After that bland and less than satisfying dinner, I felt reluctant to retire for the night because I knew, only too well, what awaited me… fighting off Bram’s sexual advances.
Once he unlocked the door to our room, I took a deep breath and faced him, hoping he wouldn’t get any ideas although I was sure it was too late for that. “I’m exhausted.”
He smiled knowingly. “Very well, you should sleep.”
Vampires don’t sleep much so I had no idea what he planned to do while I got my zzz’s but I couldn’t say I really cared either. I threw my suitcase on the bed and began rifling through it, looking for my jammies.
“Please do not forget our contract,” Bram said as he watched me pull out a white t-shirt and blue and white striped short shorts.
I glanced at him and frowned. “I haven’t forgotten and yes, I am well aware of our contract.”
He took a seat in one of the two club chairs, each beside the bed, stretching his long legs out before him, and linking his arms behind his head as he settled in for the show. A long, slow smile spread across his face.
“I am waiting,” he prompted.
I shook my head, silently bemoaning the fact that I’d ever agreed to this as I leaned over to untie my shoelaces and pull off my sneakers. As far as I was concerned, this was going to be the shortest disrobing ever. After I pulled off my shoes and socks, I pulled my sweats down and stepped out of them. I glanced up at Bram. Why? I wasn’t sure, but found his eyes riveted on me.
“Very lovely legs,” he whispered.
“Thanks,” I said and taking a deep breath, pulled my t-shirt over my head, exposing my bra. Of course, nothing in my life is easy so the t-shirt got caught up on my idiotic wings. I wrestled with the t-shirt and my wings for about two minutes before Bram chuckled and stood up, approaching me.
He reached behind me and helped push my wings through the neck of the t-shirt. Then he stood in front of me, smiling down at me like I was some kind of big idiot.
“Would you prefer to deliver your kiss now or later?” he asked loftily.
Dammit, I forgot about the kiss I’d agreed to give him each day… with tongue. Ugh. “Let’s just get it over with,” I grumbled.
His eyebrows reached for the ceiling. “Get it over with? No woman has ever said as much to me before.”
“Yeah, well, there’s a first time for everything.” I shook my head and craned my neck upwards. “Pucker up, baby.”
I wasn’t actually prepared for Bram’s kiss. I thought it would just be an innocent enough peck with a bit of tongue peeking through, but such wasn’t the case. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me, pushed me against the wall and brought his lips to mine gently, kissing and biting at my lower lip. After a few seconds, I felt his tongue in my mouth and, thinking I needed to keep my end of the bargain, I met his tongue with mine. After what felt like another minute, I pulled away.
I have to confess, Bram wasn’t a bad kisser. In fact, he, um, was a pretty good one.
He smiled down at me. “I quite enjoyed that, sweet.”
“Yeah, well, I’m getting tired so let’s get this show on the road,” I said, perhaps a little too gruffly, as if trying to hide my flushed cheeks and racing heartbeat..
And Bram didn’t miss a thing. I silently grabbed my night shirt, unclasped my bra and pulled it off. Then, in a split second, I had my night shirt over my head, which caught on my wings again…
“Son of a!” I yelled, realizing my breasts were completely visible.
Bram’s chuckle deepened as I felt his hands smoothing the shirt over my wings. “I believe I need to cut a hole in your shirt, sweet.”
“Okay, fine,” I said in an exasperated sigh.
Bram merely leaned down and tore the shirt with his fangs. I heard the sounds of fabric ripping, after which he smoothed the t-shirt over my wings. Glancing down to see I was finally covered, I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thanks,” I muttered as I pulled out my pajama shorts and put them on over my thong underwear, even though I usually didn’t sleep with panties. In this case, however, I figured Bram had already had an ample eyeful of my breasts and I wasn’t in the mood to share anymore.
“Goodnight,” I said and before he could argue, I drew the blankets down, crawled into bed and turned off the table lamp beside me.
Ten
“Please do not do anything rash,” Bram said as we stood outside the ANC courthouse. It was the same building we entered at the “airport” when we first arrived in the Netherworld.
