Succubus Revealed Chapter 18

The blackness began to lighten into swirls of color, colors t assume thus fartu solelyy obdurate into lines and shapes around me. I gazed around as the world formed and short entangle up solidity be fith my feet. My own embody was taking on substance again, the light and hollow sensation disappearing. Feeling and movement returned to me, and for half(prenominal)(pre no.inal) a second, I thought I had imagined e genuinely(prenominal)thing that happened in the parking pickle. thus I was struck by a sudden and oerwhelming sentience of wrongness.First off, as I blinked the world into focus, it became obvious that I was no longer at the bowling alley. I was inside a board with vaulted ceilings and no windows. It appeared to be a dallyroom, complete with a control board box and judges domiciliate. all in all the decor was black red-veined black marble on the walls and floor, black wood trim, black leather chairs. Everything was very sleek and modern, refined and sterile.T he next thing I noticed was that I wasnt in the body Id dear been in. My perspective on the world was from a greater height. The weight down of my limbs and muscles snarl different too, and I wore a simple linen sever instead of my Unholy Rollers shirt. Although I couldnt pick up myself straight-on, I had a near(a) idea which body I was draining the first wiz. My mortal one. The one Id been born to.Yet it was neither the body nor unfamiliar room that mat up so wrong. They were surprises, yes, simply zip fastener I couldnt adapt to. The wrongness came from nothing tangible. It was more a feeling in the air, a sensation that permeated my every pore. Even with the vaulted ceilings, the room felt stuffy and tight, like in that location was no air circulation whatsoever. And in time though t present wasnt both accredited odor, I just kept imagining stagnation and decay. My skin crawled. I felt sm oppositeed by hot, humid air yet was also chilled to the bone.I was in sna ke pit.I had never been thither, alone you didnt really need to go for been to know it.I was sitting at a t open on the left side of the room, facing the judges bench. Behind me, separated by a railing, was the audience seating. I squirmed around to peer at it. Right forward my look, mess began to materialize in the seats. They were wildly different in bearing male and female, all races, various states of dress. Some were as prim and neat as the courtroom around us. Some looked like it had been quite an trial by ordeal for them to get hold of out of bed. at that place was no uniformity to their appearances. There werent even immortal auras to tip me off, but I was willing to wager eitherthing that they were all dickenss.A murmur of conversation began to fill the room as the demons speak to each other, a droning almost more frightening than the privateness that had originally met me. No one talked to me, though plenty of sets of eyes analyse me disapprovingly. I didnt re cognize anyone here yet and felt vulnerable and afraid. There was an discharge seat next to me, and I windered if someone would be link me. Was I entitled to a attorney for this . . . whatever it was? It had all the trappings of a regular courtroom, but I could hardly expect Hell to be reasonable or predictable. I honestly had no clue what was about to happen. I knew it had to be about my contract, but Hugh hadnt gone into a lot of specifics when hed express that my case would eventually be reviewed.There was a table on the right side of the courtroom, one that mirrored tap in size and placement. A man with irongray hair and a handlebar mustache sat down at it, placing a briefcase on the tables surface. He wore an all-black courting including the shirt and looked more like a funeral director than a prosecutor, which is what I assumed he was. As though sensing my scrutiny, he glanced over at me with eyes so aristocratical, I couldnt verbalise where pupil end and iris be gan. They sent a new chill through me, and I changed my assessment of him. Funeral director? More like an executioner.Once the gallery was approximately full of spectators, a side door near the front control surfaceed. dozen people filed out toward the jurors box, and I caught my breath. I still couldnt sense any immortal auras in this room. Maybe it wasnt necessary in Hell or maybe there were just too many immortals in here for it to be comfortable. Regardless, just as Id been certain all the spectators were demons, I could tell that half of the jurors were angels. It was in their eyes and their disposition. There was a way they carried themselves that differed from everyone else, even though the angels were dressed no differently. Also, the angels seemed to be conscious of the wrongness Id felt in here. They kept glancing around, small looks of disgust on their faces. At first, it seemed mixed bag of crazy that angels would be in Hell, but then I accomplished that, impertine nt Heaven, there were no gates or barriers to keep anyone out. And unlike mortals, angels had the ability to leave here when they chose. I suppose it make it wanton to do business visits like this. Still, I found myself heartened by the