by Harper Wylde
“Now that can be arranged.” Ryder let his eyes travel over my body appreciatively.
Theo walked over and placed a hot cup of coffee in my hands, warming me up; the aroma teasing me while I waited for it to cool until I could take a sip.
Damien ushered me to the dining room table and placed a steaming plate of eggs and bacon in front of me, and I ate heartily as Hiro sat next to me, reading some news article on his phone as he absently stroked his fingers over the arm I had propped on the table.
Killian laughed from the other room, watching some silly cartoon while Theo lounged in the chair next to the sectional. He was reading a paperback, his glasses perched on this nose as his eyes scanned the pages rapidly. With his brain, it was no surprise that he read quickly.
Ryder propped himself up behind Killian with another glass of orange juice, watching the show and smiling happily.
This right here, it felt like everything. I loved having all of us together. A family.
The ringing of a cell phone brought me back down to earth, and I watched Damien slip onto the porch as he answered the call. A gust of cold air blew over me from the brief moment the door had opened and shut, and I downed my coffee to warm myself from the inside out. I was going to need some more sweaters and thicker socks. I had a sinking feeling that the weather would get much colder before it started its ascent again.
I was smiling, bantering back and forth with Hiro about his news article, when my Gargoyle stepped back into the room, a somber look pinching his face.
“We’ve been summoned by the Council. They’re expecting us there in four hours.”
And just like that, the calm, happy bubble that had formed was popped as stress and adrenaline battled for space inside of me.
Thirty-Four
Nix
I highly doubted that a mandatory audience with the Council could be anything good. Although my guys assured me that events large and small frequently happened in the throne room so that the Council could show their power, my Phoenix was hissing and flapping inside of me, clearly agitated. The doors that we were escorted to were even larger than the doors to the meeting room in which I had been introduced. These were etched with intricate carvings of hundreds of different kinds of mythological creatures, each one life-like and writhing as they twined amongst each other. I could have studied that door for hours, finding something new in it each time. The doors were swung wide to reveal a room edged in gilt, filled nearly to overflowing with people. I instantly froze, not wanting to step a foot into the writhing mass of people so reminiscent of the carvings on the door.
It’s alright, Nix. Hiro’s face betrayed no sign that he was soothing me through our connection. It can be overwhelming at first, but we’re with you.
The crowd parted as we walked through, the faces ranging from excited, to curious, to furious. I spotted Ahmya with a small group of men and women who looked to be about our age. Every face was hostile as they glared at our group moving through the room. As we neared the center, the room opened up enough to allow me to see the seven carved and gilt-edged thrones placed on a raised dais. The carvings mimicked the ones that made up the entryway. The mythologicals on the thrones, however, looked far more imposing. Each ornate creature was emphasized with gilt leaf and what appeared to be gemstones. Every throne held one of the Councilmen, dressed in elegant, severe black and white tuxedos.
You’ve got to be freaking kidding me, what is this? Some twisted monarchy?
Walls, Nix. Damien’s mental voice was amused. I’m working to keep you in our connection, but if you shout like that, I can’t guarantee who else might pick up on your sarcasm. I could sense the underlying concern in his statement. Respect was so important to the Council, what would they do if they knew I viewed them with scorn and contempt?
Don’t fool yourself, Annie girl. They know that most of us hate them. They don’t care. As long as we continue to show them that they’re powerful, what we honestly think of them doesn’t matter. They don’t need to be adored—they just want the power being on the Council gives them.
Councilman Lacroix stepped from his throne, striding forward with a smile to grasp his son’s arm. “Damien. Good. I knew you would respond quickly.”
“Councilman.” Damien’s voice was stern, but I could see the smile twisting at the edge of his lips. I hadn’t realized he would address him formally in a group setting.
Councilman Lacroix turned to me, his smile still in place. “Nix. Thank you for coming. You’ve never answered a call before, so I’m sure this is a little confusing for you.”
