“I apologize, your Honor,” Imani said coolly. “My nerves are just a little on edge right now—considering that someone has tried to kill me twice in the past twenty-four hours.”
“Well, that would tend to unsettle one,” the judge admitted grudgingly. “Still, I also had reports of your client running down the hallway and having to be restrained by guards. From what I heard, many Mistresses were frightened out of their minds by the display.”
“He was trying to catch the morphid who set the bomb in the first place,” Imani protested. “I’m sorry if anyone was frightened but J’are was just trying to protect me.”
“Yes, well, he does seem very attached to you,” Judge Thoughtgood mused. “But I’m still not convinced that he can be allowed out in polite society safely.”
“We were at the public anti-grav pool for several hours today,” Imani offered. “And absolutely nothing illegal or improper happened.”
She felt her cheeks get hot as she spoke. Nothing improper except the fact that she’d allowed her client to go down on her and massage her with his tongue. God, she still couldn’t believe she’d let him to do that! What was wrong with her being so unprofessional?
But here in court was not the time for self recrimination. She pushed her guilt aside and concentrated on keeping her face blank.
“Be that as it may, I would like to see this exemplary behavior for myself,” Judge Thoughtgood said.
“Can your Honor not see now?” Imani gestured at J’are. “Look how calm and composed my client is.”
“Yes, but this is a quiet setting, not a crowded area with a lot of noise and people, Councilor.” The judge gave her a stern look. “I cannot have this bodyslave unleashed upon the public until I see with my own eyes that he won’t become triggered in some way and go berserk in a public setting.”
“But—” Imani began but Lady Bittlebum interrupted.
“If I may make a suggestion, your Honor,” she said. “I’m having an intimate little party at my house tonight—just fifty or sixty of my closest friends. Why not have the Defender and her client come? And your Honor is, of course, invited as well. That way you can observe the brute properly.”
“Well, now that’s an idea.” Judge Thoughtgood looked thoughtful. “I suppose a gathering like that would be an ideal setting to judge if the Nightwalker can be trusted in public.”
“I also have Horvath guards on hand, in case he gets out of control,” Lady Bittlebum said.
“Your Honor, I must object to this idea,” Imani protested. “The Horvaths abused my client when he was down in the “hole” in the Yonnite detention facility. Seeing them again is difficult for him. Also, Mistress Bittlebum’s home is the place he grew up with his adopted mother, Mistress Hownow. Being in that setting—in a home which would rightfully belong to him if he hadn’t been cheated out of it—will be extremely stressful!”
“Which makes it an even better test of his self control,” Judge Thoughtgood said decisively. “I like this idea, Lady Bittlebum. It was very kind of you to suggest it and offer your home as a setting for this test,” she added, nodding at the lemon-haired Mistress.
“Thank you, your Honor. I just want to see that justice is done.” Lady Bittlebum preened importantly. She turned a poisonous gaze on Imani. “The reception starts at nine tonight. See that you and that scruffy bodyslave aren’t late.”
J’are glared at the lemon-haired Mistress, a low growl rising in his throat.
Quickly, Imani put a hand on his arm to calm and silence him.
“May I ask if the court is doing anything to find the real killer of Lady Zangelo?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at Judge Thoughtgood. “Since it has been proven that my client is innocent?”
Judge Thoughtgood frowned.
“That is a matter for the Yonnite Peace Keepers force and not you, Councilor. Kindly confine yourself to your own case.”
Imani wanted to protest that the murder which someone had tried to pin on her client was her case—or an integral part of it, at least. And she also wanted to protest the idea that she and J’are go to the reception at his old house. But it was clear that the judge’s mind was made up.
“Yes, your Honor,” she said woodenly.
“Very good. Then I’ll see you tonight at Lady Bittlebum’s party. If I judge that your client is behaving himself in a civilized manner and that he poses no harm to those around him, I’ll release him permanently into your custody and you can take him wherever you like,” Judge Thoughtgood said. “If, however, I do not like his behavior, it’s back to the detention center he goes and from there, immediate execution. Do I make myself clear, Councilor?”
“Yes, your Honor.”
Imani swallowed hard. Tonight would be a test and failing it would mean J’are’s life. Could he pass this trial? Especially during the evening hours, when his feral side would be so much harder to control?
He’ll have to, she thought, casting a sidelong glance at the big Nightwalker. If he doesn’t, he’ll die.
And there would be nothing she could do to save him.
Twenty-Nine
“How do I look?” Imani held out her arms and did a slow turn.
“Well, the pain collar remote is very prominently displayed. Judge Thoughtgood will be pleased” J’are said dryly.
He nodded to the beaded necklace she wore with the remote dangling from it like some kind of strange ornament. They had decided it would be best for her to wear it openly, so that the judge could see that Imani was being prudent and responsible—not that she would ever use it. She had assured J’are of that and he believed her.
“No, not the pain remote—the dress. Is it too much?” Imani asked anxiously, indicating the Yonnite dress she was wearing.
It was the fanciest one she’d
