Chapter 26
Josh
Elijah’s words plagued me in a near-constant loop from the moment he left to the moment I was escorted out of my holding cell and back into the courtroom.
I glanced at him as I moved to take my seat.
His face was a resolute mask, while his eyes were liquid pools of empathetic cognac.
The bond pulsed in my chest, and I knew he felt it too.
Children. Elijah wants children.
The fact that he’d practically threatened me with a family didn’t even matter.
A real family to call my own had been all I’d ever wanted.
A family filled with laughter and unconditional love, walks hand-in-hand down the street, and all the support you could stomach.
It was a dream I’d been too afraid to have until Elijah had woken me to the reality.
Now that dream lived in him, and I’d do nearly anything to make it come true.
In order for that to happen, though, there was only one path I could take—the riskiest.
I leaned over to whisper into Lombardi’s ear. His eyebrows rose in quiet surprise, but he didn’t question my decision. Just gave a simple nod and replaced one tablet with another.
No sooner did I finish conveying the change in plans than the doors opened and the panel reemerged.
Each member filed in and took their appropriate seat, from the human delegates on the left to the supernatural on the right.
Despite my early success in creating friction between the two groups, they seemed to have found a new balance.
The gavel rang pure and clear, slicing through the muted noise, and Senator Stevens’ voice filled the void. “This tribunal is now back in session. Prosecution, call your witness.”
Camilla Hightower stood gracefully from her chair. “Prosecution calls Detective Joshua Hart.”
I straightened in my chair.
“Objection!” Lombardi shouted, causing me to falter momentarily. “Prosecution established their intent to call Beatrice Harker to the stand prior to recess.”
“Sustained,” Senator Cowan responded.
The Chancellor of the Elements smacked their hand on the table with a loud crack. “Overruled. These proceedings are not pursuant to your human laws. Detective Hart will take the chair.”
I looked over at Lombardi, who appeared less than pleased at the change in events. He stood, displaying a composure contradicted by the fire burning in his eyes, and addressed the panel.
“Esteemed Assembly, as I was under the impression Beatrice Harker would be testifying next, I have not prepared my questions.”
The Ambassador of the Winter Court turned up her nose. “Detective Hart is on the list of viable witnesses to be called. You were provided with this list in advance. It is the prosecution's witness, and they are within acceptable standards to call whomever on the list they so choose.”
“Is there a problem?” There wasn’t an ounce of apology in Senator McMillan’s eyes.
“Not at all. I merely need a moment to confer with my client.”
“Granted. Be quick.”
I spun to Lombardi. “If they demand to test the oaths, you get him out of here. Understood?”
“That is highly irregular.”
“Immediately. Do not wait for me. Don’t let him follow. Get him as far away as fast as you can and do not leave his side until court is recalled. Do you understand?”
Lombardi gave a sharp nod as Elijah leaned forward. “What are you talking about? I’m not leaving.”
I met Elijah’s concerned gaze. “I’m so sorry, baby.
Just know you’re going to be okay, that I’m going to be okay.
No matter what it feels like, I’m not actually dying.
” His eyes widened, and I saw the questions tumbling to get out.
I quickly stood and advanced to the designated chair before I could lose my nerve.
All eyes riveted on me the moment I settled.
Hightower stalked toward me like she’d smelled fresh blood. “Detective Hart, would you please state your real name for the panel?”
“Joshua Hart.”
Her jaw tightened. “And the name on your birth certificate?”
“Joshua Hart.”
Fire blazed in her brown eyes. “Need I remind you that you are under oath?”
“I have been obligated to speak nothing but the truth since I was eighteen. Perhaps you are simply asking the wrong question.” Little disappointing really. Camilla Hightower was one of the finest prosecutors in a dozen countries, yet Elijah had picked up on the right question almost immediately.
She took a moment to pull herself together. “Let me rephrase. What is your family name? Your ancestral heritage?”
“Harker.”
“Is it true that you are the last male heir?”
“It is.”
“Is it also true that the Harker family, to which you belong, has built a centuries-old reputation on the hunting of lycanthropes?”
“No. The Harker family—my family—has built its reputation on being the best werewolf hunters the world has ever known.”
A wave of unrest went through the gathered crowd at my use of the taboo term.
Undaunted, Hightower persevered. “And did you participate in this family legacy?”
“I did.”
“Care to elaborate?”
I contained the urge to glare at her. Vague questions were the bane of any Lycan Detective’s existence. “Not particularly.”
Rather than be irritated, Camilla seemed to have realized her mistake. “When did you first learn of your heritage?”
“The earliest I can remember, I was three.” I failed to elaborate that the lesson had also come with a beating.
“Break down how it evolved from there. First kill, and so forth.” Hightower was definitely learning.
“My first hunt was at seven and my first kill at thirteen. To date, I have killed fifty-three unsanctioned werewolves.”
Shock exploded across her face and spread to every corner of the room upon hearing the truth. In the background, Elijah shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t anything he didn’t already know, but I imagined he didn’t appreciate me volunteering the information either.
“Is that why you became a Lycan Detective? To perpetuate and enable your hatred of lycanthropes?” Hightower turned to address the still upset masses and the media capturing every second of this farce.
“As a Lycan Detective, you would have had all the cover you needed to kill any Lycan that crossed your path.”
Lombardi stood, calmly smoothing his tie. “Objection. The prosecutor is testifying.”
“Sustained,” Senator Johnson said quickly, shooting a glare at the supernatural half of the panel, already leaning forward to interject.
Not remotely intimidated, the Ambassador of the Winter Court ignored the senator entirely and turned her icy gaze on me. “And yet, I would like to hear the response. The defendant will answer the question posed with the truth, as he is beholden to do.”
“If the prosecutor could restate the question for the court,” Senator Cowan said.
