Caleb arched a defiant brow at him. “State property? My tax dollars bought this car then. Doesn’t that make it
my
property?”
“Oh, that’s it, you little punk.” The cop went for Caleb.
Caleb scoffed. “C’mon, really? What are you charging me with?”
“Vandalism.”
Caleb rolled his eyes, then shouted out to their classmates. “Come, see the violence inherent in the system! Help! I’m being repressed!”
“Get your ass in the car!” the cop snarled, his Yat accent coming out full force.
They put Caleb in on the other side.
Nick gaped at him. “What are you doing?”
Caleb glanced askance at the cops as they called in his arrest. “Where you go, I go, Gautier. And there’s no way you’re going into a jail without backup. You’re about to find out why Adarian lives in a prison.”
Nick wasn’t sure what to think of that, other than the fact his father was a mass murderer. “What do you mean?”
The cops opened the doors and got in.
There are some things that defy explanation—kind of like … you know,
you
. Not to mention your loco mindset when you did whatever it was that you did when you saved Kody, or why the color of the dryer lint always matches the color of your missing sock.
He projected his answer to Nick’s mind.
A Malachai in jail is definitely one of those inexplicable things.
Caleb turned his attention back to the police. “So what tort am I being held for again?”
They didn’t respond to Caleb. Instead the larger cop sighed irritably. “I hate the smart-mouthed kids the most.”
Caleb leaned forward in his seat. “So who’s the meanest person you’ve ever arrested?”
“What are you doing?” Nick gasped.
Caleb cracked an evil grin. “You have things you can’t resist doing. This is one that is a moral imperative to me.”
Must rankle bullies.
You’re going to get jack-slapped.
Caleb frowned at him.
Jack-slapped?
Slapped so hard you forget everything you know, i.e., you don’t know Jack … jack-slapped.
Caleb rolled his eyes.
Nick didn’t say anything else as he sat there, trying to figure out why they would think he’d raped someone when it was the most repugnant crime he could think of. Who had accused him?
And why?
When they got to the jail, they were gruffly hauled out of the car and into the building.
As soon as they stepped through the doorway, Nick saw a familiar face, but he wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Virgil Ward, attorney at law. And in Virgil’s case, blood-sucking attorney took on a whole new meaning, since he was also a vampire. His dark hair was short, but slightly shaggy. With it brushed back from his face, he didn’t appear much older than Nick or Caleb … to Nick, anyway. But Virgil managed to project a much older persona to everyone else. Those around him saw Virgil as someone in his midthirties. Dressed in a tailor-made, expensive black pinstriped suit and a pair of black Ferragamo shoes, he wore a dark purple shirt and a dark gray, purple, and black tie that had miniature skeleton bunny heads and crossed bones all over it.
“Gentlemen,” he said, inclining his head to the officers escorting them. “These are my clients. I trust you’ll take good care of them.”
The larger officer growled in frustration. “I should have known.… I suppose you want them put into the special holding section.”
“It would be prudent.”
The other officer growled again. “They’re not going to start eating each other or one of us, are they?”
Virgil laughed. “They’re not zombies, men. But one of them does have special dietary concerns you might want to note.”
The larger officer grumbled.
Virgil winked at Nick, then projected his thoughts to him.
Don’t worry, kid. I know it’s your first time here. But we’re set up to deal with our
special needs
detainees.
Special needs?
Dude, I don’t ride the short bus.
Good for you. ’Cause some days,
I
definitely do.
That was not comforting when coming out of the mouth of your attorney.
As they walked past a group of deadly-looking gangbangers, one of the bigger members lunged at Nick with a snarl as if he was going to attack him. The moment the man did, it sent an electrical charge through Nick. One that put all of his senses on high alert and made his heart race with gleeful expectation. Suddenly Nick saw and heard everything with a shocking clarity. And instead of cowering, he lunged at the gang member, wanting to taste his blood.
The man’s eyes widened, before he backed down.
Against his conscious will, Nick tried to break out of the policeman’s hold so that he could go back to the gangbanger.
Caleb cut him off. “Look at me, Nick.”
For several heartbeats, he couldn’t understand what Caleb had said.
