Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Emma loathed having the gemstone within five feet of her, but for their journey back to New York City, she rode in the passenger seat with it clutched in her hand, only a velvet sack separating her skin from the awful thing.
She left nothing to chance, determined to avoid Sariel slipping free by manipulating another mortal.
According to River, the fallen angel couldn’t influence a vampire, placing only human magic users at risk of corruption. Despite that, she and a handful of witches she’d gathered from the area collaborated and weaved an incredible bevy of enchantments into the jewel pouch.
As for why the fallen archangel hadn’t detected a deity in her presence, River hadn’t yet fully regained all of her gifts as the goddess Circe. Emma still had no idea how the whole witch reincarnation worked, but she’d been willing to accept River’s explanation.
“Do you want me to drive for a while?” Emma asked.
“No, I’m good. Besides, that thing creeps me out. I don’t know how you can hold it.”
“It’s not like we have a choice.”
He frowned and said nothing, but she knew his thoughts on the matter. If he’d had his way, they would have interred the Eye in a concrete block and tossed it in the ocean. Or a really deep hole somewhere.
“Are you sure she’s locked up tight? I mean, you two left a wing out.”
“River says there isn’t a way to stuff it inside the gem with her. It’s not like realizing you forgot to pack up all the dinner leftovers and opening the Tupperware lid.”
Adrian shot her a side glance, but chuckled. “No, I suppose it isn’t. Still, I can’t believe she kept it. It should have been burned.”
Emma shrugged. At the time, River had made a compelling argument for saving the severed angel wing. And who was she to argue with a demigoddess? “It’ll be alchemical reagents in a few days anyway. So does it matter? A part’s a part.”
He grunted. “Guess you’re right.”
“Still, it was nice of them to let us stay at their place a few days to rest after that ordeal. I forgot how much I miss Texas….” She gazed out the window at the urban sprawl rising around them once they’d crossed the bridge into Manhattan.
They’d been driving for three nights, racing the sun and making only necessary stops.
“Eventually the council will want to rebuild a coven there. You could always go back when they do.”
“Maybe… but first we have to get this back to them.” She hefted the bag in her hand. “What do you think they’ll do with it?”
“No idea,” he answered. “My guess is it will end up in one of their many vaults, locked away and forgotten like the Arc of the Covenant or something.”
Emma tipped her head against the cool glass and watched the scenery change from green trees to the beginning of urban sprawl. “That was a warehouse, not a vault.”
“Sitting amidst thousands of unlabeled boxes? May as well have been the same.”
With two hours remaining until sunrise, they reached their destination and pulled in front of the limestone manor. The council’s valet relieved them of the vehicle and a butler, standing watch outside as if he’d expected them, guided both inside.
“Please tell the elders we require an immediate audience,” she told the butler. All Emma wanted to do was hand over the relic and be done with the whole thing. To face her fate.
“They’ve been awaiting your arrival.”
They headed upstairs side by side and made their way to the audience chamber.
Although Emma couldn’t recall the exact order, the nine members of the council had rearranged their chairs.
Wondering if there was a rhyme or reason to the adjustment in pattern, she stepped forward and bent her knees into a deep curtsy. Behind her, Adrian bowed.
“Greetings, Elders. I’ve acquired the Eye of Sariel, as commanded.”
“Excellent. Bring it to me,” Chancellor Julius said.
Emma stepped up to him and deposited the bag into his hand. Julius poured the gemstone into his open palm and studied it, even holding it up to the light between two fingers before he returned it to the pouch.
“There’s a witch’s enchantment woven into this fabric. Explain this to me.”
Sweat beaded on her brow. “Grand Enchantress River Jackson called several of her peers together after we reclaimed the Eye. They’ve sewn wards into the velvet with threads and magic.”
“You obtained assistance from the Daughters of the Moon?” A crease deep as a fissure divided Berengar’s forehead.
“From Circe herself?” Margaret’s ginger brows drew together.
“I did, yes. Also, the leader of the San Antonio wolf pack.”
As she radiated dissatisfaction, Chancellor Aasiyah’s lips curled into a sneer. She leaned forward and fixed them beneath one of her usual baleful glares. “Tell us everything. We found Master Kennedy’s updates to be brief and… dissatisfying.”
From the beginning, Emma recounted every step of their journey, from the discovery of the hunters in the Motor Inn to their trek to Washington, D.C.
