Pale Demon (36 page)

I could see the rest of the night with crystal clarity. Vivian would be on my side, but Oliver would pick holes in everything until there would be nothing left of my defense. I found Trent in the haze, and he shrugged, having known it already. Frightened, I took a breath to refute the statement, though I didn’t know how.

Pierce stood, surprising the crowd into soft whispering. “I was there when Rachel twisted the curse to burn the fairies,” he said. “I was part of it as much as she was. More so. There was no way to survive but for burning them. Rachel took part, but she drew the curse back into herself at great cost before it was fully invoked, turning a deadly curse into a nonlethal one, saving most of the fairies at great hurt to herself.”

“She drew a curse into herself and survived?” someone shouted. “She’s a demon, that’s what she is!”

My eyes widened, and I swear, my heart stopped. I looked to Trent, panicked. I hadn’t told.
I hadn’t told anyone!

Everyone in the audience started talking, and Oliver just sat back and enjoyed it, arms crossed in confidence. I was going to be branded a black witch and sentenced to Alcatraz. There was no way around it. Damn it, Al was going to win.

“The issue at hand is not whether killing fairies is lawful!” Trent shouted as he stood, and those around him quieted. “Who here hasn’t accidentally killed one of the winged folk? It’s a tragedy, but should we all be considered murderers for it?”

I exhaled and let go of Pierce’s hand, then winced when he shook it, trying to get the circulation back. I hadn’t even known I’d taken it. Jeez, I probably looked like a scared little girl.
And Trent had spoken for me?

Vivian walked to the podium and pulled another amulet from under it. “The coven recognizes Trenton Kalamack.”

I’ll give Trent one thing. He knew how to make an entrance. He was already halfway to the stairs, and Lucy babbled as he took them. The crowd’s noise rose and fell, and I detected a softening. It was hard to think ugly thoughts when you were watching a highly successful businessman with a happy baby in his arms.

Trent and Vivian murmured a few words, their heads almost touching, and then he took the amulet. Lucy’s cooing rang out, and then Trent disentangled her little fingers from the amulet, whispering to her in what sounded like another language. The crowd liked that, and I wondered if he’d done it intentionally. Trent gathered himself, and when he looked pointedly at me, I sat down, my chair scraping. That same guy brought a third chair out, placing it between me and the podium.

“If I may continue,” Trent said, not sitting, and Pierce touched my knee, stilling my bobbing foot. “Should Rachel Morgan be held accountable for her actions when she was manipulated by outside forces into a place where to survive she had to learn a dark skill? Forced to learn and utilize black magic at the whim of another? I don’t know. My intent would have been twofold. First, to see if my security systems could stand against the worst a witch can produce, which I think we can all agree is the magic done by a black witch. And second, a minor question of mine, curiosity, really. I wanted to know if a good witch could use black magic and not be…wicked.”

The crowd buzzed, and I wasn’t pleased. That little silver bell wasn’t ringing. Had Trent taken advantage of the situation to find out if I was trustworthy?
Son of a bastard…

“Is this to be a morality trial?” Oliver asked, and I swallowed hard. With the room out for my blood, there was no way I could win, and telling them of our beginnings would make things doubly worse.
Damn, damn, and double damn.

“Perhaps,” Trent said, his soft, melodic voice spilling out to fill the room with confidence. “What would have started out as an experiment in security has left me racked with guilt. This is my fault,” he said, and people started to listen. “I was blind to how seriously the witch community would respond to black magic. If I’d known, I would certainly have chosen another method for testing my security.”

Why in the hell wasn’t that bell ringing?
I asked myself, unless Trent was confident that his wording put everything into the theoretical. I couldn’t have gotten away with it, but I wasn’t a bloody politician.

“I feel remorse for having manipulated such an honest person into a bad place,” Trent was saying, his words hitting me hard. “I want to make reparations. Rachel doesn’t deserve imprisonment for the things she has done.” He turned to the coven’s table, holding Lucy’s hand away from his face. “There was an arrangement, Oliver. It went too far. She should be pardoned, and you know it.”

