The Gods Defense (Laws of Magic Book 1)

by Amie Gibbons

  “We didn’t do anything to get America. What we did was long before the English language, let alone this country.”

  “Oooookay.”

  I tried to focus on the road but the darkness and heat blasting from my vents made me sleepy.

  Couldn’t I just dismiss the case tomorrow since the guy actually was innocent? A god really did make him do it. I had a duty as a prosecutor to share exculpatory information, though I wasn’t allowed to under my deal with Apollo. But I also had a duty to not pursue a prosecution if I knew the person was innocent.

  I shook my head, blinking and refocusing on the road.

  Why didn’t whatever the Greeks do to the Native Americans bother me? Why wasn’t I pushing it?

  The questions hung in the fog of my mind, inching forward as I shook my head to wake back up.

  “Apollo, I’m not as pissed off about not knowing what you guys did to the Native Americans as I think I should be. It doesn’t seem to bother me. Is there a reason for that?”

  Silence.

  I sat up straighter and turned down the heat. “Apollo?”

  “I… I don’t want you to be upset.”

  My blood ran cold. I was awake now.

  “Those are never comforting words. What did you do?”

  “I didn’t. Not specifically.”

  “Apollo. What. Did. You. Do?”

  “The joining of our magic… does more than merely allow me to draw energy from you efficiently. It’s a side-effect.”

  “One that comes from most joinings?” I asked, my voice so quiet and cold I was surprised it didn’t frost the steering wheel. “As in, you knew something was going to happen, some side-effect, and you didn’t tell me? Didn’t warn me?”

  “Would it have changed your decision? You wanted to save your mother. You did.”

  “Not the point. Now tell me what the hell you did to me.”

  “I joined with you.”

  “Stop beating around the bush, Apollo. This isn’t a courtroom and you’re not a hostile witness on the stand. You’re my boss and the man who wants, I’m sorry, allegedly wants, to be in a relationship with me. Answer the question. What side-effects?”

  “You say we’re not in a courtroom but you pull out words like allegedly.”

  “You’re not cute. I don’t find you cute right now. And you’re not going to distract me.”

  He paused, like it was too much to say it, like it would shift the world just as much as when he said he could wake up my mom, only in the opposite direction this time.

  “The joining makes you more warm, I guess is the best English word for it, towards me. The joining makes you trust me more, feel for me more, like me more. It makes you more peaceful and willing to let a disagreement go. To make the magic flow out of you, your body has to be tricked almost, into giving it up. I’m not a scientist, but it basically stimulates a chemical that promotes bonding in humans.”

  I flashed back to Millie babbling about this crap One-L year when she was broken hearted and trying to figure out the science behind it. Oxy… oxytocin. The bonding or cuddle hormone.

  Not that the name of the damn thing mattered.

  “You drugged me!” My voice broke and my nose stung. I couldn’t deal with this. Couldn’t process this right now.

  I’d kissed him! Almost did more. And it was based on a lie? On a chemical reaction he induced in me. He may as well have spiked my drink at a dance club.

  “You-” Apollo started.

  “No,” I hissed, my nose stinging again, tears welling behind my eyes.

  It was a trick!

  “Do you know the term mens rea, Apollo. It means guilty mind. Intent and knowledge are the two highest ones, they get you the most time.”

  I paused, drawing a breath to steady my voice. “Did you join with me with this in mind? Was it a side-effect, or was it the point?”

  “Cassandra.”

  I nodded, eyes burning as a tear slipped out. “God, that’s why you had to join with me even though you didn’t need my powers like you said. You… how could you?”

  “I-”

  “No. You don’t speak. I’m working for you because I have to. But we’re done. I can’t trust you. I don’t trust you.”

  I wiped under my eye and took a deep breath. “You are as manipulative and using as I thought you were. I work for you, but we’re not friends. We’re never going to be anything more because I will never know if my feelings are real, or some cheap magic trick meant to make me give it up easier. And yes, I mean that in all possible definitions of ‘give it up.’ I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Apollo started to say something and I hit end.

