Chapter 54
Matt
Erroll of Morgaine’s crimes against the non-human community shock everyone and it takes the announcer quite a few minutes to list them all. He stands in the Cage with his head held high like he thinks he’s going to win this fight, which, to be honest, going against a fire talent might have caused me doubt before, but I am a fucking Obsidite, all I have to do it harden my skin, which is how my people live and work with magma. Plus, he’s not like Gage, who threw a fucking fireball at me, his talent is limited to his hands.
This is the first time I’ve seen the man, but he fits the description of the person Deejay glimpsed in his cursed mirror. Long black hair and long pointed ears that reach to the crown of his head; he’s tall, like Deejay, with a permanent sneer in his utterly beautiful face. Unfortunately, his wispy, shadowy aura tells me that his beauty is only skin deep. The man has no boundaries at all, and kidnapping my babies was just one crime in a long, appalling list.
When the announcer finishes pronouncing the death sentence, and the gong rings, I don’t wait for him to attack. I move toward him, but he dodges and runs around the Cage instead of meeting me head on; he must not be confident in his hand-to-hand combat skills. So, I limit my chase, letting him expend his energy rather than me. He’s faster than I am, but he’s also been in a cell for about twenty-four hours, so it doesn’t take long before he actually trips over his own feet. I sprint the short distance between us, hardening my skin and kick him as he falls, throwing him into the chain link. The iron threading through the Cage sears him and saps his energy. Instead of landing and getting back up, he trembles in his attempt. I grab his long hair and punch him, breaking his face. Then I do what I swore to Deejay I would.
I rip him apart, tearing flesh, taking his arms first, then his legs. My hardened skin tears through his soft tissue better than the claws I grew when I fought the Demon. His screams echo through the arena, silencing the rapt spectators. The only other sound is my furious roar as I twist his head off his neck, executing justice like the Headsman I am.
I hold it aloft, displaying the gruesome end of Erroll of Morgaine for his victims, the Judiciary Council, and the entire non-human community to see. This is why he worked to keep me out of the Cage; he knew if he met me here, I would have no mercy. Too bad for him that his quest to avoid this fate led him straight to it.
The gong sounds. The arena remains silent as enforcers carry his remains away in the pieces I left him in. Then the announcer comes back.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, because of the crimes Erroll of Morgaine committed against the children of the Headsman, the Queen of Morgaine has offered reparation to the Headsman by petitioning the Judiciary Council to pardon his crime and overturn his conviction. The council agreed to the pardon. Because our Headsman is no longer obligated by his conviction to be here, as a means of imploring him to remain our Headsman, he is being given the rest of the weekend to be with his family. Please thank our Headsman for his service tonight and make him feel your hope that he will retain his position.”
The arena explodes in a thunderous roar as the Queen of Morgaine appears at the door of the Cage. I walk to her, surprised by this turn of fate. She looks at me with a carefully neutral expression as she speaks to me. “Loretta Long is no longer in charge of the Houston Hub. The council expects your presence at seven pm on Monday to renegotiate the terms of your employment, should you choose to remain the Headsman. I encourage you to come prepared with what you will require to remain the Headsman; there simply are not many non-humans of your caliber.”
“I will consider this carefully,”
I promise.
She inclines her head once, a nod of respect that causes the arena’s thundering crowd to get louder. I bow back, giving the regal Queen my respect, and leave the arena. I dress in the room assigned to the Headsman and then head home, thinking about the turn of events tonight.
I’ve spent every waking moment since I got the twins back with the family. Yesterday night, the Judiciary Council excused me from my Headsman duties because of the chaos Erroll caused in the last six weeks. I’d skipped the trial but heard snippets on my way in that along with Erroll, the council had tried Loretta and Chanda, and Loretta’s right hand man, Haverty, and Robbie of all people. I didn’t get details, the only thing I cared to ask about was Robbie.
Fortunately, no one could accuse him of conspiring with Erroll and the evidence confirmed his innocence. None of the rest of them escaped conviction, though I have no idea what their punishments are. Taking control of the Houston Hub away from Loretta is probably good, but just based on my experience alone, the justice system of this place needs some revamping.
I should never have been convicted in absentia to death for the mistake with Robbie. I didn’t have the opportunity to defend myself because I didn’t get a trial. Once Loretta could prove Robbie’s minor status with no shortage of witnesses, she didn’t need a trial to convict me. Mistakes like mine shouldn’t end in a death sentence. And I think I’m lucky that the Queen of Morgaine took enough interest in my case to overturn the conviction, but how many others in a similar situation found themselves in the Cage and couldn’t win?
When I get home, I find Deejay sitting in the rocking chair in the nursery, reading an old tome. He hasn’t left the twins’ side since yesterday, which I understand. He jumps up, startled when I tap on the door frame. His eyes widen in surprise as he realizes it's me. I knock my head toward his bedroom, which causes him to hesitate, looking over his shoulder at the twins. I know he doesn’t want to leave them, I get it, but he needs to sleep, and I’m not sure he has yet.
I offer him my hand, not moving toward him—this needs to be his choice. He needs to take the steps toward normalcy of his own free will. I can’t force him, but I sure as hell can hold his hand while he does what he should.
He stares at my hand, swallowing hard before stepping to me and putting his hand in mine. I walk with him to his room, not dragging him, not leading him, just being with him as he puts one foot in front of the other, leaving the twins in their cribs, in their room without him to watch over them. It’s hard for me too, but I know it’s a thousand times more difficult for him. I don’t stop walking until we get into the master bathroom, then I shut the door and pull him into a hug. “Good job,”
I murmur, clenching him to me as he presses into the hug.
“It shouldn’t be this hard,”
he chokes out, muffled by his face in my shirt.
“It will get easier,”
I assure him gently.
“I’m scared someone will come take them from me again.”
“Not going to happen.”
He clutches me harder for a short time before pulling back and looking up at me. “How are you home?”
“I’ve been pardoned, the conviction overturned, and given the weekend to consider whether I will remain the Headsman or quit working. I’m not going to think about it tonight, so ignore it. Tonight, I want to shower with you and hold you while we sleep. I just want to love you right now.”
Deejay wipes his eyes and nods. “That sounds...really nice.”
I help him out of the clothes he’s worn for three days, then start the shower before stripping mine off. I pull him in with me, and help him wash away the last three days, running my hands over every part of him, washing his hair—just pampering him.
He submits fully to my ministrations, entrusting me with his whole self: body, mind, heart, and soul. When I am finished, I quickly scrub myself down then turn off the water, drying him with a soft towel before wrapping him in his robe. Then I take him to bed, curl around him and hold him until morning, dozing in and out of sleep, but unable to sleep deeply. He twitches a lot, mumbles and whimpers, and every time the nightmares come, I hold him close and murmur assurances into his ear until he settles again.
It’s going to take time and work to heal, but I’m here with him and I will work with him to get to the next version of normal we can fit our broken selves into.