Serpent's Kiss (Elder Races #3)(109)



The other three arrivals were Vampyres. They wore protective cloaks in preparation for the sunrise within the next half hour, but for the moment they wore their hoods back. Julian Regillus stood flanked by his second-in-command, Xavier del Torro, and Rhoswen.

Carling looked at Julian thoughtfully. His dark hair was kept customarily short, with sprinkles of white at the temples, and he returned her regard, his strong aquiline features inscrutable. Both his Power and his anger were palpable things. Xavier was much less easy to read. He had shoulder-length nutbrown hair pulled back from pleasant nondescript features. His pleasant demeanor was a deadly camouflage. Xavier del Torro was one of the keenest hunters in any of the Elder Races.

Carling was not surprised at the appearance of either male. Rhoswen, though. Rhoswen was a bit of a surprise. Carling looked at her last. The blonde Vampyre did not meet her gaze but instead stared directly ahead, her youthful face a perfect composed mask.

Wyr Councillor Jaggar said to Dragos, “You should not be here.”

“My First is involved,” Dragos said. “Of course I should be here.”

Light Fae Councillor Dearling said coldly, “The Wyr have been cropping up in conversation far too much of late.”

“Forget that I am Wyr,” Rune said. “That holds no place here. I am not here in any official kind of capacity. For this discussion, I am merely a man.”

“We agree on one thing,” Soren said. “Who and what you are is irrelevant.” The Djinn’s white starred eyes turned to Carling. “The tribunal has come to take you into custody.”

“Under what charges?” Carling said.

“Since the Wyr Lord managed to arrive before we did,” Soren replied, “I’m sure you know very well why we’re here and what we have come to put an end to.”

“Actually, I don’t,” said Carling. She forced herself to remain sounding calm and logical. Rune felt like a powder keg of violence beside her, needing only a random spark to make him blow. He stared at Rhoswen with a cold expression that promised violence. He needed her calm, and she knew from experience that logic would be the only thing that could persuade such a diverse group. “I’ve only heard supposition about why you might be coming, and gossip about decisions that might or might not have been made in my absence. I have not received any official declaration from the Elder tribunal itself.”

Restlessness stirred in the group, and both Sidhiel and Archer looked uncomfortable. Good, Carling thought. This should be difficult for you to do.

It was Julian who spoke next. “Carling, I’ve petitioned to have you removed as Nightkind Councillor, and my petition has been granted.”

When Julian spoke, Rune’s rage spiked. He bared his teeth as he stared with naked hate at the Nightkind King. As Carling nodded, she pressed hard on Rune’s shoulder. Hold on, she whispered gently in his head. We must make them justify what they’ve decided, and put them on the defensive. She said aloud, “That’s all very well and good, Julian. That certainly is the Nightkind King’s prerogative”—although it wouldn’t have been if she’d had five minutes alone with him—“but what does that have to do with the tribunal wanting to take me into custody?”

She sounded reasonable, intelligent, even tolerant. Julian watched her closely. Was that a flicker of confusion in his hard face?

“We have heard a detailed testimony of your condition,” the human witch Archer said, not unkindly.

Don’t I know who that was, Carling thought, as she stared at Rhoswen.

Archer was continuing. “We know that it is due to your advanced age. You are suffering from periodic episodes of increasing severity that are causing your Power to fluctuate and affect the world around you, yet you refuse to remain isolated to protect others. You are too Powerful and the results of that are too dangerous and not well understood. This can’t be allowed to continue, Carling.”

“I agree,” Carling said.

“And so do I,” said Rune. He projected all of his faith, all his passionate hope into his next words. “Which is why it is a very good thing we have discovered how to make it stop.”

The stirring that passed through the group was even greater, as the tribunal members looked at each other. All of them were looking increasingly uncomfortable.

Rhoswen’s perfect, composed facade cracked. Her eyes flashed up to meet Carling’s. Carling met her gaze coldly. Julian moved, a sudden betrayal of astonishment, his expression arrested.

Off to one side, Dragos and his mate stood side by side, watching the proceedings intently, Dragos with his arms crossed.

Soren asked, “You are sure you have stopped them?”

Rune shrugged. He appeared far more casual than he was. “She hasn’t had an episode since California, and we don’t expect her to have any more.”

That was stretching the truth all out of proportion, but he still made it sound completely sincere. Carling pushed the advantage and turned her next words into a delicate whip. “But this issue is far too serious to take any one person’s word for it.” She paused to let that sink in. Julian’s gaze flickered to his left, toward Rhoswen. Ah, that was all the confirmation she needed. She said, “Time will tell this tale. It would be an easy enough matter to set up a household where we can watch and wait.”

“You are willing to stay quarantined for an undetermined amount of time?” Soren said.

Thea Harrison's Books