Councilman Stepanov also rose from his throne, brushing a hand down the sharp lines of his tuxedo—as if it would dare wrinkle. “Always remember that response to a call from this Council is not optional. Now, if Councilman Ishida will bring in the prisoner so we can get this over with?”
Prisoner? What the hell was going on? Theo shifted at my back, reaching a hand out to rub across the back of my neck, wanting to help ease my tension.
Councilman Ishida raised his hands, silver light sparkling and moving in waves. He strode towards a small door that I hadn’t noticed on the back wall. Unlike the rest of the room, this door stood out due to its starkness—it was more of a panel than a door, as there was no handle that I could see. The light on his hands melded with the door as he got closer until the door glowed with the same silver light as his hands.
My guys had all stiffened at my sides and back, though I could tell they were trying to hide it. Killian was growling lightly under his breath, and Theo was hissing through his teeth. This was not what they had been expecting when we had been called.
Nix, I’m sorry. My father is walling me out. I don’t know what’s about to happen. They’ve put out a full call, so if they are planning a punishment here, we won’t be able to stop it. I could hear the panic in his tone, feel it wafting in waves over me from the others. My Phoenix was hissing, whirling madly in an attempt to get out. I may not know what was going on, but apparently, she was not going to approve of whatever it was. We mentioned this Nix. I wish we could have prepared you more. The Council is the punishing body as well. It could be a banishment or a beating. It could… He trailed off as if unable to continue.
It could be an execution. Theo’s mental voice was hard as steel; cold as ice. If these bastards are going to put on an execution in front of you, I’m going to find a way to punish them. I don’t care if they hear me. If these bastards think that after everything you’ve gone through, we’re going to let them get away with putting you through monitoring an execution they’re dead wrong.
Holy shit. An execution? Seriously? Yes, I had known it happened. Hell, even the human world had the death penalty. People came and watched those. I had always pictured them as solemn affairs, though. Crying, broken relatives, hard-eyed reporters, sullen guards in sterile rooms. This was a party for God’s sake! The dress may range from jeans to black tie, but there was laughter still echoing around the room, the delicate smells wafting from the banquet tables, champagne flutes full of golden liquid. How was an execution appropriate here? Murmurs had begun to ring out through the crowd as Councilman Ishida focused on whatever he was doing with the doorway.
He’s opening all of the doors behind that panel. It leads down to the jail. He’s a celestial kitsune, remember? He handles all the barriers. He’s incredibly skilled at it. He’s leading the prisoner up from the cells through the hallway. Only his powers are keyed to these doorways. It’s to prevent anyone from escaping. Damien’s mental voice was soft, even a little distracted. I wondered if he was trying to scan the room, to see if he could gain any more information about what was occurring shortly.
Hiro’s hand was ghosting lightly over the small of my back. I know he wanted to pull me into him, to help shield me and control my emotions, but we all knew that was impossible. Not only did the Council still view us as friends, but it would make me look weak in front of the mass of shifters that surrounded us. Weakness here would not
be tolerated—it would be exploited.
I turned my attention back to the other Council members, trying to see if I could get any kind of read on them. Councilman Rahal and Councilman Williams were speaking quietly, their lips shielded by their hands so that even if someone in the audience could read lips, they would struggle. Councilman Khan was nearly sprawled in his seat, sipping from a glass of what I assumed was a dark liquor, his focus on the women milling close to his throne rather than the drama that was unfolding. Councilman Maldonado worried me, however. A small, dark smile twisted his lips, and he was practically vibrating with excitement. His eyes were flashing lightly, and he gripped the handles of his throne tightly as if he would lose control of himself if he couldn’t keep himself grounded.
He is excited by the potential of blood. Hiro’s voice was laced with disgust. Most of us try not to fall into the stereotypes of our supernatural half. Wolf shifters don’t usually howl at the moon; fairies don’t hold drunken parties… some of us though, either can’t or won’t break the stereotypes. Councilman Maldonado is the only Manananggal I have met—he lives for the fear that his creature inspires and for what he calls “the beauty of blood in the song of death”. He’s twisted, Nix. Stay away from him.
