It wasn’t Hedda or even Karlinda, as I’d been expecting, but rather Charles. And he was angry—at me, at himself, and at the entire situation.
The door slid shut behind him, and for several minutes, silence reigned. But I could feel his gaze on me. Feel his increasing anger and flare of disgust.
“I know you’re awake,” he said abruptly. “They’re monitoring your movements and life signs in the control center.”
It was only at that moment I realized I was still wearing Catherine’s shape rather than my own. Obviously, despite being knocked out and drugged, I hadn’t reached the point of exhaustion. Instinct, and perhaps even Cat and Bear’s deep connection with me, had helped me maintain form, and thereby the identity lie.
I didn’t move, didn’t look up, and didn’t bother to reply. Everything that needed to be said had been said. I wasn’t even truly mad with him, because from his point of view, with the information he’d been given, he’d done exactly what duty and any clear-thinking individual might have done. And, when it came down to it, I had been using him. In that, he’d been very correct.
But I was annoyed at him. Annoyed that he hadn’t given me the benefit of the doubt—that he hadn’t even offered me the chance to explain.
“Your trial starts at three this afternoon,” he continued. “It is the last order of business for the day.”
I couldn’t help wondering if that was Dream’s doing. Couldn’t help wondering if the lateness of the hour was part of her schemes, and part of the doom Nuri saw rising.
“I have insisted that you be given the chance to bathe before then. However great your crime, it is not right for you to be treated this way.”
I remained silent. He was the reason I was in this place, and I had no intention of making anything easy on him—especially when I suspected his reasons for being here came from a vague sense of uneasiness and guilt.
“They did a search of your apartment,” he said. “They found the guns and the old uniform.”
Again, I refused to respond.
He dragged in a ragged-sounding breath. “For Rhea’s sake, Catherine, talk to me!”
I finally opened my eyes and looked at him “Why? What difference does it make? You’ve already made up your mind about me, so what else needs to be said?”
He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I just—” He stopped and shrugged. “I’d hoped there was a good reason for your actions, but I guess in the end it doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“It matters, Charles, more than you can ever imagine,” I replied, battling to keep my voice even. “Just not for the reasons you think. And when this is all over, kindly remember that never once did you give me the benefit of the doubt. You believed everything they said about me, even if it contradicted everything you knew about me.”
He frowned. “I’m not sure I—”
“No, you wouldn’t,” I cut in. “But you will, and soon. Are you going to be at the trial?”
He hesitated, confusion flickering briefly through his expression. “Yes, because I’m a witness.”
Of course he was. Aside from that video, the clothes and the guns they’d found in my apartment, they had little other real evidence against me. It was the fake evidence and the trumped-up charges that were worrying me, though. Dream—in whatever incarnation she might be wearing—would ask for the death penalty, and if current laws followed laws of old, then evidence against me had to be pretty serious for that to even be considered.
“Thank you for coming to see me, and I would indeed appreciate the chance to freshen up should it happen. But do not expect anything more than that out of me. Ever.” I paused, and grabbed hold of the anger that had come pouring out at that last word. “I hope you have a long and fruitful life, Charles, without too many regrets.”
He frowned, but obviously recognized a dismissal when he heard one. With a sharp nod, he spun around and walked out. The hallway beyond, I noted, was as fiercely bright as this cell. There were also two guards standing opposite my door—both heavily armed—but the bigger threat was the cameras themselves. I dare not wrap a light shield around me and become shadow to escape—not in this cell and certainly not when I was taken upstairs for the trial. To do either would be to reveal myself as déchet, and that was something I refused to do. If death was declared my fate, then I’d go down fighting, but I would die in human form and without the tag of monster to follow me into the afterlife.
No matter what does happen, Bear said, we will fight by your side.
I know. And I love you both for it, but I don’t want either of you to save my life at the cost of your own. I paused, and then added, If this is to be my end, then I need you both to guide my soul back to the little ones. We cannot leave them alone.
No, they agreed. Already they are scared, even though we have told them all is well and that you will be back soon.
I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the ache that ran through my soul. But one way or another, I would soon be back to them, especially if I believed Nuri’s proclamation
And I did.
More time passed. Eventually, the door opened again and three men stepped into the room. None of them said a word, and only one of them was armed. One of the unarmed men stepped forward, placed a metal collar around my neck, and then handed the long chain to the other unarmed man. The cuffs on my wrists and ankles were then unlocked and I was gruffly told to rise.
I did so. Pain slithered down my legs, but it came more from them being locked in one position for so long rather than any lingering damage from the various wounds I’d received recently.
The man holding the end of my chain turned and walked out, forcing me to follow. One of the armed guards in the overly bright corridor preceded us; the rest followed.
We reached the end of the long, somewhat soulless corridor and went through another door that bristled with all sorts of scanning equipment. No alarms sounded, so obviously both the guns and my DNA had already been taken into account.
It was a thought that had fear stirring anew. Did they take blood samples when I was under?
