Hunted (Pack of Dawn and Destiny, #1)(45)

“Sorry, Gigi,” I said. “I was backed into a corner.”

Gigi patted my hand and made a soothing noise. “Come on, I already scoped out the room. They have subpar coffee sludge if you need to choke something down, and some tea packets that I’m pretty sure were left behind after a few fae raided the initial beverage offerings.”

Gigi led the way, holding her leather briefcase at her side.

Greyson was watching me, so I made myself hurry after Gigi as I didn’t want to get caught with him alone. Greyson meandered after us.

When we reached the room I was supposed to report to, a uniformed guard stood with us outside while Arbiter Tanaka finished prepping.

Supernaturals solved disagreements in vastly different ways from regular humans with their judges and juries.

For the most part, judgment fell on the race of supernatural that was wronged. A vampire killer would be handed over to vampires—and most likely immediately killed. Wizard issues were taken before the local Wizard Council, fae Courts ruled over their own subjects, and so on.

For smaller races of supernaturals—like werewolf hunters, vampire slayers, oracles, and more—where there were a lot fewer members of that particular race, we typically saw arbiters for small issues. Arbiters listened to the complaints, studied the laws and rules in place, and then made a judgment.

Typically hunter complaints never went to an arbiter. We settled things between families, as I had previously experienced.

But Fletching had wanted to make a big stink of the issue, so he’d reported it to the Curia Cloisters and it had gotten handed off to an arbiter.

The door swung open and a man—a wizard, based on the coat of arms pin he sported on the lapel of his suit jacket—stuck his head out. “Phillipa Sabre?”

“That’s me.” I gave him my welcome center smile and clasped my hands in front of me.

He glanced at his tablet, nodded, then opened the door. “We’re ready for you and your representation and…” he trailed off and gulped when he saw Greyson.

Greyson turned up the corners of his lips so he only looked a little predatory when he smiled. “Alpha Greyson of the Northern Lakes Pack.”

“Yes, I’m aware, Alpha Greyson,” the man said. “May I ask what your involvement in the case is?”

Greyson’s expression turned flinty. “Interesting you ask that when the incident took place on my Pack lands.”

“Did it?” the most likely regretful wizard asked. “I’m afraid I didn’t notice the setting as it was classified as a hunter-on-hunter incident.” He fumbled with his tablet.

I glanced at Gigi—her face had gone suspiciously blank.

“Is this okay?” I whispered to her.

“It’s perfect,” she said.

Her expression didn’t say it was, but Gigi had gotten me out of trouble before, so I’d have to believe her.

“You are correct, the stage of the fight doesn’t matter much,” Greyson said. “But Phillipa is important to the Pack.” He somehow managed to lean toward me even though I was standing in the middle of the doorway and gawking. He got close enough to brush my shoulder and he slightly lowered his head toward mine before abruptly jerking it back.

He’d probably automatically started a standard werewolf sign of affection—rubbing your cheek against another—before he remembered the setting or picked up on the scent of my hairspray and disapproved.

I’d bet on the latter.

My guess was proven when he narrowed his eyes at the bun my hair was pulled into, then turned his gaze back on the regretful wizard. “Either way, the public is allowed to listen to arbiter cases. Unless the rules have changed?”

“Nope.” The wizard gulped. “Go on in, Alpha Greyson!”

The wizard flattened himself against the wall and held the door open.

I shrugged at Greyson, then hurried after Gigi, who charged up the aisle that led to the arbiter’s desk.

Arbiter Tanaka was already seated. His salt and pepper hair was tidy and smooth, and his build was slight, but as he adjusted the two computer screens set up in front of him and then adjusted his gold framed glasses, there was an innate sense of power in his movements. He must have been using a magic, because I felt it—it was a buzzing hum that prodded my senses.

Arbiter Tanaka was an alchemist—a wizard who used his elemental magic combined with years of study to produce magical items, like the artifacts fae needed in order to use their own magic.

There weren’t many alchemists around these days. Wild magic was dying out, and with it so was the potency of the supernatural races, and it took a fair amount of power for a wizard to become an alchemist—an amount of power that was rarely seen in recent generations.

Arbiter Tanaka straightened in his seat when he saw Gigi and me approach and flicked a notch on his glasses, which slightly magnified the size of his eyes.

“Hunter Phillipa Sabre,” he said. “Be seated. Hunter Amos Fletching has already arrived.” He gestured to Amos, who was sprawled in a wooden seat in the second row of the sea of chairs and was wearing a surprisingly tidy suit, though he hadn’t taken off his net covered hat.

His nose was still taped up, but the swelling and bruising had subsided considerably—he must have finally found a fae potion.

I mirrored Gigi and sat down in the front row of seats positioned in front of Arbiter Tanaka.