61. The Butcher
Chapter 61
The Butcher
Council chambers—The next night
A low hum of voices filled the council chambers. Henry took his seat next to Karen at the defense table. Without Cerissa in the room, Karen shivered, shaking the table. “Have faith,” he whispered low enough that no other vampire ears would hear.
Karen took in a deep breath. “What if Inanna—”
He squeezed her hand. “You trusted Cerissa to turn you. Trust her now.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the closed chamber doors and prayed to Dios that his words were true. They didn’t want to tell her the entire plan in case they had to pivot at the last minute—her sole instructions had been to do whatever he or Cerissa told her to do.
Ari sat in the back row on the aisle, and caught Henry’s gaze, then nodded. Did that mean they had good news? Was Cerissa waiting until after the hearing started to bring Inanna into the room? Ari had worked his magic and created believable travel documents that placed Inanna in Mordida on the key night.
The council took their seats on the dais. The defense team—Marcus and Nicholas—strode in after them. Marcus took the chair closest to the aisle next to Karen at the defense table. She needed to be near her attorney, and Henry and Rolf had flipped coins for the next seat, at Marcus’s insistence. Whoever sat there would be the obvious suspect for being Karen’s maker. Henry ended up in that position. Not that he wasn’t willing to take the fall—but Cerissa had convinced him to hold off.
He’d asked Abigale to reserve a front-row space for Nicholas. The young attorney removed the briefcase resting there, placed it on the floor, and sat behind Marcus.
With everyone settled, Liza banged the gavel. “The public hearing on the unlawful turning of Ms. Karen Turner is called into session. The special prosecutor will state the case.”
Xavier Bench strode into the room and took his place at the table across the aisle, the table Marcus usually sat at when he served as prosecutor.
Henry leaned past Karen and tapped Marcus on the shoulder. “They’re bringing in an executioner as prosecutor? Why that cabron ?”
“Vishon wanted someone who you wouldn’t intimidate, and he’s here anyway to take care of Callistus’s sentence.” Marcus raised an index finger. “Quiet, please, so I may focus.”
Karen’s eyes grew large, and she tugged on Henry’s sleeve. “Who is he?”
“The Butcher. An executioner from San Francisco.”
The nickname came from the joy Xavier took in his job. A sociopathic sadist who’d channeled his inner serial killer into the service of the vampire communities. He only killed when ordered to do so.
Marcus sprang to his feet. “Objection. Mr. Bench is unfit to serve as prosecutor, and Mrs. Müller—”
Liza tapped the gavel. “When did Karen’s last name change?”
“When she married Mayor Müller while in hospice.”
Liza’s eyebrows lifted. “Without the community knowing?”
“She was dying. There wasn’t time to send out invitations to the wider community—”
“We received no request for a waiver of the one-year wait.”
“The council did. For the record”—Marcus approached Liza on the dais and handed her a paper—“here is a copy. The council’s clerk set the waiver hearing and gave thirty days’ notice to the community, but given Mrs. Müller’s imminent death, Mayor Müller felt a special circumstance exception applied and didn’t wait. Further, his not waiting shows his lack of knowledge—he thought she was about to die and didn’t know what Karen had planned.”
Liza frowned. “We were messing with Callistus’s trial around the same time. I don’t remember the waiver request.” She passed the application and hearing notice down the row, allowing the other council members to view the documents. “Go on, then. Continue.”
Marcus nodded and returned to stand by his seat. “As I was saying, we object to Mr. Bench serving as a prosecutor. He’s unfit to do so. And further, as a newly turned vampire, Mrs. Müller is too unstable to be subjected to a hearing such as this. The stress makes her unable to assist in her defense—she’s incompetent to stand trial.”
“The council considered both concerns in chambers and denies your objection.”
Rolf pounded his fist on the table.
Henry pressed a hand on his friend’s wrist. “Easy. Don’t give them a reason to hate us.”
Marcus straightened. “Before Mr. Bench begins, we have one matter to address. The council—tribunal, really—is missing a member. I would propose that the eldest community vampire fill the slot.”
Henry had asked Gaea to sponsor Karen. She’d readily agreed, which, in Henry’s mind, made her the perfect candidate to join the tribunal.
Xavier narrowed his eyes. “I’d prefer we filled the seat by drawing lots. The vice mayor is prepared for this contingency.”
Liza held out a small basket, rotating it, and her microphone caught a rustling sound. “All the names of the vampires present are in here.”
“Wait,” Marcus said. “No mortals?”
Liza shook her head. “I don’t think they’re gonna help your case, Marcus.”
“You still have my objection.”
“Overruled.” Liza stirred the strips of paper and pulled one out. “Nellie Wadsworth.”
Henry groaned. Nellie wasn’t a good pick. When Cerissa was accused of killing the mayor, Nellie showed a stunning lack of compassion and was one of the “mean vampires”—Cerissa’s name for the group who’d taunted her.
Liza leaned into the microphone. “Nellie, are you willin’ to serve?”
“Oh my. I hadn’t planned on participating tonight. This is all so distressing.”
“If you don’t have the moxie to say yes, then I’ll pull out another name.”
