Page 2 of Forbidden

One by one, others filed into the room, sitting around the small conference table. Ira only knew some of their names.Daniel, Judah, Cyrus, and a couple of others whose names escaped him.

“What’s he doing here?” Daniel asked, jerking his head at Isaac. “I figured he’d be first in line to start hacking up halflings.” An easy smile followed the quip to let them know he meant no offense.

Isaac rolled his eyes. “I like killing monsters. I don’t care for killing things that aren’t harming anybody.”

“He’s here because we’re in agreement,” Nathan said.

“What’shedoing here?” one of the others asked, looking at Ira.

“That… is a good question,” Nathan said, one corner of his mouth quirking. “But we aren’t supposed to question prophets. Ira?”

“I’m here because it doesn’t feel right,” Ira said. “That’s why you’re all here, too, isn’t it? I’m the prophet, but you can all feel it, too.”

Nathan nodded. “Yes. It doesn’t sit right with me that we’re going after…” he paused, searching for the right word, “peoplewho haven’t hurt anyone. I think this decision was influenced by Alex Hawk and Luke Morgan leaving. I don’t think starting a war over two outliers is the answer.”

Six months ago, Paladin Alex Hawk disobeyed orders to hunt down the demon that killed his family, and in doing so, he met and fell for a demon named Talon. The guild banished him for his betrayal. And then, three months ago, the guild found out that Luke Morgan was seeing a demon named Malachi, but instead of banishing him as well, they tried to kill him. A squad of paladins lost their lives that day, and their rings were returned to the guild along with their severed fingers. It was a clear warning from Malachi and Talon to stay away from their humans.

Ira was the only one who knew that Alex and Luke wouldn’t be the only ones. He took a breath to say exactly that—but stopped. Would telling them change the decisions they would make organically? How was he supposed to know what he could tell them and what he couldn’t?

Maybe there was a good reason for the council’s oversight of the visions, after all.

He raised his gaze—and found Isaac studying him intently.

“I’m sold,” Judah said. He was the youngest one here, a newly minted paladin just eighteen years old. “If a prophet’s here saying that killing halflings is the wrong choice, I believe him. They know things.”

“They don’t knoweverything,” Cyrus said, studying Ira with a cool, hazel gaze.

Ira inclined his head. That was true. He only had pieces. It was like looking at a tapestry with a flashlight. He only saw bits at a time. Figuring out the big picture was still a lot of guesswork and hope.

“Nonetheless,” Nathan said, “I’m glad we’re all, at least, in agreement. Let’s make sure we all have each other’s numbers, so we can stay in touch.”

They did, each person rattling off their numbers to the room while the others typed them all into their cell phones. Ira did the most typing. He only had a few prophets’ numbers, and his supervisors’. It was frowned upon for a prophet to socialize with paladins, so he’d never had an opportunity to get their phone numbers before. But he had a feeling he’d need them.

“What do wedo?” Judah asked when they finished. “We don’t have enough people to oppose the new ruling.”

Nathan shook his head. “No, I don’t think it would bewise for us to stick our heads out right now. We need to lay low. Follow orders. If you’re uncomfortable with killing halflings, just don’t report that you’ve come across any. Focus on the monsters who hurt people. I’ll try to talk to Sloan soon after the excitement dies down.”

“They haven’t hurt anyone!” Nathan shouted, his frustration like a core of steel in his voice. “We’re focusing on all the wrong things, commander.”

Sloan’s cool expression didn’t waver. “Then perhaps you’re the one who’s lost sight of what we’re doing here, Captain.”

Ira shook the memory of the vision away.

“Head down, follow orders,” Cyrus drawled, placing his hands on the table and pushing himself to his feet. His tattooed forearms flexed with the movement. “What a monumental change. Glad we had this talk, everyone.”

Isaac snorted, pushing to his feet. “Cy, you up for a spar?”

“Absolutely, been a hot minute since I’ve whooped your ass, hasn’t it?”

“Nobody says ‘hot minute’ anymore,” Isaac said as they strode from the room.

“Ira,” Nathan called as the others left.

Ira paused by the door, letting it swing shut in front of him.

Nathan sighed, his expression troubled. “Are we doing the right thing?”

Ira hesitated. He didn’t know what was safe to tell him.

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