Pirate's Alley (36 page)

Now the mutterings grew so loud that Zrakovi paused the video until it quieted down.

“I can tell you without a doubt that Garrett Melnick killed my father,” Adrian continued once the video started again. “I witnessed it myself. And he made it look as if an animal had done it in order to implicate Jacob Warin.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Zrakovi muttered.

“Garrett Melnick also set two explosives in the building where the council met yesterday. The target of the bombing was the clan chief of the fire elves, Quince Randolph, and his bondmate, Sentinel Drusilla Jaco. Melnick was acting on information supplied by Mace Banyan in exchange for a political alliance between the elves and vampires, against the wizards. He wanted Randolph under control to secure his spot on the council and with the Synod.”

Adrian went on a while longer, but the point had been made. Rand leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful expression, no doubt figuring out how to spin whatever it was he had to announce.

Finally, with the video done, Zrakovi turned to Christof. “Your majesty, could you share with us how you got this recording?”

Christof nodded, and I reconsidered whether I’d made the right choice in daydreaming of Sean-Bean-as-Boromir instead of Viggo-as-Aragorn. He made a fine-looking fake
Lord of the Rings
character. “Of course, Mr. Zrakovi. I was working in my office in Faery about two o’clock local time, rewriting weather coordinates to help the dire situation of New Orleans. A courier left the disk in a plain white envelope in my inbox, and my secretary delivered it with my afternoon mail. I questioned her, and would have brought her along if I thought it would help, but she had no recollection of who left it.”

Faery princes had offices and secretaries, and plotted weather coordinates on computers? Since I was probably soon to be unemployed, I’d have plenty of time to catch up on my faery research.

“Very well. It’s clearly Adrian in the video—many of us know him quite well. And he didn’t appear to make the statement under duress. Mr. Randolph, would you like to add something about this particular matter?”

“Yes.” Rand stood up. “I’m so sorry to announce that my colleague Mace Banyan met with an unfortunate accident in Elfheim this evening. I was called about it by Betony Stoneman, chief of our earth clan, and by the time I arrived in Elfheim he was dead.”

Zrakovi’s mouth opened and closed several times before he could get himself under control. “How … how did Mr. Banyan die?”

“I believe he was crushed beneath an airplane,” Rand said, as if that were the most normal death imaginable. “He was an amateur pilot and enjoyed working on his own planes.” He paused, then added, “It’s quite common among the air clan.

“But,” Rand continued, “in light of that, I would like to inform the council that with the vacuum of leadership in Elfheim, we held an emergency meeting a short while ago and I humbly accepted the position as head of the Elven Synod. I would like to nominate my colleague Betony Stoneman as the second elven representative if it meets with council approval. He will be here shortly.” Rand looked around the room. “Thank you.”

Holy crap. He’d killed Mace. Not only killed Mace, but taken over the Synod. Too bad he was about to get his own set of handcuffs to match mine and Jake’s.

CHAPTER
32

Zrakovi called a brief recess so those who wished to do so could stretch their legs. I suspected he needed to regroup.

“Did you know about that?” Jake asked.

“Not at all.” Thank God. That’s one secret I didn’t want to carry around.

What do you think, Dru?
Rand had turned his sunny smile toward me.

I think you better not ever tell me what really happened.

Rand smiled, but I caught a hint of attitude on his face that I didn’t like. His surprises weren’t done.

“If everyone could be seated, let’s get started again.” Zrakovi banged a gavel he’d come up with from somewhere. “I think it’s clear that the charges against Jacob Warin for the death of Geoffrey Hoffman must be dismissed, and apologies to Mr. Warin for the false accusation.”

Jake’s expression didn’t change. He’d been working on that blank-face thing.

“However, before Mr. Banyan … died, he passed along information that we’ve been able to verify independently.”

“Alex is a rat,” Jake breathed, and I elbowed him. Alex wasn’t a rat, and Betony could very well have corroborated Mace’s story before Rand bought him off, or however he got to the head of the earth clan.

Zrakovi continued. “It concerns an incident that occurred in November shortly before Thanksgiving, in which Mr. Warin infected Sentinel Drusilla Jaco with the loup-garou virus following an argument during which he lost control. This, of course, is a grave offense with the loup-garou, and it has been my experience that once a loup-garou shows an inability to maintain control, it will continue to happen.”

