Vindicated by Bella Klaus

Chapter Ten

“Lydia?” said the Angel King.

I bared my teeth. “What?”

“This is your last chance,” he said. “Shift, or we will use advanced-level magic to force a transformation.”

“If you knew how to bend an alpha wolf to your will, you would have done so already,” I said with a sneer. “You couldn’t make Beowulf move the shifters out of Logris, and I’ll bet you can’t make me shift.”

The professor placed a hand over his mouth. “Your Majesty, the process is well documented—”

“Tire yourselves out,” I snapped. “I’m the mate of a god, and I have the magic of a primordial demon. It will be fun to watch your efforts backfire.”

When I stopped communicating with them, Professor Fizzil and the Angel King left, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I stared through the transparent walls of my hospital room, watching porters wheel patients across the ward and healers do the rounds across the room.

I’d bet nobody else was laboring under the threat of their mates’ eternal damnation. Rage simmered in the pit of my belly, heating my blood to a boiling point. Fenrir didn’t deserve to be locked up again. Not after over two thousand and twenty years of being imprisoned for an apocalypse he didn’t cause.

A stream of people came in to see me, starting with the bland Supernatural Council queens who never said much during meetings. They tried to explain the importance of stopping a creature like Marchosias, but I no longer gave a shit.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I blocked them out and forced myself to snooze. It was all I could do, given that they’d tied me down like Hannibal Lecter. The only person I wanted to speak to right now was the advocate Mum said she would find us to help free Fenrir.

“Lydia?” said a voice from the hallway.

I cracked open an eye. Mera stepped into the room with King Valentine, and they made a striking pair. He was about the same height and build as Fenrir with bronze skin and black hair, while she was petite, pale, and red-haired.

Mera wore a similar outfit to the one I’d chosen to sneak into the alpha’s mansion—a black turtleneck that contrasted with her complexion, and a pair of slim-fitting black pants.

From the way the fabric lifted over her slender frame, it looked like her garments cost more than all our belongings in the shack. It was odd at a time like this to notice that they were at a level of class and sophistication above mine, but I couldn’t help feeling grubby with my hospital gown and unbrushed hair.

“Have you come to tell me to be more reasonable?” I muttered.

“Hardly.” Mera settled herself into the sofa, but King Valentine remained standing and positioned himself behind his wife. “Your situation reminds me of the multiple betrayals we’ve suffered from the Council.”

My head snapped up. “What?”

She rubbed her chin. “They once sentenced me to death without giving me a lawyer. And they would have executed my entire coven if they hadn’t run.”

King Valentine placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and she gave his hand a gentle pat.

I turned to him and scowled. “You just sat there while they tried to kill Mera?”

The Vampire King tilted his head to the side with an expression I could only describe as sheepish.

“Don’t blame Valentine,” she said with a smile. “He was dead at the time of my sentencing. And they’ve pulled this crap against him, too. The most recent of the stunts was throwing him in jail for breaching the Supernatural Secrecy Act.”

My brows drew together, and I glanced up at the dark-skinned vampire. “Did you do it?”

“Not particularly,” he said. “But imprisonments like these are part of the Council’s politics.”

I swallowed hard. “Are you saying there’s a way I can free Fenrir?”

“If you play their game,” he said with the barest of shrugs.

“Right.” I rubbed the base of my throat. “But what are the rules?”

Mera parted her lips to say something, but King Valentine spoke first. “Look at the bigger political landscape. Fenrir killed a reaper, but what does the Council really want?”

Pausing, I sifted through what I knew about the Council’s biggest players. King Hades oscillated between wanting my body and wanting an alliance with Queen Hel, while the Angel King seemed more concerned with evacuating Logris.

“They got rid of him so I would agree to send the shifters to another location,” I growled.

“That’s one thing they need, but think bigger.” King Valentine raised his brows and offered me a meaningful look. Something glinted in his violet eyes. Perhaps it was a touch of mischief.

I swallowed hard. He wasn’t telling me directly because he was also playing the political game. My tongue darted out to lick my dry lips. “The Angel King brought a professor here earlier.”

His brows rose. “Someone of great knowledge and importance?”

Nodding, I continued. “They tried pressuring me into agreeing to a procedure that would break my connection to Marchosias.”

King Valentine winked, and he tapped Mera’s shoulder in a motion that meant it was time to leave. “Once you’ve found a bargaining chip, use it wisely.”

My breath caught. I wanted the primordial bastard out of my head and far away from my dreams, but King Valentine was suggesting that I hang onto my connection. It wasn’t like I was planning on doing anything the Angel King said, but I hadn’t expected him to go against his own Council.

Mera reached across the bed and gave my forearm a gentle squeeze. “We can’t be seen to be encouraging dissent, but we know what it’s like to be separated by those bastards.”

