Hexed

took place, I promise you I will investigate until I root out the problem. I must reiterate, though, that how she got here is not what you’re here to consider. It is her actions after that you are bound by law to judge.”
    “We are well aware of our duty.”
    The Elder’s voice is even more grating than usual, as if he’s forcing the words through those yellow rotted teeth. I’d say he’s displeased. Which pleases me. I shoot Samual a look.
    I’m not the only one in trouble.
    Samual addresses the Elder. “I ask for a recess. To find out how such an error could have been made. My resources were obviously guessing when they put forth their theory that the beast had been invoked. I will get to the bottom of this, I vow.”
    “We are confident that you will.”
    Smooth. Oily. Even I hear the threat behind the words.

FOURTEEN
     

     
    FOR THE FIRST TIME, I FEEL LIKE SMILING. Really smiling. Samual’s expression is downright anxious. Does my heart good.
    Stephen and I are transported back to our holding cell without warning or explanation. Not that either is needed. It’s obvious the tribunal has had its focus shifted from me to Samual. It may be a temporary shift, but I’ll take it.
    Stephen is grinning and shaking his head. “I was worried there for a minute. You don’t always think before speaking, do you?”
    “You mean when I called the judges evil?”
    “Not the best choice of words. Those things take themselves seriously.”
    “So do I. But I don’t intend to let them walk all over me. They are arrogant bastards. I wonder if they’ve ever been challenged before?”
    The dining room has been replaced with a sitting room—couch, chairs, coffee table. On the coffee table a fan of magazines invites perusing. I pick up the top one, the newest People magazine.
    “Well, at least they’re current.” I toss it back on the pile.
    “How long do you think we’ll have to wait?” Stephen asks.
    I plop myself down on the couch. “I have no idea. May as well make ourselves comfortable.”
    He takes a chair across from me. I hope the flush of disappointment that he chose to sit there instead of beside me doesn’t show on my face.
    Jesus. There it is again. What is happening to me?
    I clear my throat. “So. I told you my story. Want to tell me yours?”
    Stephen waves a hand. “Not after hearing your story. Mine is downright dull.”
    “Manhattan on 9/11? War correspondent? I hardly call those things dull.”
    “Anna, I won’t say the things I’ve experienced haven’t impacted me. But I’m still basically the same man I was before I became a reporter. You, on the other hand, had your entire reality altered. I’m amazed at your courage.”
    “Courage? If you mean the courage to continue living, what choice do I have? I don’t want to die any more than the next person does.”
    “It’s not just choosing to live—it’s choosing to live the way you do. With regard for the mortal world. On Earth, you could be the way these creatures are here—all-powerful.”
    “And we see how that’s worked out for them, haven’t we?” I blow out a breath. “I’ve also seen what power does to vampires who feel they’re above the mortals they depend on for sustenance. The old ones forget what it’s like to be human. They see humans as merely a food source. They forget that it’s mortals who create and that we vampires merely consume. Destroy the human spirit and the world they love would fall into ruin.”
    Stephen’s expression is so intent it makes me roll my eyes. “Shit. I really sound like a pretentious idiot, don’t I? The vampire philosopher. I can’t believe you’re not laughing your ass off.”
    Stephen’s expression darkens. “Don’t do that. Don’t hide your feelings behind sarcasm. You spoke from your heart. That’s never wrong—or easy. I’m glad you feel you can open up with me.”
    Open up? I wish these couch cushions would open up and swallow me. Being stripped of my vampiric powers must be affecting my brain. Subjecting me to human emotions I’ve kept buried the last year. Why is he so damned easy to talk to?
    Am I that hungry for human contact? The part of my brain still working sounds the alarm. Relationships with mortals have not worked out so well for me in the past.
    Stephen’s eyes bore into me like a laser. Not very subtle. He’s trying to assess what he sees on my face and hears in my voice. I don’t think he’s buying my theory that Samual may be behind how