Chapter 43 The Blade Tries Not Kill Everyone
The Blade Tries Not Kill Everyone
TALIA
Ilet Lily keep control after she asks the big question.
If there were a dais and a gavel, if there were a stage with footlights, I imagine I would stride up to the edge and let my authority fall across these assholes like a shadow of doom.
Instead, I’m relegated to the background so no one can accuse me of ‘bullying them’ by disagreeing with their shit take.
Lily sits upright, her voice slicing the sudden hush cleanly as she taps her fingers on the arm of her chair. “Well? Anyone? You’re the people who wanted this meeting, yes?”
Her tone is more aggressive than she normally is, and I don’t know how long that will last, but it makes me hopeful.
The silence in the circle is thrumming, almost electric; it’s one of those silences where everyone’s breaths synchronize, and the stillness is so dense it has gravitational pull.
The crickets out here singing are like a bad cliché, but they’re also comforting to me.
Nature will always be on my mate’s side if she needs it, and that helps me calm down a bit.
These people want her to shrink, compressing into a smaller and smaller version of herself until she fits into their boxes again.
I won’t let her do it, no matter how many of these fucking meetings we have.
Lily lets the silence ride after her demand for what feels like at least five minutes.
She wants them squirming so she can wring the admissions out of them like water from a dirty rag.
I can tell by the way she’s staring intently but not giving the crowd even a crumb to snack on.
It’s a good plan; if they felt this was so damn necessary, then they need to open their mouths and voice their shit.
Everyone’s eyes darting up to the sky or sideways to a plant or the pool—anywhere but at each other.
They’re too scared to say the shit they’ve been whispering or emailing or DM’ing to Deli’s face, especially with me looking back at them.
I like that, but it’s also going to make this shit drag on forever.
Finally, Lily leans forward and holds out the physical object she and the cat call the ‘stupid stick.’ It’s a plastic, sparkly baton they intend to use to control the crowd; holding it gives you the floor, and you can speak until you give it up.
I think that’s immature as shit and adults should be able to do this without it, but I yielded to their expertise on the dumbasses who live here.
“Okay, let’s go alphabetically. Deli, we’ll start with you,” Lily swings the thing towards my surprised woman as if tossing a grenade.
What a coward; she knows the cat didn’t ask for this damn intervention.
My new mate recoils; she wasn’t prepared to be asked to speak first. Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
She looks from Lily to the stick, and then to me, as if I might leap across the coffee table and save her.
If she could get away with disapperating out of this situation, she definitely would.
But she can’t, and Lily knows it.
I try to project calm vibes to her, but the bond between us only allows so much without being obvious.
Deli’s hands knot in her lap and one finger tugs on a cuticle until it bleeds.
She looks to the sky as if pleading, which isn’t normal for her.
I know the feeling of terror when asked to say something that no one wants to hear.
There’s creeping knowledge that if you say it wrong, it’ll be your head on the block, and you won’t be able to stop it, but you have to do it anyway.
Lily’s still holding the stick, her expression vexed. “Deli?”
The cat makes a sound between a squeak and a gasp before she says, “I don’t want to start. I’m not one of the people who asked for this meeting.”
I see Lily’s jaw set, just for a second, before she snaps back into her performance of patience. “We’re going alphabetically,” Lily says. “That’s you. We all have issues, and we all have to start somewhere.”
A shudder runs through Deli’s shoulders, and her lips flatten into a frown.
I know she’s working out that Lily might not be entirely on her side, but instead of letting on, she clamps it down hard.
She’s afraid of being the one to say what everyone will hate, but she’s trapped by her own position here.
I feel trapped, too, and I give her an encouraging stroke over the bond to help.
We knew the point of these meetings was to leave us exposed and raw.
This is just another part of that desire among the people she cut off when she got pregnant.
I want to slice them into ribbons, but I promised not to.
Minutes go by as Lily stares at Deli, and Deli stares at the floor while the rest of us stare at them both. I feel the impulse gathering in the room, the collective urge to scream or bolt or tear the whole situation apart just to relieve the pressure. Before anyone else can step in, I do it.
I clear my throat and say, “I think we start with people not on the Council, Lily. That includes me, but I don’t want to go first, since I’m not the one who called this meeting.
You should make the people with a stake in this begin.
” My voice is measured, as if I’ve practiced this script a thousand times.
I try to pitch it so Deli realizes that I’m running interference for her.
Lily’s gaze lands on me. She’s annoyed, but she’s also relieved that she has someone to argue with. “The Council is precisely why we’re here,” she replies, stick still in hand. “We need to hear from everybody in order, including us; it’s only fair.”
I nod. “True. However, I think we can let the people who have something urgent to get off their chest lead. Otherwise, everyone will wait until the last possible minute to say anything real.” I look around to see if anyone’s picking up what I’m laying down.
“And you two Councilwomen won’t be able to answer any of their questions or charges. ”
The cat looks at me as if I’ve just thrown her a lifeline. Her knuckles are white as Lily’s mouth purses. The introvert doesn’t enjoy being redirected when she’s finally speaking, but she also doesn’t want to look unreasonable in front of the others.
There’s a power play going on, always, and she’s calculating her next move, but I don’t know why.
Rafe gives me a thankful emotion through our mating bond, and I sigh.
