Pale Demon

style. Working for the coven. Ha! But at least I’d get paid for doing something I’d probably have to do anyway.

Seeing his victory dissolving in a wash of common sense, Oliver stood. “We should adjourn and discuss this in private.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said, grabbing my amplifying amulet, uncrossing my legs, and leaning forward past Trent to see Oliver better. “I was promised a trial before my peers.” Along with my shunning being removed and an end to this, but first things first.

Pierce stood, tugging his vest straight and reaching for his amulet. “A private council is how I ended up in the ground,” he said. “I won’t accept going behind closed doors.”

A hole in the ground, a cell with no windows. I could always call on Al, but if I did, there’d be no way I’d get my shunning removed. I fidgeted as the crowd buzzed and the witches at the table discussed the issue. Finally Wyatt rang the bell for silence. “I want to do this here,” he said, and Oliver fell back in his chair with a dramatic expression of irritation. “I don’t want to spend days on this. I have just one question.” He looked at the other two witches, silent, but clearly as interested as he was. “Perhaps this is a morality trial after all.”

Morality, I thought, starting to sweat. I could do this. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, and I envied Trent, who was holding Lucy. He could suggest running me through with a flagpole, and as long as he was holding that baby, all they would say would be “Awwww.”

Vivian looked questioningly at me, and after glancing at Pierce, I nodded. Seeing my acceptance, she inclined her head at the witch, and he reached for his amulet as he leaned forward. “I want to hear why they each risked shunning to learn black magic.”

The crowd quieted, and I felt a wash of hope. Survival. I’d done it for survival. And I could say that without that stupid bell ringing. Who would blame me for that?

“Very well,” Vivian said, a faint worry line on her brow giving me pause. “Rachel, why did you learn black magic?”

Pierce sat down and I stood, nervous as I took a step forward. “By necessity,” I said, thinking of all the curses I’d used and the soul-searching that had come before them. “To stay alive, and to save the lives of those I love.”

The audience was silent, waiting for the bell that never rang. Even as the truth came out, I was saddened. They had truly believed I’d done it because I was a power-hungry monster.

“Gordian Pierce?” Vivian said.

The chair creaked as he stood, and I watched him step a little past me. “I learned black magic to kill demons.”

A wave of soft sound rose and fell from the people beyond the haze, and Oliver leaned forward, his little eyes glinting. “And have you…killed demons?” he asked. “With your black-arts skills?”

“I have had moderate success,” he said, and from the corner of my sight, I watched Trent bow his head, holding Lucy close as if he were hurt. “I have tried,” Pierce stated loudly as the crowd showed their disbelief.

“Just two days ago, I almost killed a demon.”

Al, I thought, grimacing. Then I went cold, turning to look at Pierce in horror. Shit.

“But you failed,” Oliver needled him. “Why should we allow you to rejoin the coven if you’re not skilled enough?”

Shit, shit, shit! I thought as I silently begged Pierce to keep his mouth shut, but I couldn’t move. If I moved, it would look worse.

“I would have succeeded,” Pierce said hotly. “The hell spawn would be dead but for—”

Pierce stopped. His eyes wide, he looked at me in fear. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, knowing what was going to happen. “Rachel, I didn’t think…”

I swallowed hard as his words went out to the hundreds assembled, waiting.

“But for what?” Oliver said. Standing, he gestured. “But for what, Gordian!”

Trent’s head was bowed, and Vivian looked pained. She knew. She had heard us talk.

“I failed,” Pierce stated. “It was my failing. I’m not good enough.”

“Why?” Oliver’s voice was demanding. “If you’re not good enough, then this claim of learning black magic to save ourselves is a load of crap and you should be buried alive again!”

Pierce’s eyes closed, his jaw clenched, refusing to speak.

My chest hurt, and I said the words for him. “Because I stopped him.”

Twenty-two

Trent bowed his head as the auditorium erupted in noise. In Trent’s arms, Lucy woke and began to wail. I knew how she felt.

“Rachel,” Pierce said, and I pushed his hand from me, standing with my chin high even as I felt my one chance slipping away. Damn it. Damn it back to the Turn and hell again.

“You’d have us pardon the black witch who stopped another from killing a demon?” Oliver was shouting, and I cringed. “If you’re afraid and want the taint of black magic among us, the choice is simple! We should choose a demon killer, not the one who saved him! All in favor of Pierce regaining his position?”

My head came up. They wouldn’t vote for me; not now. The crowd became even louder, and as security came forward to keep them back, a bubble snapped into place over the stage. At the coven table, grim-faced people raised their hands. One, two, three, four.

“Trust me,” Trent said, standing with his lips inches from my ear as Lucy howled. “You saved me from demons, and I will save you from the witches. Just play it out. Trust me.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, feeling his grip too tight on me. “Trent…”

“We are voting, Vivian!” Oliver stated, and the woman spun to him, her face tight in worry. “Either say yea or nay or your voice won’t count.”

“I vote against Pierce,” she said quickly. “Oliver. Wait.”

But Oliver was striding to the front of the stage. The noise was loud, and he shouted, “That is four for Pierce, one against. Pierce regains his position, exonerated from his past crimes of black magic, and is given leave to use such skills to destroy demons and save lives.”

This was a good thing, but my stomach was tight, and Oliver was far too happy. Pierce was being pulled backward to the table, absently shaking hands with nervous people now sworn to protect him by a brotherhood only broken in the direst of situations. And he in turn would protect them. From me?

“All in favor of permanently rescinding Rachel Morgan’s shunning and reinstating her as a white witch capable of doing black magic?” Oliver stated.

“Wait!” I said, then fumbled for my amulet. It was going too fast. And Trent was backing away with a crying Lucy—abandoning me.

“Oliver,” Vivian said loudly over the clamor of a hundred voices. “This is not fair, and you know it!”

He grinned at her, looking evil. “For or against, Vivian.”

“I vote for Rachel,” she said breathlessly.

“As do I,” Pierce said, but there were four hands raised against me, and my heart seemed to turn into a black stone.

It was over?

It was over that quickly?

“You lose,” Oliver said, smiling.

I fell back, stumbling until I put the three chairs between me and them. I had that security amulet, and I wasn’t helpless. “You promised me a fair trial!” I said, but no one was listening. “Oliver, I swear, you’ll give it to me, or I will talk. I’ll tell them everything!”

“No, you won’t.” Oliver wasn’t using his amplifying amulet, his back to the assemblage, and I felt myself pale. I looked past him to the crowd, visible now that the house lights had come up. I found my mother, clutching her hands to her chest and crying. My gaze fell then to Ivy, who was ready to live at last—without me. And then I found