“Indeed.” Viv’s dark eyes flashed, her posture going ramrod straight. She blinked several times. The silence increased until the heavy weight threatened to suffocate them. Without moving a muscle, she glanced at Grace, who slowly shook her head.
Nope. Moira’s memory clicked through every coven canon of law ... dealings with humans were public. If Conn hadn’t been invited into the Nine’s private headquarters, they could’ve pled secrecy as to the location. But Viv had personally invited the liaison to the Realm, and thus the choice to go or stay sat squarely in his hands.
The prisoner spit blood on the floor. “Of course I’m human, you fucking freaks—”
His voice cut off with a flick of Viv’s wrist. He grabbed his neck with both hands, his bloodshot eyes bugging out.
Viv attempted to stare Conn down, her jaw clenched, promising retribution. “Well, Prince. Since this man is human, we have no legal reason to request your removal. Yet, as a courtesy, I am asking you to leave while we handle our private business.”
Nicely done. Moira had learned early on the power of diplomacy when employed correctly. Viv was a master. Conn had to leave.
“I appreciate the courtesy ... and truly regret my refusal.” Conn took one step forward, his voice echoing from the solid walls. “With all due respect, I choose to remain here.”
Son of a bitch. He knew. Moira stiffened. The man knew they were considering withdrawing from the Realm. Yet he’d fought the veil ... and revealed his powers. The Kayrs had just made a move. Her head swiveled in slow motion to take him in. He’d landed on her continent as a strategic move ... nothing more. The sharp pain to her heart surprised her. Something to worry about later.
She shook her head. The man had already tipped his hand. He may understand some of their power, but he didn’t need to see any more. If he learned anything more, he wouldn’t be safe regardless of whether or not their people remained at peace with each other. “Conn.” She kept her voice to a soft whisper. “You need to leave.”
“No.” If fate ever held sound, the tenor resonated in his absolute refusal.
Absolute quiet descended upon the occupants of the massive chamber. Up front, Viv pressed her hands together. “Very well. Connlan Kayrs has chosen to stay and witness the business of the Coven Nine.” Her voice implied he’d signed his own death order. She stared through the screen at the man on his knees. “Thomas Willoby. Confess your crimes.”
“I ain’t done nuthin’ wrong.” Willoby shrugged the guard’s hand off his shoulder. “What are you people? Some crazy devil worshippers?”
Dark amusement lifted Viv’s lips. “No. Nice try, though.” She reached for a thick manila file, flipping the top open. “Mary Johnson. Betty Maloney. June Frank.” Her chin lifted. “Those names mean anything to you?”
“Um, er, no. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
While he was miles away, Moira could almost smell the stench of fear cascading around him.
“Oh, I think you do.” Viv slammed a fist down on the folder. The man on the floor jumped. Dark energy swam along her skin, her eyes morphing all the way to midnight. “You like hurting women, now don’t you, Thomas?”
“No, I ... God. What are you?” Willoby’s voice trembled. Sweat coated the front of his shirt.
“God won’t help you now.” Viv smiled, the sight more frightening than a Halloween ghoul. “See, usually when we find someone like you, we turn them over to the human authorities. Well, we make sure the humans find the trail. But you ... well, you’re special.”
“No, I’m not. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
Once again his voice cut off and he grabbed his neck. Viv hadn’t even needed to flick her wrist. She had his frequency.
Moira’s stomach sank. Conn shouldn’t see this. He shouldn’t know what they could do ... what she could do. Viv had cut off the guy’s air supply without blinking an eyelash. It was just the beginning.
Viv grabbed a wooden gavel. “You’re a rapist, aren’t you, Thomas?”
“No, I er—” Willoby choked, his shoulders shuddering. Then he gasped in air. “Yes.” He began to sob. “I’m sorry. I need help.”
Viv nodded slowly. “I’m here to help you.”
“Thank you.” He bowed his head.
“June Frank is one of ours, Thomas. She’s mated to one of my people.” Viv paled. “You hurt her.”
“I’m sorry.” His shoulders shook with the force of his sobs. “I’ll find help and won’t hurt anyone else. I promise.”
“Good to know.” Viv raised her hands high in the air. “So you confess to the rape of the women I’ve mentioned?”
“Yes.”
“Name the others. So we can find them help.”
Blubbering, pausing to sniff, he recited a list of names that made Moira’s knees weaken. So many names.
Finally, he stopped. “That’s all.”
“Thank you for your confession,” Viv said quietly. She waited until Willoby lifted his head, snorting loudly. Then she held out her hands. “Good-bye.”
Willoby half rose on his knees, an unholy screech shooting from him and bouncing through the screen. His body convulsed. Black tar cascaded out of his ears, running down his bare neck.
Conn growled low, shifting to the side, planting his body between Vivienne and Moira.
Willoby lurched forward, rolling to his back and convulsing like a fish thrown from a bowl. Thick, black ink poured from his nostrils, eyes, and wide-open mouth. A toxic film of mist wafted from him.
Moira sucked down bile, fighting the need to turn away. Conn pivoted to face her. His broad shoulders blocked her view of the dead man and the Coven Nine. The pupils in his eyes contracted, allowing the deep green to darken. An unrelenting question lived in their depths bordering on a hard warning. A statement with no words.
She lifted her chin.
He held her gaze as the soldiers dragged Willoby out of the faraway room, leaving a trail of oozing black in the body’s wake. Gracefully, too quickly to track, Conn pivoted to face the council.
Moira slid forward to stand on even ground with him. She was the last person who needed to be shielded. Cutting her eyes to the side, she viewed her mate. Gone was the alert anger, the dark warning. He faced the council, a polite smile on his lips, his eyes betraying nothing. If anything, the man looked bored.
Viv pounded with the gavel. “I apologize for that nasty business.” The screen went black, returning to stone. “Let’s officially call the meeting of the Council of the Coven Nine to order.”
Grace tapped the keyboard again. Individual screens rose from the floor to cover the same wall. Simone instantly filled one, the screen casting a slight green tinge to her pale skin and yet somehow enhancing her deep black eyes. She’d pulled her dark curls away from her face, highlighting a worried frown.
The second screen sputtered, and slowly a thin male form took shape. Trevan nodded, his intelligent eyes sparkling with concern.
Viv nodded. “Good. We found you. All right. The meeting is now called to order. First item on the agenda is our missing members.”
Simone stepped closer to the camera. “We’ve lost four council members within the last year, Mother. Have the enforcers figured out what’s going on or not?” Anger sparked her flawless skin a deep red, and fear pinched her full lips.
Vivienne sat and focused on them. “Kell? Moira? What have you discovered?”
A blast of rage slammed into Moira so hard her breath caught. She cut her gaze to Conn, who stood with no expression on his face, shoulders back, stance relaxed. But fury blazed. As his mate, she burned. Maybe she should’ve informed him about her temporary employment as an enforcer.
Kell clasped his hands behind his back. “Whoever is taking coven members has figured out a way to transport them somewhere. They tried to take Moira earlier.”