brother’s death. But she could give her new friend the quick and dirty version.
“A routine traffic stop which turned into a drug bust,” she said tightly. “Only Rashaad didn’t do drugs—he was a health freak, wouldn’t even put caffeine in his body, let alone cocaine—which was what the cops claimed they found. And they claimed they had found enough of it to throw him in jail without bail because they said he was a flight risk.”
“That’s horrible!” Kat exclaimed. “Couldn’t your family do anything about it?”
“We tried,” Imani said. “My parents are well connected—my dad’s a tax attorney and my mom is a doctor—a Pediatrician. They hired the best defense attorney they could find. But before the case could even get to court, my brother was…” She took a deep breath. “He was stabbed and killed. We only got word when my Mom and I went to visit him. My Mom was…” She shook her head, remembering the way her mother had broken down, sobbing, right there in the visitors’ area. “She was devastated. We all were.”
“Of course you were. How terrible!” Kat looked truly horrified. “And that’s what made you want to go into law?”
Imani nodded.
“The next day I changed my major from pre-med to pre-law.” She lifted her chin. “I wanted to fight for people like my brother—people who were unjustly accused and railroaded into prison.”
“I think that’s wonderful.” Kat gave her an admiring look. “The fact that you’re turning your personal tragedy into a crusade for justice.”
Imani sighed.
“It’s the best I can do, since there was nothing I could do for my brother. I’ll do anything to help my clients.” She looked down at herself and sighed. “Even, apparently, dress like a stripper.”
“Believe me, doll, you won’t be the only one there dressed like that,” Kat assured her. “And don’t worry, I’ll be packing you more of the same, so if the hearing goes on multiple days, you’ll have plenty of fashion choices.”
“All of them obscene, I suppose?” Imani raised an eyebrow at her. “At least this color looks good with my complexion,” she remarked. The dark pink did an excellent job of emphasizing her chocolaty brown skin tones—perhaps too good a job, she thought wryly, since so much skin was on display.
“They’re all pretty skimpy,” Kat admitted matter-of-factly. “But again, that’s Yonnie Six for you. You have to dress the part or they won’t have anything to do with you.” She shrugged. “But at least you don’t have to pretend to be one of them—if you were, we’d have to find a willing Kindred warrior to pretend to be your bodyslave.”
“Bodyslave?” Imani asked, horrified.
“Sure.” Kat nodded. “In Yonnite high society, you’re nothing if you don’t have a big hot guy on a leash and a pain collar trailing around after you. But since they already know you’re coming from the Kindred, you don’t have to pretend. Not that Sylvan won’t send a guard to protect you, if you want one,” she added.
Imani shook her head firmly.
“No thanks. I prefer to work alone. Besides, from what I’m reading about the Nightwalker Kindred, it’s much better for me to come for him by myself than to present another male that he might see as a challenge. Nightwalkers are extremely territorial.”
“Really?” Kat looked interested as she handed Imani a short, pink lace jacket that matched the band of lace covering her breasts. “Here, put this on—it might help you feel a little less naked.”
A very little bit, Imani thought, as she tried the jacket on. It covered her arms all right but didn’t meet in the middle, which meant her breasts were still exposed.
“Thanks,” she said doubtfully.
“You look gorgeous if it’s any consolation,” Kat told her, smiling. “Better put on your regular clothes though, Sylvan wants us to come to a briefing before you go.”
Imani was more than willing to take off the skimpy Yonnie Six court outfit and slip back into her normal workday clothes of a conservative button-down blouse and pencil skirt. She gave a sigh of relief as she stepped out from behind the folding screen Kat had set up in her office, which also included a clothing simulator—an amazing machine which could print out clothes from on-line images like a 3-D printer.
“Well, you look much more conservative now,” Kat said, grinning as Imani emerged from behind the screen. “Ready for the briefing?”
“Ready.” Imani nodded. She was eager to learn more details of the case she was about to try. She’d been taking a crash course