I highly doubted that a mandatory audience with the Council could be anything good. Although my guys assured me that events large and small frequently happened in the throne room so that the Council could show their power, my Phoenix was hissing and flapping inside of me, clearly agitated. The doors that we were escorted to were even larger than the doors to the meeting room in which I had been introduced. These were etched with intricate carvings of hundreds of different kinds of mythological creatures, each one life-like and writhing as they twined amongst each other. I could have studied that door for hours, finding something new in it each time. The doors were swung wide to reveal a room edged in gilt, filled nearly to overflowing with people. I instantly froze, not wanting to step a foot into the writhing mass of people so reminiscent of the carvings on the door.

It’s alright, Nix. Hiro’s face betrayed no sign that he was soothing me through our connection. It can be overwhelming at first, but we’re with you.

The crowd parted as we walked through, the faces ranging from excited, to curious, to furious. I spotted Ahmya with a small group of men and women who looked to be about our age. Every face was hostile as they glared at our group moving through the room. As we neared the center, the room opened up enough to allow me to see the seven carved and gilt-edged thrones placed on a raised dais. The carvings mimicked the ones that made up the entryway. The mythologicals on the thrones, however, looked far more imposing. Each ornate creature was emphasized with gilt leaf and what appeared to be gemstones. Every throne held one of the Councilmen, dressed in elegant, severe black and white tuxedos.

You’ve got to be freaking kidding me, what is this? Some twisted monarchy?

Walls, Nix. Damien’s mental voice was amused. I’m working to keep you in our connection, but if you shout like that, I can’t guarantee who else might pick up on your sarcasm. I could sense the underlying concern in his statement. Respect was so important to the Council, what would they do if they knew I viewed them with scorn and contempt?

Don’t fool yourself, Annie girl. They know that most of us hate them. They don’t care. As long as we continue to show them that they’re powerful, what we honestly think of them doesn’t matter. They don’t need to be adored—they just want the power being on the Council gives them.

Councilman Lacroix stepped from his throne, striding forward with a smile to grasp his son’s arm. “Damien. Good. I knew you would respond quickly.”

“Councilman.” Damien’s voice was stern, but I could see the smile twisting at the edge of his lips. I hadn’t realized he would address him formally in a group setting.

Councilman Lacroix turned to me, his smile still in place. “Nix. Thank you for coming. You’ve never answered a call before, so I’m sure this is a little confusing for you.”

Councilman Stepanov also rose from his throne, brushing a hand down the sharp lines of his tuxedo—as if it would dare wrinkle. “Always remember that response to a call from this Council is not optional. Now, if Councilman Ishida will bring in the prisoner so we can get this over with?”

Prisoner? What the hell was going on? Theo shifted at my back, reaching a hand out to rub across the back of my neck, wanting to help ease my tension.

Councilman Ishida raised his hands, silver light sparkling and moving in waves. He strode towards a small door that I hadn’t noticed on the back wall. Unlike the rest of the room, this door stood out due to its starkness—it was more of a panel than a door, as there was no handle that I could see. The light on his hands melded with the door as he got closer until the door glowed with the same silver light as his hands.

My guys had all stiffened at my sides and back, though I could tell they were trying to hide it. Killian was growling lightly under his breath, and Theo was hissing through his teeth. This was not what they had been expecting when we had been called.

Nix, I’m sorry. My father is walling me out. I don’t know what’s about to happen. They’ve put out a full call, so if they are planning a punishment here, we won’t be able to stop it. I could hear the panic in his tone, feel it wafting in waves over me from the others. My Phoenix was hissing, whirling madly in an attempt to get out. I may not know what was going on, but apparently, she was not going to approve of whatever it was. We mentioned this Nix. I wish we could have prepared you more. The Council is the punishing body as well. It could be a banishment or a beating. It could… He trailed off as if unable to continue.

It could be an execution. Theo’s mental voice was hard as steel; cold as ice. If these bastards are going to put on an execution in front of you, I’m going to find a way to punish them. I don’t care if they hear me. If these bastards think that after everything you’ve gone through, we’re going to let them get away with putting you through monitoring an execution they’re dead wrong.