She left out nothing, assuming a clinical tone as she described her own near-death experience without details, skimming over the damage she’d sustained during Joshua Tate’s solar spell.
Julius stared at her. “You survived.”
“I did. Adrian removed me from the danger. After that, we contacted the local witch representative.”
“Did you not realize the sensitive nature of this quest?” Yoshisuke demanded. “Had we wanted every supernatural entity from Texas to Louisiana to know of the Eye’s presence, we could have informed them ourselves.”
“I did realize, but I weighed my options and determined the necessity for success outweighed any risks involved by including the others. Our foe was stronger than us. I made a judgment call.”
“What if one of those foul hags chose to abscond with the relic?” Vladimir asked. “How would you have stopped her?”
“By killing her,” Emma replied more sharply than she’d than intended, with enough heat in her voice for the elder’s brows to raise in unconcealed surprise. She continued her narrative without further interruption and walked them through the steps that took her and her allies to New Orleans.
At the end, no one spoke. Nine pairs of unyielding stares bored into Emma and through her. Laid emotionally bare, she waited for one of them to accept her story as satisfactory. Or call for her death.
“A final question,” Clarice murmured.
“Yes, Elder?”
“Why do you reek of Master Kennedy?”
Emma found herself under scrutiny, studied no less intensely than a bug beneath a microscope. Chancellor Aasiyah’s eyes flew open wide. Her nostrils flared, the scent of their mingled blood no doubt reaching her nose.
“I am waiting for your answer.”
“I…” Her breath shuddered in and out. Before Emma could concoct an excuse, or even hope to explain their relationship and what had happened, Adrian stepped forward.
“Emma and I have exchanged blood frequently enough to create a bond.”
“Do you take us to be fools, Master Kennedy? More than a mere exchange of fluids is required to create a blood bond,” Aasiyah challenged.
Adrian said nothing. Neither did Emma. Any member of the council could probably look through the shadow world and see the unmistakable link between them, if the concentration of Adrian’s blood in her veins hadn’t been enough of a clue.
Shit. She’d known it would happen, but she hadn’t been prepared for them to address it.
Clarice clucked her tongue. “My fellow members of the council, it appears Master Kennedy has a confession to relay.”
Beside Aasiyah, Yoshisuke stroked his dark beard and contemplated them.
“Hai. It does seem the master lacks the restraint to adhere to our policies. More than once, you have broken the rules by fraternizing with a junior vampire within your own coven,” the former samurai said. “Once, we were willing to ignore.”
Margaret leaned forward. “But twice is a misfortune. We cannot ignore this failure to adhere to our rules.”
“The separation between elders and pupils must be maintained,” Clarice agreed in an even tone.
“Then I place myself before the mercy of this council. I won’t apologize for my actions, and I take complete responsibility for what was done.”
The eerie, nonverbal communication between the chancellors unnerved her, but standing beside Adrian, she could face whatever they decided to dish out. All nine elders exchanged nods, though their expressions varied from pleasure to disappointment.
“We are ready to judge you both.”
Julius rose and stepped forward. He circled them both, hands clasped behind his back, his steps slow but purposeful. When he came around before them, he stopped in front of Emma.
“For your efforts in recovering the Eye of Sariel, we will grant you one request, Adept Emmaleigh Whittaker. What do you ask?”
Startled, she raised her eyes to the Roman vampire’s face. “Anything?”
“Anything,” he confirmed.
“I… won’t attempt to conceal the unprofessional aspect of my relationship with Master Adrian,” she said, glancing to her right. “Or allow him to take the complete blame for what we’ve done. We both knew it was a risk and we chose to take it. Together.”
“That is quite noble of you,” Julius remarked. “And your request?”
“I will share whatever punishment you give him. I only ask that you allow us to remain together to explore what this means.”
“Very well then.”
Behind Julius, the council members exchanged quiet glances. All seemed satisfied save for Aasiyah, who had only two expressions: mean and disgusted. The severe crinkle in her nose set deep wrinkles in her brow, reminding Emma of a woman who’d smelled a skunk.
What punishment, she wondered, did the Egyptian woman wish to bestow? A hundred possibilities drifted through her mind, each more horrible than the last, and more than a few inspired by her favorite mummy movies. Emma shook the thoughts away and hoped the elder hadn’t picked up on them.
Julius remained standing in front of her, his commanding posture as stern as any general, but his dark eyes cut toward Adrian.