  I don’t know how I got home. The route was so pounded into my head, I drove home on autopilot. The next thing I knew, I was pulling into my parking garage. I parked and went upstairs in a haze.

  I didn’t know what time it was besides night. Didn’t care.

  I unlocked the door and went in. The TV was on with Kelsey asleep on the couch. It could’ve been past bedtime or early enough for her to be taking a nap. I didn’t turn it off because it was low enough, and my movements woke her up the last time I turned it off. She needed her sleep.

  I went into my bedroom, almost closed the door before I remembered my boys were somewhere. I should’ve heard them running, but there was the barest hint of noise through the cotton filling my head.

  Nothing was real. Nothing was solid or loud or bright. It all had a fuzzy edge, ready to be manipulated by anything with power.

  I looked down and my boys were at my feet. If dogs could look worried, they did. How long had I been standing here, holding my bedroom door open?

  I closed it, took off my glasses and curled up in bed without taking off my clothes.

  My boys jumped up with me and took their favorite positions, Webber against my back and Puccini curled into a ball against my chest. I pulled him close like a teddy bear and let myself sink into darkness, one thought ping-ponging through my head.

  I knew it.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I woke up with the suddenness of falling, eyes popping open like they were spring loaded. Sunlight streamed through the gap in my curtains in a strip way too bright to be earlier than my alarm. I grabbed my phone off my nightstand.

  Eight Twenty!

  I scrambled out of bed, sending my boys scampering away. I was supposed to be at the courthouse in ten minutes! The trial started at nine.

  I grabbed my glasses and the black suit and bright blue silk shell I’d picked out yesterday before meeting with Apollo.

  Apollo. The man I was kissing and dry humping yesterday. The man who manipulated my emotions so I couldn’t even trust myself. So I’d never be able to trust myself again.

  Nope, couldn’t go there.

  “Just keep moving,” I whispered.

  # # #

  I threw on clothes, brushed my teeth, swiped on some makeup, slicked my hair into a bun, grabbed my casefile and my heels, and was out the door in twelve minutes. Not a record mad-morning-dash for me, but respectable. I made it to the courthouse and parked just before nine and ran inside.

  When Spenser entered the courtroom, I asked to approach immediately. Hopefully we could handle this right here and now.

  “Good morning, Ms. Berry, Mr. Reily,” Spenser said when we got up to the bench, looming over us like a giant crow in his robes.

  My head didn’t quite clear the top of the bench and my neck already hurt from craning it up. Psychological positioning telling everyone in the courtroom the judge was king.

  “I understand you have a motion to discuss.”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” I said.

  And stopped.

  If I tried to dismiss the charges now, how would that look? People would know by next week I took a job with the gods. A prosecutor taking a job after dismissing a case that implicated her new boss, even indirectly? Not good.

  Shit. I was going to have to do this one. Even knowing the Defendant wasn�
�t responsible for his actions. They didn’t cover ethical quandaries like this in law school.

  “I would like to submit to the court, on the record, my objection to the use of The Gods Defense, and ask for a continuance to be able to file a writ to appeal the decision to allow the defense before the jury is brought in.”

  “Ms. Berry, the Defense is allowed to present their theory of the case. If there’s a specific objection to the evidence presented or to the expert testimony, you may state it when it comes up and we can decide what to do then. If I rule against you, obviously you’ll be able to take that up the chain just like in any other case. Motion is Overruled.”

  I tried on a grin. Hopefully it looked more real than it felt.

  Everything was fake. Holographic. Like I grasped the world just enough to pull on it and found out the setting was a picture on a giant flap.

  “Had to try,” I said. “The Prosecution is ready to proceed then.”

  # # #

  We got through jury selection without any fireworks, which was kind of disappointing. I was looking forward to someone saying something more interesting than yes or no when Reily asked the jurors if any of them would have any problems finding a man was under control of a god if the evidence so showed.