Holy shit. An execution? Seriously? Yes, I had known it happened. Hell, even the human world had the death penalty. People came and watched those. I had always pictured them as solemn affairs, though. Crying, broken relatives, hard-eyed reporters, sullen guards in sterile rooms. This was a party for God’s sake! The dress may range from jeans to black tie, but there was laughter still echoing around the room, the delicate smells wafting from the banquet tables, champagne flutes full of golden liquid. How was an execution appropriate here? Murmurs had begun to ring out through the crowd as Councilman Ishida focused on whatever he was doing with the doorway.

He’s opening all of the doors behind that panel. It leads down to the jail. He’s a celestial kitsune, remember? He handles all the barriers. He’s incredibly skilled at it. He’s leading the prisoner up from the cells through the hallway. Only his powers are keyed to these doorways. It’s to prevent anyone from escaping. Damien’s mental voice was soft, even a little distracted. I wondered if he was trying to scan the room, to see if he could gain any more information about what was occurring shortly.

Hiro’s hand was ghosting lightly over the small of my back. I know he wanted to pull me into him, to help shield me and control my emotions, but we all knew that was impossible. Not only did the Council still view us as friends, but it would make me look weak in front of the mass of shifters that surrounded us. Weakness here would not be tolerated—it would be exploited.

I turned my attention back to the other Council members, trying to see if I could get any kind of read on them. Councilman Rahal and Councilman Williams were speaking quietly, their lips shielded by their hands so that even if someone in the audience could read lips, they would struggle. Councilman Khan was nearly sprawled in his seat, sipping from a glass of what I assumed was a dark liquor, his focus on the women milling close to his throne rather than the drama that was unfolding. Councilman Maldonado worried me, however. A small, dark smile twisted his lips, and he was practically vibrating with excitement. His eyes were flashing lightly, and he gripped the handles of his throne tightly as if he would lose control of himself if he couldn’t keep himself grounded.

He is excited by the potential of blood. Hiro’s voice was laced with disgust. Most of us try not to fall into the stereotypes of our supernatural half. Wolf shifters don’t usually howl at the moon; fairies don’t hold drunken parties… some of us though, either can’t or won’t break the stereotypes. Councilman Maldonado is the only Manananggal I have met—he lives for the fear that his creature inspires and for what he calls “the beauty of blood in the song of death”. He’s twisted, Nix. Stay away from him.

I shivered slightly, wanting to lean into his touch. It’s not like he needed to tell me that again. My Phoenix and I had been wary of him when we had first heard his description. When we saw him at our first meeting with the Council, we knew he was not a man to cross. There was something about him that wasn’t quite right—as if he lacked any of the natural graces of humanity. My attention was drawn back to Councilman Stepanov when he took his seat. His eyes were hard as they studied me, and I assumed he hadn’t removed them from me before this point. He had been making a study of my perusal of the room and my reaction to everything I was seeing and thinking. He crossed his legs slowly, his fingers pressed against his lips as if holding in a secret.

With a creaking moan, the panel slowly began to slide from the wall. A figure staggered into the room, cocooned in silver light as if it was creating a wall around him to separate him from the observers in the room. I gasped, nearly staggering as he took another sluggish step forward.

Michael. The word was almost a whimper in my head. My Phoenix shrieked, wings flapping in rage. I couldn’t quite tell who she mad at—Michael for existing and being so close to us and our guys, the Council for springing this on us, or the humor and scorn currently covering the face of Councilman Stepanov.

Damien took a step forward, turning his body to better shield our group. My brave warrior. I was so grateful to Theo for the lessons we had been having. While my fingers ached with the need to throw up walls of flame, I was able to maintain a choke hold on my Phoenix and keep her from overwhelming me.

Councilman Khan’s voice was surprisingly soft as he spoke, yet it echoed throughout the now silent chamber. “This part-blood,” hisses echoed through the chamber at this pronouncement, “has violated multiple laws of our society. He willfully murdered an extremely rare mythological.”

I froze, going completely numb. Even the fire inside me sputtered at the ice that was quickly filling my veins. I had known he had to have been the one who killed my mother, but to hear it announced to the public, to have her life value reduced to her shifter class, made it all feel real, and my heart nearly broke.

Chin up, Annie girl. They’re bastards. Don’t let them see they’re getting to you. Use your mask. We’ll make it better later. Killian’s rough voice filled my head, a soothing stroke helping to hold back the tidal wave inside of me.