“Rash?” I repeated, shaking my head as if “rash” weren’t even a consideration, as if my M.O. merely consisted of “even-keeled,” “thorough” and “deliberate.” I started for the glass entry doors and threw Bram a backwards glance. “I’m fully aware of our plan.”
Bram said nothing else but, judging by his body language, it didn’t appear he was convinced. He easily caught up with me and accompanied me through the double doors. Once inside, the first thing that commanded my attention was the metal detector that blocked the only hallway in the room. The same bored woman was sitting behind the long desk at the front of the lobby; and, yes, she was still entirely fixated on her nails. The uniformed guard I’d seen last time wasn’t there this time.
I glanced at the metal detector and the creature behind it, who was so small, he was seated on a stool. It was a creature I’d never seen before—small as I mentioned—maybe as tall as my knees and as thin as my legs. It was covered with snowy white fur and almost looked like a monkey—like someone had taken a monkey and stretched him out. It wore a uniform so I assumed it was an ANC employee. And I guess that was made even more obvious by the fact that it was working the detector.
“Please empty your pockets and place your purse on the conveyor belt,” the monkey-like creature said in a high-pitched voice that sounded almost robotic.
Good thing I hadn’t brought my Op 6. Well that is, good thing Bram insisted I leave my weapon in the hotel room, saying I needed to remain under the radar. I’m sure if I happened to pull the Op 6 out of my shoulder holster now, I’d have lots of questions I wasn’t in the mood to answer. And a blown cover to boot.
I plopped my purse on the conveyor belt and walked through the detector, silently relieved when it didn’t go off. I waited nervously while I watched the x-ray image of my purse on the screen as it came out the other side of the conveyor. I snatched it off the belt and turned to see how Bram was faring. When the vampire walked through the detector, it screeched at him with a litany of bells and flashing lights and, if it were possible for a vampire to look stunned, that was how Bram looked. A few seconds later, a burly were materialized—like the air had just spit him out. He was dressed in an identical uniform to the elongated monkey man and had a dour expression on his unshaven face. He motioned for Bram to hold his arms out “T” style and spread his legs. Then he frisked Bram and I had to admit it was pretty amusing, despite Bram’s tight-lipped expression, which showed little humor.
“Do you know where room B101 is located?” I asked the monkey man. Dia, great sleuth that she was, not only found out that Knight’s trial was public but also learned what room it was in. It was good to have friends high up on the ANC ladder.
The monkey creature nodded and pointed down the hallway. His hand had only three fingers, all of which were bright orange and knobby. “First door on your left,” it said in that robotic voice.
“Thanks,” I responded as I started for the hallway before remembering Bram. I glanced behind me and found him wearing the same vexed expression, now complete with furrowed brow, as he slipped his Rolex back on his wrist and immediately emptied the tray full of change back into his pocket.
“Stop screwing around, Bram,” I said with a smile, enjoying the fact that the overconfident vampire had to be bothered with security checks.
He joined me in the hallway and I took a deep breath as I faced Room 101B, realizing this was the moment of truth, the determinant of my next course of action�
��which could and most probably would change the direction of my life. I suddenly felt as if my heart had jumped into my throat and was lightheaded and dizzy again, my nerves frenzied.
“Are you feeling well?” Bram whispered as he placed his large hand on my shoulder. I glanced up at him and smiled in thanks. I paused for another few seconds and opened the door.
It wasn’t a huge room—maybe fifty feet by fifty feet, very plain with its off-white walls. There were about ten rows of wooden, fold-up chairs arranged in amphitheater style for the audience and of those chairs, only about half were occupied. I glanced to my immediate right and noticed the last row empty, so I slid into the second chair down. Some sort of enormous, gelatinously blobby creature sat directly in front of me, which suited my needs perfectly. I would be completely obscured behind it and, for that matter, so would half of Bram. Bram nodded his approval and slunk into the seat beside me. I didn’t pay much attention to the rest of the creatures because I was searching furiously for any sign of Knight.
He hadn’t yet arrived; and, as far as I could tell, neither had the judge.
