I'm sworn in by the small gnome woman and then Derek begins his questioning. "How do you know Jerome Van Helsing?" he asks.
"He was my therapist in the mundane world," I say.
And then I explain how Jerry seduced me during the most painful part of my life. How he used our relationship in therapy to become my lover. And how he abused me.
"The first time it happened he was drunk," I say. "He came over to my apartment and demanded to be let in. He accused me of cheating on him and began choking me until I nearly passed out."
I can still feel his hands on my throat. The panic as I couldn't breathe. The belief that I might die.
"The abuse escalated from there," I say. "In another instance he broke my finger when I got angry at him for driving erratically."
It had healed, eventually.
I recount more instances of abuse, my eyes locked on Derek's.
But the real panic doesn't hit until Moira stands to cross-examine me.
"If the abuse was so bad, why didn't you report it?" she asks.
"I was scared," I say. "I also wanted to believe him when he said it wouldn't happen again. I didn't want him to get in trouble."
My excuses sound weak. Lame. But it's so messy when you're in the middle of it. So complicated. It's not as easy to walk away as people think.
"So he was awful and abusive, but you didn't want him to get into trouble? That's odd, don't you think?"
"Objection," Derek says, standing.
"Sustained," the dragon says. "Keep the questions relevant."
"Apologies, your honor," Moira says, refocusing on me. "Why didn't you leave?"
"I did," I say through clenched teeth.
"Why didn't you leave earlier?" she clarifies.
"My brother was dying of cancer. I had no one else to turn to. I was scared, alone, and heartbroken."
"It sounds to me like it wasn't that bad at all," she says, through Derek's objection. Moira smiles. "Withdrawn."
"Jerry didn't just abuse me," I say. "He continued to stalk me after I broke up with him."
Moira cocks her head. "Do you have proof of this?"
"Yes," I say. "I saved screenshots on my phone."
"Can you produce this phone? I'm sure the judge will allow contraband for the purposes of evidence."
Shit. "No, the phone broke," I say.
"How convenient. One final question, Miss Oliver. Isn't it true you're making this up to help your new bosses with their case? That my brother actually broke up with you, and this is your attempt to get revenge for a broken heart?"
"No, that is not true at all," I say, my rage simmering. "Jerry abused his position as my therapist and abused me before I finally broke up with him just before my brother died. Then he continued to stalk me."
I'm shaking. Tears are streaming down my face. I can't breathe as I'm excused from the witness stand and rejoin the Nights at their table.
Sebastian takes my hand the moment I sit, squeezing it reassuringly. His face is hard, his jaw locked as he glares at Jerry and the other Van Helsings.
Derek now presents our case.
We debated about having Dracula testify, but decided against the idea. It could too easily turn against us. Or the count could have another outburst. Instead, Derek calls Liam to testify that he wasn't having an affair with Mary but was actually the doctor helping with her delivery. He calls Elal, the coroner, to testify that it might not have been a vampire who killed her. He calls Leonard to testify that the Dracules had a good marriage, that Dracula was excited about his baby and in love with Mary.
And then he pulls the arguments together. He talks about how this crime was too messy to have been orchestrated by the great Vlad Dracule. How the Van Helsings hold a grudge against the count going back centuries.
He is both persuasive and powerful in his presentation, but the jury doesn't look swayed. In fact, they seem to sneer at Dracula more and more. When the time comes to make a verdict, I suspect they will be driven by emotion rather than logic.
Derek wraps up his speech, and we receive a short five-minute break before closing arguments begin. Each side is allocated thirty minutes. Finally, the end is in sight. Though I dread it more and more. If we lose, and I don’t see how we won’t, Dracula and the Night brothers will suffer for all eternity.
The prosecution goes first. Moira summarizes the facts of the case, reaffirms Dracula’s cruel reputation, and replays the memory from the cat. She fast forwards to the relevant part of Liam’s shoes, and as she does, something catches my eye. Something I hadn’t notice before. As the feline scrambles up an ancient stone gargoyle, I see a speck in the distance, a crop of twigs in the abandoned cathedral opposite of Dracula’s manor. The image lasts less than a second, and the picture is a muddy blur, but I’m sure of what I saw. Someone else was nearby that day. Someone may have seen what happened.
