his ass. Plus, he’s allowed to take a shallow look in a defendant’s mind as part of his judicial power.”

  “Someone could have warned me,” I was still catching my breath, but she got my drift from the glare I shot her.

  I returned my focus to the judge. I felt the vibrations form a circle of power that radiated out from around him. I didn’t know shit about how magic worked, I didn’t even know if someone could be an elemental and theurgy mage; but I’d never been able to feel magic before without my Fae gifts. Even when I wasn’t bound by cold iron, it felt different. This time, things felt almost familiar.

  “This is the last thing I need,” I groaned. “What the fuck is happening?” My brain felt like it was pounding against my skull.

  The judge was probably asking himself the same question. His bushy eyebrows had disappeared into his receding hair line, and he had a WTF expression that mirrored mine. All of this happened in the span of ten seconds, and since he had a lot more experience in the fucking of the minds, the judge recovered first.

  “I call to order the ninth district of the supernatural court of the United States of America. Clerk, will you please read the docket,” the judge sounded casual, but his eyes kept darting back to me.

  I massaged my temples and missed most of what the clerk said, but Marcella yanked me to my feet when the judge addressed me.

  “Mr. Dupree,” everyone heard the curiosity in his voice. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a novel supernatural in my courtroom.”

  “It’s the first time I’ve been in a courtroom,” I fired back before I could stop myself. “Your Honor,” I added so he didn’t throw the book at me.

  “I have a motion to immediately put before the court, Your Honor,” the prosecution used my remark to butt in. He handed the bailiff a piece of paper to bring to the judge. “This motion is to immediately dismiss co-counsel for the defendant. Ms. Marcella Caldwell is registered with the WRA as a vampire elder. The abilities of this classification of supernaturals are well documented, and her ability to influence any part of the legal process, or anyone in this courtroom for that matter, is grounds for dismissal.”