“He then stole her daughter, the only other Phoenix shifter known to have existed in over three hundred years. Instead of bringing her to the Council and turning himself in for our justice, as was his duty, he ran with the child. He decided to raise her amongst humans as he owns no powers of his own. He planned to cultivate blood from the child once she shifted.”

The ice was slowly starting to edge from my veins at the cries of anger and disgust that filled the room behind me. He was pouring my entire past out to the public. Yes, it was in the guise of explaining Michael’s actions to allow for whatever punishment they had planned, but from the smiles gracing the faces of Councilman Stepanov, Councilman Maldonado, and Councilman Rahal, I was fairly certain that this level of explanation was unnecessary.

They could be trying to garner pity for you. Theo's voice was hard, but considering, as he answered my thoughts through our link. If the other shifters have an idea of why you don’t understand our culture, why you may make simple mistakes, or act human at times, it may buy you some safety. Their pity will give you a buffer against any offense that may be caused.

Or, they’re just being assholes and like hurting her for not falling in line with them. Killian’s voice was hot, and I could tell he was starting to struggle to hold back his Puca.

Also a probability. Theo admitted dryly.

“We have heard testimony from the offender himself, as well as from other witnesses, that instead of at least caring for the girl, teaching her of her heritage, he took an antiquated approach in her raising. Trying to force a shift so that he could harvest from her, he spent the sixteen years he had her under his control abusing and torturing her and passing her to other humans for abuse. He had hoped that physical abuse would not only make her easier to control, but that the pain and the frequent deaths would force her Phoenix to rise.”

Ahmya had stepped closer to her father and was now studying me with an interest that made my skin itch. It seemed that most of the room had figured out that the Council was referring to me. Many looked at me with outright pity; others refused to meet my gaze. My guys took a step closer to me, helping to shield me from the other’s view.

“Her Phoenix did not rise, however. Without the help of family or the Council, her Phoenix remained subdued, only able to lend enough power to her to help her to live through the abuse rather than protect her.” My Phoenix hissed in my head, and I mimicked the noise. How dare he speak poorly of my Phoenix? Without her, I would be dead dozens of times over. “Only fate had her moving to Alaska to start college here. As she came to realize what she was, to allow her Phoenix to rise under the direction of strong mythologicals, the offender followed her. Again refusing to follow his duties to the Council, he continued to hunt her. He killed her again.” Cries of appall rippled from some throats, followed by shouts of disgust and anger.

“While we would have preferred finding out immediately about her when other shifters on campus recognized what she was,” Councilman Lacroix interrupted, “the shifters who found her tried to take on protection duties of their new friend. While the effort is commendable, we encourage each one of you to remember that we are here to help. You may not know some of the nuances of protection. There may be circumstances at play you are unaware of. We encourage all of you to come to us with problems. Even if you think you're protecting someone, let us help. It is our duty to all of you.” The smile on his face was soft as he viewed the room, looking from face to face. Murmurs of approval surrounded his words, and several people stepped forward, as if they needed to be closer to him to feel his words.

Councilman Khan continued, ignoring the interruption and the mild scolding of my men. I had been angry before, but now I wanted to scream. To publicly humiliate my men? For doing exactly what I had asked them to do? For being the best friends anyone could ever have? How dare they think they knew what was best in every situation.

Steady, sweetheart. Damien called out. I think they’re trying to get a reaction from you. Keep your walls strong. My father is keeping a general shield over the room making it harder for me to get information but I’m close. He’ll be doing the same searching I’m doing. Don’t give him anything he may have to disclose to the other members. He takes his duty seriously.

I tried to draw a deep breath without moving my chest. I needed the air to keep me calm, but I couldn't let my body give me away any more than I could let my thoughts give me away. I had to appear as solid, confident, and collected as my guys. A quick glance showed that they all maintained cool masks. It was odd seeing the nearly bored expression painted on Ryder’s face.

Do what I do, picture them naked. You’ll be incredibly bored—and fairly disgusted. Ryder’s teasing voice filled my head, though I could hear the strain in it.

“When she recovered from the shooting, he again made an attempt on her life. This time with illegally obtained Vish Kanya venom.” People reeled, most of the room now turning to gape at me, standing solidly in front of the dais. “Her special skills allowed her to do what almost none have ever done—survive. The offender managed to escape and ran from justice like the coward he is. Councilman Ishida? Nix?”

