Page 52 of The Twisted Mark


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Bren smashes his bound hands down on the interview room’s plastic table. “What, you’re taking that bastard’s word over mine now?”

“That bastard and his hordes of very consistent, very compelling witnesses. I wouldn’t judge you. I just need to know.”

And as well as all those random witnesses, someone who’s a loyal acolyte of Bren himself and an old friend of mine. Who’s told me in confidence and has nothing to gain by lying. But I promised Becca I wouldn’t mention her name.

“Sadie! I did not kill Niall Thornber. If I was going to be stupid enough to provoke a war between the two families, I wouldn’t have wasted time on the old man. I’d have killed Gabriel himself. Slowly.”

I stare at the table like it contains the secrets of the universe. If my brother says he didn’t do it, I should take that as gospel. But various witnesses’ testimony keeps ringing in my ears.

“Both the barmaid and Gabriel claimed you were taking revenge for me. And you did once swear to do exactly that.”

“I know I did. And honestly, I’m sorry I never made that vow come true. If I had, I wouldn’t be hiding it from you or from anyone else. I’d be bragging about it.”

“I don’t care either way. I just want to know the truth. For my own satisfaction, and so I can run the case to the best of my ability.”

Bren just shrugs. If he wasn’t my brother, I think I could hate him at times.

“If the Thornbers are trying to frame you, those words make no sense,” I continue. “Without the background about the lien, it doesn’t add up. It won’t sway the jury. If it’s all a lie, why didn’t he invent something more straightforward?”

“How slow on the uptake are you, Sadie? That little line wasn’t for the benefit of judge, jury, or anyone else. That was squarely aimed at you. Partly to make you doubt me. Partly to get under your skin. This is all a game to him. We’re just pawns. You’re the queen.”

“Bren, I… I’m going to need more than that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I take an audible breath. “I want to trust you, really I do. But there’s just so much evidence stacking up. I need to know for sure.”

In a normal case, the last thing you want is to dig too deeply. If a client confesses to you, you can’t outright lie for them. And I generally take those sorts of principles very seriously.

In this instance though, if I need to lie for Bren, I’ll do it. If he killed Niall Thorner, I’ll still do everything I can to get him out. But I need to know where I stand.

“You really do think I killed him. You think I’m lying to my own sister.”

“I want you to let me read the truth from your thoughts.”

Bren flinches like I’ve hit him. “Sadie! We don’t do that within the family. I appreciate you’ve been away for a while, but you must know that’s wrong.”

I swallow hard. It’s an effective form of magic, and it’s one I’m personally particularly good at—I suspect I sometimes do a low-level version on autopilot when I’m dealing with normal clients. I certainly have a higher-than-average ability to get the truth out of people, which is handy for a lawyer. But Bren’s absolutely right. My family are pretty gung-ho when it comes to principles around magic, but reading each other’s minds is firmly forbidden. It’s not quite as bad as using a compulsion spell or something designed to kill or maim, but everyone regards it as in the same sort of ballpark. Just asking makes me feel nauseous, never mind going through with it.

“If you want me to continue with the case, I need this.”

“Fine.” I expected Bren to shout, but he’s quiet and resigned. “If that’s what it takes to convince you. If my word isn’t good enough. If you can’t trust me. Go ahead and do it.”

“Bren, it isn’t that I don’t trust you…” The words sound hollow even to me. If I trusted him, I wouldn’t do this.

I’d assumed I’d need to put all my powers of persuasion to use and spend ages explaining my reasoning. His rapid, but grudging, agreement has left me feeling like I’m in the wrong.

“Just get it over with,” he replies.

I take a few deep breaths, then close the gap between us. “Thank you. In that case, let me ask you formally: may I look into your mind and seek the truth of whether or not you killed Niall Thornber and what you were doing the night he died?”

Rather like magic transfer, reading minds is something that can be done either forcefully or voluntarily. And both the magic required and the moral issues are very different depending on which you’re attempting. If you’re going for the consensual approach, you need to be absolutely sure you genuinely have agreement.

Bren closes his eyes and keeps his voice neutral and equally formal, though even dimmed by the force of the blocking handcuffs, his aura pulses with rage. “You may.”

My heart pounds. I don’t want to do this. Bren’s been difficult to deal with, but do this and from my family’s moral standpoint, I’m tipping the dynamic towards a scenario where I’m the one in the wrong.

Before I can change my mind, I place my right hand on his forehead and my left hand on the back of his neck. I close my eyes and let the magic flow.

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