Words of Power (Alice Gray Book 3)

52

I knew by the flicker of hope in Stephen's eyes that he hadn't fully accepted the truth about Mary; that he couldn't accept the truth despite all the evidence.

Whatever tale Adelaide was about to spin, some part of Stephen's brain was open to it. And while I couldn't blame him, the fact that he'd still rather accuse me than accept Mary for the maniac that she'd really been, hurt.

A lot.

"Your witness statement claims that Alice Gray used her magic to free you from the altar and then you escaped from the cemetery with the help of Hazel Device, leader of the Northern Coven."

Adelaide slipped on some reading glasses to look over her copies of the witness statements. She peered over the tortoiseshell half-moon glasses looking like the world's sexiest librarian. Her shiny, red pouty lips were pursed, her pen poised in hand ready to note down his comments. I wondered why she bothered with the sophistry. She already knew exactly what he was going to say.

"That's correct."

"You weren't suspicious that two of the country's most powerful witches just happened to be on hand to save you from what was obviously a sacrificial altar?"

"Why should I be? I've known Alice for years. She's as ignorant of the occult as a new-born lamb."

"And Hazel?"

I swallowed painfully, praying that Stephen would keep his mouth shut about Hazel's split personality. Evelyn Gray did not have a clean rap sheet with the DPA. She may have been found not-guilty in her own trial, but the suspicion that the Grays practiced blood magic had started with her and it had never really gone away. Evidence of Evelyn's involvement would be the final nail in my coffin.

"Well, she is the coven leader," Stephen answered. "You'd expect her to be able to sense abhorrent magic on her own turf wouldn't you? Don't they have wards in place throughout the city for just that purpose?"

Yeah, take that, bitch.

Adelaide did not seem perturbed that Stephen had shut down her line of questioning, and that worried me. It meant that she had something else up her sleeve.

"Yes, that is exactly what you would expect. And yet, the Baroness still managed to get a foothold in the city."

"Is that a question?" Stephen asked again, brows raised in a challenge.

This time nobody laughed. Everybody knew that Adelaide was leading up to something. The eager eyes that darted between Stephen, Adelaide and I told me that more than one spectator scented blood, and it was probably going to be mine.

"Magistrate, please get to the point of your questioning," Emily said, sensing the mood in the Minster and not wanting to encourage the anti-Alice sentiment. Or the appetite for violence that was rustling around the courtroom with every insinuation that Adelaide delivered in her dulcet tones.

"Hear, hear, we haven't got all day," Edward said, in what I was sure was a fake show of support.

Adelaide leaned forward, elbows out on the table, she touched each finger together and tensed them like a James Bond super-villain.

"I would like to suggest an alternative version of events. One that fits with your memory, but which also provides a more realistic scenario for those, let's say, unexplained mysteries that shroud that night."

She was definitely up to something and I didn't like it.

"You don't need my permission," Stephen said when she didn't immediately continue.

Adelaide's lush pout tightened before straightening out into a smile. "What if the witch that the Baroness was working with wasn't your Aunt Mary? What if that witch was Hazel Device, who was helping her niece to work a blood ritual? What if the intended sacrifices were also both witches, you and Mary?"

I could tell that she'd been hoping for some reaction, a sharp intake of breath, an exclamation of surprise and then agreement. But all she got from Stephen was silence.

I wanted to laugh, there were so many holes in that version of events that it hardly held together at all. First Edward's story, and now this. How long had these guys spent trying to twist the events to fit my guilt?

Unfortunately, most of the timeline that disproved Adelaide's claims, occurred when Stephen was an unconscious prisoner of the Baroness and Mary.

When he turned his eyes on me, I could see it again. That glimmer of doubt, that little worm of suspicion that would rather see me as his would be murderer than his beloved Aunt Mary.

"Why was I tied up with you?" I hissed, unable to take that uncertainty in his tired blue eyes.

"The Baroness had caught your attempt to double cross her, and decided to turn the tables on you," Adelaide said, while twirling a lock of her silky red hair as though this was all so obvious that she couldn't comprehend why I questioned it.

"But she'd still need a witch to complete the working, there is no sense in this scenario, surely you can see that?" I pleaded.

"Enough!" Emily exclaimed. "Alice, you will only speak when addressed. Magistrate, unless you have any other questions for the witness, it's time to dismiss him and call whoever is next."

"Very well," Adelaide said, "I'd like to call Baron Knyvet."

What is she up to? Read on ...