“Nick!” he shouted.
That finally broke through the cloudy haze. “W-w-what?”
“Remember what I said about your father?”
Yeah … Nick felt it, too. Being around this many people who were corrupted by hatred and rage and violence, it was like being a wind-up toy that someone had snapped the spring in. His powers were fully charged and he felt more alive than he ever had. It was a heady concoction.
He looked at Caleb. “Do you get the same…” He wasn’t sure what to call it.
“Thrill? Not to the extent you do. That fun little nugget is unique to your species alone.”
And he was right. He totally got it now why his father stayed in prison. It was like breathing in fresh air and sunshine. Bad analogy since only an idiot would breathe in the foul body odor, urine, and vomit stench that permeated the building, but that was the closest example he could think of.
The cops took them to a special booking room that was reserved for Virgil’s clients. They were rudely searched, fingerprinted, and then photographed. Honestly, Nick wanted to cry as it brought back his one and only other arrest when he’d been a kid. And while they’d hauled him to the station in their car, they hadn’t “booked” him. It was so humiliating. He glanced over to Caleb as guilt stabbed him.
He
was the only reason Caleb was here.
God love Caleb for his loyalty.
Nick cringed as he looked down at the bright orange jumpsuit they’d forced him to change into. Heck, they’d even confiscated his shoelaces. “I’m sorry, Cale. I didn’t mean to get you into this.”
He shrugged. “Trust me, this is neither the worst nor the most humiliating thing I’ve ever gone through. And while we’re here, you should pray that this is the worst thing that ever happens to you.”
Point well taken. Still, it stung. While he hadn’t always been the best person and had done some questionable things, he’d never really thought he’d ever be arrested for real, with real felony charges that carried a hefty prison sentence if he was found guilty. That was the kind of thing that happened to people like his father and the scum his father ran with.
And now it had happened to him.
They were escorted to a room that had a single holding cell. Luckily, it was empty. The cops put them inside it, then had them hold their arms through the bars so that they could uncuff them. Once the cops were gone, Virgil came in to talk to them.
“Rape and theft, huh?”
“I didn’t do it.”
Virgil didn’t respond to his statement. “They claim they have you on surveillance.”
Nick shook his head. “It’s a lie. I didn’t do anything.”
Caleb leaned against the bars. “When did the alleged crimes occur?”
Virgil pulled out his PDA and opened a file. “The theft was late last night just before midnight at a jewelry store, where you took cash and a single necklace. And the rape occurred around 3
A.M.
Where were you at those times?”
“Home. In bed.”
Virgil made a note. “You have any witnesses?”
“No. I was in bed alone.”
“Poor you. In more ways than one. Without someone to corroborate your whereabouts … and with them having photographic evidence…” Virgil grimaced. “Look me in the eyes, kid.”
Nick did.
After a minute, Virgil blinked, then made another note. “Okay, you’re telling the truth. By the way, Nick, you have the most screwed-up life. You’re either boring as all get out, or you’re about to die. There’s no middle ground with you. You might want to work on that.”
No kidding.
“So what do you think they’ll do to him?” Caleb asked.
“I wish I had a better answer for you, but … It all depends on who our judge is. We can have his mom say he was home. However, the prosecutor is going to say that kids slip out of their homes all the time without their parents knowing it. Nick has a bad record for violence at school.”
“Defending myself!”
“They won’t bring up the why,” Virgil said coldly, “only the fact that you’ve been in trouble, many times, for fighting at school. And that you were recently hospitalized for fighting.”
“I wasn’t fighting!”
Virgil arched a brow at him. “Given your record, do you think any judge or jury will buy the fact that you laid on the ground while someone hit you and you didn’t fight back?”
Nick winced. Another valid point. But … it was the truth.
“You should have filed a mugging report,” Virgil said under his breath.
Nick growled at him. “I didn’t want to get the kid into trouble.”
“No good deed goes unpunished. And for that, you might spend the rest of your life in prison. Go you.”
Nick refused to believe that. It couldn’t happen that way. It couldn’t. “I thought the law was all about getting to the truth?”