  Maybe I was just hoping for something loud and flashy to pull me back into the world, to make me feel real and solid again.

  I stood up, straightening my jacket and grabbing my notepad. I wasn’t going to read off it, just hold it to keep my hands from talking with me. I had my details down enough to lay out the story for the jurors in my opening and fill the rest in on the fly.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” I said, facing them, keeping my hands firmly on my notepad. “I’m Cassandra Berry, I am representing the state in this case. During the opening, my job is to give you the story of the case, and then I will show you the evidence of each part I tell you during the actual presentation of the case, mostly through witnesses testifying on the stand.”

  I tapped a finger against the notepad like it held all the answers. “On the night of February ninth, Mr. Sean Ashworth went to The Station Inn to hear the Sunday bluegrass jam, a last hurrah of the weekend. He hung out near the door, grabbed a beer, and next thing he knew, he was on the ground.”

  A wave of dizziness swept through me and I grabbed the wooden partition separating the jurors from the well.

  I shook my head. “Um… People around saw what happened, you’ll hear some of them testify that the Defendant swung at Mr. Ashworth’s head with a beer bottle like he was Babe Ruth, and broke the bottle across his head. Mr. Ashworth staggered, turned around, and then the Defendant punched him in the nose, breaking it and knocking Mr. Ashworth to the ground.

  “Once Mr. Ashworth was down, the Defendant proceeded to the bar to order another beer like nothing had happened. Mr. Ashworth suffered from a cut on his head, a concussion, and a broken nose. He had to go to the emergency room to be treated.”

  I shrugged. “That’s it. That’s why we’re here. The Defense isn’t claiming this is a case of mistaken identity or self-defense, or the Defendant was suffering from a mental illness, or even just drunk and stupid. The Defense does have an explanation for you though. And as they lay out their story for you, remember, it’s your job as the jury to decide who’s telling the truth, to weigh the evidence and figure out what the evidence adds up to, and decide guilt or innocence based on that.”

  I finished with a summary of who would be our witnesses and sat down. It wasn’t a great opening, it wasn’t even a good one. But it covered the bases enough for the jury to know what happened and it didn’t say anything that could get me in trouble later.

  With the Board of Professional Responsibility or with the gods.

  My head swam and I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to lay my head down on the desk.

  Why was I so tired?

  Reily stood, took a sip of water, and buttoned his suit jacket. All very deliberate, affected, a show for the jurors.

  “The Prosecution laid out the facts perfectly,” he said, walking up to the jury with an easy gait. “That is what happened. Mr. Zelinski isn’t disputing that. But we are presenting what we in the legal world have named The Gods Defense. What we intend to show today, through eyewitness testimony and expert testimony, is that Mr. Zelinski was not in control of his actions. Someone with magic took control of his body and swung that beer bottle and his fist.”

  Reily paused for the jury’s reaction. They ranged from bored to gasps. “He doesn’t remember hitting Mr. Ashworth. All he knows is he was in the middle of a beer, listening to music, and then he didn’t have his beer. He thought he must have dropped it, and went to grab another one.

  “When he did, he noticed people looking at him, pulling out cell phones, taking pictures of something behind him. He turned to see what it was, and that was the first time he saw Mr. Ashworth as anyone besides just another person in the crowd. He was also the first one to pull out his phone to call nine-one-one, instead of taking pictures of the bleeding man to post on Facebook. He didn’t know he was the one who hit the man until someone else told him.

  “He was confused, and more than a little scared, but he didn’t run. He stayed to talk to the police, to sort out what happened, to make sure Mr. Ashworth was okay. When you hear the testimony today, keep my client’s actions after the assault in mind. He didn’t seem to know what was going on at first, then he called nine-one-one, and stayed to help. Who, if they had meant to harm someone, would do that?”

