Don't Rhine on My Parade

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Excellent!” Deerhurst rubbed his hands together. “I believe we have established a base line. I am personally convinced that the human was coerced by the power of Mrs. Cavanaugh’s Voice to do something against his will. All agreed, say ‘aye.’”

  It was unanimous. “Coerced” and “against his will” made me feel slimy. I sighed and tried to put it to the back of my mind. It was probably going to get worse before it got better, and anyway, it’s not like that man should be drinking. His liver was most likely the consistency of shriveled leather. I’d done him a favor. So why did I feel so bad about it?

  “Now,” continued Deerhurst, “shall we take volunteers from the convention or just experiment upon ourselves?”

  Volunteers won hands down. Big surprise there. After a few more minutes of waiting, in which Dhodrim and Luna skewered my head with evil glares, and Svobodova went into some vampire stillness trance where she didn’t even breathe (creepy), our new test subject was brought in.

  Everyone looked like a normal human to me. I had to take their word when I was told we were starting with a lesser Fae, a brownie. My knowledge on the subject of brownies was that they either wore cute little uniforms and went door to door selling cookies, or cleaned your house and made shoes while no one was looking. I felt pretty safe to assume that this was one of the latter kind. For one thing, while he was short, he was no child, and was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, not a uniform.

  We stood facing each other, with me feeling more and more ridiculous. I looked helplessly at Deerhurst.

  “What do you want me to tell him to do?”

  The brownie smiled at me which made me feel even more like scum.

  “Pure iron,” said Svobodova. Dhodrim and Nimlae both hissed and the smile fell off the face of the Brownie.

  “Agreed,” said Deerhurst. He waved his hand and a guard brought forward what looked like a box made of lead. A bar of metal was carefully lifted out, and I noticed that the two Fae leaned subtly away from it in their chairs.

  The bar was placed in my hand and the brownie facing me took a step back. Drops of sweat were growing on his forehead and his eyes flickered from the iron in my hand to the door. I looked down at my hands and then at the representatives. What was I supposed to do?

  “Command him to take the bar from you,” Svobodova said with a sneer.

  I looked back at the man in front of me. He had large, brown eyes that were wide with fear, but he held his ground.

  “Wait,” said Deerhurst. He turned to Nimlae. “He is one of yours. You command him first.”

  Nimlae grimaced but turned to the brownie, “Take the iron in your hand,” he said firmly.

  The brownie reached forward slowly. Hand trembling, sweat running down his face in rivulets and dampening his curly hair. He moved as if through a morass of peanut butter. Two inches away he stopped as if blocked by an invisible wall. Minutes later he was quivering with exertion but no closer to touching the iron bar.

  “Enough,” said Nimlae and the brownie sprang back with relief. “Now it’s your turn.”

  I gritted my teeth and held the bar loosely in front of me on two open hands. “Please take the bar in your hand,” I commanded with the Voice.

  The brownie reached forward quickly and grabbed up the iron bar. He cried out in pain as it scorched his hand and the smell of burnt flesh filled the room. Smoke curled off the iron as he dropped it on the floor and clutched his hand to his chest. I closed my eyes and felt sick to my stomach.

  “Excellent!” Eckhart, the werewolf, clapped his hands in appreciation. I glared at him in disgust and he had the nerve to wink playfully at me. “Well done, Mrs. Cavanaugh. Your powers appear to be formidable!”

  A woman came forward and wrapped the brownie’s hand in a cloth and led him away. As the door closed behind them I could hear a small sob of pain escape his lips. I hardened my heart and stared at the wall behind the table. Bring it on. Better to get this over with as quickly as possible.

  “We shall go next,” said Eckhart cheerfully. He was enjoying this way too much. “I have just the test! Bring in one of the weres,” he ordered the guards. “An Ailuranthrope, please.”

  A what? I wanted to ask. Before all this started I thought I had a good grasp on the English language. Now it seemed that every two minutes I heard a word that I’d never heard before. I needed a Magic to English dictionary.

  The guards brought in a young woman, which really didn’t tell me anything about what she was, other than a were. I hoped this test would not be as unpleasant as the last one. I could still smell singed flesh. The iron bar had been replaced in its box while we waited and the Fae seemed to relax when the lid closed.

  There was some weird eye thing going on between Eckhart and the newcomer. He was trying to stare her down and she was loftily looking past his left ear. It made me wonder just how much power the Synod really had over its members.

  Finally Eckhart spoke, “Change,” a long pause, then “please.”

  The woman quirked a single eyebrow at him and then pulled her shirt over her head.

  Oh crap. She was getting totally naked here in the middle of everyone! I turned my back and pretended not to be horribly uncomfortable.

  A gloopy sound, like marbles rolling around in jello, made me turn back around. I caught the tail (ha ha, no pun intended) end of the act. The young woman’s arms and legs seemed to be bending the wrong way, her middle was stretching out, her face had flattened and teeth elongated. Spotted fur rippled over her body from head to foot and sharp claws sprang out of her fingers and toes. In less time than it takes to tell, every trace of human was gone, and a large orange spotted cat sat before us calmly licking down patches of fur that were out of place.

