Chapter 32 #2
“Why would I bother bargaining?” Hugh’s bearded jaw worked. “Those oracles will head home and tell everyone who’ll listen what you’ve done. Your conspiracy is tanked, Josiah. You might as well let Gwen go and get a head start on dodging arrest.”
“Au contraire, dear boy.” A bright smile reappeared on Josiah’s handsome face. “You forget that oracles are known for their…shall we say, fragile mental health.”
Gwen had no idea where he was going with that assertion, but he wasn’t wrong. Between their isolation and all the horrors their visions forced upon them, oracles punched well above their demographic weight when it came to psychological disorders.
“If you and I claim that a malignant witch’s toxic spell drove all those poor seers into insanity and caused a sort of group hysteria to take hold, the Council will believe us.
” A pleased lilt in his voice, Josiah laid out the rest of his plan with obvious relish.
“Then we’ll put the afflicted oracles in a very secure, very comfortable facility where they can’t harm themselves or tell false, inflammatory stories about innocent officials anymore.
I’ll give that facility my personal imprimatur and visit regularly to check on the seers’ welfare until the day the last one tragically dies, far too soon for their still-tender years. ”
In a just world, no one would listen to Josiah. But…because of the same isolation that contributed to oracles’ widespread mental health issues, very few friends and family members could attest to their sanity with any real credibility.
An influential elder statesman, though? Everyone would believe his story.
Especially if Hugh, the moral stalwart of the council, seconded it.
“I imagine we can blame witches for the Containment Zone breach too.” Josiah sounded thoughtful. “Once I’ve considered that further, I’ll let you know what to say.”
Gwen’s gaze rose from the floor and locked with Hugh’s.
“No.” Even as Josiah’s hand tightened in warning around her neck, she choked out the rest of it. “No, Hugh. You can’t allow lies to precipitate a war.”
He couldn’t let his reputation for spotless integrity be used for such evil.
Not for her and her child. Not for anyone.
And frankly, she was surprised that Eloise wasn’t lodging a similar protest. Instead, head bowed in defeat, Hugh’s sister was fiddling restlessly with a loose thread hanging from the sleeve of her cropped leather jacket.
In response to Gwen’s pleading stare, Hugh gave a slight nod.
“I won’t do it.” As drifts of dark smoke continued to billow above him, he stood very, very still. “I’d rather die.”
“What about your girlfriend? Would you rather she and her unborn baby die too?” When Hugh didn’t answer, Josiah nodded in satisfaction and got down to business.
“I could use a plant on the Council. Especially one like you, who’s widely trusted.
So here’s my bargain: You do and say what I tell you, vote and argue the way I demand, lie or kill at my command, and I won’t dispose of her. ”
His pitiless arms hitched her even tighter against him, until she could only breathe in shallow pants. “She’ll be perfectly safe with her oracle friends, prophesizing for the mission, as long as you behave yourself.”
Hugh offered her a crooked smile then, full of pain and tender affection. She let its comfort soak into her bones. Let it strengthen her for what was about to come.
His voice was an agonized rasp. “You know how much I love you.”
“Yes.” Her gaze, her voice, her own smile, contained all the devotion she bore for him in return. “And you know the way I’d want you to honor that love.”
Not by sacrificing untold numbers of innocent lives for her sake, but by following his conscience one last time. Even if doing so meant her own path would soon reach a dead end.
“Very prettily stated.” Josiah’s tone was mocking. “If he doesn’t agree to my bargain, though, I’ll kill you both right here and now.”
She was doing her best to accept her inevitable death with as much grace as she could muster, but to know that Hugh would lose his life too?
It was unbearable.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to a tear-blurred Hugh. “And I love you too. So very much.”
Hugh was still smiling at her. “At least we’re already in the right place for any necessary post-life legal proceedings, so it’s all very efficient and orderly. You know how much I like that.”
She snorted, and his gaze lovingly traced her face, as if committing her to memory.
