Page 82 of What Fools These Immortals Be
“Of course he was,” Kieran protests, but Deacon is already shaking his head.
“No,” he says. “Dax intervened before Augustine could lay a finger on him. For all we know, he could have been there to talk.”
“He wasn’t!” Kieran says.
“We know that,” I reply, “but it is about what Augustine can argue, not what we understand of his intentions. For now, all he has done is break through your wards, and I suspect that was not even him. He has broken into a pack house.”
“What’s the punishment for that?” Kieran asks, temper flaring again.
“Nothing that serious,” Deacon replies.
I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “If he argues that, the Council will have no choice but to let him go and allow his earlier claim to a challenge.”
Kieran starts to say something again, but Deacon grabs his forearm. “Calm yourself or wait outside.”
“You—”
“Outside.”
He must push on the bond that exists between them—Deacon is Kieran’s alpha, after all—because Kieran winces. He gives Deacon a faintly betrayed look before he gets to his feet and stalks out of the room, slamming my office door impressively loudly into the frame.
“Sorry,” Deacon says. He runs a hand through his hair. “I can’t say I don’t understand where he’s coming from, though.”
“I do understand,” I say. “I also do not wish to destroy my own office. I think Vasile would be upset with me for it.”
That gets me a twitch of Deacon’s lips. It is telling that he has left Vasile behind. Lucien not being here makes sense, as he and Sam will be taking care of the members of Kieran’s pack. But Vasile? He or Deacon do not trust his objectivity here.
It is fair, I suppose, but I do not like it.
“You think the Council will still allow Augustine to challenge Quinn?”
“I think they’re in as precarious a position as we are,” I say and drum my fingers on the arm of the chair. “How outraged will my clan be if the Council kills a vampire who did not, in fact, injure anyone? We both know what Augustine wants to do, but without proof, I cannot condemn him for it—the clan will not trust me if I do.”
“And if he is freed, he will come after Quinn again.”
“Most likely.”
Deacon rests his elbows on his knees and sighs. “If we capitulate once, everyone will believe they can demand a challenge.”
“Can’t we?”
His lips quirk. “It’s not something we advertise.”
“Maybe that’s what we need to do.”
“And what do you vampires do, when you need to deal with something like this?”
Kill each other, I don’t say because it has been a long time since that was our preferred form of justice. “Vampires generally only fight for territory,” I say slowly, still considering things. “We do not have to do that here. Disputes are mostly dealt with by chieftains and in one hundred years, I only had to escalate a handful of cases to Vasile.”
“What did he do?”
“We have the cells. He decided.” And never consulted us; not that I generally think he was wrong. “A few were killed.”
“No one demanding justice?”
“That was what they got.” I shake my head. “We don’t have the same hierarchy as you. We don’t have the same instincts. Challenges make sense in a pack for settling things like that, don’t they?”
“They do.”
