A rush of adrenaline sparked through Merritt and he hurried to keep up with Bloodworth’s long strides down the hallway.  His first real case.  He’d participated in hundreds of mock trials in law school, always earning the highest marks on his presentations and arguments, graduating at the top of his class in the winter.  

It was difficult for a witch like him to even get acceptance into a vampire law school, but he’d managed it against all odds.  Merritt had promised his folks that he wouldn’t let them down, and he planned to stick to that.

Families with jobs in the medical field and government official positions earned themselves a free pass when it came to compulsory blood donations.  With a secured job at the office, no wicked bloodsucker would ever steal his blood against his will ever again. Vampires were forbidden from touching him without his consent with that ID. 

Phantom pains burned against his neck as he followed Bloodworth to the ginormous court room. Rows of wooden benches spread out through the room, thankfully still empty, but he found himself most intrigued by the two counsel tables up front.  He followed Mr. Bloodworth to the left corner, letting his familiar down on the ground with a whispered command to stay put. Of course, she listened with an eager flicker of both tails.

“Make sure that critter of yours doesn’t cause any interruptions in court,” Bloodworth said as he unpacked a manilla file from his briefcase.  “Take it out to shit now if you need to.”

“Don’t worry. She’s well behaved, and we won’t have any accidents.” Merritt resisted the urge to groan at his contempt for familiars. Many witches and even wizards had them as a form of protection. 

If it weren’t for Bandit, Merritt would not be standing in that courtroom.

He knew it would take some time to acclimate to being surrounded by vampires again, but he had to do this.  With a few deep, reassuring breaths, Merritt pulled out his chair and took a seat. He was prepared for whatever workload Bloodworth would throw his way.

If he survived law school, he could easily master this internship and hopefully carve a name for himself in Sanguine City. He aspired to be just like witch lawyer Gwyneira Grimheart.  Her legacy was what gave him the hope to keep pushing forward, because if a mortal witch like her could prevail through it all, then so could he.

“Did you review the case documents I mailed you over the weekend?” Bloodworth asked.  

“Yes, sir.” Merritt nodded vigorously.  He did not mention how he had memorized every single one.  

“What case do we have first this morning then?”

Of course Bloodworth would quiz him.  Studying those case documents turned out to be quite useful then, and Merritt beamed over it.

“Sanguine City v. Fontain.” Merritt even read off the docket number.  “Police charged Elspeth Fontain with first-degree murder from a death curse.  Sanctius Mortem was the spell used, as they found her wand with magical remnants of the spell.  Her husband was discovered deceased down in their basement, his body splayed out across a pentagram traced with… fox blood.”

Merritt suspected the defendant had been under the influence of drugs at the time of the murder, but only the Goddesses knew what she could’ve taken.  Apparently, her tox screen came back clear, but Merritt knew a clever witch could flush such toxins from their bodies within hours.

Mr. Bloodworth adjusted his sheer black tie, and Merritt awkwardly fiddled with his own black and white polka dotted one.  “A fairly open-shut case to start the night.” 

Famous last words.

Before court proceeded, Bloodworth went over everything with him and made sure he knew not to utter a word unless the judge spoke to him.  Merritt nodded eagerly at everything he said, but once vampires started piling in at midnight, tightness welled in his throat.

Anxiety clawed at him, desperately trying to force him to flee.  But Merritt remained in his seat, reassured by the fact that none of those other vampires in the gallery would come near him.  Any vampire who harmed a mortal in court would be fined and jailed for twenty years.  Merely a tap on the fangs to them.

However, one who harmed an employee under Bloodworth’s Administration would be fined, jailed for fifty years, and pay the victim’s family a suffering fund if said employee died.  Merritt had not sought Lucius Bloodworth’s firm out just for being the best in the country.  He did it for the protective clauses in his contracts.

Vampires could literally smell fear, so Merritt did his best to mask his pounding heart as the judge strode up to her podium.  Judge Alessia Valdine was quite beautiful with her long rose gold hair, and there was a serious glint in her sharp, penetrating crimson eyes as she scanned the courtroom.  

The way her gaze lingered on him like a predator about to seize its prey had him sweating like a pig under he scrutiny.  Good thing he wore his enchanted extra-strength deodorant.  

Judge Valdine had them all recite the sacred oath before starting, and Merritt found himself drawn to the unfortunate young woman seated across from him at the defense table.  Rings of sweat clung beneath her white prison jumpsuit.  It appeared nobody had bothered to bring her appropriate clothing for court.  

A pair of shackles around her wrists and even her ankles caught Merritt’s attention as the woman trembled like a leaf out in the storm.  Tears streaked her cheeks, soft whimpers escaping her parted lips, as her lawyer whispered something to her. However, none of that was what Merritt was trying to avoid staring at. 

The dim lighting shrouded the elderly lady’s ghostly form, but not enough to make her entirely opaque. Merritt kept his gaze anywhere but on her. Spirits were not fond of those like him, those who could see them regardless of whether they wanted him to. 

Some, like his mother, considered it a beautiful gift to communicate with the dead. Merritt considered it more of a curse. 

“I know you’re innocent, my sweet girl.” Merritt desperately tried to tune out the sound of the ghost’s voice, struggling to ignore the way her ghostly fingers grazed the defendant’s cheek.  As if she were trying to wipe away her tears.  

The defendant whispered something to her lawyer about how chilly it was in the courtroom, and he told her that was normal.  Merritt seriously wished his spirit-seeing gift hadn’t accompanied extraordinary hearing abilities too.  As a child, his doctors had told him he had the sound capacity in the same range as dhampir children his age.  

A rumble of thunder shook the very foundation of the courthouse building, the lights flickering erratically with waves of sinister energy.  Regret twisted painful knots in the pit of Merritt’s chest as he found himself staring at the ghost floating behind the defendant again. Her slanted, darkened eyes no longer focused on the crying young woman.  

The ghost was staring directly at him.