As to the courtroom itself, it reminded me of the ANC courtrooms I was accustomed to. There were tables located on either side; I presumed for the defense and the prosecution. The judge’s box stood in the center of the room and there was a single row of fold-up chairs to the left of the judge for the jury, I guessed. The witness’ box was beside the judge’s stand and the court reporter (a troll) sat beside it.
The troll looked incredibly pissed off. That wasn’t too surprising because trolls, in general, are always pissed off. What did surprise me was the fact that a troll was the court reporter because they aren’t especially intelligent, as a rule, and their spelling is atrocious. This one, like most, was short and stocky with a bright red, bulbous nose, long stringy hair, beady eyes and skin that looked like someone had thrown pebbles into drying cement.
Instead of displaying the United States flag behind the judge’s box, there was a flag I’d never seen before. It was completely black, save a white line that ran the perimeter and four vertical lines that decorated the right side. Hmm, must have been the flag of the Netherworld, if I had to guess.
Only the disgruntled court reporter and two women who sat at the prosecution table on the left of the judge’s stand were in attendance. Both women’s backs were facing me so I couldn’t discern who they were or what role they played in all of this.
“Where are…” I leaned into Bram and started to ask about the whereabouts of Knight and the judge.
But I was stopped cold by the sight of a Chimera as it appeared in the doorway that opened into a hallway of holding cells. I’d never seen a Chimera before but I knew it immediately—mainly by its incredible size (it had to stoop over to fit through the doorway) and its three heads—those of a lion, a ram and a dragon. The Chimera’s body looked basically like an enormous goat with the tail of a dragon. Looking ridiculous, it was dressed in a blue and white uniform and, I could only guess, was acting as bailiff. It wore a nametag but unfortunately, I couldn’t read what it said.
The lion head opened its mouth and said in a deeply robust voice: “All rise for the honorable Judge Thorne.”
Everyone in the audience as well as the two women in the front of the room stood up so Bram and I followed suit. The troll stayed seated and just “harrumphed” unceremoniously.
My eyes were glued to the doorway as I watched a vampire saunter in, dressed in a floor-length red robe. He was incredibly handsome (I was beginning to realize all vampires were)—very tall and broad-chested with dark, wavy, brown hair and green eyes that dazzled in his face like gems. Before he took his seat, he glanced around the room, smiled at the women at the prosecution table and then whispered something to the Chimera. Something that was probably along the lines of: Where the hell is the defendant?
The Chimera seemed suddenly embarrassed, probably by the fact that it had forgotten to present the accused. Well, at least its lion and ram heads appeared embarrassed—the dragon head must’ve had ADD because it glanced around the room so repetitiously, it looked like it was doing an impersonation of Stevie Wonder. With a grunt, it disappeared down the hallway. A few minutes later, it re-emerged, one of its hooves dragging a long chain across the brown carpeting. I followed the links of the chain with my eyes, my heart in my throat, as I waited for it to reveal the accused and, when it did, I felt my heart stop for at least a few seconds.
Knight.
Yes, I could recognize him and yes, he was the same Knight I knew so well. But at the same time, he appeared different. It must’ve been due to the fact that I was seeing his true Loki Netherworld appearance. And in a word, he was… breathtaking.
Descended from the soldier race of the Netherworld, which was bred to protect, Knight was immense. He’d always struck me as a huge guy but this was beyond huge. He had to be over seven feet tall and was almost as broad as the creature seated in front of me. His hair was glossy black and the chiseled angles of his face seemed sharper somehow. He was stunning, absolutely stunning.
Once I’d gotten over my initial shock at Knight’s appearance, I was able to take in the rest of him. He was dressed in a two-piece, black, prisoner uniform, his hands cuffed and chained, as well as his feet. His hair was buzzed short and I glimpsed a huge gash on his right cheek that looked fresh. The other side of his face was marred by a black eye and split lip.
Anger boiled up within me and I felt my hands fisting in my lap. How dare they treat him this way! He was a high ranking ANC official! He didn’t deserve to be dressed in the garb of murderers and rapists and he most definitely didn’t deserve to be beaten. My breathing was coming in short spurts and it was all I could do to remain in my seat.
