I didn’t know, but I’d find it. I’d say anything I had to, to make him understand.

The crowd went still again, but differently than before. When I looked up I saw why. The Council

had arrived.

From left to right they stood in front of their chairs: Kir with his red hair echoing the flaming sky

filling the glass, Marcus in another gray suit, and Bruce placed precisely one step out in front,

halfway between his chair and the big red throne. On the other side, Alton looked somber as he

folded his arms and looked out across the crowd, Hiro stared steadily down at me with something I

think was supposed to be an encouraging expression, and Ezra pulled his sweater sleeves down and

settled into watchful immobility.

I’d forgotten to breathe. I inhaled.

Bruce tilted his head a little. He didn’t have to yell; the words cut the silence like hot knife through

butter. “The Kouroi are assembled. The Trial will begin.” His mouth turned down for a moment,

like he was tasting something bitter. “Christophe Reynard, you stand accused of treason. Present

yourself.”

Half of Christophe’s mouth quirked up. He stayed where he was for a few moments, looking intent-ly at me, then straightened. Turned on his heel and paced toward the dais, where the crowd had

magically melted away.

He moved out into that space like he owned every inch of it. “Isn’t the head of the Order supposed

to be here?” It could have been possible to put a little more fuck you into his tone, but some of it

might’ve slopped out the sides.

Kir stiffened. Hiro looked bored, but his eyes glittered. I knew that look, having seen it in a few

bars where Dad took me, looking for information on the Real World while I sipped a Coke and ignored pretty much everything except whomever he was talking to.

“You’d think he’d learn to be tactful.” Leon’s whisper drifted to my right ear. “Breathe, Milady.”

“You will be judged by your peers, Reynard.” Hiro’s weight was all on the balls of his feet, and the

aspect actually crackled around him. His hair stood up, short black spikes rubbing against each other.

I began to feel sick. Way deep-down sick.

“And who among you is my peer? My ancestry is ancient, and my deeds are taught in your classrooms. I’ve saved a svetocha, which is more than any of you have done in the last sixty years. I’ve

kept one step ahead of the nosferatu and those sent to kill me—the Kouroi sent to kill me. I’m here

because I choose to be, because Milady requests it.” He tipped his head slightly toward me, and I

wondered how he made it so effing clear just who he was talking about. Of course, I was the only