Courts and Cabals by G.S. D'Moore (best e reader for academics txt) 📕

human or supernatural, there was always someone willing to break the law. Creatures of all shapes and sizes did home births without any medical supervision, didn’t fill out paperwork at hospitals, or found clinics sympathetic to their cause.

The enforcement bureau had an office in every country to look into instances of noncompliance. They frequently partnered with police forces of the federal, state, province, or whatever a nation called their subdistricts. These UN agents worked with their host countries to keep the peace and enforce the more stringent portions of the WRA. They had arrest, deportation, and extradition powers. Some people called the whole thing oppressive, totalitarian, and fascist. Other’s just called it business as usual.

Despite how much people hated it, that was my life plan; even though I was never going to tell anyone. I was going to join the WRA enforcement division. I wasn’t doing it out of any sense of loyalty, or even because I believed in the cause. Far from it. I was doing it because it paid well, and it put me in a position of power. Power was something I didn’t have a lot of, but my language skills and connections built at St. Vincent’s made me the perfect candidate. The recruiters might have to look past my overall GPA, but I could be pretty persuasive. A 3.0 wasn’t that bad.

“After the WRA, we moved into the end of the Cold War, the silent coup of the Russian oligarchy, and the rise of international terrorism,” I continued, winding down my explanation. “We just reviewed what could have happened if the 9/11 attacks succeeded. Instead, the hijacked planes shattered against the World Trade Center’s wards. That was yesterday’s class, so I’m assuming that’s where the cutoff for midterm preparation is,” I finished.

I should have stopped there. It was a solid recap, but I just couldn’t help myself. “There might be more, but the way Sally’s head comes to a point in the back is just so damn sexy. I just can’t concentrate some days.”

That got the reaction I wanted. Miller about had an aneurism as a purple vein throbbed in his forehead. Several classmates – mostly girls – inhaled at the horror of my comment, while a bunch of guys chuckled; one going as far to laugh heartily at my comic genius.

Sally didn’t find it funny. She whipped around with pure rage in her eyes. Eyes that slowly began to sink into her head. Her salon-tanned skin paled several shades to a deathly pallor. Her perfectly-manicured fingers slowly extended. The colorful pink nail polish turned a sickly yellow as the nails stretched and morphed into serrated claws. Her dyed-blonde hair started to grow, tangle, and shifted to the gray-white of an old-crone. Her chocolate-colored eyes fixated on me as they shifted to a reptilian yellow, complete with the vertical slit of a snake. I half expected a forked tongue to lash out and taste the air, but I knew she didn’t have one.

Sally McDougal, in addition to being the granddaughter of the current UN ambassador from Ireland, was a banshee. She hadn’t been alive during the Revelation, no one in the room had, but she was the descendent of one of the creatures that came forward during that date thirty-five years ago.

On the Emerald Isle, banshees were spirits that heralded the impending death of a family member through a terrible wail. In the decades since the Revelation, the myth had been explained. A banshee’s wail didn’t necessarily mean someone close to you was going to die. However, it was a potent sonic attack. Many people over the centuries had suffered heart attacks, strokes, or aneurisms when faced with a banshee’s wail. So, as with most things over time, the myth of the banshee’s wail was born.

As with most things humanity learned after the Revelation, the truth of the banshee extended way beyond the cultural myth of a single people. First off, not all banshees were women, and their legend blended with other folklore throughout Europe where they were known by other names and deeds. Most prominently, they were also known as the boogeyman; or boogey-people if you wanted to be politically correct about it. Parents throughout Europe told their children stories of the boogie to frighten them into doing what they were told. Legend said boogies would steal the children away if they misbehaved. Those myths were prevalent throughout every country in the world. While there were some confirmed cases of banshee/boogies stealing children, it was far less than the number of humans who stole children; so that myth was quickly dispelled.

Perhaps the most frightening discovery, or most interesting depending on how you looked at it, was what scientists found out after the Revelation. Through the WRA, voluntary, and sometimes involuntary study, humans soon realized that several of these creatures of legend and myth fed on people. There were plenty of species that physically fed on the flesh of humans, but banshee/boogies weren’t in that group.

“Or is it kingdom?  . . . phylum?” I was never sure which one it was. I hated science.

Sally McDougal, and others like her, fed on the fear people radiated. It was a luxurious delicacy to her people. It was something they did frequently in the old days, but now kept to an absolute minimum for ethical and PR purposes. As the Irish ambassador’s granddaughter, the eyes of the world were on her family. They were attempting to bring leprechaun gold into the world market, and fighting to establish Dublin as a European economic capital. With fame and fortune came scrutiny, and she was always being watched. I knew this, which was why I just smiled as she revealed her true form to me.

I was suddenly face-to-face with an ugly ass bitch whose scream would make my ears bleed. Still, I didn’t show a trace of fear because I knew that’s exactly what she wanted.

“Ms. McDougal!” Miller’s