Yes, Bear said. Several vials of it. They also took saliva samples.
Meaning pretending to be anything other than what I really was might now be useless. When the results of the two were combined, the presence of several déchet markers in my DNA would be revealed. With that sort of information, Dream could make a viable case for my immediate destruction.
We marched down another long corridor—this one lined with doors on either side—and then reached a sort of antechamber. It was again solid concrete and circular in shape, with a seating area on the left side and six showerheads on the right. As bathing facilities went, it was as basic as you could get, but I wasn’t about to complain. Not when I smelled so bad it was turning even my stomach.
The guard motioned me toward the nearest shower. I stepped underneath it, and a mix of heated water and air instantly began to blast me. I raised my arms, turning one way and then the other—or as much as the leash would allow—to wash the grime away. After no more than a couple of minutes, the water stopped and, once the air jets had dried the remaining droplets from my skin, I was handed some clothes—a loose pair of pants that tied at the waist, a shirt, and a pair of boots.
Once I’d dressed, I was led out into another corridor—this one shorter—and then into a waiting elevator. One of the guards scanned his RFID chip, the elevator doors closed, and we were quickly whisked upward.
We entered another antechamber, but this one bristled with light panels, cameras, mobile autosentry guns, and armed guards. Dream wasn’t taking any chances on my escaping this time.
A set of heavy, intricately carved metal doors dominated the wall directly opposite the elevator; from beyond it came a single voice, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying.
Do you want me to scout the situation in the next room? Bear said.
I hesitated. It might be better not to. If Dream senses your presence, sh
e might just raise a spell to either displace you or to stop you from interfering.
Or worse.
She’ll sense our presence anyway, Cat said. Because you’re not going in there alone.
A smile tugged at my lips before I could control it. I know, and I wasn’t about to suggest that anyway. I’m hoping all her attention will be on me, so if you keep close to the roof, it’s possible she won’t sense you.
I was escorted to the doors and then told to stop. I flexed my fingers, trying to ease some of the tension flowing through me, but that slight movement had the sentry guns on either side of the door coming to life and their barrels swinging around to face me.
I froze and, after another minute, they went dark again. Even so, it was a timely reminder not to make any untoward movement once I was in the chamber beyond.
I reached instead for the light. While I had no intention of creating a shield, I needed to know if my ability to do so remained hampered. Once again my efforts were met by the gelatinous soup. I swore internally and pushed down into it. After a few moments, I felt the caresses of energy across my skin and the air briefly sparkled. I immediately released it and reached instead for the vampire part of my soul. Shadows stirred in response, but the brightness of the surrounding lights prevented it from doing any more than that.
I nevertheless felt like rejoicing. I might not want to use either ability unless it was an absolute last resort, but at least I could if it became necessary.
The voice coming from the other room stopped and locks tumbled as the huge doors in front of me began to open. Once there was a four-foot gap—the width required for the two sentry guns to get through, I suspected—they stopped. The guard holding my chain walked forward. I had no choice but to follow.
The vast hall beyond was a mix of white stone, gold, and rich woods. Huge arched windows lined either side, and long flags bearing the various coats of arms of the House’s lords hung from the ceiling, providing a rich spectrum of color to the otherwise cold space. At the far end of the room stood a raised platform, and in center of this was an ornate gold speaker’s dais. To the right there was a large, plush-looking chair, and on the left six plainer ones. Below and to the right of the platform was what looked like a silver birdcage. On the other side was a doorway that appeared every bit as solid and as intricately carved as the one I’d just passed through.
Three stepped rows of padded seating lined either side of the room, but only three-quarters of the seats were taken. I scanned the many faces but I couldn’t see Karlinda, Hedda, or even Julius. I did spot Charles. He had a front seat view near the dais.
The soft murmur of conversation disappeared as we entered, and in the heavy silence I was led down the center of the room. The three-foot-wide matting under our feet deadened the sound of our footsteps, and the accompanying sentry guns were as silent as my ghosts as they rolled along either side of us.
The guard holding my chain walked across to the cage and directed me to step inside. Once I had, he wound up the chain, locked it onto the frame of the cage with a U-bolt, and then closed the door. The auto-sentry guns positioned themselves on either side of the cage.
I really hoped Nuri and Jonas did have a plan, because I wasn’t getting out of this with any sort of ease.
A woman stepped up to the dais and proceeded to read out a long list of crimes—real and imagined. I paid them no heed and scanned the area instead, wondering where Dream was.
Karlinda watches proceedings in a small room behind the dais, Bear said. But she does not feel like Dream feels.
Meaning it was more than likely the real chancellor. And Hedda Lang?
She waits outside the main doors with five other people, Cat said. And she does feel like Dream.
Is she armed?
No.
