The Problem With Black Magic Read online

Chapter Seventeen

  Cassie slept fitfully, tossing and turning into the wee hours of the morning. The king sized bed and high thread-count sheets were incredibly comfortable, but somehow it didn’t seem to help her relax. When the light of dawn became visible beneath the curtains, she woke from her dreamless half-sleep to hear the sounds of men talking. Vaguely, she remembered that the guys had decided to do some sightseeing in the city, and through the door, she heard something about Dwight telling Khalil to put down his steak and eggs and get going.

  Cassie would have liked to have gone with them, but she couldn’t afford to gamble that something would happen outside that would detain her; if a bomb threat or subway breakdown caused her to be late for her hearing, she was out of luck. At least she could sleep in, in theory, but satisfying rest remained elusive.

  Eventually, she gave up on being well-rested and got out of bed. On her cell phone, she had 14 missed calls and four voicemails, presumably all from her parents. Suppressing a pang of guilt, she put on one of the complimentary terry cloth robes over her t-shirt and sweat pants, she went out to the main room.

  Sam and Serenus were at the dining room table, their discussion falling silent at her approach. Sam picked up a newspaper and his coffee mug and vacated the table when she sat down.

  When the door to the master bedroom slammed, Serenus gave her a weary, if somewhat amused look. “You know, it would make my job easier if you wouldn’t insist on stomping on his pride every chance you get.”

  Cassie poured herself some coffee from the gilded carafe on the table, not meeting his eyes. “You have a job? This is news,” she snarked. It wasn’t the brightest comeback, but she had no idea what to say. Had she “stomped” on Sam’s pride? No more than he’d stomped on hers by calling her “nothing” without her magic. As far as she could tell, he’d been far crueler to her than she had been to him.

  She looked up at the spot on the wall where Sam had pulverized the tray of chocolates, which had somehow been completely cleaned in the interim. The cleaning staff here certainly didn’t let the grass grow under their feet.

  Before Serenus could respond, Jay ran into the room, clumsily stretching into his brown suit jacket. “Did it start yet? Can I go?”

  “Wear your badge!” Sam bellowed from behind the bedroom door.

  Cassie turned to Jay over her coffee. “You didn’t go with them on the sightseeing tour?”

  Jay gave her a look like she was insane. “And miss demon court? Something hardly anyone ever gets to see? I don’t freakin’ think so!”

  Serenus walked over to Jay, adjusted his lapels and slapped the gaudy yellow badge on his chest. “Remember, if anyone asks tell them you’re a member of Sammael’s entourage, and they should leave you alone after that. Valencia Ballroom, downstairs by the—"

  “I know, thanks!” said Jay, and he was off.

  Serenus shook his head in disbelief as he came back to the table. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so excited to witness proceedings at eight o’clock in the morning. Want some breakfast?”

  Serenus placed a quick call to the kitchen, and a waiter brought up a tray of eggs and syrup-drenched waffles for Cassie. As she ate, Serenus gave her some information about court. The schedule would primarily be occupied with small territorial disputes and other technical matters for most of the day, and Sam and Cassie’s hearing wasn’t until seven. They were going to sit through most of the day’s proceedings for the sake of appearing interested in demon business (ha!), but there was no immediate rush; showing up for the early morning hearings was something only those who couldn’t avoid it (and Jay) did.

  “There are seven demons on the board, but the one that concerns you is Donatello Arrigio; he’s been chairman for almost 30 years, and he’ll probably be doing the bulk of the talking. He’s a bastard— well, they all are, more or less by definition— but fair, if nothing else. The fact that justice is even possible at this point in time can be credited to him, in large part.”

  “So what you’re saying is, he’s going to try to do the right thing,” Cassie said around a mouthful of butter and syrup.

  “Yes, but keep in mind for him ‘the right thing’ concerns what’s right for our kind, not what’s right for you, personally. He won’t want to see you hurt if there’s no call for it, but remember: to him, you’re still an asset to be exploited more than you are a person. You have to understand that tightrope he’s walking.”

  Cassie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, my heart bleeds for the poor guy.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  Cassie looked over her shoulder briefly to see Sam walk up behind her, then did a double-take; he was dressed for the occasion, looking like a scowling magazine model in a glossy black tuxedo, complete with white gloves. She was at a loss for words for a moment, but fortunately he filled the silence himself.

  “Don’t be sarcastic, they’ll take it as a sign of disrespect— which it is, by the way— and hold it against you. Also, don’t lie.”

  Cassie nearly choked. “Really? Not about anything?”

  “Not about anything,” Serenus repeated. “They may have a witch in attendance who can use magic to detect lies. They don’t always have her present, but often enough to make lying not worth the risk.”

  “But what if they ask me if Sam is a good master?”

  At that, Serenus threw his head back and laughed, while Sam fumed silently.