“I need to check on something,” I say quickly, getting to my feet.
“Is something wrong?” Sebastian asks.
“No. It’s about the case. It might be nothing. Or it might help us.”
“I’ll come with you.” He starts to stand, but I gesture for him to stop.
“Stay here.” I look at all three brothers and Lily. “Work together on the closing argument. And…buy me time. Make a commotion if you need to. Liam will come with me.”
They each nod in unison, though they don’t look too happy as they return to their notes.
I rush out of the courtroom, in the most polite-yet-quick walk I can manage, and find Liam pacing by the fireplace. “What’s happened?” he asks, red-hair disheveled, as if he’s been running his hand through it over and over again. “Is the trial over?”
“Not yet.” I grab his hand and pull him toward the exit. “Come on.”
I've lost track of how long it's been since the trial began. Since I was last outside. Since I had any sleep. At least a few days. And when I step out onto the stone square of the courthouse, a storm greets me. Winter has come in earnest, it seems, and brought with it all the pent-up energy of waiting for fall to end. The wind lashes at my face, causing my eyes to tear. Ice, thin and sharp, falls from the sky, beating across my skin. I wrap my arms around myself, shaking, my breath a fog before my eyes. Liam yanks off his cloak and throws it over my head like a hood, then pulls me close, shielding me with his figure. An unnatural warmth radiates from his body and the chill inside me fades away. Liam is so close, his scent overtakes me. Charcoal and wood and the feeling of coming home to a roaring fire. Other feelings begin to rise in me as well, but we don’t have time for those right now.
“Quickly,” I yell over the wind. “To the carriage. We need to get to the Broken Cathedral.”
Liam nods, leading me to a grand stable, fit for fifty horses, opposite the courthouse. Over the last three days, Lily took breaks from the trial to feed her steeds and take them out for rides. There are stable hands in service to the court who do that as well, she told me, but she prefers to do it herself.
Once in the stable, we’re offered some respite from the cold, but it doesn't last long. The smell of straw and manure fill my nose as Liam quickly finds our carriage and opens the door for me. I shake my head, pointing to the driver’s seat. “We need to be able to talk.”
He nods, and together we take Lily’s usual place behind the horses. A part of me wishes I had asked her to come with me, so I could sit cozy in the back with Liam, but when it comes to delaying the court with a distraction, I have more faith in Lily than anyone else. She’s not a lawyer. She doesn’t have as much to lose due to bad behavior. And from what I’ve heard, she’s good at mayhem.
I just hope all of this is worth it.
Liam yanks on the reins and we’re off, rushing down the cobbled streets of the Otherworld, the harsh winds piercing even the warm protection the fire Druid provides.
“What’s going on?” asks Liam. “What happened?”
“I…saw…something,” I say, teeth chattering, making my words st
ilted and broken. “In the memory. There…might be another witness. Someone who saw the truth. But I’ll need your help. I’ll need you…to catch them.”
We arrive at the Broken Cathedral, the Otherworld sky darker than I have ever seen before, the storm clouds blocking out the Dragon’s Breath, and no lanterns to light our way. I nearly trip climbing off the carriage, and Liam raises his hand, his palm lighting with a soft flame, illuminating our near surroundings. “Thanks,” I say. “I’m surprised you didn’t do that earlier. How could you even see the roads?”
“I can see better in the dark than I once did,” he replies quickly. And I remember what Sebastian once told me, that vampires are creatures of shadow.
“What are we looking for?” asks Liam, holding his blazing hand up higher.
“A gargoyle. I’ll know it when I see it.”
He nods, and together we run into the cathedral ruins. In the main hall, half of the roof is gone, making way for snow and ice, and I walk carefully to avoid slipping. “Are the gargoyle’s here alive? Like in the mausoleum?” I ask, as we keep searching.