I shivered slightly, wanting to lean into his touch. It’s not like he needed to tell me that again. My Phoenix and I had been wary of him when we had first heard his description. When we saw him at our first meeting with the Council, we knew he was not a man to cross. There was something about him that wasn’t quite right—as if he lacked any of the natural graces of humanity. My attention was drawn back to Councilman Stepanov when he took his seat. His eyes were hard as they studied me, and I assumed he hadn’t removed them from me before this point. He had been making a study of my perusal of the room and my reaction to everything I was seeing and thinking. He crossed his legs slowly, his fingers pressed against his lips as if holding in a secret.
With a creaking moan, the panel slowly began to slide from the wall. A figure staggered into the room, cocooned in silver light as if it was creating a wall around him to separate him from the observers in the room. I gasped, nearly staggering as he took another sluggish step forward.
Michael. The word was almost a whimper in my head. My Phoenix shrieked, wings flapping in rage. I couldn’t quite tell who she mad at—Michael for existing and being so close to us and our guys, the Council for springing this on us, or the humor and scorn currently covering the face of Councilman Stepanov.
Damien took a step forward, turning his body to better shield our group. My brave warrior. I was so grateful to Theo for the lessons we had been having. While my fingers ached with the need to throw up walls of flame, I was able to maintain a choke hold on my Phoenix and keep her from overwhelming me.
Councilman Khan’s voice was surprisingly soft as he spoke, yet it echoed throughout the now silent chamber. “This part-blood,” hisses echoed through the chamber at this pronouncement, “has violated multiple laws of our society. He willfully murdered an extremely rare mythological.”
I froze, going completely numb. Even the fire inside me sputtered at the ice that was quickly filling my veins. I had known he had to have been the one who killed my mother, but to hear it announced to the public, to have her life value reduced to her shifter class, made it all feel real, and my heart nearly broke.
Chin up, Annie girl. They’re bastards. Don’t let them see they’re getting to you. Use your mask. We’ll make it better later. Killian’s rough voice filled my head, a soothing stroke helping to hold back the tidal wave inside of me.
“He then stole her daughter, the only other Phoenix shifter known to have existed in over three hundred years. Instead of bringing her to the Council and turning himself in for our justice, as was his duty, he ran with the child. He decided to raise her amongst humans as he owns no powers of his own. He planned to cultivate blood from the child once she shifted.”
The ice was slowly starting to edge from my veins at the cries of anger and disgust that filled the room behind me. He was pouring my entire past out to the public. Yes, it was in the guise of explaining Michael’s actions to allow for whatever punishment they had planned, but from the smiles gracing the faces of Councilman Stepanov, Councilman Maldonado, and Councilman Rahal, I was fairly certain that this level of explanation was unnecessary.
They could be trying to garner pity for you. Theo's voice was hard, but considering, as he answered my thoughts through our link. If the other shifters have an idea of why you don’t understand our culture, why you may make simple mistakes, or act human at times, it may buy you some safety. Their pity will give you a buffer against any offense that may be caused.
Or, they’re just being assholes and like hurting her for not falling in line with them. Killian’s voice was hot, and I could tell he was starting to struggle to hold back his Puca.
Also a probability. Theo admitted dryly.
“We have heard testimony from the offender himself, as well as from other witnesses, that instead of at least caring for the girl, teaching her of her heritage, he took an antiquated approach in her raising. Trying to force a shift so that he could harvest from her, he spent the sixteen years he had her under his control abusing and torturing her and passing her to other humans for abuse. He had hoped that physical abuse would not only make her easier to control, but that the pain and the frequent deaths would force her Phoenix to rise.”