  My jaw about hit the ground. This was no werewolf. If I wasn’t mistaken, and I like to think that my weekend jaunts to the Brevard Zoo with Megan and Cassidy were paying off, this was a jaguar. She was beautiful. Sleek, powerful, impressive, and I might also add, completely deadly, and sitting four feet away from me.

  She turned her head to me and yawned, showing rows of sharp white teeth. Then she stretched her way to her feet and paced towards me, butted my leg with her head and rubbed her whole body across me, about knocking me over.

  My brain was still trying to come to grips with what it had seen. Part of it wanted to be scared, but most of it was reminded of Otis. He liked to rub his face on me the exact same way. I had looked it up to see if it meant anything and read that it was how cats claimed something as their own.

  I reached down and gently scratched the base of the huge ears and was rewarded with a rumbling purr. She huffed once into my hand and then stalked back to sit up straight with her tail curled daintily around her feet.

  I tore my eyes away and checked back with the Synod. Deerhurst gestured to Eckhart and the ball was apparently in his court. I sincerely hoped that whatever he came up would not harm this gorgeous creature. I’ve always been a sucker for big cats.

  “Mrs. Cavanaugh,” Eckhart spoke, “May I introduce Katie Brandon. She is an Ailuranthrope, or a were-cat.”

  I was still a little in awe, “Wow.”

  He smiled. “Yes. She is indeed impressive. I would like to show you a bit more of what she can do.” He picked up a pencil off the table and threw it across the room. “Fetch, Katie!” he commanded.

  Her ears laid down flat on her skull and she spat at him in disdain. I knew that look and took a step back. When Otis made that face it meant lacerated skin for anyone who tried to get too close.

  Eckhart stood and glared down at her, “I am your representative to the Synod. You will obey my command. Fetch!” he bellowed.

  I shrank back a bit more.

  Katie’s tail lashed furiously around her feet and she hissed and spat in a manner that had me taking another step for the door. I did not want to be in the way when she sprang at Eckhart and ripped his throat out.

  He sat down an
d looked at the other representatives.

  Svobodova languidly waved her hand, “You’re made your point. Continue.”

  Eckhart turned to me. “Command her to fetch the pencil, bring it back to you, and drop it in your hand.”

  I gulped. As I’ve said before, my Voice works on Harvey, but he is slightly dumber than the smartest brick. I’d never had reason to try it on Otis and I had some serious doubts about whether it would work on this cat either. How much of her was cat and how much human?

  “Whenever you are ready,” Dhodrim said sarcastically.

  I stiffened. Evil bitch, I thought in my head at her, and then felt instantly bad. I tried to never use language that I didn’t want my children using, and “bitch” would definitely not be a word I wanted hear out of a four year-old’s mouth. I amended it to “Vicious, back-biting spider,” all in my head of course.

  Now or never, I thought, and turned to Katie the Jaguar. She was still angry, her tail twitching and her claws unsheathed. I took a deep breath and commanded her quietly with the Voice, “Katie, please go and fetch that pencil, bring it to me and place it in my hand,” I added another “please” for good measure.

  She went still, huge orange eyes staring at me unblinking. Then with fluid ease she crossed the room to the fallen pencil. She had a bit of trouble with it and had to bat it with a paw a couple of times before getting her teeth around it. She returned and dropped it daintily in my hand and then went and sat with her back to me. It was typical cat body language that said, “I’m offended with you and going to pretend like you don’t exist.”

  When everyone at the table drew a breath, I suddenly realized that they had all been holding their breath. What confidence. I stepped up to the table and dropped the slightly wet pencil in front of Eckhart. “Satisfied?” I asked.

  “Very impressive,” Deerhurst smiled. “You may change back, Miss Brandon. Thank you for your time.”

  The same sickening, slimy sound started behind me and I couldn’t resist turning around to watch. The cat to human change was even more stomach turning. It just looked wrong. My brain couldn’t quite come to grips with what my eyes were seeing. I turned politely away when the transformation was almost complete and didn’t return to my podium until I heard the rustle of clothes finish and the door open and close.

  Eckhart was watching me with an amused grin on his face. Ha. Naked people turning into animals might be all in a day’s work for him, but I was not accustomed to such goings on. Nor did I really want to be. I’ve never been what I would call a “naked person.” Meaning, I would rather have clothes on than not. I don’t wander around the house naked, or sleep naked, or anything like that. As beautiful as that were-cat had been, I wouldn’t want that kind of ability. Not unless your clothes could change with you.

  Svobodova and Deerhurst were engaged in some sort of whispered discussion. It looked like the vampire was losing. As angry and forceful as her face looked, she was still keeping a respectful distance from the Naga. I wondered again what would make a vampire nervous and did I really want to know what a Naga was?

  It appeared that they had reached some sort of compromise. Their argument finished, Svobodova made an angry gesture to the guards at the door and they retreated to collect a new victim for my test. I was right in assuming that a vampire was next on the list. Apparently we were saving the best for last.

  More whispered discussions were taking place at the head table. Eckhart and Nimlae were casting worried looks my way, while Dhodrim and Svobodova looked extremely smug. Deerhurst merely looked grim. Uh-oh. I had a feeling that I was not going to like whatever was coming next.

