her to shut up?" Trent said, but the cameras were on me.
"The coven told you to steal it?" one of the reporters asked.
Glenn's grip on me tightened, and I followed his gaze to where the crowd was parting. Black suits and power ties. It was the coven, but it wasn't Vivian, it was Oliver!
"That woman is mine!" Oliver shouted even before he found the steps, his face red as he strode forward, amulets swinging and Mobius cuff links shining in the sun. "I claim jurisdiction. She is a black witch, shunned, and I won t have her spreading lies of corruption in the coven!"
I pressed back into Glenn, the air cold on my knees. It was about to get tricky.
"Sir!" the reporter was saying, her mike aimed at Oliver as he found the stairs. "Did you tell Morgan to steal the statue from Mr. Kalamack to get her shunning removed?"
The man stopped on the stairs, looking aghast. "Of course not!"
She looked at her ring, and I realized the thing was an amulet, glowing a steady green. It was a truth charm. Shit. I had to work fast. Good thing I hadn't lied.
"I tried to keep the demon from taking Brooke," I babbled. "Friday. At sunset. You heard the explosion. All of Cincinnati did! Oliver, you have to believe me. She summoned a demon. I told her not to, but she did. I tried to save her, and she told him to kill me!"
The newscaster's amulet stayed green, and the woman's eyes grew bright. Corruption in the coven indeed.
Trent pushed forward. "Get her out of here," he hissed to Oliver.
"I'm trying," Oliver said, his fingers encircling my arm.
"No!" I said, shrinking back, my fear real. "I want due process!" Anywhere other than an FIB cell, and I was dead or lobotomized. And Trent smiled, the bastard. I hope you choke on it, elf hoy.
The newscaster held her mike higher, flushed. "Mr. Coven Leader, has a member of the coven been demon-napped in conjunction with Morgan's assassination attempt?"
Oliver hesitated. It was his downfall. Guilty or not, he looked it. Smooth as silk, Trent stepped forward. "I'm sure the coven leader will give you a statement in due time." Turning his back to the crowd, he hissed, "Will you get her out of here?"
Oliver tugged on me, and I pressed into Glenn. "I didn't want to do it!" I shrieked. "I didn't want to break into Trent's vault. I don't care if I go to jail, but don't let the coven take me. They put me in Alcatraz with no trial. They sent fairies to burn my church. And they summoned a demon to kill me!"
And of course the newswoman's amulet stayed a nice, beautiful green. Eyes bright, she stood on tiptoe, her mike above her head. "Sir! Is there any connection between Ms. Morgan's claims of an attack and the 911 call to the Hollows at 1597 Oakstaff yesterday morning?"
Innocent as a lamb, the man stammered, "I wasn't aware of an explosion."
Her ring glowed red. Trent's head bowed and he started distancing himself. I felt a glimmer of hope. Oliver had lied, and the reporter knew it.
"Sir, is it coven policy to take contracts out on shunned witches?" she insisted as if sensing blood. "Did you tell Morgan to steal for you to escape such a punishment?"
"Uh..." He hesitated, then shouted, "I'm taking custody. She is a black-arts witch! Look, I have the paperwork."
Crap. I'd forgotten that the coven loved red tape as much as David. "Glenn," I said, my fear very real, "don't let them take me. Please!"
But he could do nothing as a wheezing, red-faced Oliver handed him a paper. Damn it, I was not going to die from paperwork. "Ah, Rachel...," Glenn said, his face becoming concerned as he looked up from it. "We might have a problem here."
"Glenn," I breathed, knees going weak. "They'll kill me! Don't let them take me!"
Oliver made a satisfied huff. This was not happening. This was not happening!
As if in a dream, I heard Glenn promise he'd get me back, but it wouldn't matter. In five minutes, I'd be in a van, hopped up on drugs. An hour after that, I'd be on a surgery table.
Someone took my elbow and tugged me to the steps. "No!" I shouted, and the crowd responded. In a panic, I yanked out of Oliver's grip. Three more men grabbed me. I struggled, but sheer body mass overcame me, and I hit the floor, awkward with my hands