Ahmya had stepped closer to her father and was now studying me with an interest that made my skin itch. It seemed that most of the room had figured out that the Council was referring to me. Many looked at me with outright pity; others refused to meet my gaze. My guys took a step closer to me, helping to shield me from the other’s view.
“Her Phoenix did not rise, however. Without the help of family or the Council, her Phoenix remained subdued, only able to lend enough power to her to help her to live through the abuse rather than protect her.” My Phoenix hissed in my head, and I mimicked the noise. How dare he speak poorly of my Phoenix? Without her, I would be dead dozens of times over. “Only fate had her moving to Alaska to start college here. As she came to realize what she was, to allow her Phoenix to rise under the direction of strong mythologicals, the offender followed her. Again refusing to follow his duties to the Council, he continued to hunt her. He killed her again.” Cries of appall rippled from some throats, followed by shouts of disgust and anger.
“While we would have preferred finding out immediately about her when other shifters on campus recognized what she was,” Councilman Lacroix interrupted, “the shifters who found her tried to take on protection duties of their new friend. While the effort is commendable, we encourage each one of you to remember that we are here to help. You may not know some of the nuances of protection. There may be circumstances at play you are unaware of. We encourage all of you to come to us with problems. Even if you think you're protecting someone, let us help. It is our duty to all of you.” The smile on his face was soft as he viewed the room, looking from face to face. Murmurs of approval surrounded his words, and several people stepped forward, as if they needed to be closer to him to feel his words.
Councilman Khan continued, ignoring the interruption and the mild scolding of my men. I had been angry before, but now I wanted to scream. To publicly humiliate my men? For doing exactly what I had asked them to do? For being the best friends anyone could ever have? How dare they think they knew what was best in every situation.
Steady, sweetheart. Damien called out. I think they’re trying to get a reaction from you. Keep your walls strong. My father is keeping a general shield over the room making it harder for me to get information but I’m close. He’ll be doing the same searching I’m doing. Don’t give him anything he may have to disclose to the other members. He takes his duty seriously.
I tried to draw a deep breath without moving my chest. I needed the air to keep me calm, but I couldn't let my body give me away any more than I could let my thoughts give me
away. I had to appear as solid, confident, and collected as my guys. A quick glance showed that they all maintained cool masks. It was odd seeing the nearly bored expression painted on Ryder’s face.
Do what I do, picture them naked. You’ll be incredibly bored—and fairly disgusted. Ryder’s teasing voice filled my head, though I could hear the strain in it.
“When she recovered from the shooting, he again made an attempt on her life. This time with illegally obtained Vish Kanya venom.” People reeled, most of the room now turning to gape at me, standing solidly in front of the dais. “Her special skills allowed her to do what almost none have ever done—survive. The offender managed to escape and ran from justice like the coward he is. Councilman Ishida? Nix?”
The Councilman waived his hands, drawing Michael forward. Pressure at my back from Hiro’s warm hand had me moving forward. Michael and I were both only steps from the thrones. Councilman Ishida took his seat, his outstretched hand maintaining a soft glow, I assumed locking Michael in place.
“Now, it is the time for judgment. Annika Coxx, do you see the man who claimed to be your father? Who abused you and attempted to murder you on multiple occasions?” Councilman Rahal’s voice was harsh, echoing loudly in comparison to Councilman Khan’s soft speech.
Point him out, Nix. Theo’s voice was almost a warning. It’s considered your duty, or you’ll be lying to the Council.
“Councilman Rahal, yes, I do. Michael Coxx, right there.” I pointed at Michael, not wanting to turn and face him directly.
“Please note that the man identified as Michael Coxx is actually Henri Gagnon. He is a part-blood shifter. He has been identified by both the oppressed as well as multiple witnesses. Once we were made aware of the situation, we were able to quickly find and apprehend the perpetrator. Our research has shown that all charges against him are accurate as stated. Therefore, in front of the shifter community, this Council will now pass judgment.”