Chapter Seven #2
“Good question. We can ask your fa—” I suggested, but he silenced me with a raised hand before calling his dad to have a hushed conversation that amounted to his phone wasn’t found, and some of the files he had of mine were missing.
“Okay. I’d like to know which ones were taken when you have time.
We’re nearing the courthouse. Thanks, Father.
” Esmeray hung up and stacked my documents once more before tucking my phone in his shirt pocket aimlessly.
“Father says to keep our relationship under wraps. He’s your lawyer after this session.
I can’t represent you moving forward after this. ”
We made it to the courthouse steps in record time, rushing up through crowds of milling people. I kept an eye out for something specific—whoever appeared surprised to see us.
As expected, as we bustled into the courtroom, Lymmings and his attorney wheeled around, both doing their best to tame down their surprise after but a breath.
Esmeray led the way, grabbing onto my hand as he brought me to the little table up front where the people on trial usually sat.
He ushered me into a seat and sat beside me, sitting up with a blank face.
The judge stared at us with unease. “Mage Hawthorne?”
“Yes, Your Honor?” I acknowledged him by standing politely and earned a slow nod as he turned attention to Esmeray. “Young Faust? I was under the impression Draevus was handling this case.”
“No, Your Honor. There were extenuating circumstances. I normally do not handle cases directly, but due scheduling conflicts—” Esmeray cleared his throat as the judge interrupted.
“Your father should balance his schedule better! There’s no excuse for altering a docket.” He frowned, but Esmeray nodded in agreement.
“I wholeheartedly agree, Your Honor. An attempt was made on my life two days ago that was a near miss, and it appears that there was an explosion at my father’s home not that long ago, which has him tied up with the authorities.
” Esmeray offered a grave smile that had the judge giving a hesitant nod.
“Extenuating circumstances, indeed. Have you any proo—” Esmeray pushed the collar of his shirt down slightly. The cut had almost healed, but the stitches remained. “Good Lord!”
Esmeray flinched at the blessing but didn’t react otherwise. “As for the explosion—maybe turn on local news?”
A bailiff drew out his phone and typed away, extending a hand over to the judge for a quick glance. “You’re fully excused. All this and you managed to arrive on time!”
“Thank you for your understanding, sir. I assure you, I’m prepared.
I had everything ready before all this happened, just in case.
” Esmeray tidied up his stack in a calculatedly nervous gesture.
I had seen him mid-orgasm, had seen his hesitation there, his unease and anxious expression. That wasn’t it.
“I believe during discovery I turned in a document to your email with my counterpoints to Mr. Lymmings’s claim. But I have yet to hear his testimony. Only his claims.” Esmeray folded his hands as he sat down, and the judge leafed through his documents with a slow nod.
“Very thorough. So, we have here the claim that Mr. Lymmings has been dealt grievous bodily harm and injury by way of hex or curse. His claims are that Mage Hawthorne or another member of the Lowell Valley Coven has acted as an accomplice or individually to incapacitate his genitals, restricting Mr. Lymmings from performing sexually.” The judge ground his teeth a little as he read the claims, and Malarthe Lymmings tried his best to appear sheepish and sad.
I tuned most of it out, the accusations and pity party growing by the moment.
“And he doesn’t even have the gall to show his true form in court!” Malarthe pointed at me with a sneer.
I blinked in surprise and opened my mouth, but silenced when Esmeray reached over, hand on mine in a comforting sort of way.
“Mage Hawthorne, have you something to say?” The judge, clearly confused, stared.
Esmeray, on my behalf, spoke. “Mage Hawthorne is a hybrid shifter. He’s rather cruelly known as the neckromancer. His giraffid form from his head to neck is his baseline form, but he presents in his human form.”
The judge frowned as Esmeray tightened his grip. From the corner of my eye, I caught Ausmius making a little stabby gesture as if offering to take care of Lymmings. I did my best to ignore him, really, because daevas could be incorrigible if given attention.
“And what do you have to say, Mage Hawthorne?” The judge pointed at me, and I glanced at Esmeray, who gave me a terse glance that told me to watch what I said.
“It is as my attorney says. I am a hybrid—” I flinched as someone in the gallery coughed, muttering mongrim under their breath. “And I assume my human form as any shifter does in polite society.”
But from the look of the judge, knowing I was hybrid and seeing it were two different things.
“I’d feel more comfortable if he weren’t trying to hide what his appearance was to garner sympathy.” Malarthe kept his tone quiet, wheedling out his victimization.
“Objection,” Esmeray said, raising a hand as his face fell into an emotionless mask.
“Your Honor. My client has been irrevocably harmed by this mage!” Malarthe’s lawyer cleared his throat. “It’s a small request that he not hide behind a glamor.”
“Overruled, Faust. Mage Hawthorne, if you’d please?
” The judge sighed and waved a hand at me, and I flinched only the slightest bit before shifting to let my long neck reach toward the ceiling, eyes spreading, fur sprouting.
Shifting to my base form wasn’t the relief it usually was.
Being mated really had a perk, but I flicked my ears and blinked impassively, nonetheless.
“Thank you, Mage Hawthorne,” the opposing attorney said with a simpering smile that held so much venom beneath it. Knowing one was a mongrim and witnessing it were two very different things.
“You needed only ask. I assume my human form for the comfort of others and to more easily occupy spaces.” I held my body straight and treasured the warm touch of my mate as Esmeray squeezed once, glancing up at me with a fierceness that told me he’d make Malarthe pay.
I hoped he did.