When Ari didn’t get a call from Ryan the next morning, she figured he was still in a funk. No biggie. She had plenty to do.
Finishing the written reports consumed most of her day. This was one part of the job Ari could live without, especially this week. The Magic Council required each Guardian to provide a written report whenever an Otherworlder in that district killed someone, especially humans, or was the victim of human violence. There had been five such deaths and the still unsolved Goshen Park attack in the past eleven days. Although two of the deaths occurred in Martin’s territory, the suspect resided in Olde Town. Ari had the unhappy task of facing an inquiry on every incident.
Her hardest report was explaining the stabbing death at the Second Chance Saloon. It shouldn’t have happened, wouldn’t have, if the vamp had been the least bit rational. He had plenty of time to avoid the blade. The vampire, now identified as Lawrence, didn’t have the history or reputation of a troublemaker. And although Ari was convinced Lawrence had been affected by Fantasy, she had no proof. Some of the Council members would want more than a written report. Based on Andreas’s reaction, she expected Lucien, the vampire representative, would be especially difficult.
She made the reports as detailed as possible, and it was mid-afternoon when she delivered the documents to the Council’s clerk. He went away shaking his head, dismayed either by the size of the reports or the lateness of the hour. Whatever his concern, Ari knew each member would receive copies before the day was over. The Council would have plenty of time to read them prior to the weekly Friday meeting.
Finished with desk duty, she turned her thoughts back to the Canadian wolves. Talking to them became more urgent by the moment. While she worried that Andreas’s continued silence meant he’d withdrawn his pledge to help, she wasn’t ready to give up. She’d figured out how her original plan could work. If she waited outside the bar until the she-wolf left, then any discussion with her or arrest would not involve the club. To set it up, she still needed to talk with Andreas. So Ari decided to take the initiative. He sang at the club on Thursday nights. If she was standing in front of him, it would be hard for him to ignore her.
She called Claris and Brando. After a lot of fast-talking on her part, they agreed to join her for dinner. She suspected Claris gave in because she was afraid Ari would go alone if she didn’t.
* * *
Ari paid special attention to her attire. Green silk blouse to match her eyes, long black skirt with a slit to the knee, and spike heels. Not her usual jeans and casual top.
Brando started laughing when he saw her. “So there is a woman inside those jeans,” he said. “And you don’t intend to play fair with this guy. I see the plan.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s a supper club. Isn’t this appropriate?”
Ari’s escapades had involved, and amused, Brando for as long as she could remember. He’d played Little John to her Robin Hood, always game for the next adventure. But Brando’s square, open face, carefree laugh, and jovial demeanor concealed a very serious side. Born into a family notable for its powerful wizards, Brando had dedicated most of his life to science. He’d written technical journals with titles Ari couldn’t pronounce. Tonight, however, he was that childhood sidekick again, prepared to be entertained, and his brown eyes twinkled as he escorted his companions through the entrance of Club Dintero.
Right away Ari noticed the visible security guard next to the door, a change from the night she interviewed Victor.
“Arms up, please,” the doorman intoned as the guard stepped forward and produced a security wand.
Ari’s eyes widened. At a supper club? What was the deal? She shook her head and stepped back, digging out her ID. Claris shook her head at her friend’s refusal. At least she was in a better mood, Ari thought. Claris and Brando followed instructions without protest. Just another unique experience to them.
When Ari produced the ID, the doorman scrutinized it with care before handing it back. “Guardian,” he acknowledged, his tone flat, impersonal. She felt a tension from him that hadn’t been there before. Maybe he didn’t like cops. Or maybe he remembered her first visit.
Once a hostess seated them, Ari turned her focus to the stage. The comedy duo drew friendly laughter, a good warm-up act. She expected Andreas to take the stage soon and looked forward to hearing him sing. Her plan was to snag him during a break.
When the comedy team continued through appetizers, entrées and even after-dinner drinks, it was clear Andreas wouldn’t show. Adding his absence to the increased scrutiny at the door, Ari started asking questions. When the waiter said he didn’t know why Andreas wasn’t singing, she was more curious than before. She watched for Victor. Finally seeing him across the room, she caught his eye and motioned him over.
