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There was no response for a long moment. My hand flexed and I had to almost physically restrain myself from throwing the phone at the wall. And then—
I am too old for this shit.
I stared at the little screen: [email protected]?!
Stop doing that.
>
I took a deep breath. Caleb rarely used text speak, and he hated when I did. He was also a grammar Nazi, so I tried to be careful as I translated.
Is P. okay? What happened?
H & r dis. tt C. P held. U sum.
I just stared at that bit of nonsense for a long moment, wondering if I was going crazy or if Caleb was. No wonder he hated text speak. He sucked at it.
In English?
I waited while Caleb typed. And typed. And typed. Was he trying to give me a heart attack?
He and Rosier disappeared. I talked to Casanova. He said P. is being held until the hearing. You’ll be summoned.
I stared at that, but it still didn’t make much sense.
Held where?
Where do you think?
Damn it, Caleb!
Well, what did you expect? That they were just going to leave him here?
YES! We went through all that, and they let R just TAKE him?
More interminable typing. I was beginning to think Caleb only used one finger. One that I was going to break off . . .
He doesn’t have him. He’s with the council. And before you freak out, Casanova said there are rules.
Rules? These are demons!
And he’s part of their ruling class. And they have privileges, in case you didn’t notice.
I flashed on the crazy chariot driver in the souk, and the way everyone had practically kowtowed while he ran them down. Yeah, I’d noticed. But Pritkin was half human, and his other half was incubus, and they didn’t seem to get a lot of respect. The council sure hadn’t seemed to mind the idea of losing Rosier.
Of course, that might just be good taste.
What privileges? I typed.
Like they can’t kill him w/o a trial.
Great. That made my stomach feel so much better. Wens it?
What?
WHEN IS IT?
Don’t yell at me. And I don’t know. Casanova said it could be anything from hours to days.