Virgil burst out laughing. “Stop watching
Law and Order,
kid. Courts don’t care about the truth. The only thing that matters is what you can prove. It’s not ‘innocent until proven guilty.’ It’s ‘I have an open case log thicker than the New Orleans and surrounding parishes phone books and I need to close some of them.’ So until you prove to me that I arrested the wrong person, you’re going to jail, buddy, and I’m closing at least one case this week.”
Nicks stomach heaved. That was not what he’d been raised believing. But if anyone knew how the legal system worked, it would be Virgil.
“I just want to go home.”
Vigil smiled sympathetically. “I know, Nick.” He checked his watch. “Let me go see if I can rush this along and get you a bail hearing tonight. In the event I can’t, or that you need something during daylight hours, let me give you my business partner’s card. His name is William Laurens and he’s one of the best litigators there is, second to me, of course.” After pulling out the card, he handed it to Nick.
Nick frowned as he read the card. “This says Bill Laurens, paralegal.”
“Ah crap, wrong card. Sorry. Have no idea why that’s still in my pocket. Bill’s my partner’s oldest son and he interned with us as a paralegal while he was in law school. He’s now one of our junior partners.” He handed Nick the correct card. “You could call Bill, but I’d rather you deal directly with either me or William.”
“All right.” Nick tucked the card into his pocket. “By the way, who called you?”
“Kyrian Hunter called William and William called me. Be grateful. Without notice, you’d have been taken through general procedures, which goes a whole lot slower, and they would have put you in a holding cell with some exceptionally fun people.”
“Believe me, I am grateful. Even if I am in here with an undesirable.” Nick glanced askance at Caleb.
Caleb made a noise of pain. “Next time, Gautier, you go alone.”
Virgil checked his watch again. “All right. You two sit tight for a few and let me go see if I can work some magic for you.” His gaze went to Caleb. “Kicking a police car? Really?”
Caleb shrugged. “Car offended me. It was sitting right where I wanted to stand. What would you do?”
“Made sure there was no surveillance, then sucked the cops blood dry, and blown the car up.”
Caleb laughed. “Hos-tile. I love it. You and me could be friends.” He glanced over to Nick. “As for why, I had to do something for them to lock me up with snot-nose, and I didn’t want it to be anything too serious since I would like to leave, sooner rather than later. I’ve got enough things hunting me. I really don’t need anything else.”
“I feel that pain myself, brother.” Virgil slid his PDA into his pocket. “I’ll see you two in a bit.” He started to leave, then stopped. “I know you, don’t I?” he asked Nick.
“About a year ago, you helped us out. We were with Bubba and Mark at the time.”
His eyes brightened with recall, then they widened with substantial interest. He pointed at Nick, but looked at Caleb. “He’s
your
Nick.”
Caleb saluted him. “You’re a little slow on the uptake tonight, Virg. You down a few pints?”
“Freshly fed and … we
really
have to get him out of here.” He practically ran out of the room.
Nick turned a probing stare to Caleb. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“The longer you stay in a place with concentrated malice, and let’s face it, this is a cesspit of malice, the more it’ll seep into you. Think of it like a tributary feeding a stream that turns into a river. The more you’re around it, the more it feeds the demon side of you. The more you’re likely to convert into the true Malachai.”
He would be like the monster who’d almost assaulted Kody. “Is that why my father attacked my mother?”
“What do you mean?”
Nick didn’t answer. Instead, he fell silent as memories went through him and he tried to make sense of it all. “I think my father loves my mother.”
Caleb scoffed. “That’s a delusion. Malachais are incapable of love.”
Nick scowled. “I’m not.”
“You haven’t been fully converted yet. You’re still an embryo.”
Not as much of an embryo as Caleb thought. But Nick wasn’t going to argue that right now.
Or let anyone know about the bargain he’d made.
“I disagree. You didn’t see his face when she was yelling at him. He was hurt by it. And he couldn’t have been that hurt if he didn’t care about her.” That was the first thing he’d learned in grade school. When someone insulted and yelled at you and you didn’t have feelings for them, it angered you. Made you want to hurt them. But when you loved someone and they attacked, it raised your level of hurt more than it raised your temper.