Victor gave Ari a blank face when she asked about Andreas and delivered a canned speech he must have used all night. “I apologize for the inconvenience,” he said, “Andreas was unexpectedly called away. If you return next week, I’m sure you will not be disappointed again.”
“I noticed the security. Has something happened? Where’d he go?”
Victor’s bland face hardened. “I believe it was personal. Now if you’ll excuse me?” He gave their table a too-polite smile and walked away.
Well, fine. She’d just been told it was none of her business. Fair enough. But nothing could have piqued her interest more.
“He’s Mr. Personality, isn’t he?” Claris laughed softly.
Ari didn’t care how Victor behaved, except she knew he was lying. An absent star performer. The security. The tension. She didn’t need witch senses to recognize trouble.
“Now what was that about?” she mused. “Andreas is tight with the vampire leader, Prince Daron. I wonder if there’s a problem at the court.”
“Vampire politics,” Brando offered. “I understand theirs are even messier than ours.”
Ari smiled, allowing Brando to distract her. His comment led to jokes about the latest foibles in Riverdale city politics. Speculation about the vampires was dropped, and after another drink, they ended the evening early.
As they left, Ari watched for Victor again. She still wanted to ask him about Angela and the drugs. He wasn’t around, but two additional security guards had been added to the front entry. Her witch senses stirred. Not just trouble, something really bad had happened, and Andreas was right in the middle of it. Ari wished she knew what
it
was.
The night ended on another down turn. A small white envelope had been slipped under her apartment door during the evening. Ari knew what it was before she opened it. An official summons to appear before tomorrow’s meeting of the Magic Council.
Chapter Thirteen
Heads swiveled in her direction as Ari walked into the Magic Hall. The forty members of the Otherworld governing council, dressed in suits or other formal attire consistent with their race and gender, sat in three rows of raised seats, forming a semi-circle facing the massive south doors. The first row held the representatives of five of the six major magic races: sorcerers (including the witch clans), vampires, lycanthropes, elves, and nymphs. Demons, considered the sixth race, were not represented. There were no treaties with the devil’s offspring.
In front of and facing the arranged seats stood a small podium, and behind that a glossy dark wood conference table which currently had two chairs. Ari was surprised to see Martin occupied one of them. Even though the fight at the Were Fest had occurred in his part of the city, the combatants had been vampires, Ari’s problem. Martin nodded as she took the other seat.
Both Guardians were dressed in traditional white uniforms. No jewelry or accessories. Although rarely worn outside these halls, the uniforms were required for Council appearances. Ari smoothed her skirt a couple of times and waited.
The Magic Hall, unlike the modern offices and cultural center attached, was built of stone along grand lines. Its style was copied from 13th century cathedrals with statuary and elaborate adornments, many depicting magical events in history. It was a reminder of continuity. Ari usually enjoyed looking around, but this morning her thoughts were on the pending inquiry.
The gavel came down. The Council president called the meeting to order and asked Martin to approach the podium. Ari tried hard not to fidget.
Her counterpart was a lean elf of indeterminate age. Martin looked more like a philosopher than a keeper of the peace. The impression was deceiving. Like most of his race, Martin was strong and agile, highly skilled in martial arts. Ari had been content with a tie the one time they had sparred.
Martin’s voice remained firm and confident as he gave his report, detailing the events from the Were Fest. He concluded with the good recovery of the weretiger injured at the Second Chance Saloon. The representatives sat quietly throughout his presentation, but Martin was just the warm up. Most of the Council’s time had been reserved for Ari.
It was a rocky start. She’d barely reached the podium before Lucien, the vampire representative, began grilling her about the sufficiency of her guardian training. His clipped tone and manner put her on edge.
She assured him her instructors, including Yana, had been excellent. She could have elaborated, reciting her skills and abilities, but court protocol dictated brevity unless invited to continue by the questioner. Lucien scoffed at her conclusion, leading her through a recitation of various rules and mandates.
