Marked by Death (Necromancer #1) - Kaje Harper Page 0,55

hurt.”

“What did you do to Silas?”

“He’s just in stasis for a moment.” A short, plump, good-looking man with dark hair graying at the temples came toward them from the back of the room. By elimination, he had to be Burns.

Darien backed up to put the wall behind him, and raised the burning rune. “Let him lose, or I’ll burn this place down.”

“Don’t be foolish. You don’t have that kind of power in here.” Burns gestured and Darien’s rune was doused as if shoved into water.

“Oh yeah?” Darien didn’t care how schoolyard that sounded. He shoved a lot more power into a fire rune and tossed it with a backspin that curved it around and up under Burns’s ass.

Burns yelped and turned and gestured, managing to extinguish it, although a faint scent of scorched wool said it’d been a close thing.

“How dare you!” Burns’s eyes bulged and he raised a hand.

Before he could launch anything Ferngold said, “Enough!” in a voice that echoed in Darien’s bones. It must’ve hit Burns too, because he glowered but lowered his hand.

Ferngold and Locke stood shoulder to shoulder. “We’re not having a battle in here over trivia.”

“What fucking trivia? Silas can’t move!” Darien gestured. “Grim’s locked up. Let them go.”

Ferngold turned to Grim. “If we release you, do you agree not to attack anyone.”

Grim’s rising yowl didn’t sound like a promise, and Ferngold sighed.

“At least let Silas talk,” Darien said. It wasn’t enough, but seeing Silas stand there, unable to defend himself, made it hard to even think. He’s good with words.

Ferngold nodded to Norgaard, who hesitated for several heartbeats, then made a gesture.

Silas drew a visible breath, gave Norgaard a glare that held a world of menace in it, and said, “What is the meaning of this? I’m here as your invited guest.” He moved his head side to side as if testing his limits, but nothing below his neck so much as twitched.

“You have to understand—” Locke began.

“Understand what? I’ve been attacked in the Guild hall and you’re all standing around doing nothing about it.”

“We agreed on this course of action.” Snow’s tone was cool and objective. “Serious accusations have been raised about you that must be addressed.”

Darien’s gut turned to water. Are they that narrowminded? They’d tie Silas up in spells just for being gay? Part of him whispered, We’ve barely touched each other yet. I had such hopes. It’s not fair!

“What accusations?” Silas didn’t even glance his way.

Locke said, “Norgaard and Burns did a preliminary inventory of Michael Crosby’s house. They found no evidence of a demon, or the kind of residue that possession leaves behind. Crosby is missing, and your claim to have killed him while he was possessed is very suspect.”

“Suspect?” Silas visibly gritted his teeth. “What’s suspect is your investigators’ skills. Crosby was possessed, and from the rags remaining of his personality, not recently. There have to be indications somewhere. Maybe he wasn’t using his house anymore. He may have another property somewhere. It’s your job to discover these things.”

“You must understand,” Locke said. “You’re accusing a council member of raising a demon, with no evidence, against the word of two more of the council, and the man isn’t here to defend himself. We take that very seriously.”

Darien broke in, “Why don’t you ask me, then? I was there. Crosby was scary as shit. He wanted to eat me.”

Burns’s lip rose in a sneer. “Demons don’t eat people.”

“Metaphorically, you pudgy rat!”

Darien relished Burns’s flinch and the darkening of his face.

But Silas said, “Darien, easy,” and jerked his chin up at Locke, his hands still frozen in place. “Ask Grim, then.”

“He’s your familiar.”

“If you think he’d lie about demons, you don’t know Grim.”

The fox at Burns’s heels laughed. “Familiars lie. Ask me how I know.”

Locke raised a hand. “We’re getting off track. The point is, Thornwood, we want you to let us put a truth spell on you and Green. We want to believe you, but you see how bad it looks. We swear to ask about nothing outside of the last three days.”

“No chance,” Silas snapped, then an odd look came over his face. He tipped his chin up and sniffed, licked his lips, took a breath. “Wait. I’ll agree, if Burns agrees to do the exact same thing first. The last three days. Truth spell. Locke and Ferngold in charge.”

Locke and Ferngold exchanged looks. “I suppose if that’s what it takes—”

“No!” Burns probably meant to sound firm, but Darien caught a hint of a higher pitch in