Blah blah blah. I wondered who was writing Z’s speeches now that Adrian wasn’t the Elder office toady anymore.

“… first like to question Sentinel Drusilla Jaco, if she would take a seat here in front, please.”

Sure, trot me out in front of everybody. No problem. I was getting used to it.

I plopped into the seat next to Zrakovi and clanked my handcuffs on the ugly mahogany veneer that so many wizards had gone into creating. I swear that Elder Sato, who had arrived late, and my uncle were both fighting laughter.

“Ms. Jaco, I’d like to ask a series of questions and, if you would, please keep your answers precise, succinct, and to the point.”

Who did he think I was, Truman Capote? Or Jean Lafitte?

“Are you aware of the incident referred to in this report?”

I’d show him succinct. “Yes.”

“And did Mr. Jacob Warin lose control during an argument and infect you with the loup-garou virus?”

“No.”

Silence. Zrakovi repeated his question. “Would you like to reconsider your answer? Lying to the council will only add to the repercussions.”

“We were not arguing. We were having a discussion.”

“Ms. Jaco…”

“You asked me to be precise.”

Zrakovi was getting pissed. Maybe I could push him into a stroke myself.

“Very well. Did Mr. Jacob Warin lose control during a
discussion
and infect you with the loup-garou virus?”

“No.”

Zrakovi took a deep breath. I think I heard another f-bomb.

“Ms. Jaco, tell us what did happen, in words of which you approve.”

“Sure.” Exactly what I wanted. “Jake and I were having breakfast after visiting the crime scene of one of the Axeman of New Orleans’ first crimes last month. We got in a discussion about how he was adjusting to being turned loup-garou after Katrina. I was waving my hands around as I talked”—I waved my cuffed wrists in the air and banged them on the table again—“and my arm accidentally grazed against Jake’s tooth hard enough to break skin. He was horrified.”

Except for the part where Jake had been snarling and holding on to my arm and trying to fight off his wolf, that account was entirely true.

Zrakovi tapped his pen against the folder in front of him. “So you’re telling me that Mr. Warin never lost control?”

“He never lost control.” Which was true. He left to keep from losing control.

“But you were infected with the loup-garou virus.”

“Yes.”

“How did you find out the virus was active?”

I paused. How much detail had Mace gone into? “I gave myself a blood test and began having symptoms.”

“Symptoms such as…”

“Healing faster than normal.” No point in mentioning the low-grade fever or the short temper.

“And did you, indeed, turn loup-garou?”

“No.” By God, I wasn’t volunteering anything. I’d make him ask me.

“How did you avoid it?”

Rand?

Go ahead and tell him the truth—you know, about how much we love each other.

Oh, brother.

“I was told by the man I was dating that he was immune. He offered to exchange blood to share that immunity with me.” Okay, maybe I’d volunteer a few things, just because I could sense Zrakovi getting pissed again. “I mean, Rand and I were headed toward being bonded anyway.

“We couldn’t stay away from each other.”

Because he was stalking me like a sociopath.

“We could finish each other’s sentences.”

Because he could read my mind.

“He’d know what I wanted for dinner without me saying so.”

Ditto.

“If I had shifted, it would have ruined the life we had planned together.”

Crap on a stick, but I was a good actress. Kiss me and hand me the Oscar.

Alex coughed, and I swore I heard him mutter “bullshit” right in the middle of it.

Zrakovi rubbed his eyes, and if I hadn’t been so annoyed with him I’d have felt sorry for him. It must be frustrating to try and manipulate people who wouldn’t roll over and cooperate.

“Ms. Jaco. DJ. When you bonded with Mr. Randolph, were you aware that he was in line to inherit a seat on the Synod?”

“Yes. His mother, Vervain, was on the Synod at the time.”

“Was the intent of Mr. Randolph in bonding with you to strengthen his position within the Synod and, by forming an alliance with a wizard, assure himself of a seat on the Interspecies Council?”