He’s not in the hot seat tonight, but he’s with Taurus inside observing.
I catch the flicker of him trying to control my pissed-off primary and have to suppress a smile.
It’s comforting, but not enough to dissolve the tension in this space.
Why the fuck did they ask for this damn thing if they weren’t ready to spill their whiny-ass complaints?
I sense the others with Taurus and Rafe are tuning in to this drama as well.
They’re all watching the surveillance feed just to make sure that if someone flips a table, they’ll know before the shards hit the ground.
Everyone is present, waiting for a page in case tempers boil over and someone needs to be physically restrained.
That will violate the rules, but I don’t give a fuck.
I asked them to do it when Deli wasn’t around so we had backup that wouldn’t destroy the entire neighborhood like she could if she loses her mind.
Lily shifts tactics. “If you want to go, you can go. But Deli, you’re on deck. We’re all here to speak honestly.” She sets the stick down on the table between us, a dare.
What is going on with this bitch tonight? I’m about to punch her.
I look at Deli, and she gives me a tiny, grateful nod. Her relief is palpable, even as the tension stays. I take the stick, roll it between my fingers, and start talking because someone has to.
“I think what’s happening here is we’re all dancing around the same problem.
We’re afraid that if we tell the truth, someone will make us pay for it.
But we can’t keep pretending that everything is fine, because it’s not.
” I glance at Lily, and then at Deli. “If we’re going to survive as a community, we have to discuss our issues like adults and resolve them without a bunch of backstabbing bullshit.
Otherwise, we’ll just tear each other apart. ”
My words hang there, and for a split second I think maybe something will move forward, but Lily is already on the rebound.
“Thank you for starting the discussion,” she says, her voice full of frost. “Now, Deli.”
Deli’s face is flushed with irritation and upset, but she doesn’t let her governmental partner continue to fuck with her.
Her voice is firmer now that she’s emboldened by my intervention.
“I want everyone to stop treating me like I caused these problems. I make mistakes, as we all do, but that’s not why we’re having this meeting.
Can we just say what we really mean, instead of playing these games? ”
Lily’s lips twitch, and I note the satisfaction there. She wanted an emotional confession, and now she’s gotten one. “That feels like it’s re-directing blame, but it’s a start,” she says. “Anyone else?”
After this meeting, I’m going to kick her hippie-looking ass.
The current in the room shifts at Lily’s statement.
I can see already that the meeting will not end well—that the first crack in the dam was just the start.
It seems civil now; however, there’s zero chance that it won’t get ugly.
Wondering how long it will take to devolve is the unbearable part, and I’m going to go insane as these dipshits sit here like mannequins until it does.
“I’m not even sure what the issues people have are,” Marina says, giving us a sheepish look. “I came because I care about our home.”
I look over at the woman I’d never even heard of before tonight, much less met. “I think everyone appreciates you saying that. Nice to meet you, by the way.”
Marina looks overjoyed, and I grin to myself. The bird isn’t the only one who can charm these idiots to help our mate.
Shaking her head, Tamara finally frowns and says, “I don’t want to tell you what I think the issues are. That’s the problem; I want the Council to tell us what they think is wrong. Then we’ll know if they even see the bad things or if they are too insulated from us.”
“As far as I know, the Council has received at least two complaint letters,” Sari pipes up. “No response has been issued, but that means they cannot claim to be unaware.”
I’m going to kill that stubbly little bitch before this night is out—I can feel it in my bones.
“I can’t start by pitching problems,” Lily answers. “I’m more interested in creating a better future than re-hashing the past.”
Michaela and Tamara both nod, murmuring about fixing the future and examining the past for clues.
Good try, Lily, but that will not stop this train.
I sigh and look out at the women relaxing comfortably due to the hospitality of my mate while making her so upset that she almost fried our family into oblivion. Someone has to kick them in the ass and it’s going to be me because I’m tired of this horseshit.
“I thought the reason we came here was to air our issues and work on fixing them. How do we do that if you refuse to state what they are?”
The crowd murmurs under its breath, looking around at one another again. Not surprising—Sari’s coached them to push to get the past on the discussion table. She wants to drag everyone down into the mud with her, and this is how she’s going to do it.
This is going to fucking suck so goddamned badly.
I reach over and steal my mate’s drink, and she raises a brow. Without a word, she floats another scotch for herself. Once I’ve taken a hefty drink, I look them all in the eye as I prepare to continue speaking.
“I want this to be a safe place to live, work, and play. I don’t see how re-hashing the past will aid in that, but I will do so if it helps,” my mate cuts in before I get words out.
“Many times when people come to Lily and me privately, they express emotions but refuse to name names. We hear rumors; we get bits and pieces. We don’t always know the complete story, and it prevents us from acting on the information.
Also, we can’t act on behalf of a third party.
The person with an issue has to come to us in person, through email, or by phone.
We can’t go around accusing people of misdeeds based on hearsay. ”
Lily adds, “I don’t know what happened that sparked the need for a meeting. I don’t know about any problems that I’ve not been spoken to about. I hear whispers after things happen—like this morning I heard a troubling rumor that is full of inaccurate information about a council decision.”
Jesus. I don’t even have a past with these people, and I’m already angry.