The Devil Series

 

 

 

“Get up, Laughlin,” the guard roared through the metal bars of Tessa's cell. “It's time for your hearing!”

Tessa opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling of her cell, willing her head to stop spinning. “I don't feel well,” she said weakly. “I need a doctor!”

“Do I have to come in there and get you? Because you ain't gonna like it if I have to do that!”

As she sat up her stomach clenched violently. She tried to stand, but collapsed to the floor and crawled on hands and knees to the hole in the floor that served as her toilet and heaved. She hadn't been able to hold food down for three days straight and her weakness was mounting.

“You're trying my patience!” the guard said brusquely. “Get yourself off the floor and out of the cell,” he added, unlocking the door. He walked in, grabbed Tessa hard by one arm and pulled her to her feet. She wiped her mouth desperately with her free hand.

The large guard yanked Tessa out of her cell, hard. He nearly dragged her down a narrow, gray hallway, up a long staircase and into another hallway, this one filled with photos of Scarlet Guard members and commendation medals for various acts of bravery. He pushed the courtroom door open and shoved her through it with one massive hand. Tessa spun around and scraped at the door with her fingernails as it clicked shut behind her.

Tessa pressed her forehead to the door and tried to ignore the spinning sensation in her body. Slowly, she turned around and faced the men and women in the courtroom. She heard the gasp of shock from the crowd as she made eye contact with them. She reached up and tried to smooth her tangled hair, painfully aware that she looked terrible; her jailers had only allowed her a few cold showers in the entire month that she had spent in the cell. Sores covered her head and arms.

Her feet shuffled against the floor as she made her way to the small podium from which she would hear the charges against her and where she would make her plea. She struggled up the steps, her weak hands gripping the railing as she faced the Head of Loyalist Security, Carl Forester. He regarded her sternly, his expression pitiless. She fought to maintain eye contact with him. His voice boomed from the bench where he sat, hands folded in a patricianly manner:

“Tessa Laughlin, daughter of the late Michael and Linda Laughlin, you are hereby accused of high treason against our world, in kidnapping Scott Madison, a student, away from the safety of Briarwood Academy. In addition, with the potential for Scott Madison's death you did in fact conspire with one Raphael Valdez, also known as the leader of the Visionary Coalition, to allow him a victorious rise to power. Furthermore, Tessa Laughlin, contrary to the faith and allegiance of a true Loyalist, did indeed aid the Visionary Coalition and almost succeeded in helping Raphael Valdez to lead a coup against the Loyalists.

“This being said, it is this court's opinion that voluntary actions on your part on the night of September twenty-seventh warrant a life sentence in prison. In addition to the charge of treason, the Department of Magical Defense is trying you for the theft of the Dumortierite crystal, a stone whose use by the governing body of our world is strictly controlled. You used it with the intent to hinder Scott's efforts to save himself. The esteemed Oracle shall determine your fate. Tell the court, Miss Laughlin, how you plead.”

Tessa glanced about the room. Looks of disgust and loathing met her eyes. She saw the smug-faced Macarthur Parker from the Telegram scribbling furiously in one corner. What could she say that would win them over to her version of events? Her stomach flipped in a queasy fashion as she turned back to Forester. She began to speak, her voice quite soft, yet controlled.

“Since what I'm about to say contradicts your accusation and seeing as my guilt seems wholly decided upon, it's almost pointless for me to enter my plea of not guilty.  I am innocent, and I have no doubt that the Oracle of this court’ll find me so. I have been nothing less than an ardent supporter of the Loyalist cause. Because of my actions, Scott Madison is still alive!”

Forester stood up, momentarily flustered at the denial of guilt. “Because of your actions, Scott Madison nearly died. Because of you, Scott was in the glen on the night of September 27, away from the safety of the school. Because of your cowardice, we're all here today!”

“That's not entirely true,” Tessa cried. “Valdez kidnapped my parents! His servants threatened me with their certain death if I didn't seduce Scott out of the school.”

The room began to spin around her. She fought the urge to vomit and continued. “Don't you understand? I only agreed to do it in order to save my father and mother. But as I got to know Scott over the week, I discovered what a decent and wonderful young man he is, and that I had to stand up for what I believed in. I tried to tell the truth, but Valdez's arrival interrupted me. That crystal – the Dumortierite – I didn't want to use it for bad, but—” She closed her eyes tightly and swayed where she stood.

Carl Forester sat down at his bench and regarded the courtroom with a hard expression. “This trial pushes at the walls of my soul, because the woman being tried and sentenced today is the daughter of two of the best Scarlet Guardsmen I ever had the pleasure of working with.” The courtroom began to buzz with whispers and pointing fingers. Forester cleared his throat loudly. “May I remind the court that silence will prevail over today's sentencing?” he said in a cantankerous voice.

He turned his attention to Tessa and glared at her. “You have done a great disservice to your parents, Miss Laughlin. Were they alive today they would be ashamed. We will proceed with justice, which shall have due course today. Have you anything you wish to say to the court before the verdict is delivered, Miss Laughlin?”

