Seraphs by Faith Hunter Page A

She’s a temptress.”
    “But she didn’t come to your bed?” Shamus, the chairman and chief judge, clarified.
    “No. I guess she didn’t. But she tempts a man. Just having her in this town is a cause for immoral thoughts for every man and boy. She’s a wh—”
    The gavel banged as Shamus cut him off, his face darkening, his dark-skinned knuckles pale on the wooden hammer. “That’s enough. Guards, escort him to the jail.” Two bailiffs lifted the witness by his arms and shuffled him off the stage. “Maybe a few days in a cell will convince you of the error of bearing false witness to this court, Eugene. And you’re lucky the seraphs didn’t strike you dead for lying.”
    “Well, I got something to say,” a voice called from the back of the room.
    “The court recognizes Derek Culpepper,” Shamus said. “Come on up, son. And to prevent any conflict of interest or unethical proceedings, I’m sure the elder Culpepper will agree to remain impartial, and not vote his opinion on any evidence brought before this bench by his son. Elder?”
    The elder didn’t look as if he thought that was a good idea at all, but a quick glance at the camera convinced him of the futility of argument. Culpepper jerked his head with ill grace as his son bounded up the stairs to the witness stand. Derek was a flamboyant businessman, partial to vivid-colored clothing, a man with more money than taste. Today he was dressed in a gray wool suit with a tiny yellow pin-stripe, a cranberry-toned overcoat, and a purple shirt. His tie was a bright spring green. And his shoes were orange leather. It nearly hurt to look at him.
    Holding to both chair arms, I opened a skim and my sight together. The world reeled and tottered like a top around me. Gorge rose in the back of my throat. The otherness of the blended scan stole my breath, but I saw what I needed to see. I released both senses.
    As Derek took the witness seat and was sworn in, I lifted a finger, attracting Audric’s attention. When the big man bent almost in two, I said into his ear, “Get him to say if he hates mages. And if he does, make him empty his pockets.”
    Audric turned a curious eye to me, but I offered no explanation.
    Derek accused me of inviting him to my loft, drugging, and then seducing him. I didn’t bother to hide my grin at his words. Even if I’d been in heat, a condition that had been known to cause mages to mate with a reckless lack of inhibition, even across species, I’d have had better taste than to choose Derek. A couple of women in the crowd must have agreed, because a titter rippled through them at my smile.
    I didn’t bother to listen to the dates and times Derek offered, occasions when I had my lascivious way with him. I just stared at his left overcoat pocket, waiting. When he finally fell silent, Audric said, “Are mages and their conjures a danger to the human population?”
    “Yes. They should be wiped from the face of the earth. The Mage War was proof of that. The US military tried to destroy them, over eighty years ago, and would have if they hadn’t been attacked by magic and annihilated.” The crowd murmured uneasily and I could feel the weight of human eyes. “The nuclear weapon that was aimed at the mages would have left the Earth a clean and chaste place, worthy of the Most High. Now, because they’re still here, still polluting the face of the world that the Lord hath made, God the Victorious won’t come and finish the cleansing that was the apocalypse.”
    That was a new one. I’d heard all sorts of reasons for killing mages, but never a claim that mages were keeping the Most High from coming to earth.
    It was an accusation I couldn’t answer, an allegation that was pure prejudice. The end of the world hadn’t been exactly what the ancient prophets had been expecting. There had been seraphs, winged beings with swords who appeared in every major city in the world. There had been plagues and wars and rumors of wars. Most of the