“Thank you,” I said. “It’s been really helpful.”

She rose from the sofa and placed a basket of assorted chocolates on the bedside table. “Good luck. Stay firm and make sure they don’t manipulate you into making a decision that isn’t right for you, your shifters, or your mate.”

King Valentine wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and they walked out of the room. I parted my lips, wanting them to stay for a little longer, but I clamped my mouth shut. Even I could read between the lines that they couldn’t outline a plan to have Fenrir released without upsetting the rest of the Council. I had to figure out what to do by myself.

I lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, reeling from their unspoken advice. If I fell asleep before I severed my connection with Marchosias, he would make our next encounter painful. But King Valentine was right. This connection I had with a primordial source of evil was the only thing I could use to force them to set Fenrir free.

“Miss Gerrison,” said a slimy voice.

King Hades slithered into the room, his eyes twinkling. He wore a pastel-blue shirt unbuttoned to the sternum that showcased his pecs, and a navy blazer that made him look like the captain of a sailboat to Hell.

“The Angel King informs me that you are refusing to remove your connection to Marchosias,” he said.

My skin tightened with the sensation of crawling centipedes. Of all the Council Members, it was hard to decide if I disliked the Angel King the most, who acted like he was good and fair until he stabbed you in the back, or King Hades, who was happy to stab you in the front.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

“Don’t be upset.” He ignored the sofa and perched on the edge of my mattress, his fingertips trailing over the sheet. The room’s artificial light glinted on his gaudy ring, which was shaped like a skull with diamonds for eyes. “I came to check on your welfare.”

Annoyance twanged across my tight nerves. I shuffled to the other side of the bed, trying to place as much distance between myself and the Demon King as possible.

“Did you arrange Fenrir’s arrest?” I asked.

He placed a hand on his chest. “It was a shock to see him encased in that prism of imprisonment.”

My lip curled. Who did he think he was kidding with all this bullshit? What I needed to do was close my eyes and block him out, just like I did with the Angel King, Professor Fizzil, and the others who trailed in after them to persuade me to shift. That’s what I should have done, but something about King Hades was too aggravating to ignore.

“Is this where you deny setting him up and selling him out to his sister?”

King Hades’ features melted into a mask of concern. He leaned in, his brows furrowing, his dark gaze boring into mine. “Everything I did was to protect you.”

I reared back, hitting a nest of pillows. “What?”

He reached for my hand, but I slapped his fingers away.

“Ouch!” He clutched his hand to his chest as though I’d injured him.

I rolled my eyes. “You betrayed Fenrir out of self-interest.”

His posture sagged a little, and he dipped his head, making sure to give it a little shake. If this expression had come from anyone else, I would have thought they were dejected, but this was Hades, the Demon King who reported Fenrir to Hel at his first opportunity.

A growl reverberated in the back of my throat at the memory of seeing Fenrir dragged away by Queen Hel’s demons, and my heart clenched at the image of him kneeling on the floor of his hut, tethered by gigantic ropes.

My hands shook with the force of my rage. I wanted to transform my hands into claws and lash out at King Hades, but that would only bring me a step toward shifting—something I couldn’t afford to do when it was my wolf who had been marked by Marchosias.

“When the Norse Alpha looked like he was going to kill you, I rushed to your rescue.”

“Really?” I drawled. “Because I didn’t see you there.”

“Fenrir stepped through the wards before I could act, and he killed that brute.”

My lips tightened. Only one part of that statement was the truth. I wasn’t sure that King Hades would have interfered with my fight, but that wasn’t important.

His eyes softened. “I thought Fenrir would take that opportunity to declare his love.”

Ragged breaths whistled through my nostrils. He was trying to turn me against my own mate. “Why are you telling me this?”

“When he declared himself the new Shifter King, it looked to me like he would either kill or enslave you.”

I jerked my head away from the Demon King, my mind drifting to that moment in time. He and Mera had been concerned for my welfare and had tried to help, but Fenrir had charmed Mum and I couldn’t leave her alone with him.

“You see, as dastardly as I may appear, I would never allow a vulnerable young woman to fall into the clutches of a monster.”

“Because she could be in your clutches instead?” I snarled.

He took my hand. “Precisely.”

“Fenrir isn’t a monster.” I yanked my entire arm away.

“He decapitated an innocent man with his bare hands,” King Hades said. “And Queen Hel has a litany of complaints about the atrocities he committed before the Great Divide.”

“When he was a wolf?” I turned back to King Hades, my nostrils flaring. “And isn’t two millennia a long sentence for any supposed crimes?”

King Hades made an exaggerated sigh. It was the kind people made when others couldn’t see reason.

“Fenrir is my mate,” I said from between clenched teeth. “And I stand by him no matter what. If you’re looking for someone else to betray, I suggest you return to Hell.”