“They were once,” Liam says somberly. “But when the earthquake that brought this building to ruin came, the gargoyles gave their life so that some of the cathedral could remain standing. They are just stone now.”
I shake my head. “That’s terrible. Why die to protect a building?”
He sighs. “It is what gargoyles do. And they saved many lives that day. You see, the cathedral was still in use at the time.”
I pause, studying a gargoyle near a broken window. It’s not the one I seek, but I take a quick moment to thank it silently, before continuing on.
“It is said,” Liam continues, “that when the cathedral is restored, the gargoyles may return to life.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Is that possible?”
He shrugs. “Such things have happened before.”
We climb higher, searching for the ancient gargoyle in the memory. My heart nearly stops when I see it, perched at the edge of one of the great towers, looking out at the world below. We are near the top of the cathedral now, surrounded by the stone pillars that hold up a solid ceiling. They are spaced far apart, making the area open to the wind and sky, to the dark clouds swirling above. We are so high up, I feel I can almost touch them, these thick rolling masses of thunder and ice.
Here the wind comes swiftly and harshly and leaves just as quickly. Snow has piled on in tall mounds near the pillars. Thick ropes fall from pulley systems built into the ceiling, coiling at our feet, and a golden church bell hangs over our heads, engraved with runes, wider than three horses, so enormous not even the storm can sway it.
I run to the gargoyle, pulling myself up on its wings, much like the cat had done in its memory.
“This is madness,” says Liam. “You’ll fall.”
But I don’t. I stay steady as I climb up over the head of the ancient statue.
And there, at the top, I see it.
A coil of branches and twigs, nestled safely against the crook of a stone wing.
A nest.
Filled with speckled eggs.
Liam climbs up behind me, wrapping his arm protectively around my waist. His hand is no longer on fire, but it's easier to see this close to the Dragon’s Breath. “What are you doing?” he asks. “Have you gone—” He freezes, his eyes landing on the nest. “You don’t think—”
“There’s a bird nearby,” I say, my breath heaving, the cold in me burned away by adrenaline. “And maybe, just maybe, it saw what happened.” I look up, and there, amidst a swirl of dark cloud, I see a raven descending to protect its home. “Your babies are safe,” I say softly. “We mean no harm.” I turn to Liam. “Catch it. But be gentle.”
He nods, and in a flash, he runs up the stone pillar, three steps straight up a horizontal wall, and leaps into the air, catching the bird and holding it like a precious gem. He lands across from me, balanced on the gargoyle's wing, a space only three inches wide. He sits down on the heels of his feet, steady as a rock, and lowers his hands in front of me. The bird, held firmly between his palms, meets my eyes, curiosity in its gaze. It stays still, quietly content, and not thrashing about as I imagined. There is an ease between us I can’t quite understand.
I pull out the memory catcher Sebastian gave me and say the necessary words, praying to see something useful. There are many memories, of flying above Dracula’s manor, of hunting for worms in the dirt, but I feel something inside me, a flash, guiding me to what matters most. There. The memory.
It is dark. The Dragon’s Breath dim in the sky.
The bird sits perched on a tree near Dracula’s front entryway. The door opens, spilling golden light into the shadows, and the Count himself steps out, wrapped in black. But before leaving, he turns back, holding up a gentle hand, and putting it to a woman’s face. Mary. She stands in the doorway, dressed in a white gown, belly large, dark hair messy but beautiful all the same. She looks happy and radiant and a woman ready to bring joy and life into the world. She laughs at something Dracula says, then stands up on her toes and kisses him on the lips. With a final smile, she closes the door, and the Count walks away. The moment is intimate and peaceful, and it will never happen again.
The bird takes flight. It drifts through the quiet air, returning to its nest, studying its eggs. No, I think. That can’t be it. There must be something more.
Something.
To save Dracula.
To save the Night brothers.
But there is nothing. The bird doesn’t leave the nest.