“I wouldn’t want to push that burden onto anyone else.” Nellie rose to her full height, back becoming steel straight. “I would be honored to serve.”
“Come up here and grab the seat next to me.”
Henry leaned around Karen to whisper to Marcus, “Aren’t you going to challenge her for bias? Or Vishon?”
“I need concrete evidence to do so, not a mere suspicion. Do you know something I don’t?”
“No.”
“Then let me know when you do.”
The town clerk swore Nellie in, then took a minute to make an impromptu sign and slide it over the blank light box. Earlier, Liza’s nameplate had been moved to the mayor’s spot, and Rolf’s removed. When someone on the dais switched on their microphone, the light box came on, illuminating the speaker’s name.
Once the clerk finished, Liza tapped the gavel and everyone quieted. “Mr. Bench, you may, um, present your case.”
“ Cabron, ” Henry mumbled again.
Marcus shushed him and rose to his feet. “Wait.” The command was directed at Liza. “Now that another tribunal member has been seated, I ask that the full body consider our objections.”
Liza grimaced, striking the sound block with her gavel, her gaze traveling over her fellow council members. “It won’t make a darn difference, but we’ll recess and meet in private—”
“Objection.” Marcus leaned into the microphone. “We call for a public discussion and vote. Closed session law doesn’t cover this.”
Liza looked dumbstruck. “It’s your funeral,” she grumbled, and glanced down the line at the other tribunal members on her right, and then on her left. No one objected to holding the deliberation with an audience present.
Henry studied each person on the dais, watching for any twitch, any sound, any clue revealing how much they’d prejudged the matter. Vishon and Nellie exchanged smug smirks. Carolyn had a sour look on her face, the one he’d seen before that said she didn’t like anyone in the room, was pissed at being surrounded by stupidity, and now had to deal with the fallout. Luis looked tightly angry, sort of like Carolyn, but without the years of experience that kept Carolyn from lashing out. Not to mention that Carolyn prided herself on being fair, and Luis was friends with Cerissa and Karen.
So who was the holdout? Liza, Carolyn, or Luis?
“Fine,” Liza said. “Does anyone want to start the discussion—”
“I call the question,” Vishon said before she could finish.
Liza glared at him. “Seriously? Hell no. You guys will all go on record with your reasons. We’ll begin with the newest member. Nellie?”
“I’m sorry that Mrs. Müller is so new and all, but the longer we wait, the more people will resist destroying her. And she looks competent to assist Marcus. She hasn’t stopped whispering in his ear.”
“Luis?”
“There’s nothing about the prosecutor that makes him biased. He’s promised to be fair. To remove any appearance of bias, the council agreed that if the tribunal orders anyone staked in this matter, Mr. Bench won’t be the executioner, so he doesn’t benefit. And as far as Karen being competent to stand trial, I agree with Nellie.”
Karen gasped, her jaw dropping open.
Anger rumbled through Henry. He was glad Cerissa wasn’t in the room to hear this. Luis was her friend and employee. And as one of Abigale’s mates, Luis was Henry’s friend, too. The betrayal cut deep.
But why? His position made little sense. Was it jealously alone?
“Vishon?”
“I agree with Nellie and Luis.”
Henry groaned internally. They’d just lost, no matter what the others said.
“Carolyn?”
“I’ve already voiced my concerns in closed session. The speed with which y’all are doing this taints the matter. You give thirty days’ notice for a hearing on a marriage waiver? But twenty-four hours for a capital crime? No. I reckon something is amiss. All y’all are movin’ at breakneck speed because ya got a hidden agenda. And a young ’un like Karen ain’t competent to stand trial.”
“Now it’s my turn,” Liza said. “I agree one hundred percent with Carolyn.” She cleared her throat. “And you’re all as mad as March hares for rushing things. Now for the vote.”
Henry blew out a disgusted breath. As he expected from the comments, the objection failed on a three-two vote, and a buzz ran through the audience.
Liza tapped the gavel. “Mr. Bench. Give your opening statement.”
Xavier rose to his feet. “Honorable members of the council, tonight I will prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Rolf Müller and Henry Batista Vasquez conspired to turn Mrs. Müller into the vampire you see here today. They were the last known vampires within the vicinity of the hospital on the morning she died. They returned to the Hill moments before sunrise. They did not seek this council’s permission. No. They hid it from you. Normally, it would be up to the council to determine whether the maker or the child is destroyed. But in this case, both gentlemen deny being her maker. They allege someone else made her, but they have yet to name that vampire, and her maker has failed to appear here tonight. For their denial, I will ask for the harshest possible punishment of the only party we’re certain participated—I will ask for the staking of Mrs. Müller.”
“Objection.” Marcus shot to his feet. “We have been trying to notify her maker, and have every expectation that her maker will appear tonight. Which goes to my original objection. This council is moving too quickly and denying my client an opportunity to present an adequate defense.”
Liza tapped the gavel. “I figure you’re doing that for the record. You’ve already heard the tribunal’s vote. Overruled. Sit down, Mr. Collings.” She tapped the gavel again. “Mr. Bench, call your first witness.”