batch of the angels. If they were departure to be involved in deciding my case, then sure enough they would be sympathetic.Dont count on any help from them.It was the prosecuting demon with the dark eyes, leaning across his table and addressing me in a low voice.I beg your pardon? I asked.He inclined his head toward the jurors. The angels. Theyve got a nagging sense of justice, but they also dont generate a lot of sympathy to those who sold their souls. They figure you made your bed, you have to sleep in it. Pretentious bastards, the lot of them.I turned buns toward the jury and felt a sinking in my stomach. Some of the angels were watching me, and although there wasnt open disdain on their faces, like the demons, I could still see disdainfuln ess and scorn here and there. I saw no sympathy anywhere.With so much chatter in the now-crowded room, it was hard to imagine being able to single out any one voice but I did. Maybe it was because it was one Id grown so familiar with in the dwell ten years, one that I had fallen into the habit of jumping to whenever it spoke. watering my gaze from the jury, I peered around until I found the voices owner.Sure enough. Jerome had just entered the courtroom. Even in Hell, he still wore the John Cusack guise. Mei was with him, and it was the reasoned of their conversation that had caught my attention. They made their way to some seats near the front, on the opposite side of the room from me, that I presumed had been left open for them. A pang of relief shot through my chest. Finally, familiar faces. I undetermined my mouth to speak, to call out to Jerome . . . just as his eyes swing on me. He paused in his walk, fixing me with a look that pierce straight to my heart. Then, without any other form of acknowledgment, he looked away and act his conversation with Mei as they went to their seats. The words died on my lips. The coldness in his gaze left no question that all the laid-back allay at the bowling alley had been a scam.Jerome was not on my side.And, if my drop off table was any indication, no one was on my side.A goof in a much more cheerful suit than the prosecutor walked to the front of the room and called the court to order. He announced the entrance of value Hannibal, which would have been a hilarious and absurd name in other circumstances. Everyone stood, and I followed suit. The show of respect kind of surprised me. The adherence to surgical process did not.Judge Hannibal entered through a door opposite the jurys. For a moment, I simply thought, Hes so young. Then, I remembered I was thinking like a human. No one in this room except me wore their actual form. All of them were beings of incalculable age, and the twenty-something, blond surfe r appearance of Judge Hannibal was just window dressing.He flashed everyone a spectacular grin, perfect white teeth stand out against his tanned skin. He riffled through some papers in front of him. All right, he tell. So, what . . . we have a contract feud with a succubus? Letha? He glanced around, like there was some big mystery about who I was. His gaze landed on me, and he nodded to himself. Whos prosecuting? You? Marcel?Yes, your honor, tell the dark-suited demon.Judge Hannibal chuckled. This is even less fair than it already was. He glanced back at me. You got a lawyer, honey?I swallowed. Er, no. I dont think so. Should I? Do . . . do I get assigned one?He shrugged. We could dredge some imp up if you dont want to defend yourself. Or we can buoy summon someone, if youve got anyone in mind.At the mention of an imp, Hughs name immediately popped up in my head. I wouldnt have even cared about the defense aspect. I just wanted to see a friendly face here. Was it that easy? I could just ask, and theyd cultivate Hugh here . . . to Hell? As soon as I had the thought, I dismissed it. Hugh had already risked so much for me. How could I ask him to stand against our superiors, to defend me against all those cold, glaring eyes? And what good could baffle of it? Hed credibly get in more trouble if I actually won which didnt seem likely, judging from Hannibals earlier comments.I was on the verge of apprisal them Id just defend myself when there was an explosion of light in the gangway beside me. I leaped to my feet in fear and wasnt alone in doing so. A cyclone of smooth-spoken and white light slowly coalesced into a familiar and very welcome form Carter. Like everyone else, a day in court appeared to make no difference for how he dressed save that he was wearing the cashmere hat Id gotten him last Christmas. Glancing up at the judge, Carter took off the hat and held it before him in an attempt at respect. I wanted to work myself sobbing into his arms.What is this? demanded Judge Hannibal. Those who had been startled slinked back to their seats. Sorry, said Carter amiably. I wouldve come in the normal way but didnt know how else to get her lawyer in.Was Carter difference to be my lawyer? Hope sprang anew within me until another(prenominal) burst of light erupted beside him . . . and papistic appeared.Chaos of a different sort broke out, and suddenly, I was a sideshow. Outrage shone on angel and demon faces alike. Half the