Councilman Ishida raised his hands, silver light sparkling and moving in waves. He strode towards a small door that I hadn’t noticed on the back wall. Unlike the rest of the room, this door stood out due to its starkness—it was more of a panel than a door, as there was no handle that I could see. The light on his hands melded with the door as he got closer until the door glowed with the same silver light as his hands.
My guys had all stiffened at my sides and back, though I could tell they were trying to hide it. Killian was growling lightly under his breath, and Theo was hissing through his teeth. This was not what they had been expecting when we had been called.
Nix, I’m sorry. My father is walling me out. I don’t know what’s about to happen. They’ve put out a full call, so if they are planning a punishment here, we won’t be able to stop it. I could hear the panic in his tone, feel it wafting in waves over me from the others. My Phoenix was hissing, whirling madly in an attempt to get out. I may not know what was going on, but apparently, she was not going to approve of whatever it was. We mentioned this Nix. I wish we could have prepared you more. The Council is the punishing body as well. It could be a banishment or a beating. It could… He trailed off as if unable to continue.
It could be an execution. Theo’s mental voice was hard as steel; cold as ice. If these bastards are going to put on an execution in front of you, I’m going to find a way to punish them. I don’t care if they hear me. If these bastards think that after everything you’ve gone through, we’re going to let them get away with putting you through monitoring an execution they’re dead wrong.
Holy shit. An execution? Seriously? Yes, I had known it happened. Hell, even the human world had the death penalty. People came and watched those. I had always pictured them as solemn affairs, though. Crying, broken relatives, hard-eyed reporters, sullen guards in sterile rooms. This was a party for God’s sake! The dress may range from jeans to black tie, but there was laughter still echoing around the room, the delicate smells wafting from the banquet tables, champagne flutes full of golden liquid. How was an execution appropriate here? Murmurs had begun to ring out through the crowd as Councilman Ishida focused on whatever he was doing with the doorway.
He’s opening all of the doors behind that panel. It leads down to the jail. He’s a celestial kitsune, remember? He handles all the barriers. He’s incredibly skilled at it. He’s leading the prisoner up from the cells through the hallway. Only his powers are keyed to these doorways. It’s to prevent anyone from escaping. Damien’s mental voice was soft, even a little distracted. I wondered if he was trying to scan the room, to see if he could gain any more information about what was occurring shortly.
Hiro’s hand was ghosting lightly over the small of my back. I know he wanted to pull me into him, to help shield me and control my emotions, but we all knew that was impossible. Not only did the Council still view us as friends, but it would make me look weak in front of the mass of shifters that surrounded us. Weakness here would not be tolerated—it would be exploited.
I turned my attention back to the other Council members, trying to see if I could get any kind of read on them. Councilman Rahal and Councilman Williams were speaking quietly, their lips shielded by their hands so that even if someone in the audience could read lips, they would struggle. Councilman Khan was nearly sprawled in his seat, sipping from a glass of what I assumed was a dark liquor, his focus on the women milling close to his throne rather than the drama that was unfolding. Councilman Maldonado worried me, however. A small, dark smile twisted his lips, and he was practically vibrating with excitement. His eyes were flashing lightly, and he gripped the handles of his throne tightly as if he would lose control of himself if he couldn’t keep himself grounded.
He is excited by the potential of blood. Hiro’s voice was laced with disgust. Most of us try not to fall into the stereotypes of our supernatural half. Wolf shifters don’t usually howl at the moon; fairies don’t hold drunken parties… some of us though, either can’t or won’t break the stereotypes. Councilman Maldonado is the only Manananggal I have met—he lives for the fear that his creature inspires and for what he calls “the beauty of blood in the song of death”. He’s twisted, Nix. Stay away from him.
I shivered slightly, wanting to lean into his touch. It’s not like he needed to tell me that again. My Phoenix and I had been wary of him when we had first heard his description. When we saw him at our first meeting with the Council, we knew he was not a man to cross. There was something about him that wasn’t quite right—as if he lacked any of the natural graces of humanity. My attention was drawn back to Councilman Stepanov when he took his seat. His eyes were hard as they studied me, and I assumed he hadn’t removed them from me before this point. He had been making a study of my perusal of the room and my reaction to everything I was seeing and thinking. He crossed his legs slowly, his fingers pressed against his lips as if holding in a secret.
With a creaking moan, the panel slowly began to slide from the wall. A figure staggered into the room, cocooned in silver light as if it was creating a wall around him to separate him from the observers in the room. I gasped, nearly staggering as he took another sluggish step forward.
Michael. The word was almost a whimper in my head. My Phoenix shrieked, wings flapping in rage. I couldn’t quite tell who she mad at—Michael for existing and being so close to us and our guys, the Council for springing this on us, or the humor and scorn currently covering the face of Councilman Stepanov.
Damien took a step forward, turning his body to better shield our group. My brave warrior. I was so grateful to Theo for the lessons we had been having. While my fingers ached with the need to throw up walls of flame, I was able to maintain a choke hold on my Phoenix and keep her from overwhelming me.
Councilman Khan’s voice was surprisingly soft as he spoke, yet it echoed throughout the now silent chamber. “This part-blood,” hisses echoed through the chamber at this pronouncement, “has violated multiple laws of our society. He willfully murdered an extremely rare mythological.”
I froze, going completely numb. Even the fire inside me sputtered at the ice that was quickly filling my veins. I had known he had to have been the one who killed my mother, but to hear it announced to the public, to have her life value reduced to her shifter class, made it all feel real, and my heart nearly broke.
Chin up, Annie girl. They’re bastards. Don’t let them see they’re getting to you. Use your mask. We’ll make it better later. Killian’s rough voice filled my head, a soothing stroke helping to hold back the tidal wave inside of me.
“He then stole her daughter, the only other Phoenix shifter known to have existed in over three hundred years. Instead of bringing her to the Council and turning himself in for our justice, as was his duty, he ran with the child. He decided to raise her amongst humans as he owns no powers of his own. He planned to cultivate blood from the child once she shifted.”
The ice was slowly starting to edge from my veins at the cries of anger and disgust that filled the room behind me. He was pouring my entire past out to the public. Yes, it was in the guise of explaining Michael’s actions to allow for whatever punishment they had planned, but from the smiles gracing the faces of Councilman Stepanov, Councilman Maldonado, and Councilman Rahal, I was fairly certain that this level of explanation was unnecessary.
They could be trying to garner pity for you. Theo's voice was hard, but considering, as he answered my thoughts through our link. If the other shifters have an idea of why you don’t understand our culture, why you may make simple mistakes, or act human at times, it may buy you some safety. Their pity will give you a buffer against any offense that may be caused.
Or, they’re just being assholes and like hurting her for not falling in line with them. Killian’s voice was hot, and I could tell he was starting to struggle to hold back his Puca.