Tessa took a deep breath and shook her head. “No matter what I choose to tell this court, and no matter how eloquently I do so, nothing will change the ultimate verdict and sentence I'm going to receive if indeed the Oracle, a magical object interested only in literal truth, is to proclaim my innocence or guilt. You may as well proceed as if I had said nothing.”

The room began to spin before Tessa; members of the court were merely colorful blurs. She fought to maintain her composure. Concentrate on Scott's face, she thought.

The courtroom was deathly silent. Every pair of eyes in the room was looking directly at Carl Forester, holding their collective breath.

“Bring the Oracle,” Forester intoned in a somber voice.

Tessa nodded as she tried to open her eyes to look at Forester. Darkness settled over her vision, however, preventing her from seeing him. She swayed on the podium and lost her grip on the railing. The last thing she heard before all went silent was the rush of air and a buzzing in her ears as she fell to the floor.

***

“You're k-kidding! And she did what? Excellent. Are you certain? Who told you? Raphael will be p-pleased,” Simon said. He pocked his cell phone and stepped out of the alleyway he had ducked into to take the call.

Simon smiled. Valdez would be most pleased to hear of the events of “Mrs. Robinson versus the Magical Community” as the reporters had dubbed the case in the papers. Perhaps it would give Valdez some measure of comfort and he would be less inclined to take his continued displeasure at losing Scott out on the remaining Visionary Coalition members, or even worse, him. He called for a car to take him to Valdez’s estate.

Upon his arrival, Simon punched in his password on the keypad located next to the wrought-iron gate, entered the compound and headed straight for the bar. Knowing the boss on the level he did, he was sure that the news he was about to deliver would warrant a drink of celebration. He would be sure and have it ready.

The short, stocky man opened up the bar and looked for his ingredients. He found the Pernod right away, safely stored in a crystal decanter, but the Tabasco sauce and the lemon wedges were trickier to locate. He finally found them in the tiny refrigerator underneath the bar itself He pulled these things out of the cupboard and set it on the bar. He fumbled around for a shot glass and sugar. Dunking the lemon into the sugar, he then doused it in the Tabasco sauce and placed the wedge on a white plate. Pouring the Pernod into the glass, he added this to the plate and gave a smile of satisfaction as he looked at his handiwork. Bartending was one of Simon's specialties.

“SPELLMAN! Come here immediately!” roared Valdez from the next room. Simon shuddered. He strode into the next room, the Pernod sloshing dangerously in its shot glass.

“Y-yes, sir?” he asked in a squeaky voice.

Valdez turned to him, about to say something cruel when he noticed The Official Shooter of Hell on the plate in Spellman's hands. “I see you've made my favorite drink, the Pernod Demon,” he uttered softly, gliding gracefully over to Simon. “You must have some good news for me, then. It would be a pity to waste such a fine drink and your life on something that didn't please me.”

Valdez is in fine form today, Simon thought, gulping and almost dropping the plate.

“I have news that will please you, Valdez,” he said, bowing.

“Well, get on with it,” spoke Valdez in an irritated voice. “My patience is thin and the drink looks inviting.”

Simon told Valdez about what happened in the courtroom. He told him everything, including the part about the medics driving Tessa off to St. Stephens hospital. He talked and talked and as he did, the smile on Valdez's face grew wider and wider.

When Simon had finished dispensing his information, Valdez seized the lemon and the shot glass in a fit of malevolent delight. Sucking hard on the lemon, he downed the shot in one gulp. “If nothing else, Spellman, you are an admirable bartender. News like this deserves another! Make me another one of these drinks. By all means, make one for yourself too. What I wouldn't give to see the look on Madison's face when he learns of this fascinating turn of events.”

“Look into your crystal, boss.”

“Precisely what I plan to do,” Valdez said, stepping over to his desk and pulling the Orb from its ornamented box. He waved his hands slowly over the Orb, smiling as the mists within the ball swirled and changed colors. “The beauty is that I told Miss Laughlin I'd destroy her and her lover as well, but it appears as if they have destroyed themselves.”

***

“You called, sir?” Scott asked, stepping into Reid's office. He was still sweaty from the game, which had ended only minutes ago. The Briarwood Bulldogs had won of course beating the Chatham Eagles thirty to nothing. He had managed to throw five of the six touchdown passes, a personal best. He had no time to revel in his team's success, because Ms. Violette had whisked him away from the field, a look of revulsion on her face. Her only comment was that Scott was to see Reid immediately.

“Yes. Sit down.”

Scott took a chair and sat. Reid was not smiling; there was no twinkle in his eye. A feeling of dread began to mount inside of Scott. What was Reid going to tell him?

“I have some news concerning the trial that you need to know,” Reid spoke in a sober voice. “Tessa was not sentenced today.”

Scott was genuinely stunned. “But you told me that her trial would be a media circus! You told me that she would probably never see the light of day again! Wait a second – did they find her innocent?”

“No, son, they didn't find her innocent.”

Scott looked bewildered at this statement. What was going on? He waited for Reid to continue.

“On the night that you took Tessa to the glen, what happened there?” Reid asked carefully.