Vertigo was dancing about my brain, and I was glad I was sitting. Trent was referring to the deal we’d agreed to in the FIB interrogation room, and with sudden clarity, I realized I was lost. If Oliver called my bluff, I was lost. My gaze found Ivy and my mother, both dealing with the stress in their separate ways. I couldn’t turn society upside down by telling them where witches had come from—and Oliver knew it.

Vivian invited Oliver to speak, and he laid a hand on his amulet as if covering his heart. “You offered her a job, if I remember correctly,” the highest-ranking member of the coven stated. “Perhaps this is a ploy to get yourself a black witch on your payroll, Mr. Kalamack. A legalized black witch who you think is…good at heart.”

The auditorium buzzed, and from the front row came Jenks’s high-pitched “Go to hell, Oliver! Rachel isn’t working for no scummy politician!”

Vivian gestured to the bell, sending a clear pinging out to silence the crowd. “If I may bring the conversation back to what we’re here for?” she said when they quieted.

Oliver leaned over to look at her. “And just what is that, Vivian, if not holding witches accountable to our laws? Laws that have kept us safe for thousands of years?”

Trent was walking toward me, a faint smile on his face as he sat in the rickety folding chair beside mine. His expression was both confident and satisfied, and not any of it was from Lucy babbling in his arms. Something was up, and I probably wasn’t going to like it. “You took advantage of this to find out if I was a good witch?” I said softly. “And you wonder why I don’t like you?”

“See the course through,” he said, careful to keep from touching his amulet. “There will be hell to pay, but I will see you back on this side of the lines before I’m done. Trust me.”

Frustrated, I sat and crossed my arms over my chest.

Vivian had taken the floor, and slowly the crowd became quiet. “Rachel Morgan and Gordian Pierce knowing black magic is only part of the issue here,” she said, head rising to take in the edges of the room. Her voice had taken on the cadence of a storyteller, and I fidgeted. “This is more than a trial of black witchcraft, but a question of how far we allow accepted morality to stretch to maintain the public safety. Two days ago, I was sent to watch Rachel on her journey here. Two days ago, I was certain that black magic, under any circumstances, was grounds for shunning.”

Oliver leaned forward, eager for the kill. “And now…,” he drawled.

She hesitated, took a breath, then let it out. “Oliver, we’re in trouble,” she said, her voice heavy with concern. It was as if she was speaking to him alone, and I felt a stab of alarm for what might come out of her mouth. “Rachel wasn’t the reason the arch fell,” she said, then, for all the good it did, held up a hand against the rising crowd.

“It fell because of salt-dissolving adhesive?” Oliver muttered, but his voice was completely overwhelmed by the crowd’s noise. Beside me, Pierce grimaced, trying to look positive but coming across as ill. To my other side, Trent was stone faced. I couldn’t tell if this was part of his plan or not. On his lap, Lucy was falling asleep, the bright lights and heat hitting her hard.

“Silence!” Vivian yelled without the aid of her amulet, and most of the crowd shut up. “Let me tell you what happened.”

My foot quivered, and I looked down, then up into the faceless crowd.

“I traveled first behind Rachel, then with her,” Vivian said, only to be interrupted by Oliver.

“And you expect us to believe that you are seeing things clearly?”

Vivian spun to him, her tie-dyed robe furling. “You know I’m not spelled, Oliver,” she said tartly. “Disagreeing with you does not equal having one’s judgment impaired, and if the rest of your bootlickers would grow a pair, we might have some justice here and maybe save our asses! We are in dire danger, and it’s not from Rachel!”

The crowd became silent. Pierce leaned over to me, and with his pinkie just touching the amulet, he whispered, “I like her.”

Someone laughed, and Vivian shot me an encouraging glance. “I stand before you in the sphere of the coven’s truth charm, and I say that I traveled with Rachel, drove her car after she fought off a demon.
A day-walking demon,
” she said loudly when the noise rose. “She didn’t call it, it came of its own volition. I stand here now because she bested it. It was beyond me.”

Not a sound came from the audience as they took that in. “A day-walking demon?” someone shouted. “That’s impossible!”

Trent scuffed his feet to pull eyes to him. “They exist. A demon possessed one of my associates and was able to stay on this side of the ley lines, in the sun. It was Rachel who banished the demon and freed my friend. Day-walking demons are here. Your safety is severely compromised. The rules are evolving!”