Marcus remained on his feet. “Vice mayor, perhaps you are forgetting something?”
“Yeah, what?”
“My opening statement.”
Liza cringed. “Ah, jeez.” Her face flushed red, and she ran her fingers through her pixie short hair. “Go ahead.”
Henry shook his head to himself. Was Liza’s inexperience showing through, or was she overwhelmed by it all?
Marcus strode to the center aisle podium. “Honorable members of the town council, I stand here today perplexed. The special prosecutor speaks of the harshest possible punishment. But his emphasis on punishment seeks to rile up your emotions and misdirect your attention—he has no proof of his allegations because nothing illegal transpired. All he has is unfounded assertions. While Henry and Rolf were at the hospital the night Karen was turned, we’ll present testimony that these two gentlemen left before the act occurred and were unaware an attempt would be made. Furthermore, neither of them turned her, and we’ll present scientific evidence to prove that fact.
“You must remember that Karen is not a treaty vampire. As a vampire, she is not a member of our community. She did not sign the treaty before becoming a vampire, and she has not signed it since being turned. But she knew our laws. She knew if she were turned within the boundaries of the community walls, she would be breaking our Covenant. But our Covenant does not extend outside our walls to vampires who are not members of the treaty communities.”
Vishon flipped on his microphone. “What about when Gavin was found abandoned in Mordida? When Jonathan turned him vampire, it was within the jurisdiction of the Hill’s police department—”
“To investigate if a crime had been committed. Forcing someone through the turn against their will, and then abandoning that fledgling, differs from Karen’s voluntary agreement. Gavin was forcibly turned without his consent and abandoned. Then others were murdered in Mordida, slain by the same rogue vampire. The Hill investigated and prosecuted those crimes, just as we investigated and prosecuted Petar’s murder.”
“But Karen’s maker abandoned her just like Gavin’s did.”
“Not true, Vishon. Two major differences. Her turn was voluntary, and her maker gave her over to the care of her husband. And we expect her maker to arrive at any moment.”
“But the treaty—”
“Only applies to those who have signed on to it. The unaffiliated may still make new vampires, even in Mordida, so long as they pay their entry fee to a community before the treaty deadline expires. Karen’s maker has promised to pay the fee for her.”
“Stop.” Liza side-eyed Vishon and banged the gavel. “Fer goodness’ sake. Opening statement isn’t the time for your questions. And during a trial, you gotta ask permission from the chair before speaking.” She then turned to Marcus. “Are you finished with your opening statement?”
“No.”
“Please continue.”
“You will hear tonight Karen’s testimony how she came to know her maker. An unaffiliated vampire she met during her trip to Hawaii offered her this boon. Karen asks for your leniency and understanding. Not because she is guilty, but because she would like to become a member of this community in good standing. She wants to sign the Covenant and agree to be bound by the treaty. If you grant her request, she will subject her will to that of a sponsor selected to guide her until she is mature enough to join us as an equal. Rolf has offered her tenancy in his home, so there will be no question of space on the Hill.”
Vishon’s name plaque lit up. “Why didn’t Rolf turn her?”
“He’s too young, as you well know.”
“Or Henry?”
A low growl escaped Henry’s lips. Was Vishon really afraid that Karen would take away one slot reserved for mortals who entered the lottery? One less chance for him to turn Haley? Or did his animosity run deeper?
The gavel was banged louder. “Vishon,” Liza said. “What did I warn you? The next time, you’ll be fined.”
Marcus nodded at the council. “I’d like to answer the question, if you’ll indulge me.”
Liza rolled her eyes and gestured to go ahead.
“Karen didn’t want a maker-child relationship with her employer, who is also her husband’s best friend. Messy. And if the council declines her request, then she and Rolf will move to South America. A community there will gratefully accept them. But Rolf should not have to give up his home here in order to live with his wife. For those reasons, we ask the council to find that an unaffiliated vampire lawfully turned Mrs. Müller and grant her guest residency on the Hill until the town allows her permanent residency or she moves away.”
Nellie raised a finger, signaling to Liza.
“Go ahead,” Liza said, flipping the mic switch for Nellie.
“What about the strain on our, er, dark wine supply? We have only so many residency seats open. Those are being held for a lottery from among the Hill’s current mortal mates. This has allowed Karen to jump the line, so to speak.”
Marcus inclined his head in Nellie’s direction. “First, Dr. Patel-Vasquez has agreed to supply Mrs. Müller with all the sustenance she needs from her lab and by expanding the collection of expired blood from other sources. Second, an unexpected and deadly cancer diagnosis pushed Mrs. Müller’s hand. Once she had her maker’s agreement, it was too late to go through a drawn-out process to determine if she’d receive one of the open residency seats. She would have died long before the council decided the matter. As stated, she’d like to apply for residency, but if rejected, she’s willing to leave the community. Ultimately, she is respecting the process within the confines of the circumstances that were outside her control.”
Marcus swept his fingers in an arc, gesturing at the council. “If there are no further questions?”
Liza glanced from her left to her right. No tribunal member raised a hand. “You may sit down, Marcus. Mr. Prosecutor, present your evidence.”