I sigh, my energy dissipating, the cold creeping back into me.
“I’m sorry,” I say, lowering the memory catcher, my eyes blurry as I look at Liam. “I thought I could save you. I thought—”
In the memory, the bird turns toward the manor, and I gasp with astonishment. Somehow, the image of the Dracula’s home, though at least a mile away, is crystal clear.
“Photoreceptive cones,” I mumble, laughing to myself, my eyes filling with tears.
“What are you going on about?” asks Liam.
“Photoreceptive cones in the retina,” I repeat, louder, the strength back in my voice. “Birds have far more than humans. Some can see four or five times further. I read it once.”
Liam smirks.
And the memory continues.
A figure walks toward the Manor, moving briskly. They wear a long brown coat. Their hair is a mess of dark curls.
It can’t be…
And yet, Jerome Van Helsing enters the Dracule Manor on the night of the murder. Several moments later he steps out, his clothing soaked in blood.
My hands shake at the sight, and I almost drop the crystal. Instead, I lose my balance and Liam catches me, steadying me, and gently lowers the bird to the ground. It jumps into its nest, sitting calmly near its eggs.
“We need to get this back to the courthouse.” I turn, looking over the snow-covered fields below, and a stone sinks in my throat. It will take a long time to climb back down the cathedral and even longer to ride back to the courthouse. There’s no way we’ll make it back before the trial is over. No way, unless…
“Go,” I say, pushing the Memory Catcher into Liam’s hand. “You’re faster than me.”
He pauses, still holding me with his other hand. I expect him to argue, to spew warnings about my safety. Instead, he meets my eyes, a fierce determination in his gaze, and nods once slowly.
And then, he leaps off the cathedral.
The earth cracks where Liam lands, kicking up dust and snow, and leaving veins of black in the stone. He bends his knees to absorb the impact, and stands up without hesitation, red hair wild in the storm. He doesn’t take the carriage. He just runs, faster than I have seen anyone run before.
I turn away from the dizzying sight and crouch, staying low as I climb back down the statue and make my way under the great bell, looking for the stairs. Without Liam’s fire to guide me, it’s near pitch-black inside. I almost reach the st
airs when a warm orange glow spills out from their depths. For a second, I freeze, bewildered, and then I realize someone is coming, carrying light.
My first thought is Sebastian must have come looking for us. But then I see the man step onto my floor, blazing-torch in hand. The man from my nightmares.
“You found something, didn’t you,” says Jerry, his face half in shadow, the other half cast in red angry light. “A memory.” These are not questions. Just statements.
“I need to return to the courthouse,” I say, trying to step around him.
He blocks the path, the heat from his torch too close to my face, too hot on my skin.
“I can explain,” he says, brown coat billowing in the wind. “I received a letter. Signed by Mary. She asked for my help. That’s why I was there that night.”
I take a deep breath, trying to keep my emotions in check. Though I find it hard to look at him, I meet his eyes, looking for sincerity. For kindness. He does not have these things.
“Where is this special letter then?” I ask.
He bows his head. “Not here.”
“Then go get it.”
“I can’t. It’s gone. Went missing.”
I snicker, unable to contain my sneer. “Well that’s very convenient for you, isn’t it?”
“It’s the truth,” he says, and for once, he looks broken, weak and fragile and human like I have never seen him before. But that doesn’t mean he’s earnest.
“Then prove it to the court,” I say, pushing past him.
He grabs my arm, hard enough to bruise. “They’ll never believe me. Not after your testimony. You need to withdraw your statement. Say you were manipulated. Say you were confused. I don’t care. Say you were wrong.” He growls, and the sound from his mouth is nothing human.
“I wasn’t wrong,” I say. “The things you did to me were horrific. And you will never do them to anyone else again.”
He snarls, grabbing me by the neck and yanking me close, so close the stench of his breath is on my face, and I see his teeth are sharper than before. Mouth dripping with saliva.
I Am the Wild (The Night Firm Book 1) Page 19
