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Turning toward the crowd like a demented game show hostess, she holds out her hands as if imploring them to lean in and listen. “I seek permission to bring a violation of the Diviner code before our esteemed and honorable elders.”
Silence weighs heavily over the keep, pressing against my chest as though one of the evil cupids has sat on it. Where’s Huey? I could really use a friend and ally right now. I stare out at the crowd, locking my gaze on the twins. Atticus nods, a quick, short movement that reassures me.
“Speak,” the one with the scroll finally says.
The blonde lowers her hands, her white skin bright against the silver. The woman should be a model. Hell, she probably is.
“The twins have violated your most sacred rule,” she says.
My heart drops as if these were truly gallows I stand upon and I’d been snatched upward while the rest of me falls down, down, down.
She pauses, and I want to scream.
Jace braces as if ready for a fight, but Atticus…Atticus hunches as though he’s already been sucker punched in the stomach. What’s happening? I don’t understand.
“Go on,” an elder insists.
She slides a cruel smile my way, a tiny twist of her lips that would be imperceptible if I didn’t stand so close to her. “The twins consorted with a dealing demon.” A gasp goes up from the audience, and still she speaks. “In defiance of your oldest laws, they bargained with the demon prince Theodopolis to bring her here.” She points an accusing finger at me. “She’s part of a demon deal.”
Every gargoyle in the keep stares at me as if I’ve danced naked over the Bridge and knocked pieces of their hallowed icon into the churning river below.
My heart skips a few precious beats, and my lungs go on lockdown.
Violence ripples in the air. Wings unfurl. Roars go up. Claws curl, and tails whip.
Shit. My body buzzes like I’ve had a double hit of adrenaline. The thin veneer of ceremony and civility fades away.
The crowd devolves into a riot waiting to happen, and they’ll tear the twins apart.
31
ATTICUS
THREE OF SWORDS: A TRIFECTA OF PAIN, THIS ONE WILL HURT.
Igot this all wrong.
In focusing on Rosemarie’s perfection, I miscalculated terribly. Cutter didn’t go after her. No, why would he when I’m the problem? The cancer that needs to be cut out. I don’t know how he found out about my dealings with the demon, but somehow he did.
The crowd presses in on us. Some screaming for our blood; some calling for Rosemarie’s. I won’t let anyone touch her. I’ll defend her to my last breath. With a glance at my twin’s battle-ready posture, I know he feels the same. If we can push her into the portal, maybe she’ll have a chance even if it means we lose her. We’ll lose everything.
The crowd surges forward, blocking that small hope.
We’ll die. She’ll die.
Because I’ve fucked this all up.
Truman’s voice rings out calling for everyone to settle, saying there’s been a mistake, cautioning the gargoyles to be rational and fair in considering the charges, reminding the elders there’s been no proof…only an accusation.
It doesn’t matter. They yell for her removal, Cutter leading the charge.
I don’t take my gaze off her.
Hudyakis appears at Rosemarie’s side. Thank the gods. He morphs into his true form, growing even larger than the last time he manifested.
Hudyakis. Reverent voices circle around us, respect for the ancient guardian evident in their awe. Soul guardian. He protects the twins’ candidate. Divinely ordained.
The calls for our execution and damnation wither to only Cutter’s group. His candidate has gone pale on stage. In fact, all the candidates cower away from the soul guardian except Rosemarie. Surprisingly, Wilborne’s candidate recovers first, studying Hudyakis as if he’s an interesting anomaly rather than a threat. I’ll have to speak to Truman and Rona about assisting the woman’s younger sister. She must be rewarded for such bravery.
