All Together Dead

bustier with black ruffles and a black taffeta skirt, also ruffled. Her bustier didn’t have much bust to fill it. She was clutching a handheld computer game. “Goodtoseeya,” she said, and I made the effort of smiling at her. She returned her attention to the computer game.
    “What will happen to us if Sophie-Anne is found guilty?” Cleo asked, and we all fell silent.
    What would happen to us if Sophie-Anne were convicted? With Louisiana in a weakened position, with the scandal surrounding Peter’s death, we were all at risk.
    I don’t know why I hadn’t thought this through, but I hadn’t.
    In a moment, I understood that I hadn’t even thought about worrying because I’d grown up a free United States human citizen; I wasn’t used to worrying about my fate being in question. Bill had joined the little group surrounding the queen, and as I peered across the room at them, he knelt, along with Eric and Pam. Andre leaped up from his seat to my left, and in one of his lightning moves he crossed the room to kneel with them. The queen stood before them like a Roman goddess accepting tribute. Cleo followed my gaze, and her shoulder twitched. Cleo wasn’t going to go do any kneeling.
    “Who’s on the council?” I asked the dark-haired vamp, and she nodded to the group of five vampires seated right before the low stage, facing the Ancient Pythoness.
    “The King of Kentucky, the Queen of Iowa, the King of Wisconsin, the King of Missouri, the Queen of Alabama,” she said, pointing to them in order. The only one I’d met was Kentucky, though I recognized the sultry Alabama from her conversation with Sophie-Anne.
    The lawyer for the other side joined Johan Glassport on the stage. Something about the Arkansans’ lawyer reminded me of Mr. Cataliades, and when he nodded in our direction, I saw Mr. Cataliades nod back.
    “They related?” I asked Cleo.
    “Brothers-in-law,” Cleo said, leaving me to imagine what a female demon would look like. Surely they didn’t all look like Diantha.
    Quinn leaped up on the stage. He was wearing a gray suit, white shirt, and tie, and he carried a long staff covered with carvings. He beckoned to Isaiah, King of Kentucky, who floated onto the stage. With a flourish, Quinn handed the staff to Kentucky, who was dressed much more stylishly than he had been earlier. The vampire thudded the staff against the floor, and all conversation ceased. Quinn retreated to the back of the stage.
    “I am the elected master-at-arms of this judicial session,” Kentucky announced in a voice that carried easily to the corners of the room. He held the staff up so it could not be ignored. “Following the traditions of the vampire race, I call you all to witness the trial of Sophie-Anne Leclerq, Queen of Louisiana, on the charge that she murdered her signed and sealed spouse, Peter Threadgill, King of Arkansas.”
    It sounded very solemn, in Kentucky’s deep, drawling voice.
    “I call the lawyers for the two parties to be ready to present their cases.”
    “I am ready,” said the part-demon lawyer. “I am Simon Maimonides, and I represent the bereaved state of Arkansas.”
    “I am ready,” said our murderous lawyer, reading from a pamphlet. “I am Johan Glassport, and I represent the bereaved widow, Sophie-Anne Leclerq, falsely charged with the murder of her signed and sealed spouse.”
    “Ancient Pythoness, are you ready to hear the case?” Kentucky asked, and the crone turned her head toward him.
    “Is she blind?” I whispered.
    Cleo nodded. “From birth,” she said.
    “How come she’s the judge?” I asked. But the glares of the vampires around us reminded me that their hearing hardly made whispering worthwhile, and it was only polite to shut up.
    “Yes,” said the Ancient Pythoness. “I am ready to hear the case.” She had a very heavy accent that I couldn’t begin to identify. There was a stirring of anticipation in the crowd.
    Okay. Let the games begin.
    Bill, Eric, and Pam went to stand against the wall, while Andre sat by me.
    King Isaiah did a little staff-pounding again. “Let the accused be brought forth,” he said with no small amount of drama.
    Sophie-Anne, looking very delicate, walked up to the stage, escorted by two guards. Like the rest of us, she’d gotten ready for the ball, and she was wearing purple. I wondered if the royal color had been a coincidence. Probably not. I had a feeling Sophie-Anne arranged her own coincidences.
    The dress was high-collared