“It wasn’t me who arranged Fenrisúlfr’s arrest,” he murmured.

“Then why are you here?” I asked.

The corners of his lips curled into a smile. “To offer a shoulder to cry on, a helping hand to ease your frustrations? A hot body to slake your demands for hate sex?”

“I have Fenrir for all that apart from the hatred. Hatred is something I reserve only for you.”

“What?” he whispered, his voice sharp with false shock.

“So, unless you’re offering to break Fenrir out of your prism, you can bugger off.”

King Hades didn’t move for several moments, his gaze boring into the side of my face. I stared ahead, determined not to engage in his nonsense. Strangely, I believed him when he said he hadn’t arranged the arrest. That had seemed to be the machinations of the Angel King. Everything else about the man was a lie.

“You know, Miss Gerrison, I could make this all go away but I would need a favor in return.”

“What?”

“Nothing onerous,” he said with a chuckle.

I folded my arms across my chest. “Spell it out.”

“Norse blood.”

“Why do you want something like that?” I asked.

“The Norse gods have a certain flair for magic that Greek gods lack. I wish to perform a few medical experiments on a sick associate.”

More like he wanted to perform some kind of nefarious black magic. “Set Fenrir free, and I’ll think about it.”

“His trial is scheduled at four tomorrow, and the verdict has already been decided by the majority.”

My stomach plummeted, and I turned my gaze back to the Demon King. Mera and her husband would have mentioned a trial if they’d known about it. “How could you arrange it so quickly?”

“It’s a formality. The Supernatural Council needs to transfer Fenrir into the custody of his sister, but because he’s a monarch, they need to decide with a formal vote.”

“And you said the outcome was decided?” I rasped. “How?”

“Habit, mostly. The Fae King always votes guilty, regardless of the evidence provided. The Angel King is the aggrieved party, seeing as the reaper worked for him. And I’ll vote guilty unless you agree to supply me with the blood.”

My breaths turned shallow, and I pictured the other members of the Council. “Which leaves four other people who might say he’s not guilty?”

King Hades tilted his head to the side and offered me a pitying smile. “The Witch and Mage Queens will wait for the more influential Council members to cast their votes before going with the majority.”

“Who are these influential members, then?” I asked.

“The Angel King and me.”

I placed a hand over my chest to calm the clatter of my heart. “What about the Fire Queen and the Vampire King?”

“They’re pedantic,” he said with a dismissive wave. “All they care about is evidence. Neither of them have the flair for politics.”

“You mean they’re fair judges.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Semantics.”

“What you’re suggesting is blackmail,” I snarled.

“Correct,” he purred and leaned even closer until the heat of his body radiated against my arm.

“All right,” I said.

He drew back, his brows rising. “Would you care to elaborate?”

Turning to meet his eyes, I said, “I’ll give you what you want.”

“When?” he asked.

“When I can get it.”

His nostrils flared, and he sucked in an annoyed breath. “Do you think I'm incapable of spotting loopholes?”

“Well, do you think I’m capable of extracting my mate’s blood if he's stuck in a shard of light?”

His eyes darkened. “You would do well not to mock a serious request.”

It was my turn to tilt my head to the side. Maybe I’d been flippant in agreeing with him too easily. I certainly had no intention of following through and giving him even a speck of Fenrir’s blood. But it had been an impossible request unless he wanted me to sign a promise in blood.

“If you want a serious answer, use your magic to release me from these bonds.” I raised my hands as far as the cuffs would allow.

King Hades narrowed his eyes. “You could answer me right now.”

“Don’t tell me you can’t snap your fingers and set me free.”

He clicked his fingers, and the restraints fell loose.

I swung my legs out of the cot, making King Hades step away, his eyes flashing.

“Your answer?” he said.

I met his smoldering eyes and forced myself not to flinch at their intensity. “Unless you can sign a contract outlining exactly what you intend to do with Fenrir’s blood, as well as an irrevocable promise that it won’t be used directly or indirectly to hurt us or any of our subjects, the answer is no.”

He bared his teeth in a snarl.

Someone cleared their throat. A seven-foot-tall man with a beard that covered his entire front stood in the doorway, taking up the entire space. My brows furrowed. He was larger than any shifter I’d ever seen, except nothing about his scent suggested he had an animal soul.

He stepped into the room, clutching a leather case. “Queen Lydia Gerrison? I was an associate of your father’s.”

King Hades threw back his head and laughed. “You’re employing Minos as your defense?”

The man lowered himself into a deep bow. “Your Majesty, it is always a pleasure.”

I clenched my teeth. Mum wouldn’t have chosen someone known for losing cases. King Hades was probably trying to throw me off-balance so I would agree to his ridiculous bargain.

The Demon King turned to me and winked. “Think about my proposition. It’s the only way you can guarantee Fenrir’s freedom.”

