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me here, but on the low end that was fifty-plus kids for this one incubus alone.

All the supernaturals in the room watched me try to do mental math and laughed. This was only news to me, but it was one hell of a bombshell. More so than Dani’s TV habits.

It was nothing compared to what walked through the door two minutes later. Lilith had retaken her chair and was engaged in a private conversation with Aden when they both went silent. Aden moved toward the door, and Lilith lined up in front of me with Xander and Xamira flanking her. They formed a wall of supernatural flesh, so I had trouble seeing who walked through the door.

“Um . . . hello,” I recognized the voice. It was one of Aveena’s changelings. “I’m supposed to deliver this to . . .”

“Thank you,” Aden snatched something from the kid and handed it back to Lilith.

There was a scraping sound as she opened whatever was delivered. Followed by several moments of silence. “Lady Foxbelle has called a trial under the covenants,” she stated, and turned to hand a formal looking envelope to me.

“Trial?” I took it, but it was written in gibberish. Since I considered myself a language virtuoso, not having any idea what it meant was extra frustrating.

“You’re being accused of murder,” she deadpanned, and another wave of lightheadedness threatened to overwhelm me.

“M . . . murder,” I barely got out as my head hit the pillow.

“We will attend the trial,” Aden answered for me and Lilith. “It will commence in one week’s time. Convey that to your Lady. We will get in touch with her and establish a neutral, third-party location to hold the proceedings.”

Faced with an adult supernatural the changeling didn’t know, he simply bowed and left to convey the reply to Aveena.

“This is what I thought was going to happen,” Lilith sighed, and sat down heavily in the chair. “She has standing to bring the charges.”

“Standing!” I erupted; the exhaustion gone like it never existed. “That crazy bitch tried to kill me. It was all self-defense.”

“You’re a mortal who killed a Fae. We need to prove your innocence,” she replied.

“Innocence! What happened to innocent until proven guilty?” I ranted.

“You’re being prosecuted under Fae law,” Aden answered. “When a noble charges you, you need to prove your innocence. Not the other way around.”

“That’s fucked up,” I growled, but none of the other supernaturals in the room said anything.

“We’ve got a defense,” Lilith spoke to Aden. “We can gather our evidence and present it. If Cam violated the covenants, then Aveena did as well.”

“This should be interesting,” Aden rubbed his chin in thought. “It seems I’m in the right place at the right time.”

“What is happening?” I yelled, desperately trying to get their attention.

“Don’t worry, Cam, we’ve got this,” Lilith patted my hand, and left with Aden.

Xander took up his guard position outside, and Xamira sat in the chair Lilith had vacated.

“Rest up,” she recommended. “It’s going to be a long week.”

Chapter 19

Vernon stormed into the Director’s office with an attitude and a head full of bad ideas. After he’d hung up with Wood, he called and reported in. Directly from the warehouse, he’d caught a cab to the airport. The cabbie looked a little green around the gills when a man covered in blood got in his backseat, but a badge could work wonders. The cabbie dropped him off at the small airport’s executive lounge.

He showered, and made sure to scrape off the blood underneath his fingernails. When he shifted back, the blood from his claws came with him, and that was something you didn’t want to let sit. With a fresh change of clothes from his go-bag, he went to the ticket counter. He expected a one-way trip to Syracuse. What he got was a confused expression, an apology, and a commercial ticket back to New York City. The whole flight back, the Director had refused to take his calls.

He spent the flight, and the cab ride from JFK, working himself up. He stomped through the UN HQ’s lobby, completely ignored the secretary desperately trying to stop him, and barged into the corner office like a werewolf on a mission.

“It’s fine,” his boss waved the irate secretary away. “Please, Agent Dud, come in and sit down.” Even through his anger, he heard the sarcasm.

“Why the hell am I here and not at St. Vincent’s?” he opened fire. “Dupree was attacked by a Fae. A fucking Fae. If this is an opening salvo, we need to know what’s going on. We need to know their plans, and we need to know why the hell Cameron Dupree is so gods’ damned important?” he huffed, and he puffed, and he would have blown the place down if it wasn’t reinforced by bulletproof glass enchanted to take a tank’s HEAT round without cracking.

The Director took his tirade in stride without showing an ounce of emotion, and then hit him with a one-two punch. “I agree,” she said calmly; scoring her first hit. “But we can’t do anything yet.” The second body blow took some of the wind out of his sails, and he collapsed heavily into one of the chairs.

“Why not?”

“First off, we immediately got a legal challenge to the deep dive on Mr. Dupree’s gene scan,” she explained. “The named partner in one of the city’s most prestigious law firms walked into this office himself with a cease and desist order. The Venetian’s are aware of what we’re up to, and they’re stalling for time.”

“Cabals,” the word was a curse to people like him.

“Second, you’re too close to this.” This time, he was sure she wasn’t referring to him doing the horizontal tango with Wood. “You investigated the initial case, and if you go back up there, Dupree’s lawyers

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