Pirate's Alley

Zrakovi continued. “It concerns an incident that occurred in November shortly before Thanksgiving, in which Mr. Warin infected Sentinel Drusilla Jaco with the loup-garou virus following an argument during which he lost control. This, of course, is a grave offense with the loup-garou, and it has been my experience that once a loup-garou shows an inability to maintain control, it will continue to happen.”

 

 

Blah blah blah. I wondered who was writing Z’s speeches now that Adrian wasn’t the Elder office toady anymore.

 

“… first like to question Sentinel Drusilla Jaco, if she would take a seat here in front, please.”

 

Sure, trot me out in front of everybody. No problem. I was getting used to it.

 

I plopped into the seat next to Zrakovi and clanked my handcuffs on the ugly mahogany veneer that so many wizards had gone into creating. I swear that Elder Sato, who had arrived late, and my uncle were both fighting laughter.

 

“Ms. Jaco, I’d like to ask a series of questions and, if you would, please keep your answers precise, succinct, and to the point.”

 

Who did he think I was, Truman Capote? Or Jean Lafitte?

 

“Are you aware of the incident referred to in this report?”

 

I’d show him succinct. “Yes.”

 

“And did Mr. Jacob Warin lose control during an argument and infect you with the loup-garou virus?”

 

“No.”

 

Silence. Zrakovi repeated his question. “Would you like to reconsider your answer? Lying to the council will only add to the repercussions.”

 

“We were not arguing. We were having a discussion.”

 

“Ms. Jaco…”

 

“You asked me to be precise.”

 

Zrakovi was getting pissed. Maybe I could push him into a stroke myself.

 

“Very well. Did Mr. Jacob Warin lose control during a discussion and infect you with the loup-garou virus?”

 

“No.”

 

Zrakovi took a deep breath. I think I heard another f-bomb.

 

“Ms. Jaco, tell us what did happen, in words of which you approve.”

 

“Sure.” Exactly what I wanted. “Jake and I were having breakfast after visiting the crime scene of one of the Axeman of New Orleans’ first crimes last month. We got in a discussion about how he was adjusting to being turned loup-garou after Katrina. I was waving my hands around as I talked”—I waved my cuffed wrists in the air and banged them on the table again—“and my arm accidentally grazed against Jake’s tooth hard enough to break skin. He was horrified.”

 

Except for the part where Jake had been snarling and holding on to my arm and trying to fight off his wolf, that account was entirely true.

 

Zrakovi tapped his pen against the folder in front of him. “So you’re telling me that Mr. Warin never lost control?”

 

“He never lost control.” Which was true. He left to keep from losing control.

 

“But you were infected with the loup-garou virus.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“How did you find out the virus was active?”

 

I paused. How much detail had Mace gone into? “I gave myself a blood test and began having symptoms.”

 

“Symptoms such as…”

 

“Healing faster than normal.” No point in mentioning the low-grade fever or the short temper.

 

“And did you, indeed, turn loup-garou?”

 

“No.” By God, I wasn’t volunteering anything. I’d make him ask me.

 

“How did you avoid it?”

 

Rand?

 

Go ahead and tell him the truth—you know, about how much we love each other.

 

Oh, brother.

 

“I was told by the man I was dating that he was immune. He offered to exchange blood to share that immunity with me.” Okay, maybe I’d volunteer a few things, just because I could sense Zrakovi getting pissed again. “I mean, Rand and I were headed toward being bonded anyway.

 

“We couldn’t stay away from each other.”

 

Because he was stalking me like a sociopath.

 

“We could finish each other’s sentences.”

 

Because he could read my mind.

 

“He’d know what I wanted for dinner without me saying so.”

 

Ditto.

 

“If I had shifted, it would have ruined the life we had planned together.”

 

Crap on a stick, but I was a good actress. Kiss me and hand me the Oscar.

 

Alex coughed, and I swore I heard him mutter “bullshit” right in the middle of it.

 

Zrakovi rubbed his eyes, and if I hadn’t been so annoyed with him I’d have felt sorry for him. It must be frustrating to try and manipulate people who wouldn’t roll over and cooperate.

 

“Ms. Jaco. DJ. When you bonded with Mr. Randolph, were you aware that he was in line to inherit a seat on the Synod?”

 

“Yes. His mother, Vervain, was on the Synod at the time.”

 

“Was the intent of Mr. Randolph in bonding with you to strengthen his position within the Synod and, by forming an alliance with a wizard, assure himself of a seat on the Interspecies Council?”

 

I pretended to consider the question. “It’s an interesting theory, sir, but I don’t believe it’s possible. I mean, at the time we were bonded, Rand’s mother was quite healthy, and either she or one of the other Synod members would be on the council. There was no way Rand could know his mother was going to pass away so suddenly.” I paused. “Bless her heart.”

 

Bravo, Dru. I hadn’t even thought of that angle.

 

Neither had Zrakovi, from the pained look on his face.

 

“That is all, Ms. Jaco. You may return to your seat.”

 

“Bench,” I said. One must be precise.

 

He ignored me.

 

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