Ten minutes later, a broad smile stole across his face. “Excellent, Ms. Calin. I am surprised and delighted with the extent of your knowledge. Most admirable. So, you would agree that your primary mandate is to preserve and protect the magical races?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then can you explain why you chose to terminate a vampire named Lawrence? And,” Lucien held up a hand when she started to speak, “let me finish, Ms. Calin. And why you allowed an overpowering police force to gun down another vampire, known as Christopher?” He stopped, his eyes flashing with scorn. “Now you may answer, if you can. “
“The details are in my reports, sir, but basically both vampires were dangerously out of control when I arrived.”
“I’ve read these pieces of fiction you call your reports,” Lucien cut in. He rustled noisily through the pages. “I find nothing that explains your appalling actions. You would have us believe Lawrence killed himself, throwing his body on your knife,” he scoffed. “And not one word tells me why you did not diffuse the situation by negotiation or, if necessary, taking the two men into custody. For their own protection, if nothing else.”
The white-bearded Council president interrupted with his usual unruffled, unhurried manner. “Lucien, you must ask her a question, not make a speech.”
“Yes, Mr. President. Ms. Calin, how do you feel about vampires?”
The question caught her off guard. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s a simple question. Do you like them?”
“I don’t dislike them.” Ari’s answer was honest. When she heard it out loud, it sounded evasive.
Lucien heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Let me make this easy for you. Do you have vampire friends?”
Andreas’s angry face flashed through her head. Rita’s mulish pout. Victor calling her a bitch. “Not really. But I don’t have close friends in many of the races I protect,” she continued before he could cut her off. “It’s a matter of duty, not friendship.”
Lucien frowned at the uninvited explanation. “Answer the question only, Guardian. We don’t need a soliloquy.” He rustled through her reports again. “Didn’t you, in fact, take the easy way out? The option that was popular with your human friends?”
“There was no easy way. In fact, there was no choice. Christopher had already killed that night. Lawrence nearly killed the weretiger. They were out of control, no longer acting rationally. Whether that was drugs or something else, I can’t be sure. But I know what I saw.”
Lucien leaned over his table and stared down at her. “If you must continue with these long, unresponsive statements, at least admit this is only your opinion. Are you aware that no vampires have come forward to support your claim?”
“No, but there were lots of other witnesses. A whole parking lot of them that could give you the facts.”
“Humans?” Lucien nearly spat the word. “Apparently you value their word above that of the vampires. Perhaps they are also more worthy of your protection.”
“That’s not true,” Ari snapped, unable to hold back any longer. “I would have saved the vampires if I could!”
The hall grew silent at her outburst.
Lucien sat back and smirked. “This Guardian is not only unfit for her position but disrespectful of the Council. Perhaps her services are no longer needed.”
“Lucien,” the president said patiently, “If you have no more questions for Ms. Calin, I think we should move forward. The elves have the floor.”
Ari wanted to continue arguing with Lucien, deny his accusations, but she’d already pushed beyond the limits of court protocol. Further infractions might only serve to prove the vampire’s point. And he wasn’t going to listen. No more than Andreas the night it happened.
Ari relaxed her clenched fingers and turned her attention to the elf’s questions.
To her relief, the rest of the members were more understanding and less accusatory about the vampire deaths. What alarmed most of the Council were the potential dangers from Fantasy, the unknown source of its alteration, and the part played in these events by the Canadian werewolves. Steffan, of course, was a staunch ally throughout the proceedings.
After more than an hour of questioning, Ari was excused to wait for the Council’s decision. An attendant escorted her to the vestibule of the Magic Hall, just outside the thick arched doors. Now they would deliberate.
Expelling her pent-up tension on a long breath, Ari sank onto one of two stone benches. It wasn’t unusual for Lucien to be antagonistic. He had that kind of personality. But today had been over the top even for him. Ari was still steaming over his accusations when Steffan slipped out of the Council room.