Page 65 of Rogue Familiar

“Do you?” Jadren asked coolly. “Think, that is. I’ve received the distinct impression that you’ve already decided upon my guilt with your conveniently in-house eye-witnesses and no one to speak for me.”

“The only person in a position to speak for you is your familiar,” Chaim noted, “who is a prejudiced source, as well as not legally allowable.”

“And your minions are not biased to favor your decisions?” Jadren swept a hand at Maya and Liat, who gazed back like serene statues. “Contractually obligated is the phrase that comes to mind.”

“It’s well known that familiars won’t counter their wizards,” Chaim said instead of answering.

Jadren laughed, a real one. “You clearly don’t know Seliah.” Sobering, he narrowed his eyes at Lord Chaim Refoel. “That’s something for you to bear in mind as you’re quite transparent in wanting her for your own familiar.”

“Why wouldn’t I be transparent about that? Seliah is an ideal choice for me,” Chaim replied placidly. “She is intelligent, beautiful, scintillatingly powerful, her magic extraordinarily well-suited to a healer, especially one in my position. House Phel would no doubt be grateful for such a strong alliance with House Refoel.” He paused, allowing the scathing silence to highlight how little he though of Jadren’s wizardry. “The real puzzle is how you were able to bond her.”

Jadren shrugged with feigned insouciance. “Just lucky I guess.”

“Or you did it illegally.”

“You clearly don’t know Gabriel Phel, either, if you think he’d let a wizard live who illegally bonded his sister. Send him a courier, make an offer to bond Seliah, and just see what he says.” A bit of a gamble there, but Phel had supported Seliah in her determination to seek out Jadren. He wouldn’t throw Jadren to the wolves, if only for Seliah’s sake.

Then, too, were Gabriel’s parting words to him. Everyone deserves a place of refuge, somewhere they can be safe. Seems to me you don’t have one in your birth house, so I’m offering House Phel, should you ever want it. Jadren didn’t kid himself that Gabriel liked him, or remotely approved of him, but Gabriel also never said something he didn’t mean. Part of that ridiculous integrity. With Phel’s idealistic worldview, he’d consider saving Jadren part of that promise.

If only Refoel would contact House Phel. Jadren hated to be in the position of pleading for rescue, but he was up against a pretty hard wall here.

“If I were to send a courier to Katica El-Adrel, instead,” Chaim asked cagily, “would she know who you are?”

“Lady El-Adrel is a busy woman,” Jadren mused, considering the rather alarming potential consequences were his dear maman to receive that message. “I rather doubt she answers her correspondence personally.”

“Oh, I think she’d be interested in one of her wizards being murdered,” Chaim put in almost jovially.

“The victim was likely Ozana El-Adrel,” Liat put in, watching Jadren closely for reaction. “According to the evidence,” she added almost primly to Chaim.

Applying the word “victim” to Ozana nearly made Jadren choke. Besides that dramatic miscarriage of grammar, he wanted to point out that there were several El-Adrel daughters he could have cheerfully murdered, that Liat couldn’t possibly have identified Ozana from the red mist he’d reduced her to. Although… evidence. Shit. Ozana probably had identification in the carriage, since she did possess an MP scorecard.

“Ozana El-Adrel,” Chaim mused. “Katica’s youngest daughter and rumored to be a favorite for her heir.”

Jadren rolled his eyes at the obviously rehearsed proceedings—and at the absurdity of Ozana being a leading contender for becoming Lady El-Adrel. It was never going to happen, even before Ozana met her unfortunate demise. The only person who hadn’t known that was Ozana. If there had been rumors to that effect, Ozana herself had no doubt started them.

“So, I ask myself,” Chaim continued in the same falsely considering tone, “who would have the ability and the motivation to murder a scion of House El-Adrel, and I keep coming up with another scion. But none of Katica and Fyrdo’s acknowledged children match your description or… unusual abilities.”

Jadren had no doubt of that. “Is there a question for me in there somewhere?”

“Yes.” Chaim leaned forward, palms flat on the desk, almost as if he’d like to reach out to Jadren. Probably to strangle him. Good luck with that. “What wizardry did you use to murder Ozana El-Adrel that way?”

“You tell me.” Please, he almost added.

Chaim cocked his head. “All right. I think you’re a by-blow of Fyrdo El-Adrel and a powerful Refoel wizard who somehow disguised her pregnancy and birthed you in secret. You have an extraordinary amount of healing magic—that much is easy to sense—but it’s perverted, twisted in upon itself in some way. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Aww,” Jadren drawled. “A guy always likes to hear he’s special.”

“It’s an abomination,” Liat said, an almost gentle chiding, except for the sharpness of her wizard-black eyes. “You should have been put down as an infant.”

Jadren couldn’t argue that one, as he’d often had the same thought. Still. “That doesn’t sound very ‘all life is sacred.’”

“That is neither here nor there,” Chaim said with more force, giving Liat a stern look that he transferred to Jadren. “Who was your mother?”

“Was?” he queried with lifted brows.

“I’m guessing she’s gone from this world, or you would not have been abandoned. No Refoel wizard or familiar would willingly walk away from their child. It goes against all our principles. If your mother had lived, we’d have known about you.”

Briefly he indulged in that fantasy—one he’d often had as a child—that his true mother was out there somewhere, missing him. Someone capable of love, as opposed to his Lady mother and tormentor. But no, Katica was his dear maman, for worse and worser. There was no denying that. Another reason that he recognized himself for the monster he was, having demonstrably come from those poisonous loins.

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