Bishop huffed. “We can get our own justice.”
“I’ll rephrase: I can help you get the kind of justice that won’t end with you buried next to whoever killed your wife and sister. Which is the penalty for murder, in every US shifter territory.”
“We know who killed her,” Bishop insisted. “And we don’t give a shit about your laws and consequences. We don’t recognize your authority.”
“Oh really?” I glanced at Austin and found him frowning. Staring at his lap. “Well, that won’t stop our laws and consequences from applying to you.” I leaned over my desk, pinning Bishop with my focus. “I’m trying to save your life, Mr. Mattheson.”
“I don’t give a shit about my life,” he growled, and his response came so quickly that there couldn’t possibly have been any real thought behind it. He was a hothead, to be sure. A man who spoke and acted before he thought. But he was also mired in deep, dark pain.
I nodded. “Fair enough. But do you care abouthislife?” I asked with a glance at Austin. “You two are close, right? You live together. You married his sister. I’m guessing it was a tight little family.” And that with Yvette gone and the human world at arm’s length, the two of them probably felt like they had nothing left but each other. “You’re like brothers, right?”
Austin nodded. Bishop’s jaw clenched so hard I could hear his bones creak.
“So, are you willing to get your brother killed in your quest for revenge? Because I’m offering you an alternative. Justice for Yvette. Execution for her murderer. And a chance for both of you to heal and, eventually, to move on.”
Bishop glared at me across the desktop. “We don’t want to move on.”
“Of course, you don’t. Not yet. But I know from experience that there’s only so long a person can exist in this heightened state of rage and pain. It isn’t sustainable, because whether you want it to or not, time blunts every impact. It blurs memories and eases pain, and eventually, while you’ll never forget Yvette, youwillbegin to remember yourselves. To live again. And that isn’t a betrayal of her.” I glanced at Austin again, then my gaze resettled on Bishop. “In fact, I’m guessing that’s what she’d want for both of you.”
Tucker gave me a small head shake from behind them, silently advising me that they weren’t ready to hear this yet. And he was right. No one in the grip of grief wants to hear that their pain will fade. That they will someday choose to move on.
“Let me help you,” I said, switching gears. “Let me put my resources to work for you and keep you on Titus’s good side. On the Territorial Council’s good side.”
“We don’t give a shit about—”
“Bishop,” Austin said. And I could tell from his tone alone that I was right about him. That a man who’d dedicated his career to working within the legal system for justice would respect that same process on the shifter side of things.
At least, as long as it worked in his favor.
Austin turned back to me. “You’re not going to sideline us.”
I shook my head. “Wouldn’t dream of it. In fact, I’m assuming you have resources that we don’t. My suggestion is that we pool our respective resources to the benefit of us all. We have a vested interest in finding Yvette’s killer as well.”
“Obviously, we can’t have someone like that on the loose in our territory,” Vance said.
“Then hand Nolan Blake over to us,” Bishop growled. “And we’ll solve all your problems.”
“There’s a process,” Austin said.
“Fuck their process.”
I exhaled, fighting for patience. “If you live in this territory, it’s your process too.”
“I don’t recognize your auth—”
“Irrelevant,” I snapped. “Those who don’t recognize the authority of the US government are still expected to follow the law. To pay taxes. It’s the same for us. If you don’t want to follow our rules, leave our territory. That’s the last time I’m going to say that. The next time you even hint that you intend to break our laws, I’ll have you escorted straight to the border. If you’re lucky.”
“If you’re not, we’ll hand you over to Titus,” Tucker added. “Good luck hunting your wife’s killer from a cell in his basement.”
Bishop’s brows furrowed as he glared at me. But he kept his mouth shut.
I leaned back in my chair. “Well, if that’s settled, I have a few more questions before we submit our official report.”
Austin nodded. “Go ahead.”
“First of all, when did this happen?” I asked as I pulled a notebook and pen from my top desk drawer.
“About three months ago,” Bishop said.