“Enough.” Josiah gave her another impatient shake before thrusting her to one side, his cruel fingers still clenched around her throat. He extended his right hand toward Hugh. “Do we have a bargain or—”
In a sudden, startlingly swift burst of motion, Eloise rushed at Josiah.
The knife in her hand glinted in the bright overhead lights, and before Josiah could dodge her attack, she aimed that knife directly at the fae’s chest, where his shrunken, malicious heart beat in hateful rhythm.
She struck with the full force of her momentum, and he staggered under her blow.
With an odd, strangled cry, she reared back and struck again. And again.
Josiah’s hand around Gwen’s throat convulsively squeezed with each jolt to his body, and she staggered and gasped and choked too.
At last, Eloise stepped back from the Blacke family’s old friend, her expression unreadable. Josiah swayed on his feet, jaw agape, astonishment rounding his glowing green eyes. And then, to Gwen’s absolute shock, he—
He recovered his balance, his grip on her neck never faltering, and started laughing.
No, not laughing. Howling.
“My dear…” He actually bent over and slapped his thigh in his merriment. “Oh, my dear Eloise, no self-respecting fae of sufficient resources would enter a possible skirmish without safeguards in place. Did you not realize that?”
His long fingers located the ragged rent her knife had made in his crisp white button-down. He spread the gap wider until everyone could study what lay underneath.
Armor.
The flexible material molded faithfully to his chest and shifted with his every breath, metallic threads sparkling under the courtroom’s lights. From what Gwen could see, it remained entirely undamaged. Without even a single dent.
Hugh jerked, his breath audibly hitching, and she didn’t blame him for his despair. The two of them had come so close to surviving this confrontation. So incredibly freaking close, but now they were back where they’d started. Back to the end of their lives.
Forgive me, he mouthed to her, his angular face stark with emotion, and she mustered a shaky smile and blew him a kiss, because there was nothing to forgive.
He’d tried his best to save them. They both had.
As she’d once vowed to herself, they’d gone down fighting—but also with love.
A love that would hopefully follow them into whatever afterlives awaited them.
In the next few moments, the sulfurous cloud surrounding him thickened into a choking, opaque mass and darkened to the same deep charcoal as Josiah’s suit. Only Hugh’s eyes remained easily visible through the billowing smoke, their fiery amber-orange glow bright enough to pierce the gloom.
His grief and fear had overwhelmed him, and no wonder.
She wished she could comfort him. Wished she could kiss him one final time. But Josiah still held her throat firmly in his grasp, and she doubted that he’d allow her a last embrace with Hugh before consuming her remaining life and tossing away her body like refuse.
“Our heart is our one vulnerability. Did you truly expect me to leave it unprotected, Eloise?” Fussily, Josiah smoothed his shirt and jacket back in place with his free hand.
“You may have inflicted a few bruises, but a healing spell will take care of those easily enough. Otherwise, you haven’t harmed me in any way. ”
“Shit. You mean I stole this from the Realm’s cafeteria kitchen for nothing?
” Eloise shook her head in disgust, glaring at the knife in her hand.
“I was so proud of myself for remembering that stainless steel was made from iron, and then I had to carry the damn thing in my sleeve for freaking hours.”
“Alas.” His indulgent chuckle made Gwen want to plug her ears. “All for naught.”
Eloise opened her mouth to respond—only to pause and turn to her brother instead. “Wait. What—”
“Be ready, El,” Hugh told her, the words utterly calm and completely incomprehensible. “I love you and Gwen so much.”
“Such drama.” Josiah sighed. “Get ahold of yourself, Blacke, so we can negotiate our bargain like civilized—”
“Hugh, no.” Eloise reached toward her brother, frantic. “We can find a different—”
But before she could finish her sentence, Councilor Hugh Blacke, Esquire—a half-demon of noted restraint and polite diplomacy—had already rounded on Josiah and raised both white-knuckled fists. He flung those fists wide, as if tearing a recalcitrant sheet of paper in half.
And with an echoing howl of utter agony, he turned his family’s oldest friend inside fucking out.