Alpha Page 24

Blackwell stood, leaning on his cane. “Calvin, you can’t deny that this evidence carries some weight.”

“Some, yes,” Malone nodded gravely. “But not enough. It’s circumstantial evidence at best, presented by a girl of questionable morals who’s already been convicted of a capital crime. We cannot afford to take her word at face value, and the only way to verify it is with testimony from the thunderbird I supposedly dealt with.”

My temper flared over the “questionable morals” dig, but I couldn’t fight that one without making a fool of myself and further humiliating Marc. And there was a bigger issue at stake.

The thunderbirds could only be contacted in person, and even if we had that kind of time to spare, I had no reason to believe the birds would actually testify. They didn’t give a damn about our political turmoil, or any werecat injustices that didn’t directly affect them.

There had to be someone else who could back me up. Someone whose word the council would have to accept. But my father hadn’t actually heard what Brett said over the phone. The only ones who had were Marc and Jace, and Malone would no more accept their testimony than mine. He’d remind everyone that the council had yet to recognize Marc as a Pride cat since his return, and if I brought Jace before them, Malone would call him biased and have the perfect excuse to call me a whore in front of the entire assemblage.

“If what Ms. Sanders says is true, surely she can present this thunderbird for us to question. Right?” Malone looked at me expectantly, and to my complete outrage, I realized that people were listening to him. A couple of the Alphas—Davidson and Gardner—seemed unsure of what to believe, but Mitchell and Pierce aimed incensed glares my way.

I was at a complete loss for words. If I admitted that the thunderbirds probably wouldn’t testify, we could kiss the case against Malone goodbye. But if I promised them something I couldn’t deliver, I’d be blowing another huge hole in my own credibility. So I said the only thing that felt true beneath so many restrictions. “I can try.”

“Good.” Malone gave a perfunctory nod. “We look forward to that testimony, at the earliest possibly occasion. But in the meantime, I see no reason to put off the vote based on unconfirmed, unsubstantiated, circumstantial evidence against an Alpha who doesn’t have a single blemish on his record.”

“But…” I stammered, my hands already going cold from shock. In all our strategizing, we’d never thought Malone would be able to just ignore our charges and carry on. And our evidence wasn’t uncorroborated. But Marc and Jace weren’t suitable witnesses, and no one else had heard Brett’s phone call, or Lance’s confession.

Except Kaci…

No. I couldn’t drag her into this. She was already terrified of the council in general, and Malone in particular, and there was no way they’d let me sit with her while she testified. They probably wouldn’t even let me be in the same room. And on her own, she was too easy to intimidate.

I couldn’t sacrifice her mental and emotional health, even for this.

I shot a frustrated, helpless glance at my father, wondering if he knew what I was thinking, and he turned to Blackwell.

“Paul, I can personally testify that our prisoner told us that a member of our own species blamed the thunderbird death on our Pride.”

“Yes, but did he actually name this informant?” Blackwell asked, looking both hopeful and grim.

“No, but the Flight later confirmed Malone’s identity to Faythe.”

Blackwell frowned, and his forehead crinkled. And I knew what was coming before his mouth even opened. “I’m sorry, but he’s right. If you’re basing your charges on circumstantial evidence and uncorroborated secondhand information, we need to have this evidence and hearsay authenticated before it can be accepted.” Blackwell’s scowl deepened, as if the words tasted bad in his mouth. However, he would follow the letter of the law. It was his crutch in the face of uncertain moral terrain, but it crippled him in the field of justice. “We have no choice but to proceed with the vote as scheduled.”

Seven

I stood slowly, fear and anger warring inside me. I couldn’t make my hands unclench at my sides, but my voice and my face were under control. Even-tempered and respectful, at least from the outside. “Councilman Blackwell, please reconsider.”

“You no longer have the floor!” Mitchell snapped, glaring at me from across the room.

“Neither do you.” When the first unruly tendril of my temper began to uncoil, I grasped at it desperately, trying to keep it in check. To keep my mouth from digging a hole my father couldn’t climb out of. I turned back to Blackwell, ignoring the complete outrage written in every line on Mitchell’s face. “Councilman, you know these charges have merit. You were there when the thunderbirds attacked. You know we’re telling the truth.”

Blackwell’s gaze hardened beneath wiry gray eyebrows, and I realized I’d made a mistake, reasonable though my presentation was. I’d questioned his judgment in front of the entire council.

“What I know,” Blackwell said, his creaky voice steadier than I’d heard it in years, “is that you’ve had your say and I’ve made my decision. This council is not unmoved by impassioned pleas, but neither is it governed by them. If we don’t abide by our own rules, we will fall into chaos. Little better than the lawless warlords to our south. When you bring eyewitness testimony, we will hear it, and we’ll decide then whether or not to try Councilman Malone on the charges your Pride has brought forth. Do you understand?”

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