Much to my surprise, the Kisin Emissary leaned forward. “And kindly rephrase. If this tribunal wants your testimony, Miss Hightower, we will call you to the stand.”
I couldn’t really fault Camilla for needing a moment to compose herself. The entire Council of Supernaturals was terrifying in its own right, but Kisin demons held a special fear for humans. “Detective Hart, did you enroll in the Lycan Detective program to further your family’s mission?”
“No.”
She swiveled back to face me. “Excuse me?”
I stood up, and several guards stepped forward. “Being a Lycan Detective comes with a thorough oversight committee. In addition, I do not hate werewolves. I never have.”
Several members of the panel surged to their feet in outrage. “Lies!” Senator Cowan shouted.
“Lycan Detectives can only speak the truth,” I countered.
Senator McMillan cast a wary glance towards the Ambassador of the Winter Court. “Unless he has found a way around the oaths.”
The ambassador blistered with indignant rage and lurched to her feet. “If the viability of his oaths is in question, then his oaths shall be tested.” She snapped her fingers with a sound like a cracking glacier.
Instantly a wiry, well-groomed man in equally lavish attire as the ambassador appeared in the center of the court. He bowed low. “Your ladyship, to what do I owe the honor?”
“Robin, assemble the engravers at once.”
Mischief glittered in his eyes. “Is there to be a new detective already?”
“Our methods have been called into question. There is speculation that the oaths have been circumvented.”
The man let out an evil cackle that set every hair on end, then disappeared as abruptly as he’d arrived.
“Bring him to the Chamber of Fírinne. His oaths will be tested, and this tribunal will resume on the morrow.” The Ambassador of the Winter Court glared icily at the representatives of the United Federation of Humans before she too winked out.
Elijah
Literally nothing that was happening made sense. How had we gone from straightforward questions to believing Josh’s oaths couldn’t be trusted? I stood, joining the host of other people who suddenly found themselves too restless to remain seated.
Across the court, the group of soldiers advancing on Josh suddenly halted. A shout went up at the same time a bright light flared at the heart of the group.
“What’s going on?” I asked, blinking rapidly. As my eyes cleared, I realized Josh and half the escort of soldiers were gone, leaving the other half standing around in dazed confusion. “Where the hell is Josh?!”
“Shit.” Lombardi moved faster than I’d ever seen him. In one sweep, all of his notes and data tabs tumbled into his case. He scooped it up and encircled my upper arm in an alarmingly tight grip.
“What happened? Where did he go?”
“We’re leaving.”
“What about Josh?” I craned my neck to search for the man the bond in my chest told me couldn’t be there.
“I don’t know how much time we have.” Lombardi yanked my arm and pushed us through the milling throng of confused spectators. He refused to release me until we were in his hover car and the driver was speeding towards the hotel.
Back in the room, I rounded on Lombardi and returned to demanding answers. “What in the moon’s name was that all about? Where did they take Josh? Why did we just leave him?”
Lombardi walked over to the en suite bar and poured a sizable glass of whiskey. He shot it back, then refilled the glass along with another, which he held out to me. “Detective Hart has been taken to the Chamber of Fírinne, deep in the heart of ancient Fae land. There they will test his oaths.”
“But his oaths are fine. Trust me, there are plenty of things he would have loved to lie about in the last year.”
“Be that as it may, they will be tested nonetheless.” He sipped his whiskey, though he looked like he’d prefer to down it as he had the first.
“How will they do that?”
Lombardi focused his intense, fire-filled gaze on me, and for the first time since we met there was a hint of empathy in those burning depths. “They will re-administer them.”
I sat heavily on the bed. “Can they do that?”
“Whether they can is irrelevant. They will.”
“But… but Josh said it was the worst thing he’d ever endured. Worse even than the change. Will it kill him?”
“No. They’ll make sure he doesn’t die, but it won’t change the fact that he’ll wish he could.” He held out the second whiskey again. “Take this.”
“I don’t want it.”
“You will.” His tone frightened me, and I accepted the glass with a shaking hand.
After a tentative sip, I lowered it and watched him pour himself another. “You have to cross-examine Josh.”
Lombardi glanced over his shoulder. “Of course.”
“That’s not what I mean. You can’t let him get away with taking the blame for everything. He’s not as guilty as he insists on being. Ask him the hard questions and don’t let up until he relents.”
He gestured for me to take another drink.
I followed his lead and knocked back the whole thing.
He refilled the glass with the bottle he’d obtained from the bar, and I noticed another resting by his side. “What questions did you have in mind?”
“Ask about his direct involvement. His mother has been controlling him with magic for years. He can’t be held fully accountable for things he couldn’t control.”
“That’s an enlightened approach. What else?” he asked as he topped off my glass, though it was still half full.
“Ask him how many weres he’s saved over the years.”
“Saved, you say? Imagine that, a Harker not only married and bonded to a lycan, but saving them as well. One might begin to think he had no interest in slaying lycans at all.”
More of the amber liquid found its way into my glass. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to get you drunk. Lycans have an increased tolerance, however, and I’m going to need you to drink much faster. I fear we haven’t the time to spare.”
I drained the glass. “Haven’t the time until what?”
Searing light shot through the bond. My glass slipped from my suddenly slack grip to shatter on the floor.
Glass flew across the room as I fell back.
Agony flooded every nerve ending as the bond continued to pulse with unbearable light.
This light, however, wasn’t warm and comforting; it was vivid green and violent.
I gasped and clawed at my chest. My fingers dug into the skin beneath my shirt even as light exploded behind my eyes.
I’d never been in so much pain in my life, and it just kept coming.
It played inside my body like lightning unable to ground, relentlessly zapping every cell without distinction.
My body bowed off the bed as the agony found new heights.
Even the change offered the relief of darkness, but darkness never came.