The Councilman waived his hands, drawing Michael forward. Pressure at my back from Hiro’s warm hand had me moving forward. Michael and I were both only steps from the thrones. Councilman Ishida took his seat, his outstretched hand maintaining a soft glow, I assumed locking Michael in place.

“Now, it is the time for judgment. Annika Coxx, do you see the man who claimed to be your father? Who abused you and attempted to murder you on multiple occasions?” Councilman Rahal’s voice was harsh, echoing loudly in comparison to Councilman Khan’s soft speech.

Point him out, Nix. Theo’s voice was almost a warning. It’s considered your duty, or you’ll be lying to the Council.

“Councilman Rahal, yes, I do. Michael Coxx, right there.” I pointed at Michael, not wanting to turn and face him directly.

“Please note that the man identified as Michael Coxx is actually Henri Gagnon. He is a part-blood shifter. He has been identified by both the oppressed as well as multiple witnesses. Once we were made aware of the situation, we were able to quickly find and apprehend the perpetrator. Our research has shown that all charges against him are accurate as stated. Therefore, in front of the shifter community, this Council will now pass judgment.”

“Henri Gagnon. You have been charged with murder, attempted murder, treason, conspiring against mythologicals, child endangerment, child abuse, and assault. Councilman Ishida will now lift the wards surrounding you so that you can answer the charges and make any pleas on your own behalf to us at this time. Note that while the bonds on your person will be released, the barriers that surround this dais and this room will remain in full effect. There is no escape and, one way or another, you will answer for your crimes.”

When the Council had begun talking, I didn’t think they would startle me. Piss me off, hurt me, betray me with the easy revelation of my story—absolutely. Startle me? I didn’t think there was anything that really would. All of these years, and I hadn’t even known his name. The name that had haunted my dreams, made me cringe when I saw it on the page or heard it from the mouth of an actor or acquaintance, had all been as fake as the life we had been living. Would that fear change? Would the name Henri now evoke the same visceral reaction? Would the name Michael lose that?

I tried to focus on the man standing only a few feet from me, both afraid to look in his direction and yet, needing to see this all the way through. Due to the inference of the Council’s statement, I assumed an execution was upcoming. Part of me was thrilled at that idea. I had often imagined him being punished for his crimes against me, dreamt of him experiencing a fraction of the pain that he had put me through, living with the same fear I had. Still, a part of me dreaded the idea as well. If I pushed for his execution, watched it—or worse, enjoyed it—didn’t that make me just as bad as him?

He had clearly lost weight since the last time I had seen him. A frame that, while muscled, was always heavy due to alcohol, was now nearly emaciated. Though no marks were visible on his body, he held himself as if he was in pain—a posture I was very familiar with. His eyes were shadowed in a face that was edging towards gaunt and covered by a thick layer of stubble.

His eyes flitted first to the room surrounding him—a trapped animal looking for an escape route. Seeing none, he began searching for a sympathetic face in the audience that surrounded us. No one stepped up to his defense, calling for mercy as he so obviously anticipated. His eyes crossed my face briefly, and he looked away before any connection could be made. Was that fear of me? Or of the men standing sentry at my back?

Slowly, as if fighting a heavy weight, he straightened his spine and slowly met the eyes of each council member. “You’ve had me for days.” I reared back slightly, only barely managing to contain my reaction. They’d had him all this time? I’d been worrying for days needlessly. Killian was growling softly and my other guys were just as tense, striving not to radiate their anger and frustration.

“You know why I did what I did. You will use any excuse to take your fucked up idea of revenge. Get it over with. We all know why you’re doing it.” Michael began to rev up, and I couldn’t hold completely still, my muscles shaking as memories ran through my head. When he would rev up like this is when the beating would get extremely bad. “You all know that you’re not the protective body you pretend you are. You’re in this for your own selfish, twisted-”

I saw Councilman Ishida’s eyes narrow as the prisoner’s words cut off, but it was Councilman Lacroix who stepped forward to speak. “Enough. We did not remove your wards to hear your dribble. We removed them so you could make a request. If you do not have an appeal to make, we will sentence you now.” Michael—Henri?—remained sullenly silent as he stared at the councilman.