“What about Queen Hel?” I said. “Won’t helping us jeopardize your alliance with her?”

King Hades sniffed. “With enough Norse blood, I would never need to court favor with the Queen of the Sixth.”

I watched him stalk out of the room, wondering if he’d been lying about needing the blood to help heal a sick associate. It was hard to tell what the Demon King really wanted. At times, he seemed to act out of genuine concern, but then he ruined it by making indecent proposals.

The man in black cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Minos Europa, Supernatural Advocate.”

I lowered myself onto the edge of the bed. “Pleased to meet you.”

He gestured at the seat. “May I?”

“Of course.” I shuffled back on the bed and sat up with my legs tucked to the side. “Did my mum contact you about my mate?”

Minos inclined his head. “I’m renowned for dealing with challenging supernatural cases where all evidence points toward the defendant’s guilt.”

My mouth dropped open and a denial rose to my lips, but Minos raised a hand. “In this case, I can see that King Fenrir acted in self-defense.”

“What?”

“Do you not remember the reaper slicing him through the chest with a scythe?”

I rubbed the back of my neck and frowned. “Maybe. Everything happened so quickly that night.”

He gave me a sympathetic nod. “Near-death experiences are often traumatic, and the brain suppresses a significant amount of memories. It’s why your testimony of the events of that evening won’t be admissible in court.”

“Because they think I won’t remember?”

“That, and the fact that you didn’t stay dead has eroded some of your credibility.”

I wanted to ask more about how the courts viewed people like me, but I shook off the question. What was most important right now was setting Fenrir free. “So, you’re going with self-defense?”

“That is our strongest angle for securing the freedom of King Fenrir.”

“All right.” I licked my lips. “Can I go to the court as a general character witness?”

His features formed a neutral mask. “Since you are mated, the Council will view any testimony you provide as biased.”

“But I can still go?”

“As a visitor,” he said with a nod.

“All right.”

Minos rose from his seat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I will set up camp outside the courtroom.”

“Why?” I asked. “Don’t you need to go through the footage and read up on similar cases?”

His lips tightened with disapproval. “It’s customary for the Supernatural Council to arrange controversial trials at inopportune moments.”

“So the right witnesses don’t appear?”

“One could see it that way,” he said in a voice that implied that the Council were slippery bastards who changed the rules to suit their whims.

“Thanks,” I said. “Will you let me know when the trial takes place?”

He reached into his waistcoat, extracted a pocket watch, and flipped it open. “Take this, Your Majesty.” He tore off a strip of round parchment. “As soon as the trial starts, this will burn. Simply push your magic into it, and you will appear at my side.”

I took the proffered paper, which smelled of brimstone, and frowned. “Does it work like an enchanted mirror?”

“It’s an archaic form of teleportation demons used to employ.” He chuckled, but the sound contained no mirth.

“Why don’t they use it any more?” I glanced down on the innocuous piece of parchment.

“Some don’t relish the prospect of being engulfed by Hellfire. However, if you prefer the mirror, then you may use itwhen my parchment burns.”

Nausea twisted through my insides. After experiencing that burning warehouse, I wasn’t interested in coming into contact with flames of any kind. I tore my gaze away from the demonic object. “Which courtroom will the trial be held in?”

“There’s the rub,” he murmured. “Nobody knows until the trial starts.”

“And that’s why you’re setting up camp?” I asked.

His eyes glinted. “Some would say the law is an ass. I would describe it as a many-headed hydra unleashed by the powerful to control the masses.”

“That sounds about right,” I muttered.

Minos strode to the door and tipped an imaginary hat. “Good day, Your Majesty.”

Blowing out a breath, I settled on the pillows and watched him walk through the ward and toward a room labelled ‘MIRRORS.’ Some of the tightness around my chest loosened. Minos seemed to know what he was doing, and he understood that the Supernatural Council could be slippery. I hoped his strategy of self-defense would set Fenrir free.

An alarm sounded, making my head snap up.

The patient in the room opposite shot out of bed, her body twisting and shifting into a sheep twice the usual size, with spiral horns that could gouge out a person’s eyes. She stepped out of her restraints and jumped off the bed, landing on her side with a pained moan.

“Is this the mental ward for shifters?” I said out loud.

A pair of orderlies raced into the room, wrestled her back onto the bed and tied her down with thick straps.

I glanced around for a phone, so I could call Mum or Mr. Owen to discharge me, so I wouldn’t end up like that poor sheep shifter. All I found on the side table was the basket Mera had brought me and a buzzer to call for assistance.

Clenching my teeth, I pressed the buzzer, and a sharp scent reached my nostrils.

Minos’ parchment was burning.

My jaw dropped.

Fenrir’s trial had already started, and I was stuck in this blasted hospital.