“I-I'm sure that someone has already told you, sir. Dr. Butler has to have mentioned to you—”

Reid held up one hand, palm out, facing Scott. “Stop. Dr. Butler told me only that he and Miss Decatur found you and Tessa in the glen together. He asked Mallory to bring you back here and told all of you that he was going to deliver Tessa to the officials when Valdez and the rest of his crew arrived. He mentioned nothing else. I must ask you again – what happened between you and Tessa Laughlin, before Dr. Butler and Miss Decatur arrived?”

Scott stared at his hands and tried to fight the crimson tide spreading from his neck to the tips of his ears. So Butler hadn't said anything about the sex, he thought. Had he tried to spare Scott embarrassment?

He didn't want to tell Reid about what had happened between him and Tessa. Only a handful of students knew and none of the teachers did, besides Butler, of course, that he and Tessa had had sex. To him, confessing to Reid that he’d had sex was like confessing to Santa Claus, or at least a grandfather. He heard Reid clear his throat. He's waiting, Scott thought. He's waiting for a response. I have to tell him something.

Scott looked up with a sheepish expression on his face. “We, uh, that is to say, Tessa and I…well, you know the night had been great up to that point and we were hitting it off…I, that is we never meant to…Mark and Ethan said it wouldn't ever happen and that I didn't need to worry about it! Tessa and I, sir, we…”

Scott trailed off as he saw Reid pick up a pencil and begin to tap it on his desk in an irritated fashion. “What I mean to say, sir, is that we had...we were,” and then Scott said in a tiny voice, “we had sex, sir.” Scott flinched and squeezed his eyes closed, expecting the screaming to begin any time. When it didn't come, he slowly opened his eyes.

Reid placed the pencil on his desk, shook his head soberly and sighed. “I'm afraid I have troubling news. Tessa collapsed at her hearing today.”

Scott gave a gasp as he jumped from his seat, quite upset. “Is she all right?” he asked, frightened.

Reid gave a small smile. “For someone who claims not to care for her, you're doing a good job of convincing me otherwise. Your eyes and your body betray you.”

Scott sat down quickly, forcing his face into an expression of complete disinterest. It was tough to do. “Someone else told me that too,” he admitted, thinking of Valdez.

Reid continued. “To answer your second question, yes, Scott, she is being taken care of at St. Stephens. From what my colleagues who attended the trial were able to ascertain, her holding cell was squalid at best, and they weren't feeding her enough. Tessa thought she had caught a bad virus while she was in confinement and asked to see a doctor, but they repeatedly ignored her requests. She was a flight risk, according to those in charge.”

Inwardly, Scott was disturbed that a person could ask for help when they were ill, only to be ignored like that. “Were the doctors able to figure out what was wrong with her? Is she all right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, well, thanks for telling me.” Scott stood up and made to leave.

“Scott, sit down,” Reid said sharply. Scott hastily sat down again.

“What? You've told me she got sick and now she's getting care. I don’t understand why you pulled me from a celebration with my football team to tell me that, but now you have. What more do you need to say to me?”

“Scott, Tessa's going to have a baby.”

Scott gripped the chair and reeled, as if someone had punched him in the stomach. Surely he had heard wrong. “What?” he asked weakly.

“Tessa's pregnant. She knows already and claims vehemently that you are the father and that she has been with nobody else. The doctors have calculated that she will deliver at the end of June.” Reid stood up, and walked around his desk and motioned for the boy to stand.

“It can't be—it has to be someone else's child.” Scott began to gesticulate wildly with his arms as he spoke. “She was with Spellman! Valdez said that she was in Room 411 with him while she was here! This can't be right! God, tell me you're joking!” He ran his hands, still dirty from the football game, through his mop of sweaty hair, as he thought back to Valdez's comment to Tessa in the glen. He had said something to Tessa about Simon…something about him being eager to finish what he started with her in Room 411…

Oh no.

Spellman had tried to have sex with Tessa, but hadn't been successful. The two had never had sex. Which meant…

“Oh dear God,” Scott said, as the truth finally dawned upon him.

“I don’t want to believe it, either, Scott, and so I asked for the magical staff at St. Stephens to do a little sleuthing on your behalf. They’ve run several magical tests on Tessa in the past twenty-four hours and proven that not only are you the father, but can give us an approximate time to when the baby was conceived, down to the hour.” Dr. Reid rose from his chair and opened the door to the mini-fridge he kept on top of his filing cabinet. “Those tests cannot be tricked, so I'm afraid it's true. I'm sorry, but you're going to be a father in June. Therefore, my question to you is, what do you plan to do about it? As I told you this morning, you are nearly a fully-grown man. The choices you make now will not only affect you, but Tessa and the child as well.”

“I don't know what to d-do,” Scott sputtered.

Reid frowned. “You have eight months to figure that out. Your life is no longer completely yours, Scott.” He opened the door to his office. He regarded his young charge with a sympathetic smile. “I'm here for you. I'd hope that you've known that all along, but especially now. Take some time to think this through and let me know what you decide.”

 

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