Part 27 (1/2)

Ryan turned her gaze upon Marilyn, and her expression was unreadable. The dispa.s.sionate expression irritated Marilyn, who allowed her eyes to drift to Ryan's lips, then to her throat. Her gaze lingered there, caressing the artery.

Ryan, as always, was aroused against her will. She carefully maintained her poise, however, and returned her gaze out the window. Marilyn smiled.

In some ways, the girl hadn't changed at all.

CHAPTER 31.

SUSAN STOOD AT RYAN'S SIDE IN THE ALCOVE. Edward stood at her other side. Jason had been removed from their presence at Susan's objection, but Edward had a.s.sured her the boy would not be harmed.

Susan looked over at Edward. His demeanor had changed dramatically. She had seen him as subservient before, but she now him as a warrior standing at the side of his King, ready for the battle for which he had prepared for centuries.

Ryan also looked composed, as if she had steeled herself for what was approaching. She had spent the last few hours isolated, aware of the Others' presence, but immune to it. She stood calmly in the shadows, as if awaiting some hidden command.

A figure slipped from the shadows and Susan saw that it was Marilyn. The dark-haired woman approached Ryan and Ryan did not at first acknowledge her presence, keeping her own counsel. She finally turned to Marilyn, nodding. Marilyn gestured for Ryan to lead the way.

Ryan stepped from the alcove into a great subterranean hall. The room was longer than it was wide and the ceilings were so high they could not be seen in the blackness. The walls were covered with huge tapestries stretching up into the darkness. The light from thousands of candles flickered across the faces of those leaning out of the balconies to glimpse the procedures below. Pews lined both sides of the central aisle, filled with hundreds of people. The hall was less a courtroom than an underground cathedral.

Ryan briefly paused at the entrance to the hall as all eyes turned towards her. Susan could feel the sudden tension, as if the room had drawn its collective breath. Electricity suddenly danced between every occupant of the room, and Susan realized she was the only human present.

Ryan began walking forward, allowing her eyes to briefly skim the great crowd of Others as if they were of no consequence to her. And indeed, they were not. She could feel their shock at her presence, feel them reach out to her and withdraw in terror. She could feel their desire intermixed with their terror, their longing intermixed with an ancient fear.

Ryan strolled leisurely down the aisle, coming to a stop at the table set before the judge's stand. She was not surprised to see the ident.i.ty of the One who would sit in judgment of her. She gazed at the matriarch standing on the dais before the great hall.

”h.e.l.lo Abigail,” Ryan said softly and sardonically.

Abigail examined the young woman in front of her, a young woman who was no longer young but truly one of the Old Ones. Abigail noted the slight physical changes in Ryan that Marilyn had noted, and the non-physical ones as well. She smiled her slight and enigmatic smile.

”h.e.l.lo my dear.”

Susan had a very good idea who the older woman was, just by Ryan's previous tales. But there was much Ryan had failed to convey in her stories.

Each of these people had distinctive characteristics that were magnified by a devastating eroticism. From Marilyn's earthy sensuality to Abigail's matronly seduction, they all wore their l.u.s.t on their sleeve with little if any contrition. Even now, in her position of objective judgment, Abigail did not hide her admiration for Victor's protege.

With great show, Abigail seated herself behind the huge desk, smoothing her robe. She picked up the paperwork in front of her.

”The courtroom may be seated.”

Susan Ryerson started to sit but then caught herself awkwardly halfway. No one else in the great hall had moved, so she as subtly as possible stood upright once more. Edward stood rigidly upright, unmoving.

Abigail's rustling papers were very loud in the silence, a silence that became even more p.r.o.nounced when the rustling slowed, then stopped.

Abigail glanced around the great hall. Not a single person moved. All stood stiffly as if involuntarily at attention. Abigail turned to look at Marilyn, whose gaze flicked upward to those in the balconies, then around the room. She turned her attention to the accused standing in front of her.

Ryan stood at the head of the great hall, only the slightest trace of tension about her. Very slowly and with deliberate casualness she took her seat. She took a moment to settle into the cus.h.i.+on, then crossed one long leg over the other. Without taking her eyes from Abigail, she languidly raised her hand, and with a casual gesture, allowed the rest of the room to take their seats.

There was much whispering as people settled into their chairs; no one in the room missed the significance of the gesture. Abigail herself was aware of the message Ryan had sent her. She gazed down at the younger woman with the ambiguous emotions of their Kind. She was impressed but not surprised; exasperated but unmoved; and, as always, stimulated by the casual display of power. She looked down at her paperwork.

”Please state your name for the record.”

”My name is Rhian.”

Susan glanced over at Ryan. She spoke her name with that curious inflection, as she had the first time she had met her.

Abigail peered expectantly over the papers. ”Your full name, my dear.”

Ryan s.h.i.+fted in her seat, a look of discomfiture pa.s.sing over her features. She took a deep breath. ”My name is Rhiannon Alexander.”

This brought a slight murmur as Abigail nodded in satisfaction. ”Rhiannon,” she said, ”The G.o.ddess of the dead. How appropriate.”

Susan at last understood. Ryan spoke her name so curiously because it was a shortened version of her true name, a name that she had never spoken.

Ryan sat back in her chair, arms folded. Abigail gazed at her a few moments longer, enjoying the implications of the name. Her gaze drifted over to Susan. ”But I do believe you are now called *Ryan.'”

Ryan nodded curtly. ”That is correct.”

Abigail turned her attention to the paperwork in front of her, from which she began to read aloud.

”You have been brought here today to be tried by a jury of your peers-”

”Then I move for a mistrial,” Edward said, interrupting her.

Abigail peered over the paperwork. ”On what grounds, counsel?”

Edward turned to Ryan, who gazed at Abigail with her unblinking gaze. ”I have no peers,” she said.

The silence was very loud as Ryan's words hung in the room. Susan gazed up at Abigail, expecting to see the older woman angered at Ryan's insolence. Instead, Abigail was having difficulty controlling a smile. She regained her composure and waved her hand.

”This is inconsequential.”

The omission in Abigail's words was greater than the content, and silence again settled upon the room. Ryan spoke softly.

”But not untrue.”

Abigail herself did not break eye contact this time. ”No,” she agreed, nodding ever so slightly, ”not untrue.” She drew herself up. ”But it is still immaterial, motion denied.”

The gavel came down, startling Susan so she jumped. She glanced over at Ryan, then back up at the judge. She wasn't certain what was going on, but it seemed Ryan had just won two small victories in a row. She could not tell if this judge wanted to destroy the defendant or eat her for breakfast. Somehow she had the feeling the magistrate wanted to do both.

Abigail continued to read from the paperwork. ”You are accused of killing your mentor, Victor Alexander. How do you plead?”

The expectancy in the room was in sharp contrast to Ryan's nonchalance. ”I plead not guilty,” she said firmly.

A murmur went through the crowd and Abigail raised an eyebrow. ”You deny killing Victor?”

Ryan shook her head. ”No, I plead not guilty because my actions were justified.”

Another murmur swept the crowd as Abigail gazed down at the defendant. ”An interesting defense.”