I knew I would regret eating everything on my plate, but Terrance had given me a linebacker's portion of frittata, and I didn't want to insult him. Based on the skeptical looks he gave me over breakfast, I got the impression he didn't think highly of hybrids, or maybe he was offended by my potent perfume. Of course, I didn't need to impress the houseboy. I needed to impress his master.

Just before nine, we all piled into the Land Rover and drove to an ancient-looking courthouse a few blocks away. The building no longer served the citizens of Verona, having zero amenities to speak of, but the soaring ceilings, the spectators loft, and the wood burning stove gave the place more character than any modern courtroom.

The magisters, five in total, had donned ivory robes, making them look like priests as they convened at a rectangular table, with Adamo Ricci seated at the head. Introductions were made, and I learned that only one of the council magisters lived in the states; George, from San Francisco. Sylvie and Colin took seats on a bench nearby, and Adamo started the hearing with two rapid taps of his gavel.

"Welcome, esteemed council members," he began, sweeping the sleeve of his robe across the table. "We have come to hear the charges brought upon Boris Seacrest by his grandson, Vincent Valentino. The charges read as follows: that Boris willingly and with malice of forethought, pushed Reese Kentwell, Vincent's affianced, off a fifty-eight story balcony knowing she was incapable of making the change and saving herself from imminent death."

Sylvie's gasp caught the attention of the entire room, and she slapped her hand over her mouth much too late. Damn. Another dismal failure on my part.

Adamo jumped at my oversight like a tiger on a mouse. "Were you unaware that your friend nearly met her end this way?" he asked Sylvie.

"Um, yes. But in her defense, Reese has been feeding me information in small doses so I don't pass out again."

"Oh, dear. Are you a fainter? Should I fetch smelling salts?"

"No, I'm good. I was just a little overcome when she told me she was a gargoyle."

Adamo's eyes widened. "I imagine you must have thought her insane."

"Not really. I know Reese is as sane and I am. That's why I passed out."

Adamo acknowledged Sylvie with a satisfied nod and turned his attention to the accused. "Boris Seacrest, how do you plead to these charges your grandson brings to the council?"

Boris' lips puffed out as he breathed through his mustache. "Well, if we are here to split hairs, I plead guilty to pushing her off the balcony, but I am innocent of any wrongdoing. Reese claimed to have some knowledge of flying, and I was giving her a chance to demonstrate."

"Reese told you she had not learned the skills of flight," Vincent argued. "You knew she had no chance of surviving a fall like that given her limited training."

"And why had she not received adequate training?" Adamo asked Vincent.

"Shortly after Reese's wings came in, she was abducted by demons and taken to their hive. Her training started the evening after her rescue."

"Yes, the demons have a keen interest in Reese, I hear." Adamo caught me in the sights of his dark, all-knowing eyes. "And, you had the privilege of meeting the queen."

"Yes. My mother grew up in the hive, so Cecile wanted to meet me." I glanced at Vincent, wondering if Adamo knew about the amulet. I decided to err on the side of caution and not mention it unless the subject came up.

"What do you think of the demons?" Adamo asked me.

Geez. How did I end up on trial?

"Well, in the short time I've known them, I can't help thinking of them like humans. Some are entertaining and some you want to punch in the face."

Adamo chuckled but suppressed it to continue the proceedings. "Vincent, you have accused your grandfather of attempted murder. And, you are seeking to have Boris Seacrest stripped of his magister status as punishment for his crime."

Snap.

Boris didn't react to Adamo's announcement, which probably meant Vincent had already threatened him with it, but I had to work hard not to react.

"Council magisters, do you feel this is a fair punishment given the nature of the charges?"

Adamo glanced around the table at his colleagues, and one of the magisters stood, a balding man in his fifties who looked like a career boot camp sergeant. "Boris and I have been friends since he earned the rank of magister. His contributions to the council are consistent and his assistance is far-reaching. I am in full support of his unrelenting commitment to keep bloodlines pure by whatever means."

Vincent's face pinched, but he directed it at his hands and not the magister who gave him the stink eye across the table. As soon as the guy took his seat, another magister stood up. George from San Francisco.

"Vincent has upheld his late father's legacy by creating a flourishing empire under the name of Valentino, growing the foundation and seeing that gollum traditions are maintained through architecture. I would like the record to show that I support the Valentino's forward thinking, which they have built their domus on."

