"Sir Jonathan, Sir Jonathan!"
Well, looks like the kids have no intention whatsoever to get rid of the "Sir". They like it. Like, a lot.
Apparently, if he has Sir as a title, he has to be part of some sort of knighthood.
No idea where Ellena picked up that idea, but as long as she's happy…! If needs be, I'll ask Jordan to find a way to knight their new brother or something.
Anyway, the vampire patriarch isn't all that delighted with the situation and throws us a pleading gaze; we pretend not to see it. Even James finds his cup of tea to be of the utmost importance right now, intensely staring at its contents.
The guy is refusing to meet his clan head's eyes, no matter what.
It doesn't take long before the kids drag their new brother to the living room, and a false sense of quietness falls over the room.
"You know what?" James takes a deep breath and musters the courage to speak, even if he knows fully well that Sir Akerley, erm, I mean, Jonathan, will most likely hear him. As an old vampire, his hearing is a little too keen. "I'm glad I'm the uncle, not the brother. It looks exhausting."
I have to agree with that.
"On the bright side," I sigh, "they haven't asked for their brother to sleep in the same room as them."
"Yet. They haven't asked yet," Eve playfully adds before getting up. "Alright, I have to leave and finalize the file about Oliver's case. I'm not letting him run free."
"Aim for the highest sentence possible." Jordan offers a cold smile that sends shivers down my spine.
"Who do you take me for?" Eve winks, taking the documents Jordan is passing over to her, the ones he went through during breakfast.
Ah. These are for Oliver's case?
…So, what Jordan compiled before wasn't enough? It looked pretty solid in my eyes, though… I guess they're not taking any chances. These guys can be awfully petty.
Meanwhile, James blinks, staring at me.
Dude, how about asking the question instead of letting me guess what's going through your head? Well, whatever.
"Eve is a prosecutor, and visibly the one in charge of Oliver's case."
"Huh?" James looks confused. "But why is she in charge of it? Isn't there some sort of conflict of interest here…?"
"That only applies to the human judiciary system." Jordan raises an eyebrow. "The demon realm isn't as thorough. Or more like, the demon king trusts the people in charge of maintaining equilibrium wholeheartedly. As long as the proof is there and irrefutable, he doesn't care about the underlying grievances between the people involved. Same for the celestial king."
Both James and I frown.
Because otherworldly beings use human names, and not their real names, in the human realm, it's often impossible to tell who is handling what.
I mean, even if we know the names of important and influential supernatural beings, it doesn't mean shit if they don't tell us about it, and we only know them by their human identities.
—Like, I don't even know Jordan's and Eve's real names as of yet. Not so sure I want to know them, either.
That aside, Jordan's words are hinting that the people in charge of maintaining order in the human realm are actually the demon kings' and the celestial kings' direct underlings.
It's not exactly surprising. It just means the human government has been lying to us, 'cause I doubt they don't know the truth. Since forever, these guys have been telling the hunter clans that the officials were independent from the courts of both realms.
Apparently not.
Or at the very least, if the officials aren't part of the courts, they're good friends with the kings, seeing as they have their blind trust.
…Who cares. I'm not going to meddle in that or debate about it. It serves me well, too, so I'd be a fool to raise pitchforks and demand a fair system.
Not like the human system is any better, anyway. It's corrupted beyond salvation.
***
I sit on the bed, feeling exhausted.
We didn't do much today, just preparing James's and Jonathan's rooms and other accommodations for their stay with us, but darn, I'm tired.
I feel even more tired when I glance at the date on my cell phone.
Melissa's funeral is in a few days. The ceremony is open to all who wish to bid her farewell, so even if I haven't received an official invitation, I plan to go. To start with, it's not like Miria knows my address or my contact information to send one of those white cards. I only know when the ceremony is 'cause of the good old internet.
Hunter clans have their own private web servers, and I still have access to them. My ID hasn't been deactivated.
I stare at my phone for a few more seconds before taking a deep breath and sending a message to Bryan. He should be awake by now and shouldn't have gone back to sleep yet.
Hopefully.
Me 21:16
Will you be coming to Melissa's funeral?
I wait, and when I think I won't get an answer, the three dots appear. It's funny how fast my brother is at answering me. I can feel my lips curling up at the thought, but I wipe off that smile quickly.
Big Bro 21:21
I have something to take care of at work, so I won't be able to. I'll visit her grave later.
My heart seems to fall in my stomach, but I'm not surprised. I'm just glad he's still planning to at least visit her. And to be fair, it's better that way. He won't have to deal with our shitty family if he doesn't come on the day of the funeral.
Anyway, I'm not sure I could keep my mouth shut if Miria decided to get that crow's mouth of hers moving, just to mock his disability and such.
Before, I had no choice, and I'd just clench my jaw and stay quiet. I've always been good at enduring people's bullshit.
The thing is: now that I'm out of that hell and my survival isn't directly linked to her mood swings, I don't have to give a shit about her fragile ego anymore.
"What are you thinking about?"
Jordan's voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I lift my eyes to meet his. The kids have decided to sleep in Jonathan's room tonight, and my husband has no obligation whatsoever to sleep in my room, yet here he is.
I could tell him to go to his room.
But I don't.
"I'm preparing myself mentally to face my evil stepmother at Melissa's funeral."
The sarcasm burns my tongue. Evil is an euphemism. Demons and devils are far kinder than that wrench.
"Can I come with you?"
The question startles me as my husband sits on the other side of the bed. I frown. In my mind, I've already convinced myself that I'd be going alone. It's weird to think that, maybe, I don't have to handle this shitshow on my own.
The bed creaks as Jordan bends over to turn off the light on his nightstand. At the same time, he says, "Wouldn't you love to see their dumbfounded faces? I sure would."
His teasing tone manages to snatch a laugh out of me. I put the phone on my nightstand and pull the blanket over my shoulders, craning my neck to look at Jordan, who's sitting and leaning against the bedhead, getting ready to work, like always. He doesn't need light to see and read his reports.
"Honestly?" I smirk. "I would love to."
If my husband shows up, I can already see the scandal it's going to cause. Even if we're married, he's still a demon. In theory, showing up at a hunter's funeral is nothing short of daring. But I know Melissa wouldn't have minded. I have a hunch she would have loved to meet him, if only to make sure he treats me well.
It'd also be reassuring to have Jordan by my side, just in case some idiots decide to stir the hornet's nest.
'Cause I don't need to have clairvoyance abilities to know some dimwits definitely will.