He had to shout the last, and Vivian looked worried. I could well imagine the fervor going on past the doors, where this was being piped out. Vivian twitched her dress to gather the crowd’s attention. “Unfortunately, Mr. Kalamack is correct. Demons are finding ways around the rules. Something has changed, and they can walk in daylight unsummoned. As we are now, we can’t stand against them.”

Oliver cleared his throat nervously. “Of course you couldn’t stand against a demon, Vivian. You may be coven, but you were also alone.”

“That’s what I’m saying, Oliver,” she said sarcastically, anger at her own lack of ability bleeding through. “I was alone, but so was Rachel, and she beat him back. My drawn circle fell as if it wasn’t there. Rachel’s didn’t. It held firm. I’m not saying that black magic is stronger. But her magic has the strength of earth magic with the speed and flexibility of ley-line charms, and by continuing to ignore all of it because of the fear of some, we will condemn ourselves along with a good woman.”

I was going to cry. Pierce took my hand, and I squeezed it. Even if I didn’t make it out of here, someone had said I was a good person. It was worth the two thousand miles of bad food, dirty restrooms, and two nights without a bed just to hear someone say it.

“Vivian, stop inflaming the issue,” Oliver stated when he could be heard again, and Vivian turned to the crowd, talking to them.

“I have seen my skills brushed aside as if nothing, and I am scared. Ignorance and denial will get us enslaved or dead. Don’t let fear blind you. Don’t let fear cause you to destroy someone who can stand against them. Rachel fought off a day-walking demon that was released when the arch fell, and you want to shun her?”

She was shouting, but most people were listening. “We all saw the news!” she said, gesturing. “We all felt the tragedy, saw the lives ended. I can’t stop it! The coven can’t stop it. She can!”

“I think she freed it!” Oliver shouted, standing to point a finger at me. “She was there!”

The crowd held its breath, and in the silence, I sat straighter. “I didn’t release the demon from under the arch,” I said, and there was no ping of the bell.

Oliver grimaced as his trap sprang with me safe outside it. The auditorium quieted beyond the haze of the lights, and Oliver’s chair squeaked as he leaned back.

“What scares me,” Vivian said, softer now that she had everyone’s attention, “is that my circle, well drawn and able to handle anything, was nothing to him. This day-walking demon brushed through it. Rachel saved my life at great risk to herself—knowing that I had been sent to spy on her.”

“With black magic,” Oliver muttered.

“Are you that stupid, Oliver?” Vivian belted out, and I realized that most of my trial was going to be a fight for power between these two. The rest of the coven would vote with the winner. My life hinged upon a narrow-minded man and his fears.

“Of course she used black magic!” Vivian said. “Demons are
laughing
at us for our self-imposed ignorance. Rachel used black magic against a demon. It hurt none but herself and saved my life. I have a hard time finding wrong in that.”

Vivian dropped back a step to let people think about it.

“What about Las Vegas?” Oliver stated, too confident in himself to get up. “Property damage and lives ended. The same demon, yes? The same black magic.”

Vivian nodded. “Yes. It took both Pierce and Rachel that time, and the curse they used unfortunately set the building on fire. The bodies found therein were ended by the demon before they could banish it. I can truthfully say that Rachel and Pierce both used restraint in twisting curses. Rachel uses more restraint, actually,” she said as she glanced at me. “And while the demon was not destroyed, it was successfully banished.”

Oliver chuckled. “To do more mischief.”

“Hey!” I blurted out, making Lucy jump in her sleep. “We were trying to survive!”

“And the demon just showed up?” Oliver asked, looking from me to the bell.

“The demon just showed up,” I said clearly, daring the damn bell to ring.

“You are a menace,” Oliver said loudly when it didn’t. “I say we give you to this demon, and maybe it will go away.”

My mouth dropped open, and from the higher seats, a few people clapped. Nearer, through the haze, I saw frightened expressions and heard a soft murmur rise.
Give me to a demon? Was he serious?

Vivian strode dramatically across the stage, gathering eyes to her and taking them from me. “Do you even hear yourself?” she said, putting a hand on the table and leaning toward him.

Oliver drew back, but he was clearly unrepentant. “If she’s a black witch, then giving her to a demon isn’t a crime.”