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“Umm… well…?” Asa repeated. He paced in the center of the ruins, more animal than man, and the entire pack, sans Silvan, swayed with his movements.
“Well, she’s not coming. I’ll be reading the investigation findings and her verdict tonight.” Romy prepared for impact.
“Bullshit!” a pack member yelled.
“The high priestess doesn’t give a fuck. I told you this would happen,” said another. “It’s what we get for leavingourbusiness to witches!”
Asa raised a hand above his head. “No. No. I’m certain the high priestess has sat out the meeting because she’s caring for your little sister, right?” He didn’t give Romy a chance to answer. “Because we can understand that, can’t we, Rincewinds? A mother looking after her gravely ill child?”
“We’re leaving!” This time, the voice came from the leader of the dwarves, his arms tightly folded over his chest.
“Us too!” a faerie said.
“Friends, please…” Asa exposed his wrists and opened his arm wide as if he were a politician skilled in persuasion. From her vantage point, Romy saw Silvan sneer at the sight and wondered if the two men had as tenuous of a relationship as she did with her mother. “Let’s respect Miss Delacroix. After all, if The One and The Only allow, she will be our next high priestess.”
The group slowly settled. Asa turned his attention back to Romy. “Miss Delacroix, please tell us what evidence was found regarding my uncle’s death.”
“We have to wait on Monsignor Marchland,” Romy mumbled.
“What about the marshlands?” He tilted his head, confused.
“Marchland! She saidMarchland!” A wolf-man howled in rabid delight. “Because his dirty vamps are guilty as shit. Fucking called it!”
“Nooooo, noooo!” Romy’s head shook so fast it made her dizzy. She braced against the podium. No way would she allow anyone to believe her kindhearted Bastian had anything to do with Claude’s death. “Isaid…we have to wait forMonsignorMarchland. As is the law.”
The pack riled themselves into another fevered storm, but soon, the fires ofTuiteam feòil is fuildimmed, and the crowd was silent once again. Bastian glided through the ruins and stopped in front of Romy. A low growl rumbled throughout the circle as the Rincewind Pack gathered around Asa.
“Late again, vamp.” Silvan took a step closer, even with Bastian. Romy’s breath hitched. How could two men be so beautiful, so sexy, and so absolutely perfect? Maybe even perfect for her.
Bastian ignored Silvan’s comment and met Romy’s eyes for the first time since the last council meeting. They were crystalline, like the color of the icebergs in Sermilik Fjord off the coast of Greenland. And they pierced Romy down to her core.
“Miss Delacroix, please forgive the delay.” Today’s interpreter was a male faerie. “I’ll take my seat so we can begin.”
“Thank you, Monsignor.”
“Nice of you to make an appearance at your own trial.” Silvan’s exaggerated eye roll almost made Romy laugh, but she thought better of it when some of the other preternaturals joined in. This wasn’t a simple turf war. This was genuine hatred.
“Good for nothin’ vamps,” a female elf shouted.
A centaur beat the center of his chest and reared up on his hind legs. “They take from us all with no accountability. What does your mother have to say about that, MissDelacroix?”
“Everybody… please… hush.” Romy finally found her voice, and surprisingly, the group listened. Braver now, she turned to Asa. “I’m sorry, but the rules say three to seven members. Please send some out.”
“Your mother never enforced that rule,” Silvan huffed.
“Yes, she did,” Romy said boldly. “At the last meeting.”
Asa nodded solemnly. “As you wish, ma’am.” With a single click of his tongue, he directed the majority of the pack to leave. Silvan crossed his arms and rolled his head back, groaning. She tried not to take it personally, but she knew she’d be thinking about it all night. Abouthimall night.
When they were gone, Romy stood.
At the podium, she located the envelope with the verdict inside. Cassia had given specific instructions for her not to read it beforehand. Romy thought that was dumb. Shouldn’t she be somewhat prepared for the reactions, which were sure to piss off everyone regardless? Based on the evidence she’d heard, Bastian probably wasn’t guilty, but the murderer was likely one of his vampires. What she hoped the envelope contained was an extension to continue searching. Even the idea of declaring Bastian guilty, directly or by association, made her knees weak enough to wobble.
Romy looked over her shoulder. The entire Delacroix family—sans her mother and father—gave a collective nod, endorsing her ephemeral authority. Her grandmother. Selene. Loren. Countless cousins. Great-aunts and uncles. Each of them provided their undivided support. And for the first time in her life, she could actually see herself following in Cassia’s footsteps. Maybe she’d do better at the job than she’d thought.
After locating Dane with his lopsided grin, aptly placed in her father’s vacant seat, she signaled to her aunt.
“Thank you for coming today,” Romy began. “I’ll turn this over to Aunt Selene since she’s compiled all the evidence.”