Damien stiffened beside me, his arms shaking as he appeared to force himself into calm. Damien, what’s wrong? Hiro’s words drew the attention of all the guys to our protective Gargoyle. While his stance before had been solid, he appeared to be struggling to stay on his feet and working hard to hide it from our audience. His skin—usually a lush olive—was now nearly grey with a thin layer of sweat covering it.

Damien! Ryder’s voice was worried. I’ll interrupt this, I swear to God. What the hell is going on?!

He knew him. Shock and despair were evident in the words. It’s why he was shielding so hard. He knew Michael.

Damn it, D, you’re not making sense. Kill growled.

Damien’s shattered and empty eyes met mine, wide and horrified. My father knew Michael. He’s known him for years. God, Nix, I’m so sorry.

I froze, my eyes locked on Damien’s. They knew each other? Damien’s father and Michael? One of the other Council members I could understand. That twisted Councilman Maldonado seemed as though he was cut from the same cloth. Not Damien's father, though, the gentle and protective father, the one whom Damien worshipped.

There could be a mistake, Damien. Trust Theo to try and logic us out of the situation. Don’t overthink it yet. You could be misunderstanding what you’re seeing. Let us help you with it. Now is not the time. Compartmentalize. If it is true, he cannot know that we know. All of you. Hold your walls and keep them up. You know they always look for cracks. Don’t give them one.

“Henri Gagnon. You chose not to plead your case. No one here will speak for you. This Council judges you as guilty. You are sentenced to death.” Murmurs of approval sounded from the crowd, and I swallowed back both the disgust and the glee that rose like bile in my throat. I hated myself.

Councilman Maldonado rose from his seat, the elegance of his tuxedo not able to hide the savage anticipation in his movements or the feral joy of the smirk that crossed his lips.

“Councilman Khan.” Ryder’s speaking voice, rather than his mind voice, surprised me enough that I turned to look at where he had moved forward, drawing the eyes of the gathering to him. “As citizens, we honor the decision of the Council; however, we do have a plea.”

“You wish for leniency?” The shocked question came from Councilman Ishida.

Ryder shook his head, spreading his hands in a flowing gesture. “I ask for leniency, not for the convicted, but for Nix. She has already witnessed enough in the way of violence in her life. While she cannot—and would not—choose to be spared from all violence in her future, as her friend and a party more versed in the laws and traditions of our culture, I request leniency on her behalf in the method of execution.” He shot a glance at Councilman Maldonado when his growl began to build. “It is tradition under our law that crimes of this order be punished under the old laws and without mercy to the extent of pain or time of death. I ask that the Council override this decision. Please allow Councilman Williams to complete the execution. His method is clean and has no true outward signs of violence. It would be a better psychological step for Nix than seeing the…” He paused as if trying to find a word that was emphatic, yet respectful “… the carnage of other methods.”

Councilman Maldonado was shaking with anger, his glare on Ryder. Surprising me, it was Councilman Rahal who stepped forward, laying a restraining hand on the Manananggal’s arm. “The boy is correct, Santiago. While punishing her abuser will give her some sense of completion for that stage of her life, doing so in an incredibly violent manner and forcing her to watch it will not help anyone. Our goal is to protect our people, that includes protecting them from emotional discomfort as well.”

Councilman Maldonado’s lips were drawn back tightly over teeth that had begun to elongate, but he did not resist his friend’s hand. He allowed himself to be led back to his throne, though he appeared unable to prevent the rolling snarl from spilling continuously from his lips. When he turned around and took his seat upon his throne, his eyes were pure darkness. It was Councilman Williams’ turn to step forward, drawing my gaze. His tux was cut tighter than the rest of his companions, the material slicker and more defined. He moved with grace in it, apparently feeling no restrictions from the tight fabrics, severe cut, and formal attire. “Henri Gagnon. I do not take a life easily. It is one of the duties of the Council, and one I will perform. This death is a far easier one than the one you deserve. Be grateful for that.”

He stepped from the dais, striding until he was face to face with Michael—no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t think of him as Henri. I remained frozen where I was, knowing I was required to watch, wanting nothing more than to run. Why did I have to leave one world full of violence only to find myself in another? Michael tried to avoid the slender hands that reached for his chin to no avail. Their grip on him was firm and sure as Councilman Williams turned him until their eyes met. They stared into each other’s eyes for a minute, then two, like lovers who had been apart for years. Then, without a sound from either, Michael slumped to the floor. I clenched my hands into fists, wanting to pierce the skin with my nails, let the pain center me, but not wanting to draw the attention of an already hungry Manananggal.