I pretended to consider the question. “It’s an interesting theory, sir, but I don’t believe it’s possible. I mean, at the time we were bonded, Rand’s mother was quite healthy, and either she or one of the other Synod members would be on the council. There was no way Rand could know his mother was going to pass away so suddenly.” I paused. “Bless her heart.”

Bravo, Dru. I hadn’t even thought of that angle.

Neither had Zrakovi, from the pained look on his face.

“That is all, Ms. Jaco. You may return to your seat.”

“Bench,” I said. One must be precise.

He ignored me.

Zrakovi sat in silence for a while, flipping through papers.

“Very well. I don’t see the point in belaboring this further,” Zrakovi finally said. “In light of today’s testimony, I believe this to be a matter for the wizarding community and not the full council, so I’ll ask your patience as we conclude this issue.

“Jacob Warin, will you stand, please?”

Jake winked at me as he stood, then gave Zrakovi a look of utter contempt.

“You were in the employ of the Congress of Elders and the enforcers at the time of this incident. I understand that rather than reporting it, you left New Orleans and began living in the Beyond. Is that true?”

“Sure is,” Jake drawled.

“Given that the incident appears not to have been malicious, as First Elder I hereby terminate your employment by the Elders and shifter community, and sentence you to one year of imprisonment for failure to report this incident. Said imprisonment will begin immediately and will take place in the wizarding facility at Ittoqqortoormiit, Greenland. Do you understand?”

“Yep. Sure will be cold.”

“Drusilla Jaco, will you stand?”

I stood, lecturing myself inwardly. I’ll channel Jake and be insolent. I won’t cry. I won’t cry. I won’t cry. It’s just a job.

“It is the duty of a sentinel to not only uphold the laws of the wizarding community as established by the Elders, but to set an example to other wizards. By failing to report this incident and, indeed, by covering it up, you failed in this duty. I hereby terminate your status as sentinel of the Greater New Orleans Region, and am revoking your Green Congress license pending further investigation. During this investigatory period, however long it might take, you will be imprisoned in the wizarding facility in Ittoqqortoormiit.

“Until a new sentinel can be appointed, Elder Lennox St. Simon has agreed to fill the sentinel post on a temporary basis.”

That snake. They were putting me on ice indefinitely. On
ice.
A non-weather-related chill washed over my skin. I was bonded to a full-blooded elf. I couldn’t be on ice.

Dru, you can’t go to Greenland. You’ll die. Get away from them and hide until I get this cleared up. I’ll create a distraction after I do one more thing.

“Ms. Jaco, do you understand your sentence?” Zrakovi asked.

“Oh yeah, I understand all right.” I understood I was going to get back at that son of a bitch. It might not be tonight, but it would happen.

I looked at Alex, who stared at me with eyes widened one step short of panic.

Sitting down again, I reached over and grabbed Jake’s hands as if to console him, and shot some of my native magic into his cuffs. I heard the tiny clink as they released, and he had the presence of mind to keep his hands still. No one would suspect he was free. Then I did the same thing to my own cuffs. Stupid wizards. Even a baby with no magical training could unsnap regular handcuffs.

Once again, Zrakovi had underestimated what I could do.

Now we had to wait on Rene or Rand to cause a distraction. Then Jake and I needed to get the hell out. I wasn’t going to Greenland to either rot in prison while my case was “under review” or “accidentally” get locked outside and go into permanent hibernation if Rand couldn’t fix this right away.

“Elder Zrakovi.” Rand stood up, and I took a deep breath. Here came the rest of whatever he’d been plotting this afternoon. “I have one more item of business I need to put before the council.”

“Can’t it wait, Mr. Randolph?” Zrakovi sounded tired. Good. I hoped he was exhausted and miserable.

“No, it can’t.”

Rand walked around the corner of the table, past Zrakovi, and opened the door. He moved out of sight for a few seconds, and when he returned he wasn’t alone. Betony Stoneman, head of the earth clan and new council member, was with him.

Between them, looking like she was a few loads shy of a full deck, was Eugenie.

CHAPTER
33

I sat up straight so fast it was a wonder I didn’t drop my handcuffs and give myself away. I looked at Jean, whose jaw was clenched tightly enough that the scar running along his jawline stood out. The temperature in the room dropped at least thirty degrees, and, across the room, both Sabine and Florian looked suspiciously at Christof.