  He paused again, letting that sink in. “We’re going to be asking a lot from you in the next two days. You’re going to be presented with expert testimony on magic, mind control and neuroscience, and we’re going to ask you to keep it all straight, weigh it, and decide if it applies here. That’s because it’s on us to prove our affirmative defense once the Prosecution proves beyond a reasonable doubt that he committed the offense in the first place.

  “And these are uncharted waters. We are going to have to convince you that someone took Mr. Zelinski over magically and attacked Mr. Ashworth.”

  Reily shook his head, face strained and sad. “The evidence will show Mr. Zelinski was as much a victim as Mr. Ashworth. Maybe more so. Because while he was physically unharmed, his mind was invaded. He was violated, used, and left to face the consequences by something with no regard for the sanctity of the human mind.”

  No regard. Yeah.

  Apollo did that to me. Invaded my mind, the chemicals that affected how it worked. How I perceived the world. How I perceived him.

  How could he?

  Tears filled my eyes and I looked down at my notes spread over the table. I didn’t hear the rest of Reily’s speech.

  I needed to get out of here, just for a moment.

  I just needed a moment.

  By some miracle, Reily wrapped it up and Spenser gave us a ten minute recess.

  I walked out, careful not to pick up the pace and call attention to myself until I was out of the courtroom.

  I hauled ass down the hall to the bathroom, locked the door and let the tears come. I crumbled, holding my stomach and sobbing in shards.

  Somebody knocked on the door and I sucked my breath in enough to yell, “Occupied.”

  “Cassandra?” came through the door. “It’s Tyler, open up.”

  Relief washed through me and I stood, unlocking the door and opening it just enough to let her know I was letting her in, then stepped back to stay out of sight while she slipped in and closed it behind her.

  She was a clerk for Judge Marinello upstairs, but how had she known where I was? Or, hell, that anything even happened?

  Tyler swept her mismatched gaze down and up my body, pursing her lips and plopping her purse on the counter. “What’s wrong? And you’re a mess.”

  I met her eyes. One green and one brown one. It wasn’t magic, she’d been born with them.

  “I can’t get into this right now,” I pulled off my glasses and wiped
under my eyes before plopping them back on, glad I didn’t have the time to put on mascara or pop in my contacts. “I’m in the middle of a trial.”

  “I know. I was listening in my office.”

  I looked up. “You can do that?”

  “Yeah, we can tap into the feed and watch the proceedings as they’re recorded. I was listening to it while I worked, and I’m glad I didn’t see it. I would’ve had to come down to fix you up in the middle of voir dire.”

  She rifled around in her massive Louis Vuitton and pulled out a brush and a clear makeup bag. I took the brush and stared at it, realizing I couldn’t do anything with it since my hair was in a bun.

  “Your hair’s escaping.” Tyler moved so I could see the mirror.

  I stared. I looked… broken. My eyes wide and red behind my glasses, my bottom lip cracked, and my hair fuzzing up in a black halo. Hadn’t I slicked it back? Maybe I used water instead of pomade? I couldn’t remember.

  I unclipped my hair and shook it out of its bun.

  Tyler took the brush from me and stepped behind me, brushing my hair like a big sister, looking for all the world like an actress playing a lawyer. With the red hair, Marilyn Monroe curves, and designer suits that made Brooks Brothers look like the Goodwill, it wasn’t much of a jump.

  “Is it Apollo?” she asked, grabbing a chunk of hair tightly so she could work the brush through the knot at the bottom.

  I’d barely remembered to call her and Millie Friday night to tell them I was out of the meeting and fine and would catch them up on Monday after my trial.

  I nodded.

  “I got a new job.”

  “What?” She didn’t pause in her smooth, steady brushing despite the raised voice.

  “I should have told you Friday night, but I was going to see my mom… my mom’s awake.”

  Tyler kept brushing, her face in the mirror giving nothing away. “I’m sorry, what!”

  “I made a deal.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “I’m going to go work for Apollo.”

  Now she stopped brushing. “No.”