Councilman Lacroix stepped forward, an air of disappointment in his posture, a small resigned smile on his lips. “Justice has been enacted. Our laws upheld. Go in peace, friends.” He lifted his hands in a gentle gesture of farewell and returned to the dais. The crowd happily obliged his instructions, slowly streaming out, a laughing, chattering, cheerful mob who acted as though a life hadn’t just been ended right before their eyes.

“Annika,” He motioned for me to come forward, which meant we all went because the guys wouldn’t leave my side—for which I was grateful. I gritted my teeth, upset and ready to go home, but I forced my legs to move, avoiding looking in the dead part-blood’s direction. I swallowed down the bile that had risen, worried about what they could want with me now and confused about Damien’s proclamation just minutes earlier. I needed to get him out of here before all hell broke loose. I was mad, upset, confused, and scared out of my damn mind as I stood before the imposing Council seated on their thrones. Damien’s father turned his attention in our direction, and I made sure my wall was in place to block him from picking up on my distrust. I felt Damien tense—nearly shaking—as he stood an inch behind me near my right shoulder. I just needed to get through this and get us out of this room—away from this island. “The Council has spoken regarding your living arrangements.” We all tensed more than we already had been—if that was even possible. I hadn’t expected them to have convened so quickly about the matter. I thought I might have months, or at least weeks before they called me back to talk about this again. Panic swirled inside of me as I waited for this last slap across the face. “We have decided to let you remain with Damien, Hiro, Ryder, Theo, and Killian.” Relief swamped me, and I gave them as serene a nod as I could. I wanted to pat myself on the back for my acting skills—amateur as they may be. It was the best I could manage given everything that had already taken place within this room. “However, changes must be made to ensure your safety going forward. This threat may be passed—this fire snuffed out—but there are always others lurking in the smoke.” My mouth was drawn tight as I nodded again, wondering if he could be one of them. I tamped down the thought immediately. Not only did I not want to risk the Council finding out about my traitorous thoughts, but I didn’t want Damien to pick up on them either. Not now.

However, it was Councilman Williams who spoke next, his voice hard, demanding that we listen and heed his orders. “The boys have, to this point, refused help in creating barriers around their house. If you will consent to a barrier and continued use of extra protection for you, the Council will consent to Annika staying in your home. She is under your protection.” He eyed each one of the guys, and I shivered from the threat his eyes posed. I’d seen him kill with those very eyes. The proof was lying in a crumpled heap just a few feet behind me and to my left.

“We consent,” Damien spoke for the group.

“If anything happens to her, it will be on your heads.” Councilman Rahal’s words were clipped as he let their weight settle in. “She is not only a rare mythological shifter, but she is also a female of breeding age. As she is the only phoenix shifter we know about, she is extremely valuable to our society. We try to keep shifters from going extinct, and your species is precariously close to that edge… Do you understand what I am saying Nix?” I appreciated his use of my preferred name, but I hated the words coming out of his mouth. I nodded my agreement though because there wasn’t any other choice.

“With that in mind, we would like to extend an invitation to Nix to be our guest at our upcoming Gala to be held in a few weeks. Your attendance is required—all of you.” Williams waited for our agreement. I wasn’t sure what was so crucial about the Gala, but luckily I’d have time to ask the guys. I’d get to stay with them. We had time. As the Council dismissed us, I turned the wrong way and caught sight of Michael.

“Let’s go home.” Hiro’s voice was soft in my ear. I pulled my attention back to my guys, away from the body that was sprawled like a broken mannequin on the floor. Killian and Ryder framed Damien, their touch on his shoulder and back a light, but solid presence. Theo and Hiro mimicked the posture, framing me as we withdrew from the room.

I reached out to take Damien’s hand, our fingers intertwined as I met each of their eyes one by one. “Yes, let’s go home.” I wasn’t sure what our next step would be, what Damien had seen, or how I felt about being part of a world that revelled in death; whatever would happen next, though, would happen together, and that’s what mattered. I would keep our family strong, no matter what the cost.