My head snaps up just as Dyad stops talking and Gremory prepares to pound his gavel again and end this trial once and for all.
I step forward, but Rogan keeps an arm draped over my shoulder protectively. “Wait,” I cry out before the gavel can meet the dark wood of the lectern.
Gremory groans, looking thoroughly pissed. And the High Priestess’s shrewd eyes narrow at me.
“What the fuck is it now?” Gremory snaps, but I’m too fucking shocked and excited by what I just discovered to let it get to me.
“You said that the next in line inherited their contracts, is that correct?” I ask, gesturing to the High Council members, who have already turned to leave.
“Yes, now fuck off already,” he growls, raising the gavel again.
“Sorry, just a couple more questions,” I rush to add, and he shoots me a glare that threatens to burn me alive if I don’t shut the fuck up.
I’m not cowed.
“Each of the High Council members lied in their contracts with Botis and then also violated the Accords; isn’t that going to be dealt with?” I demand, and Rogan gives me a warning squeeze around my shoulders as Dyad also shoots me a glare.
“Yes, we’ve already established that the consequences will be determined by Botis’s next in line. The heir can decide if they want to call in the contracts early or simply assign a penalty,” Dyad announces, annoyed.
“Either way, that has nothing to do with you, Osteomancer,” the High Priestess snaps. “Are we done here?” she demands, already skirting Botis’s bones to leave. “And before you get too excited, I’ve already ensured that Botis was the last of his line,” Sorrel tells me, a vicious smirk painted on her face. I can practically see the wheels turning in her mind as she already starts to plot and plan her next move.
My smile grows wider, and victory sings in my veins as I look up at the three High Demons. “Then, as Botis’s next in line and the new owner of the High Council members’ contracts, I’d like to call inmycontracts early,” I inform them evenly, my head high and my heart screaming with excitement.
That’s checkmate, you evil cunt.
23
Outrage and shock bombard me from all angles. And maybe it’s all this new demon magic that I just inherited, but I’m feeling smug as fuck.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Dyad snarls.
Sorrel looks at me as though I’ve lost my mind. “That’s not possible,” she declares dismissively.
Rogan just looks at me, stunned, his gaze dropping to my feet as he makes the same connection I just did.
The High Priestess sneers at me as though she’s calling what she thinks is my bluff. I don’t say anything, perfectly happy to let her think she’s about to walk out of here. The Crone knows, Sorrel Adair has fucked with me enough times for me to appreciate the importance of dangling the carrot and then snatching it away at the last possible moment.
Unfortunately for them, the carrot I’m dangling is their souls, and there’s absolutely zero chance that they’ll be leaving anywhere with those anymore. The High Priestess doesn’t get that yet, but she will. Soon.
She turns on her heel and motions for the other two to follow her as she tries to leave. I turn calmly to Dyad, my eyes icy and commanding.
“I am Botis’s next in line. His transference of power occurred at the precise moment he died. If you don’t believe me, check, I don’t care,” I tell him evenly. “But I suggest you stop them from leaving,” I add, gesturing to the High Council members, “or I’ll personally hold you responsible for allowing three souls that I own to escape,” I threaten, eyeing the High Demons, officially done with all the bullshit.
They wanted to play when I was just a lowly Osteomancer, let’s see how well they do with a level playing field.
Dyad debates for all of two seconds. Oddly, I feel the moment Sorrel and the others call on whatever magic brought them here. It’s not a ley line, but close. I didn’t feel it before, but I certainly do now. Interesting.
“Stop!” Dyad orders, and the High Priestess extends a murderous look at him for the command.
“You can’t be serious. What? Do High Demons now entertain every impossible and ridiculous claim that crosses their paths these days? Maybe you have time to waste, but I certainly don’t,” she snaps at him, and I can’t help but smile when a strand of white hair falls in her face.
Awww, is the High Priestess feeling a little flustered?
Rogan watches everything with a stoic, guarded expression, and I wish more than anything I could feel what he’s feeling right now.
“If you make one more move to leave after you’ve been ordered to stay, I will consider it an act of war. Think very carefully, High Priestess, about whether you have time to deal withthat,” Dyad snarks, and if I didn’t hate his guts, I’d be offering him anoh snap.
Sorrel practically snarls and pushes the errant strand of hair out of her face with such force I’m surprised she doesn’t just rip the traitorous thing from her scalp altogether. I look over at Rogan’s dad, whose name I can never remember, and wonder if the man ever talks or reacts to anything. I suspect his wife might have had him lobotomized at some point, but who the fuck knows. Bordow, however, looks like he has a better understanding of the severity of the situation. His olive skin is waxy, and his eyes dart around the room like he’s waiting for the shadows to come and eat him.
