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“Indeed, but even he will have a reckoning. Whether it be this case or a future one remains to be seen.”
“Knowing my father, it’ll be sometime far, far in the future,” I muttered. “He has too many friends in high places right now.”
“Perhaps, but the mere fact charges have been laid and the high council is hearing evidence will deter other, less-connected families from basically selling off their underage children to the highest bidder.”
“The mere fact it is illegal should be deterrent enough.”
“Again, we both know legalities matter not to royal witches when there’s money and power to be had. Besides, I personally believe your father will face a greater penalty than a metaphorical slap on the wrist. There are too many on the council who wish him taken down a peg or two, however temporary it might be.”
One of the two guards up ahead keyed open the door for us. I pulled on my coat and waited until we were well past them before saying, “I guess we’ll find out who’s right tomorrow.”
“There are as many for your father as against on the panel, and the adjudicator is neutral. We made sure of that.”
I hoped he was right, but I had no doubt my father was beavering away behind the scenes to ensure an “appropriate” outcome.
But before I could make a comment, Anthony’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and then grimaced. “Sorry, it’s the office—I need to take this.”
I nodded, well aware that he was juggling over a dozen cases at the moment. “I’ll meet you at the car.”
I kept walking. The mediation center was part of the new High Witch Council Complex, which was situated to one side of the Supreme Court, in what had once been a parking area. It overlooked both City Hill and the revamped grasslands situated within the looping off-ramp that swept from Commonwealth Avenue onto London Circuit. The fully fenced park could only be accessed from the complex itself, though I had no doubt there were locked gates at ground level, as the grass areas were pin neat. The gardens were a respite for all those who worked within the complex. Of course, that only meant witches who’d reached a certain level of authority and did not include humans or even any of the three lower-ranking witch families.
I came out of the building’s shadow, and the wind whipped around me, holding the bite of winter despite the fact we were now into spring. I drew in a deeper breath but couldn’t scent any rain, despite the foreboding darkness of the clouds.
I zipped up my jacket and shoved my hands into my pockets. But as I walked down the ramp that led down into the underground parking area, energy touched my skin, a gentle caress that was both electric and ethereal.
It wasn’t magic. It wasn’t even wild magic. It was something else.
I stopped and looked around, but there was no hint of anything untoward. No shimmer to suggest a ghostly presence, and certainly nothing to indicate some kind of supernatural creature had just slipped past. Nor was there anything tweaking my psi radar.
And yet... unease stirred.
I frowned and forced my feet on. I’d obviously become so used to battling demonic and supernatural entities over the last year that I was now sensing their presence every-damn-where.
As I stepped off the ramp and entered the parking area, it happened again. This time, it definitely felt as if something—someone—was tugging at my arm.
I shivered and reached for Belle. While telepathy wasn’t one of my psi skill sets, there was a natural mind link between a witch and their familiar, and ours had deepened drastically since my connection to the old wellspring in the Faelan Reservation had formed. Of course, our ability to mind speak wasn’t the only thing that was altering—there was a definite combining and strengthening in both of our talents.
But while I could now sense ghosts and the like, Belle was one of the strongest spirit talkers in Australia. If it was a ghost I was feeling, she’d be able to see what I currently couldn’t.
How did the session with the dinosaurs go? she immediately said.
You weren’t following along?
No. I had a feeling the process would just enrage me, and I’m mad enough at the bastards. Did they offer the expected pittance?
Yes, they did. They also pissed me off, so I demanded they pay us five million each or I’d see the bastards in court.
She laughed, the sound like a warm summer breeze flowing through my mind. Wish I could have seen their faces when you said that.
According to Anthony, they were expecting a mouse.
And when the mouse roared, it blew their tiny little minds.
Apparently. I stormed out, so missed it all.
She laughed again. Are you coming home now?
Home in this case being the residence of Henrietta—or Hattie, as she preferred to be known—Marlowe. While she was no relation to me by blood or marriage, she was the middle sister—and a high-profile judge—of Eli’s, who was Ashworth’s husband and a retired RWA witch. We were staying at her compound for the duration of the court case, mainly because—according to Ashworth—even my father wouldn’t fuck with her.