Luckily, Knight didn’t observe the audience because I really didn’t want him to notice Bram and me. Of course, we were seated so far back and obscured by the blob-like creature in front of us, that had Knight wanted to see the onlookers, he probably would never have spotted us.
I was relieved of my worry because Knight took no notice of the audience and, instead, faced the judge and there was no trace of subservience in his demeanor. He acknowledged the judge with a nod and allowed the Chimera to lead him to the empty table. The Chimera pulled out the chair as he yanked on Knight’s chains, forcing him down. Knight remained silent but glared at the ugly beast.
The judge took his place at the stand and announced to the Netherworld citizens: “Please be seated.” Everyone did as requested. “Following is a case regarding the Association of Netherworld Creatures versus Knightley Vander.”
I wondered why there didn’t appear to be anyone appointed to defend Knight and the twelve or so jury chairs had remained empty. How could this be fair in any way? How could there be a prosecution with no defense? It seemed like the case was already doomed.
My thoughts were interrupted when one of the women seated at the prosecution table stood up and faced the judge. She was very pretty and rather tall for a woman, probably about five foot ten. She had extremely thick, long, red hair with black lowlights that fell below her shoulders. She was dressed in a purple and black suit that contrasted with her blue eyes. In her hands, she held a piece of paper.
“Very good, Ms. Fields-Gerrity,” the judge said with a smile, encouraging her to proceed.
The woman, who seemed to be in her middle twenties, had the definite aura of a witch. She turned to face the assembly and, in a nervous voice, read out: “The Association of Netherworld Creatures charges that on or about March 5, 2011 in the earth’s realm of California, in the District of Splendor, the defendant, Knightley Vander, who was representing the Association of Netherworld Creatures Splendor, did fail to take into custody Quillan Beaurigard, despite ample opportunity. This is in violation of Article 23, Netherworld Code, Section 34456.”
When she finished reading the formal indictment against Knight, she smiled prettily at the audience and the judge before retaking her seat. The judge nodded and addressed
the woman beside Ms. Fields-Gerrity.
“Ms. Brandenburg,” he said, eyeing her hungrily. The woman stood up, frowning at the vampire judge, in a tacit announcement that she didn’t approve of his lascivious glances where she was concerned.
“Your honor,” she said with tight-lipped reserve.
“Have you anything to say in defense of the accused?” the judge asked as he leered at her figure from head to toe.
The woman faced Knight and offered him a kind smile that seemed mired in pity. She turned to the spectators and I realized how attractive she was. She was a shape shifter; I could feel it in my gut. It took me a few more seconds to discern that she could shift into a cheetah. Once I knew that, I could see the proof in her face—cat’s eyes and high cheekbones. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties and tall, though not as tall as Ms. Fields-Gerrity who, judging from the context, might have been her assistant or coworker. Ms. Brandenburg was probably about five foot eight with long, brown, wavy hair, diffused with blonde highlights. Her eyes were nearly the same shade of blue as Ms. Fields-Gerrity’s. She wore a brown two-piece suit that hugged her lithe frame and visibly appealed to the judge.
“As my assistant mentioned,” she began and I gave myself silent kudos for figuring out the nature of their acquaintance. “Mr. Vander is charged with failing to apprehend Quillan Beaurigard.”
“I believe this case is fairly straightforward?” the judge asked and when she nodded, he continued. “In fact, the accused has already pled guilty and yet you still demand a hearing, Caressa?”
I was surprised when he called her by her first name. Such familiarity, but, when in the Netherworld… I guess. I saw Caressa tighten her lips, making it more apparent than ever that she didn’t like the judge. With the way she was glaring at him, I daresay she couldn’t stand him.
“Yes, that is so,” she started. “And though the accused has confessed, I believe there is more to this case than meets the eye.”
“How so?” the judge asked in a bored tone.
Great Hexpectations, A Paranormal Romance / Urban Fantasy (Dulcie O'Neil Series #3) Page 14