Which at least meant that if Jonas and Nuri’s rescue plan went wrong, Dream couldn’t simply turn around and shoot me. Of course, she didn’t actually have to. As Hedda Lang, she could order either the autosentries or the many guards around the room to do it. And it wasn’t like I could escape the gunfire. I might be able to reach my psychic talents, but it would take far too much time to break through the soup. Bullets would rip me to shreds long before I could draw a strong enough shield around my body to cut the light and become shadow.
Who are the other five people with her?
I don’t know, Cat said. There are three men and two women.
Two of their number would undoubtedly be the couple I’d threatened to get onto the rooftop. Charles had said he’d seen the videos, but maybe this court also required direct evidence. I had no idea who the other three were—but, given the continuing assortment of trumped-up charges, they were obviously meant to be additional witnesses.
When the reading of my crimes had finally come to an end, Karlinda appeared on the platform and moved to the solitary chair. Once she was seated, she said, in a voice that was surprisingly strong given her frail appearance, “Let the proceedings begin.”
“Who gives evidence to prove these crimes?” the speaker immediately asked.
The doors opened and six people stepped into the room. One was indeed Dream in her Hedda guise, although the foul feel of her energy was severely muted by whatever spells or charms were being used to protect this room and the people within it. The fact I could feel that much gave me greater hope that those same restrictions were increasingly unable—for whatever reason—to curtail my abilities. The two people I’d threatened were indeed in the group, but the remaining three were strangers. All six stepped onto the platform and said, “We do.”
There was a scuff of noise to my left as Charles stood up. “As do I.”
He made his way from the seating area to the platform, his gaze studiously on the platform and the speaker rather than me. But he was well aware that I watched him, if the increasing stain of red on his neck and cheeks were anything to go by.
“Prosecutor, please present your case and question your witnesses,” the speaker said, and then stepped away from the dais.
What followed was a long and rather tedious session designed purely to add weight to my supposed guilt. I had no idea how much time actually passed; the light coming in through the windows was as intense as ever, but the vampire part of my soul whispered dusk was close.
As was whatever doom Nuri had foreseen.
Once the five people and Charles had been questioned, the speaker said, “Is there anyone here who wishes to act on behalf of the accused, and cross-examine the witnesses?”
I half hoped Jonas or Nuri would appear to do just that, but it didn’t happen. I curbed my frustration, tried to ignore the ever-increasing feeling that time was running out, and said, “I would like to act on my own behalf.”
A murmur ran through the room; the speaker waited for it to die down and then said, “That is not allowed. You must find a champion or remain silent.”
“Then this court makes a mockery of justice.”
Another murmur ran across the room, but this time it was edged with surprise and perhaps a hint of anger—both undoubtedly due to the mere thought of anyone daring question the integrity of the process.
“Guards,” the speaker said. “If she speaks again out of turn, gag her.”
So much for the integrity of the process, but I guess with Dream basically in charge of the Department of Home Defense, the likelihood of true justice happening had always been minute.
The speaker dismissed the witnesses, and once Charles had resumed his position, finally called Hedda Lang onto the witness stand. Metal glittered on her wrist as she stepped forward, and it took me a moment to realize what it was. She was wearing one of Nuri’s charms—the one that protected her from the attacks of both a magical and psi nature. It obviously didn’t curtail the nature of the spells that protected this room, but it would make it damnably difficult for Nuri to attack her magically if and when both she and Jonas got here. Of course, Nuri might also be curtailed by the room’s spell work.
H
edda presented all her so-called evidence of my crimes, including the video Charles had mentioned, and another of the search of my apartment that had resulted in finding the guns and my old uniform.
When she’d finished, the prosecutor said, “And what sentence are you asking this court to approve for these crimes?”
Dream looked directly at me, and said, with more venom than even Branna had flung my way, “Death.”
Another murmur ran around the room. Karlinda raised a hand before the speaker could intervene, and silence instantly fell.
“The crimes, as grievous as they are, do not warrant such a sentence, Director Lang. Unless you can provide this court with more evidence, the penalty of death cannot be requested or applied.”
Hedda’s answering smile was a cold and evil thing that chilled the very core of my being.
“If the court so wishes, I ask that Doctor Jason Harding be called onto the witness stand.”
My heart began beating a whole lot faster. I very much suspected what was now coming, and I feared it. Feared the response of both the people and the machines around me.
A call immediately went out and, after a few minutes, a small, bald man appeared. He looked ill at ease with all the attention suddenly on him, but nevertheless strode to the platform without faltering. Once there, he took Hedda’s position on the witness stand and, when the prosecutor asked for his professional qualifications, said, “I’m the director of the Bernstein Laboratories.”
“And your connection to this case?”
He glanced at me and my heart sunk. I’d seen that look before—it was the same sort of expression the scientists in the HDP creations labs got when the latest bonding experiment proved successful. In the professor’s eyes, I wasn’t a flesh and blood being, but rather a sum of DNA that needed to be taken apart and very carefully examined.
“Doctor?” the prosecutor prompted.
“Ah, yes, sorry,” he said. “We were asked to process and report back on some DNA samples by Director Lang.”