"And what good is a piece of architecture if there is no gollum to sit on top of it?" Boris said. "If we allow a hybrid to pollute the purity of our breed, it could take generations before the blight is gone."

"Blight? Your prejudice and lack of empathy is what has brought us here today," Vincent said, clenching his fist on the table. "It is you who promotes the blight. You should have passed the magister's torch to Caleb when you stopped engaging in battle. That is how tradition reads."

"Who says I am not engaging in battle? Caleb does not know what I do during my off hours."

"So, you are admitting to taking solo missions, another action that is in direct contradiction to domus protocol," Vincent countered.

Boris' face hardened and Vincent matched it. If I didn't know they were made of flesh, I would have thought their faces might crack from the pressure of their rigid poses.

"You have both made compelling points," Adamo said. "Boris on the side of keeping our race pure, and Vincent on the side of adhering to gollum tradition and domus protocol. If no one else has anything to add, the magisters will adjourn to discuss the most beneficial outcome. Help yourself to a morning beverage at the back of the room."

Thankfully, no one had anything to add, and the magisters disappeared through a side door. Sylvie made a beeline for the caffé machine, which I didn't have high hopes for, since Sylvie was a stand-in-line-for-your-coffee gal. Vincent and I joined Colin on the bench, leaving Boris to sit alone at the table. A moment later, Boris stood and started pacing in front of a window.

Colin leaned in to speak covertly. "He seems nervous. I think you've got him... unless he has bought off all the magisters."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Vincent said, rubbing his freshly-shaved chin. "I don't have any pull with these old timers. George gave me the nod only because he and Roberto were tight. Bringing Sylvie along definitely gave us a push in the right direction, but it may not be enough. Boris' connections are far reaching."

"So, what happens if the magisters don't punish Boris for his heinous crime?" I asked. "You two never speak to him again? Or is that going to happen regardless?"

"A loss here could impact the standing of the domus," Colin said. "But the fact that Vincent didn't hesitate to press charges rather than submit to the mighty name of Seacrest should say something to the council. They will have to take action against Boris or face a longer fight."

Sylvie returned and held out a paper cup to me. "Here, you can share this with Vincent. Don't ask me to make another one. That was a pain-in-the-ass."

I took the cup from Sylvie, getting a snoot full of robust coffee, and handed it straight off to Vincent. He took a sip and quickly handed it back. "Whatever you put in Reese's cup is not coffee."

"Cut me a break. I'm not a barista." Sylvie took the cup and tipped it over her lips, only to repeat Vincent's response. "You're right. This is shit."

From the window, Boris cleared his throat. "Your measurements were off. For a single shot of Italian caffé, you need only half the amount of coffee grounds."

We all looked up at Boris, who hadn't bothered to glance at us as he spoke.

"Oh. Thank you." Sylvie smiled at Boris in her usual, cheerful way.

Despite his closed-off stance, I had a feeling Boris saw her gesture. Of course, he didn't return it, and the room plunged into a deadly silence. Like awkward beyond belief silence, and I started wishing the magisters would hurry up with their deliberation. Who cared about the outcome.

"A man who stands for nothing will fall for anything," Boris said, breaking the curse. "A quote from Malcolm X."

Vincent's eyebrows lifted as he glared at his grandfather. "Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power. That was Abraham Lincoln."

"I would like to weigh in," said Colin. "A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool. William Shakespeare."

We all looked at Colin to acknowledge his contribution, but I had one even better, something that stuck with me as soon as I'd read it. "A flower cannot blossom without sunshine, and a man cannot live without love. Max Muller."

My quote had everyone turning to Vincent, who I pinned with my adoring gaze and infatuated smile. Vincent took my hand and lifted it to his lips, warming my knuckles with his mouth as his eyes squeezed tight. The moment felt almost too intimate to watch, and the awkward silence returned with a vengeance. The magisters reappeared, entering the room with quiet stealth, and the swish of robes across polished floorboards was enough to alleviate the tension.

"The sound of silence. I will take that as a good sign," Adamo said as he caught my eye and winked.

While I tried to riddle out Adamo's game, everyone returned to their seats, and the high magister started right in, choosing me as his first victim.

