Pack of Lies (33 page)

“No, sir. We are not reading emotions themselves.” And anyway, J was of the opinion that most so-called empaths were frauds. “We collect signature, and often if the caster was strongly…motivated, we will find that within the signature itself, like…like an inclusion in a diamond. There were no such inclusions at the time.” And because I couldn't let the implied slap go by, I added, “We are trained professionals, sir. The scene is processed carefully, and our own feelings do not enter into our notes or our evaluations.”

“But you were disturbed by the scene?” he insisted.

“Sir. A woman had been assaulted, a man was dead. Another man was injured and a ki-rin had been distressed. It was our duty to determine the cause. Any personal feelings were secondary and not to be allowed to intervene.” Oh, god, I could have been one of J's hoitier toitier Council contacts, with that response. It did the job, though.

They let me sit down, and started arguing together. I settled in for a long haul, but it took them about ten minutes to come to some consensus.

“We have heard the arguments. We have heard the evidence. We are in agreement.”

My breath caught, and I swallowed hard. Mercy…what price would they impose on Mercy for her foolish greed?

“For the attack on the ki-rin's companion, no matter the reason, Aren Geb shall pay to the ki-rin a blood-price of one gold coin.”

That was the price they placed on Mercy's… I bit down my anger. Mercy had been a participant, however traumatized. A single gold coin was a traditional sum, and nothing more than saving face with the fatae, so that none could say the Council did not address the damage done.

“For the use of the solemn bond between ki-rin and companion for foul purpose, and for arranging the death of Roger Mack for another's gain, we charge Aren Geb with murder.”

There was a release of air in the room, as though a dozen invisible people had let out a sigh, all at once. It creeped me out; bad enough that Pietr could disappear—there was an entire room of them? But nobody else seemed to notice.

“For the betrayal of the solemn bond between ki-rin and companion, the girl Mercy Trin has already been punished more than any might mete out. For her part in arranging the death of Roger Mack for another's gain, we change her with murder.”

Sharon sighed, and even Ian looked saddened, although his expression never changed. Stupid, foolish, greedy girl. The Council decrees were not law, as such, but they had the force of tradition behind them, and even lonejacks and Gypsies followed a murder conviction. By the end of the week every Talent in the country would know what they had done.

The punishment was shunning. Not to speak, not to touch, not to acknowledge in any way that the shunned was Talent. They were no longer a part of the
Cosa Nostradamus.

Mercy…as damaged as she already was by this, by what she had done…

Hopefully Mash would still take care of her, despite the shunning. Alone, she wouldn't last a year, not in that state.

I didn't give a damn about Aren Geb.

“And what of the ki-rin?”

Ben. Standing up straight and angry in his expensive suit, his voice calm, but his gaze met each of the Council members in turn, and I was insanely proud of him, an emotion that surprised me.

“What of the ki-rin's involvement, Council members?”

Luce stood, matching him gaze for gaze. Her face seemed even more seamed and wrinkled than it had when I arrived, but her back was straight and her voice didn't waver or crack.

“The ki-rin is out of our concern.” The words were soft, but firm. Ben waited, then bowed his head to the truth of that, and stood down.

And then it was over, and we were leaving the Council chambers, solemn and silent. Stosser waved us on, stopping to talk to someone who had not been in the chamber.

Nobody said anything until we were in the elevator, and the doors slid shut in front of us, the sound of water rushing behind us.

“The ki-rin was just as guilty as the others,” Sharon said, stabbing at the control panel as though it were a Council member.

“I know.” Venec, standing next to me, sounded really, really tired. I didn't dare look at him, afraid it would be too much and I'd crack.

“The fatae won't punish it though, will they?” Sharon went on, as the elevator slid down thirteen floors. “They'll call it a human affair, and brush it under the rug, because the ki-rin is too precious, too rare to be involved with anything so base as murder for hire. Because it had to be the human's fault, not their precious ki-rin.”

I wanted to say something to counter her bitterness, but there was nothing to say. She was right.

“There are rules, Sharon,” Venec said, and his sorrow and anger rasped against me like a physical thing. He repeated more softly, as though to himself, about something entirely different, “There are rules. The fatae are not ours to discipline.”

Without looking down I couldn't say whose hand found
the other, his or mine, but the touch of skin to skin, brushing fingertips, calmed us both, not erasing the anger, but making it a smoother, quieter thing.

 

By the time we got back to the office, Ian having joined us en route, that calm was shattered.

The rest of the pack was gathered in the main room, but the coffee carafe was full, the newspapers untouched, and Pietr was a blurry outline of gray misery. Even Nick looked like someone had poured a bucket of soggy onto him.

“What happened?” Ian asked, even as Ben gave a quick once-around the room, looking for clues, anything that was out of place or threatening.

“The ki-rin.” Pietr answered for all of them. “Bonnie, Danny called this morning, looking for you. He thought we'd want to know. The ki-rin…”

“It killed itself, didn't it?” I said softly, and at his jerky nod a sense of dread I'd been carrying without even knowing it slipped down my spine and crashed to the floor.

There are rules.

I'd known. Mercy's misery, the ki-rin's stony silence…the refusal of the Council to say or do anything against the ki-rin… It was a noble beast that had done something terrible for love. There was no way it could go on pretending it hadn't happened…and no way it could live with the fact that it had.

“A ritual slaying,” Nick said, picking up the story, as I went to sit down next to Pietr, letting my head rest against his shoulder. I wasn't sure, but I thought that his outline solidified a little, and he came more clearly into view, when
I touched him. Venec stayed where he was, in the doorway, still as though he were carved from stone.

“It had a sword, or got a sword, and fell on it, right through the breastbone. I can't imagine too many people other than a ki-rin know exactly where their breastbone is, much less how to puncture it…so it's a suicide. Case closed. Nothing for us to investigate.”

“No,” Ian said quietly, his voice more terrible than any lamentations. “Nothing for you to investigate.” He paused, then turned and went into the inner office, closing the door behind him, leaving us there. We were finished. Case closed.

Normally after a case, we'd go drinking to celebrate. This time…nobody seemed in the mood.

“This job sucks,” Nick said, and someone let out a ragged laugh of agreement.

I looked up, and met Venec's gaze. His eyes were hooded, his skin tired-looking, but there was a stillness to him that wasn't sadness, or anger, or frustration but a sense of something else I couldn't quite grasp.

“They chose their own paths,” he said, talking to all of us, but looking right at me.
Into
me. “The job sucks, but you all did it well, with honor, and with respect.” He paused. “I'm proud of you. And so is Ian, even if he's too much of an ass to remember to say it. Now go home. Get some rest. Drink yourselves into oblivion, if that's what it takes. I don't want to see any of you here until next Monday.”

The others didn't wait for him to change his mind, and nobody seemed to notice that I stayed on the sofa, not
moving as they all grabbed their stuff and disappeared out the door.

And then it was just the two of us, staring at each other from across the room. “Bonnie…”

He sounded so tired, I didn't have the heart to say whatever it was I thought I needed to say. I just got up, and walked across the room, and put my arms up around his shoulders, bringing him forward so I could whisper in his ear. “We're proud of you, too, boss.”

And then I kissed him on the cheek, and went home.