Sealed With a Curse(5)

The vampires seemed to enjoy the show. A few fanned their faces and shifted closer to their neighbors for a little cuddle time.

“Tell me when it’s over,” Emme whispered.

An uncomfortable length of time passed before we actually segued to the assault in Taran’s bedroom. I watched David roughly bind Taran’s hands with his tie and expose his fangs, which struck me as strange. This wasn’t foreplay. This was a predator immobilizing prey.

I raised an eyebrow at Shayna, who shook her head, equally confused. Vamps were never hostile to their victims. They didn’t have to be. Humans found them irresistible, and the experience supposedly proved orgasmic for both. Everyone in the courtroom remained mesmerized by the scene. I wasn’t. I tensed, knowing the moment that would seal our fate quickly approached.

On the screen, Taran yelled, “You bastard! Don’t you dare bite me!” The rows of vampires behind me hissed like a nest of angry serpents. Taran’s core flared blue and white before it catapulted a fireball into the aforementioned bastard. The next image showed me breaking down Taran’s door. My green eyes were wild and my long curly hair a mess from sleep. Yet it was the skimpy tank top and lace panties I’d worn that made me blush. I glanced at Misha, who gave me yet another appraising look-see.

My eyes narrowed. Is he flirting? No, of course not. He’s probably just hungry. Men don’t flirt with me. They race away screaming.

I returned my focus to the screen in time to watch myself wrench David up and heave him through the window. The onlookers gasped when they watched me touch his flaming form with my bare hands. Vampires hated fire. Fortunately, they also witnessed Emme and Shayna freeing Taran from her binds, proving they were uninvolved.

When the final image showed the four of us staring down at the pile of blood and ash scattered on our front lawn, Destiny released Taran’s head. Taran slumped to the floor and promptly vomited. We ran to her.

“Son of a bitch,” she muttered between coughs.

While some obviously repulsed vampires mopped up Taran’s mess, another female judge fixed her eyes on Emme. I wasn’t surprised. Emme had our father’s fair skin and blond hair, distinguishing her from the rest of us who inherited our Latin mother’s darker tones. I thought Emme resembled an angel in her soft pink dress. The judges probably thought she resembled dessert.

The judge played with the edges of her robe in teasing strokes. It was hard to appear slutty in an outfit that resembled a muumuu with a zipper, but this vamp managed. She leaned forward, crooning to Emme in an alarmingly alluring voice, “Come to me, little one. There’s something I wish to share with you alone.”

Emme stepped closer to me. “I’d rather not,” she responded.

Judge Malika turned to her colleagues. She whispered, unaware my hearing was as sharp as hers. “Sofia just tried to call their weakest one and you saw she failed to react. Clearly, these Wird sisters are immune to our magic, and yet young David attempted to feed from one.”

The others nodded, but otherwise said nothing. I bit back a smirk. Since vampires were strict about keeping their existence a secret, it was illegal to drink from someone who couldn’t be hypnotized into forgetting the experience. They were also required to erase fang marks by licking the wound. I thought we’d gained some leverage until I caught Judge Malika’s sinister glee.

“Young David attempted an illegal feed,” she said. “Your response, however, was exceedingly violent. I sense your collective power. You could have easily contained David and contacted his master. Sir Aleksandr would have dealt with him.”

“Excuse me.” Shayna cautiously addressed the judges. “We didn’t know your rules. We were just trying to protect our sister.”

Judge Malika pursed her lips. “Then perhaps you shouldn’t associate with those whose ways are unfamiliar to you.”

Her condescending tone infuriated me, but I thought better of lashing out. Instead, I tried to clarify her words. “According to you, David committed a serious crime. What would’ve happened to him if we had contacted Misha?”

The four judges raised their eyebrows in unison, and a wave of muttering rippled through the courtroom. I realized I had insulted Misha by failing to use his proper title. My scowl deepened. Considering we might die at his hands, I didn’t give a crap about formalities.

I glanced over, expecting him to take offense. Instead, he gave me a small nod and a wide, wicked grin. Either I’d impressed him with my backbone or my backside. Regardless, no way would I allow him to take a chunk out of me.

The male judge answered me instead of Judge Malika. He wasn’t any peachier. “Sir Aleksandr would have turned young David over to us to discipline. As per our laws, we would have sentenced him to three months of daily torture sessions, but not death.” The judge trained his focus on Taran. “You set him on fire. Had you been alone, we may have excused your actions by reason of self-defense. But you weren’t.” He pointed an accusing finger at us. “You were all present; therefore the fight was unjust.” He sat back and crossed his arms, inordinately pleased with his reasoning.