He laughed. “I do like a challenge.”
I shivered again at the energy-strength of his words. He was one scary, interesting, sexy-ass mage. I’d just never imagined sleeping with a magic user. Well, for Louis, I could surely make an exception. Rounding the corner, I forced my hormones under control and focused on the task at hand. Jonathon wanted us to take note of who was present at the trial. He said the supernatural we were looking for would want to see the trial. In fact they were probably involved in the process.
“Stay close to your father,” Louis said, his hand brushing along my arm, and then he was gone.
I took a deep breath and stepped into the darker room. There were about twenty people milling around. I moved across the space to join my family, Torag, Jo and Jack in the front row. Louis had moved to the raised dais, across from Kristoff, who was presenting the evidence against the Compasses.
Supernaturals don’t get a trial by jury. The evidence is offered to our Book of Guidance, a large tome that rests in the center of the dais. This magical guide absorbs all the information and acts as an impartial judge. I’ve never trusted it myself. It’s archaic and seems rife for magical manipulation. Plus, it views all crimes as purely black and white, and we all know there is an awful lot of gray areas in the world. But what was the alternative? To have supernaturals act as a jury left the process open to mass manipulation. There seemed to be no truly fair way to judge these crimes.
I sat up straighter in my hard-back chair before scanning the room. “Where are they?”
“They’ll be here soon,” Jonathon said.
The area behind us, which seemed to be the unofficial Compass-support-zone, was starting to fill with females. Lots of teary eyed, overly primped females. I sighed.
“Is it always like this?” Mischa was warily eyeing the sobbing supernaturals.
I narrowed my eyes. “Yep, unfortunately, hanging with the boys equals dealing with their ladies, and I use that term loosely. Most of them are groupies, hoping to get noticed.”
The Compasses were pretty picky, but they were still men and there were plenty of supernatural females to go around. They were the top dogs in this meadow, so generally all they had to do was look in the direction of a female for a little longer than a heartbeat and they were surrounded. Surprisingly enough, Braxton was the most circumspect. In fact, I didn’t know of more than a handful of his hook-ups over the years.
Damn I missed the boys. My chest tightened and I gripped the bench in front of me so firmly I could see the white of my knuckles. Mischa reached out and wrenched my fingers free one by one and took my hand in hers. I was struck by a strange sensation. My heart flip-flopped a little. I had a sister, a twin. Somehow just knowing that made me feel less alone in the world.
“I’m really glad you returned,” I said. I stayed facing forward to hide my emotional leaking.
“Me too.” She squeezed my hand harder and we sat in companionable silence. I knew our parents were watching us, I could feel their stares, and … I scented the air – they were happy. Insert some sort of wolf-pack love anthology here and you get the gist.
Lots of glances were being thrown toward our group. Some covert and others very obvious. So far I wasn’t seeing many viable suspects for the murderer, too many weaker powers in here. It was someone who was smart, strong, and evil. Which at the moment still had Kristoff as my number one. It was ten minutes until the start of the trial. Once the time ticked over, the doors would shut and nobody else could enter or leave until the spell was lifted. As a shifter I chafed at the sensation of being caged, but I’d deal.
Right before the doors were about to close, a hush fell over the room and then the first of the red band wizards entered. Five led the way, and then my breath caught in my throat as I got my first glimpse of the Compasses. The boys were brought in one-by-one in a straight line, their hands again secured behind their backs with the magical cuffs. They were surrounded by magical security. I examined the four of them closely, but they looked the same. A little scruffier maybe, and a whole lot less fashionable – dressed in gray sweats – but there was no damage to them that I could see.
Mischa’s grip on my hand was the only thing that stopped me from rising and running toward them. Maximus, in the front, his face bore no expression, but there were firestorms burning in those dark eyes. Braxton wore his trademark smirk, the one he used when he was preparing to beat the living crap out of someone who’d been stupid enough to run their mouth. That look worried me. It was his dragon that gave him the strength to throw himself into risky situations. But I didn’t want them being reckless.
Not today.