I looked at my mates, ready to tell them that we needed to do something. Intuition was pulsing dread through me. “Guys…” We needed to run, we needed to—
Judge Braxton’s gavel slammed down. My stomach clenched in fear.
“After taking testimonies and public votes into account, I hereby rule that Spector Incorporated and all their unlawful practices of demon rituals and possessions be hereby terminated indefinitely,” he declared, his voice ringing out through the crowd. He gave a hard stare over the entire auditorium. “It is also my decree that all Spector hybrids be destroyed immediately. These abnormal supernatural amalgams are too volatile and powerful to be allowed to exist. Therefore, under the jurisdiction of the council, it has been decided that all hybrids are to be arrested immediately, and executions will be set for public viewing. If any hybrid should attempt to flee or become violent, enforcers are permitted to kill on sight. Stiles Trant will step down as Paragon, as punishment for his involvement with Spector. I will pardon the other council members, as they were coerced by demon influence to participate. That is my ruling.”
The gavel snapped.
The audience exploded with voices.
My fingers laced through Tomb’s and Crow’s, my hands holding on tight right up until the moment the enforcers wrenched us apart. They snapped handcuffs on our wrists and led us away, while the crowd booed and spat obscenities at me. Shock kept my lips locked with silence, as I followed the enforcer’s directions numbly.
Was this really happening? Did I go through all of that just to be “destroyed” by the council?
“It’s not fucking right!” Stiles shouted and struggled beside me. “We showed you the truth, and we fucking saved you!” he yelled, but no one cared to listen. “We saved you all, and she did what she had to do! You should be fucking thanking her!”
He looked livid, ready to launch himself at the crowd, but I shook my head. “Don’t,” I pleaded. “It won’t help, and it’ll only get you killed faster. You heard Judge Braxton.”
We were all pulled through the courtroom and led through the doors in the back, leaving the cheering and leering mob behind. The enforcers roughly directed us down a long hallway, guns pressed to our backs. Stiles was still yelling and cursing everyone for Judge Braxton’s ruling, and the guards slammed him to the ground.
They weren’t fucking around. Even though my mates and I could regenerate, it would take time, and I had no doubt that they would gladly shoot us in the skulls before ripping our heads off our bodies and burning us to ash. And if that didn’t keep us dead forever, I was willing to bet that the council would keep us imprisoned for the rest of our immortal, indestructible lives.
“How much longer do you think it’ll be?” I asked while I paced our cell.
Before the hearing, they’d at least pretended to care about us, putting my mates and I in rooms that had a bed and bathroom. Now, we were in a cell no better than the ones we had at Spector, left with nothing to do but pace the floors and wait for an execution date.
The other hybrids who hadn’t made it out of Spector were taken into custody by the council. And as soon as the ruling came to have us destroyed, their executions were ordered. It was swift and broadcasted to the masses. It was a way to appease the pissed off supes angry at what Spector and the council had been involved in.
But it was also a warning. In case anyone else thought to recreate the ritual and steal some power. The council wasn’t fucking around. A new law was passed stating that anyone who performed a demonic ritual would be sentenced to death immediately.
They made us watch the executions. We stood in the blistering cold, the harsh wind whipping against our cheeks as each of their heads was severed. The crowd cheered. Some hissed. Ms. Cainson stood by Judge Braxton, smiling broadly at the spectacle and clapping when the hybrids’ heads rolled along the concrete.
My mates and I were still alive for the sole reason that they couldn’t figure out how to kill us. At first, we wondered if they would torture us until we stopped regenerating, but then we realized that they didn’t want to look like failures. If we kept coming back to life, the public would lose faith in the council’s ability to take care of the hybrid problem.
So we waited. And waited. And waited some more. We heard whispers of exorcisms and beheadings, but nothing was set yet. The Spector scientists had surrendered all of their studies to the council, which meant they got to see just how indestructible we were.
Every day that went on, the waiting was like an added barb to my gut. I hated waking up every morning and not knowing. Not knowing if today would be the day that the council would decide to try to kill us. I feared a life separated from my mates. I feared watching them suffer needlessly. I feared our end.
“Stop pacing, Motley,” Crow whispered while patting the cold concrete beside him in our cell.
At least they let us stay together. Honestly, I think Tomb would’ve gone berserk and smashed his way over to me if they’d separated us, power blockades be damned. I wasn’t sure what kind of magic they used to keep our abilities at bay in this prison, but it was different than the demon ritual circles. Instead of my powers and my spider feeling bound, this just made us tired and our powers weak.
“I just hate that we’re locked up here waiting. My spider feels anxious,” I replied with a sigh before shooting webs onto the floor and creating a pillowed cushion of silk. The effort of that small use of power left me feeling dizzy with exhaustion. Fucking magical power block.
The moment I