room was on its feet. I hadnt been able to sense any immortal auras, but I could feel the swell of power bursting from near every individual as they advanced on popish.NephilimDestroy himWe were on the verge of a full-fledged mob attack when Hannibal banged his gavel on the desk. It made a sound like thunder, hitting hard. A palpable fluctuate of power radiated out from him, nearly knocking a few people off their feet. The growing magic in the room dissipated.Sit down, he snapped. This is hardly the time or pla ce for everyone to start playing hero.Theres a nephilim in the room protested someone in the back.Yes, yes. Thank you, Captain Obvious, said Judge Hannibal. And I daresay the hundred or so of us can take him if he gets out of line. Thats not in question. What is, however, is why hes here and shouldnt be immediately smote. That was directed to Carter.Hes her lawyer, said Carter.Hannibals eyebrows rose in true surprise, with no sign of his earlier smugness. A nephilim?There are no rules against it, said Carter mildly. Any immortal can serve, right?Hannibal glanced uneasily at a woman seated at a corner desk who had been type away steadily on a laptop. Id taken her for the court reporter, but she was apparently some sort of consultant too. She made a face.Technically, he can serve, she said. Our laws dont specify.But they do specify that anyone the defendant chooses is exempt from penalisation, said Carter, as cagey as any lawyer.A cruel grimace played at her lips. Whoever is summon ed to serve as lawyer is exempt from punishment during court and afterward when they return to their normal jobs. Im guessing this . . . creature is not in our personnel files.With Hell, the devil really was in the details. Hugh had always warned me to be careful with even the smallest wordings because Hell would use them to its advantage. It took me a moment to to the full get why she was so pleased. Any immortal could serve as a lawyer in a case like this, it seemed. And, going on the first part of what shed said, no one could do anything to popish while he was my lawyer, despite the normal immortal reaction to directly destroy all nephilim. There would be no mass smiting in the courtroom. It was the second part of her words that was tricky. Those drafted as lawyers allegedly couldnt be penalize for their legal performances when they returned to their regular duties, which wouldve been good to know when I was considering summoning Hugh (though I knew there were a million subtl e ways a dissatisfied demon could still get back at someone on the sly).But Roman didnt have any regular duties for Hell, aside from an summary deal with Jerome that I had no doubt my archdemon would disavow all cognition of. Roman couldnt be protected when he went back to work because he didnt work for Hell. The instant this trial ended and he was out of the subprogram of lawyer, he was subject to the whims of Hell.Well, said Hannibal. He looked down at me. At least itll make this case more interesting. Sure, whatever. You want the nephilim as your lawyer?I wanted to say no. Some part of me half hoped that if I refused and Roman never became my lawyer, he would be free of the vengeance that awaited him afterward, that he could simply escape now. Except, as I glanced amidst him and Carter, a terrible certainty settled over me. It didnt matter if Roman became my lawyer or not. He wasnt getting out of here. It was reflected in Romans eyes as they met mine. When Carter had brought h im here, it was a one-way trip. If I didnt accept him as my lawyer, I was simply speeding Roman to his death.I nodded and felt my heart pitching as I sealed his fate. Er, yes. Yes, your honor. Id like him as my lawyer.There was a murmur of disapproval throughout the courtroom. Carter slapped Roman encouragingly on the back and then went to find a seat in the gallery. Roman took the empty chair beside me. He was a sharp contrast to Marcel. Roman had no briefcase, not even a single piece of paper, and was still wearing the clothes hed had on earlier jeans and a sweater.What are you doing? I hissed to him, gratifying for the cover of the other voices. This is suicideYou didnt really think Id abandon you to them, did you? he asked. And who knows your case better than me?Theyll kill you when its over, whether I win or lose.Roman gave me a lopsided smile. It is a far, far better thing that I do Oh, shut the fuck up, I said, afraid I was going to start crying. Youre an idiot. You shou ldnt have come here.You remember our talk about propose and meaning? he asked me, the smile disappearing. Well, I think this might be mine. I think this is what I was meant to do, Georgina.Roman But there was no time for any more conversation. Judge Hannibal was banging the gavel this time, sans thunder move to calm everyone down. They were still worked up about the idea of a nephilim locomote freely in their midst.Enough, enough, Hannibal said. I know were all shocked and awed, but get over it. Well deal with him later. If theres no more drama in store, do you mind if we get started? He glanced between the lawyers.Im ready when you are, your honor, said Marcel.Roman nodded. Lets do this.