"Reese, before we continue the hearing, I must ask you a question of a personal nature. You are not under oath, so you are not required to answer. When was your last menses?"

My mouth popped open, and I automatically glanced at Sylvie. Based on her open maw, she thought the question was inappropriate too. "What relevance does my answer have to the outcome of the hearing?"

"Almost none," he said, gazing at me impassively.

"So, you're just curious?" I pressed.

Adamo responded by lifting his eyebrows dramatically.

"A week ago."

"Thank you, Reese. I appreciate your willingness to indulge us. Now, we can get on with the hearing. Boris..." Adamo acknowledged Vincent's grandfather with a friendly nod. "My fellow magisters and I agree that you have shown ardent commitment to your post as magister of the Seacrest domus in many ways. Too many to list here. You are also the oldest magister with a living and capable son to pass the torch to, which has remained a topic of magister business for some time."

"And my question has always been to define capable," Boris argued. "In my mind, a magister should be capable of protecting the members of his domus and not putting them in unsafe situations. Is it considered capable when a son disobeys his father's direct order and joins a group of renegades, risking their lives to help a hybrid and her offspring?"

Vincent's eyes widened with shock, or maybe realization. "So, you have been harboring resentment toward Caleb for his involvement in that rescue attempt, denying him the right that is due every firstborn gollum son? The crux of Caleb's hatred for you has finally come to light."

Boris and Vincent engaged in another stare-off, and the two were given the floor to shoot death rays at each other until Adamo lifted his gavel and let the mallet fall.

"Boris Seacrest, you have thirty days to get your affairs in order," Adamo said in his sharp Italian tongue. "At the end of that time, you and your son, Caleb, will return to Verona for the official magister ceremony."

Boris' chest rose abruptly, and he appeared ready to defend himself, but Adamo shot him a terse glare, effectively shutting him down. The high magister then turned to address Vincent.

"Vincent Valentino. The council commends you for facilitating something that should have been handled years ago. Your respect of domus protocol is exemplary. We also commend your commitment to protecting your intended. Reese has intelligence and a pleasant persona. Fine qualities to seek in a life partner."

Adamo turned from Vincent to smile at me, but I still couldn't figure out if he liked me or not. Was it a warm or a wily smile? "You are a rare breed among rare breeds, Reese. You were raised by humans who did not know of your unique nature, which means your motivations come from within and have not been tainted by a gollum's agenda. You were also not bred to engage in physical combat. Or were you?"

"Only a three month self-defense course my parents put me in," I said, leaving out the part about learning most of my moves from a demon named Heath.

"But this was done without the use of talons or wings. You were learning to protect yourself among the humans. You have uncovered a truth about yourself. You are a supernatural being, with gifts, quite possibly the gift of producing the eternal flame, which is critical to a demon queen's existence. Your mother's birth was not coincidental. It was intended to exploit her supernatural abilities and prolong the life of the hive. I am sure Vincent has made you aware of this."

Adamo gave me a moment to nod before pressing on. "It is a cruel practice, since both species see hybrids as a threat, and most hybrids choose not to bring another life into the world, knowing their offspring will experience the same prejudice they endured. I recommend you do some thinking and decide if it isn't best to let your bloodline die with you."

Adamo left me to ponder the ramifications of damning my eggs, shifting his focus to face-off with Vincent again. "I have great respect for you, Vincent, as I did your father when he was magister. I have watched you build your domus empire into something any father would be proud of. I have also watched you barricade yourself inside your fortress when you should be training up offspring so you may hand the empire to them. I know you are in love with Reese. That fact would be obvious to the dullest human, which makes decisions even more difficult and often painful.

"I speak to you first as a magister; practice safe sex and sew your wild oats until the flame flickers out, then find a more suitable mate to procreate with. The council has agreed that should this not be done in a reasonable frame of time, we will be asking you to relinquish your magister role to your brother, Jonathan. He has already proven his ability to sire viable offspring, which is a quality trait for a magister."

As everyone sat there in dumbfounded silence, Adamo had the nerve to go on. "Now, I speak to you as a friend. Cor durum a proeliis vincit, sed vita non nutritur."

Adamo's Latin caused a few narrowed eyebrows as the magisters struggled with the translation, but Vincent appeared to have deciphered it with no problem, and his impassive nod gave nothing away. All I knew was the gavel had just come down on us hard.