  The guards brought in an angry looking young man. He was tall and buff with green camo pants and a tight green t-shirt that looked like it had been painted over his muscles. My heart stopped for a second and then started pounding in my ears.

  It was the same vampire I had met in the alley all those years ago.

  His hair was shaved short and the tattoo of the spider was clearly visible on the side of his thick neck. He glared at me and flashed some fang before coming to parade rest before the head table.

  I fiddled with my hands on the podium and almost jumped out of my skin when I realized that one of the guards was still standing next to me. He was holding out a piece of wood about three feet long and two inches in diameter. It was sharply pointed on one end and the point was tipped in silver.

  “No,” I said aloud. “I won’t do it.”

  Svobodova stood at her place. “You are correct, human,” she sneered the word, “You will order Matthew to do it to himself.”

  The new vampire, Matthew, looked as startled as I did. “What?” he barked.

  Svobodova sat back slowly in her seat. “You allowed this human to humiliate you and thus all vampires. You then failed in your attempt to find her after you so foolishly let her slip through your fingers. This will be your last chance to redeem yourself. You have the blessing of this Synod and the permission of the Bast to kill this human. Now.”

  My brain was still trying to wrap itself around that last sentence when Matthew backhanded me so hard I flew through the air and tumbled roughly on the carpet.

  Had Matthew been thinking about my ability and not about his wounded pride, I would have died in that first moment. If he had directed his blow to my throat instead of my body I would have been unable to use the Voice. In hindsight I should have been grateful for that small bit of equal footing. I also should have been grateful that Matthew chose to play with me instead of finishing me off quickly. At the moment, I had no such thoughts of gratitude.

  Before I could even open my mouth, much less compose a command, he was on me again. Vampires are unbelievably fast, and freakishly strong. This time I flew through the air and smashed against the far wall. I heard and felt my collarbone snap and I was screaming before I hit the ground.

  He was there in my face before my body stopped moving. I tried to put up a hand to block him as I took a breath to use my Voice. He grasped my forearm so hard it crunched. I had an instant of pain-free shock before white hot fire ran up my arm and resonated in my collar bone. I screamed again and kept on screaming as he stood, still holding my arm, and lifted my whole body off the ground with that one grasp.

  He stared into my eyes for an eternity of a second and I recognized nothing human in his face. He was a killer, a mad dog set free of his leash, and he was enjoying this immensely. Contemptuously, he threw me back across the room to land in a sobbing heap before the head table. He took his time walking towards me, enjoying my pain and my terror.

  I glanced up at the table. The three men were poised, half risen from their seats, faces a mixture of internal struggle, anger, and empathy. The two women were also leaning forward, Svobodova’s face was stern and emotionless, Dhodrim was clearly enjoying this, almost as much as my attacker. Damn every single last one of them.

  I struggled to my knees, cradling my mangled arm against my body. I tried to gasp in air and sucked down fluid instead. I took a steadying breath and tried again. The vampire stopped, head cocked to one side, and an amused smile on his face. Two of his front teeth were hideously elongated and hunger burned in his eyes. I knew this was it. He was done playing around.

  “Stop!” I commanded with a shriek. I gasped in another wet breath and hit him again with the Voice. “Stop right now!”

  He froze in place, a puzzled look on his face.

  “Don’t move,” I commanded and struggled to my feet. Black dots danced in front of my eyes and I felt the room swirl around me. I bit my lip so hard it bled and hung on to consciousness with all the willpower I possessed. I knew my command was only good for a short period of time. If I passed out, I would be dead.

  I stood there, swaying on my feet, wanting to throw up, and hating with a passion every single person in this room. I met each of the representative’s eyes. UnSeelie, were, Naga, vampire, Seelie. I took another breath, trying to keep it shallow so as not to jar my
ribcage, which hurt.

  “I despise each and every one of you,” I said. “You’re right. You may all look human. But you are definitely not human. I am proud to be a human, and it sickens me that you have made me a little like yourselves. This is on your heads.”

  I turned to Matthew. “Pick up that stake,” I commanded. Eyes raging murderous fury, he bent stiffly and picked up the stake from the ground.

  I stared him down for a long time. Could I do this? Could I really kill someone in cold blood? It would not be self defense. We were not fighting at the moment. I could command him to stand still while I walked out of here unharmed. True, I had humiliated him, bested him. And it was rather obvious that he was not the forgiving sort. I would be able to leave here, but he would be coming for me. And now he knew where I lived.

  I thought of Mark and my girls. If this creature came for me I would be putting them in danger. In that instant my mind was made up. I have always looked down on people who espouse conditional ethics. Either you believe something and live by it or you don’t really believe it. But right now I was all about the conditions. Normally I believe that there is no excuse for murder. But today, I was going to murder someone, and truthfully, I wasn’t all that torn up about it.

  “Drive that stake into your heart,” I commanded. I saw the fear in his face as his arms lifted and positioned the silver point over his heart. He paused, fighting the command with everything he had.

  “Do it now,” I commanded again. And he did.