Eternal by V. Forrest (new reading TXT) 📗

in. “That Shannon. I don’t care what anyone says, I don’t trust her. She’s not one of us, either.”

“Now, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Peigi balanced a clipboard on her knees and raised both hands. “Victor and Shannon may not have been one of us once upon a time, but they are now and it’s unfair to accuse them like this, not without any evidence.”

“But there is no evidence. At least that’s what we’re being told,” someone called out.

“Nuthin’ we can do,” someone else murmured.

“Sure there is. We can stop it from happening again,” Mary Hall argued. Her gaze honed in on Fia. “So how are we going to do that, Special Agent Kahill? That’s what I want to know. How are we going to protect our loved ones?”

All of a sudden more than twenty pairs of eyes were staring at Fia. Thoughts bounced all over the room. Harsh, accusing, angry. They hit her so hard that they could have been fists.

Gair slurped his coffee beside her as if the recipe for the banana bread he was making short work of was being discussed.

It’s okay, baby, Eva telepathed. I’m here for you.

Fia didn’t know which was worse, being attacked by the council or comforted by Eva.

Fia stood, though why, she wasn’t sure. Easier to defend herself maybe, if the blows became physical? She looked to Peigi for permission to speak, as was proper protocol, although everyone seemed to be ignoring it tonight.

Peigi nodded, sitting back in her chair, pulling her clipboard to her sagging breasts.

Fia cleared her throat. “I know everyone is upset—”

There was mumbling. Some spoke aloud, others didn’t, but no one made any bones about the fact that they were not pleased with her investigation.

“But I want you to know,” Fia went on, “that the FBI…I’m doing everything possible to find out who did this, and quickly.”

“So you admit it. You don’t know anything?” Mary Hall demanded.

“We found some evidence this week that could be very helpful,” Fia said to Mary. “It’s being sent off to a crime lab.” As she spoke, she tried to direct her answers to each and every person on the council, meeting their gazes. But with each passing second, she felt less capable. “In the meantime, there are things all of you can do. I need you to go over in your minds the contact you had with Bobby and Mahon in the days before they died—”

Were murdered, you mean to say, someone telepathed.

“Go back weeks, months if you have to,” Fia continued, trying to block everyone’s thoughts. “Was there anything out of the ordinary you heard or saw? Something Bobby or Mahon said. Something an outsider might have said or done. And you need to call me. I’ll leave cards for everyone. Don’t hesitate to contact me. No matter how insignificant it might be.”

“And that’s it?” Tavia asked. “That’s all we can do?”

Doesn’t seem like much to me.

Seems like nothing.

Seems like no one’s doing anything.

“What about putting a group together like we used to in the old days?” Tavia suggested. “To hunt the slayers.”

“Don’t know why we need the FBI at all,” someone else said. “That’s not how we used to do things.”

“No, it’s not.” Fia turned to her great-uncle, who had spoken. “It’s not the way we used to do things. But the way we used to do things didn’t work either, did it? Vigilantism is how we ended up in a sinking ship in the Atlantic Ocean, fleeing for our lives. That’s how we ended up here.”

“And following this country’s justice system has worked,” said a deep-timbered voice from beyond the circle. “It’s worked for three hundred years.”

Everyone on the council, including Fia, turned toward the hallway. It was Fin. Fin to the rescue.

You’re a little late, Fia threw in his direction.

But not too late. Fin grinned as he entered the circle and stopped in front of an empty chair. He had a way about him that she had always admired. He was dressed casually in jeans and a black T-shirt with a bad-boy five o’clock shadow on his chin. But the facial hair only seemed to make him more attractive. Fin had that charismatic presence that could be felt but not explained. When Fin Kahill spoke, people listened. People, humans and sept members, believed.

“Fia’s right. We need to let the authorities deal with this, at least for now. We need to stay calm and not panic.”

“Easy for you to say, young man,” Mary Hall snapped. “It’s not your lover rotting in a grave without his head!”

“I’m sorry, Mary.” Fin turned to her, meeting the older woman’s gaze. “I can’t imagine how you feel except to compare it to the loss of my Lizzy and my sweet Fiona.”

His voice was so gentle, so compassionate that everyone in the room seemed to relax a little. Fia took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to be lynched. At least not tonight.

“So what do we do?” Tavia asked.

“Yes, what should we do, Fin?” another questioned.

“We should do what Fia asks. We stick together and don’t make unwarranted accusations, and we should keep an eye on each other.”

People nodded. A few made sounds of agreement. A hush was settling over the circle of men and women in the room. A calmness.

“Thank you, Fin,” Peigi said, smiling at him.

Fin smiled back, taking the empty chair.

Peigi checked her clipboard. “The only other subject we really need to discuss is the increasing complaints about the teenagers on the streets at night. I understand a dinghy was stolen the other night and it was found filled with shaving cream. And there’s the trees at city hall getting TPd again.”

Someone chuckled.

“It’s becoming a serious problem,” Rob argued defensively.

“Kids roaming the streets, kickin’ over garbage cans, horsin’ around, trampling flower beds,” Little Jimmy injected. “I for one think it’s time we did something about it. I been sayin’ for years, we need a curfew for these kids.”

“Jimmy, you’ve been complaining about the teenagers for at least five hundred