I Am the Wild (The Night Firm #1)- Karpov Kinrade Page 0,76

have you been?”

His easy manner makes me boil with rage, but I keep my anger below the surface. “Better and better since I stopped going to therapy,” I say, crossing my arms,

“Glad I could help.”

I nod, my voice sincere. “You were a prime example of what not to do.”

A hint of a frown on his lips. Quickly gone. He gestures behind me. “I see the Night brothers have roped you into their little game. No doubt to tell lies about me. Come now, Eve, I thought you had more integrity than that. Tell me, what did they promise you?”

I shrug. “I don’t have to tell you anything.” And with that, I walk past him and into the courtroom.

The Wild

You may shoot me with your words,

You may cut me with your eyes,

You may kill me with your hatefulness,

But still, like air, I'll rise.

~ Maya Angelou

We all return to our seats, with the exception of Liam, who remains out in the hall. The other Night brothers crowd around me protectively.

“Are you alright?” Derek asks gently. His eyes shift to Jerry for a moment, then back at me. “I heard what he said.”

“I’m fine,” I say, though my gut is buzzing like angry bees. “And I don’t care about what he said.”

“He will never harm you again,” Derek says, sincerely.

“He will die if he tries,” adds Sebastian.

I can’t help but smile at their determination to keep me safe. “I’ll be okay. Don’t go losing your law license over me.”

“Our actions would be of a noble nature,” says Elijah. “Besides, it’s not as if we don’t know any lawyers to bail us out.”

We all chuckle lightly.

“I can sneak into Jerry’s house if you’d like,” whispers Lily. “Summon moths to eat through his clothing. Cause his garden to wither. Make his food go rotten.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice,” I say, sarcastically.

She grins devilishly.

“Wait,” I add. “You know I was joking, right?”

“Right.” She winks.

Before I can say anything else, the judge returns, and the prosecution resumes their case.

They spend what feels like a thousand years parading witness after witness to talk about all the bad things Dracula has ever done.

It's…a lot.

And makes me sick to my stomach.

But just because he did all those things, doesn't mean he killed Mary and the baby.

The baby that wasn’t his.

Considering his outburst, I doubt he even knew the true paternity at the time of the murder.

When the prosecution finally closes their case, my palms are sweating and I'm close to having a panic attack.

I'll be the first witness Derek calls.

I will have to tell everyone in this courtroom the details of my abuse at Jerry's hands.

And pray it will be enough to discredit him.

When Derek makes his opening statement, he is mesmerizing. He owns the courtroom with his confidence and charisma, and I am pulled into his powerful presence.

To take my mind off what's to come, I pull out my sketchbook and begin to draw him in his element. Talking to the jury, making his case, explaining how this crime is too sloppy for the likes of Vlad Dracule.

I draw his eyes, full of intelligence and cunning, and the strong slope of his nose and jawline. The dimpled chin that deepens when he smiles. With shading I create the solidness of his body, the way he fills a space.

He says something funny and the jury laughs. They are putty in his hands. So am I.

And then it comes time for me to testify.

I take the stand with wobbly legs.

Jerry stays in the courtroom, watching. Studying me.

It's unnerving, and Derek lays a hand on mine as I pass him. "Just keep your eyes on me," he says.

I nod, swallowing through a dry mouth.

I'm sworn in by the small gnome woman and then Derek begins his questioning. "How do you know Jerome Van Helsing?" he asks.

"He was my therapist in the mundane world," I say.

And then I explain how Jerry seduced me during the most painful part of my life. How he used our relationship in therapy to become my lover. And how he abused me.

"The first time it happened he was drunk," I say. "He came over to my apartment and demanded to be let in. He accused me of cheating on him and began choking me until I nearly passed out."

I can still feel his hands on my throat. The panic as I couldn't breathe. The belief that I might die.

"The abuse escalated from there," I say. "In another instance he broke my finger when I got angry at him for