Ryder tensed next to me. I guess he hadn’t expected the god to be quite so straight-forward. Luckily for me, this wasn’t my first tango.
“Not guilty. Also, I refute your claim to prosecute me or my blood outside of the boundaries of Ordinary on a matter involving Ordinary and the deities and creatures within it, of which you have no standing authority over.”
“I have every right to punish those who break contract, those who break law, those who break truth.”
“You are a god. But I am not bound to worship you. None of my family is.”
“The Reeds once chose to do right. Once chose to uphold oaths, defend the law.” Mithra put some power behind those words. Enough that if I were only a mortal, I would probably be quaking from the intense need to bow to his will.
Good thing I was a Reed, and not so easily swayed by god power.
“We still do that. I have a shiny police badge to prove it.” I gave him a smile.
He did not look amused.
Ryder was silent, but I could tell from the tension rolling off him that he might be rethinking his “there are no gods” thing. God power was a little hard to ignore even when the deity wasn’t trying to prove a point.
“You have failed to uphold the contracts of Ordinary.”
“When?”
“The god Raven took up his power and left Ordinary.”
Shit. Yep. I knew where this was going.
“In doing so, no contract was broken. Do you agree?”
I knew that there would be no lying to Mithra. He had a keen eye for the truth. It was sort of his thing.
That and seeing that justice—his brand of justice—was done.
“Yes, I agree Raven taking up his power outside Ordinary was not a breach of contract.”
“He was allowed to return to Ordinary. You allowed him.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Is that true, Delaney?”
“Yes,” I grit out.
“He then relinquished his power into safe keeping. Yes?”
“Yes.”
“He became once again the mortal Crow and resided within Ordinary. Is still there now.”
“Yes.”
“Must I repeat the contract of your land back to you, Delaney Reed? Must I remind you of the sacred covenant you have given to all gods, mortal, and creatures when you took up the mantle as the Eldest Reed and guardian of all those within Ordinary?”
“No.”
“Then you admit to your guilt?”
“I admit to nothing of the kind. What you said is true. It happened. And yes, I know what the contract with Ordinary entails. I admit to no guilt.”
He paused and those deep, watery eyes held the kind of edge that could cut through bone.
