Black storm clouds devoured the heavens that cold and unforgiving night.  It swallowed up the moon and stars, leaving only the faint glow of lantern light to guide Gwyneira to Sanguine City’s Courthouse.  

Bloodguards greeted her at the entrance, clad in their official crimson uniforms that bore the Valorathian crest on their chests. They wore them like badges of honor.  Each vampire had a gun and wand holstered to their hip.  She provided her credentials then handed over her briefcase bag and wand to be inspected.  They looked down at Nightshade with mutual frowns, and Gwyneira retrieved her familiar’s own personalized ID card that verified her as a working service animal. 

Once cleared, she crossed through the warded entrance, closing her eyes as she passed through a veil of shimmery silvers and golds. She only let out a breath when the ironclad grip of its magic released her.  She hated going through there.  While she understood why they needed such protections, she wished they had a separate entry for lawyers like herself.  It was a small comfort in having Nightshade cross through at her side.

Inside, the foyer displayed portraits of notorious vampire figures along the walls, leading up to a spiral staircase.  Vampires in either dark crimson or sleek black suits passed her by, only offering curious glimpses as she made her way further inside.  She supposed many were used to her by now with how much she frequented the courthouse.

She was just grateful she’d thought to fly there early with how wicked the weather had been lately.  Reports of a blizzard had already flooded the streets, and Gwyneira dreaded to consider it.  After court, she’d need to check in with her father and make sure he had ample supplies if he were to be stuck inside for a week or so.  Perhaps she’d even stay with him until it passed.  Unless he got stuck at the hospital on a shift and couldn’t fly back home until it cleared.  

That had happened plenty of times over the years when they were kids.  Being the eldest daughter, Gwyneira always made sure to take care of her brother and sister when their father had to work. After they’d lost their mother, all they had left were each other.  Gwyneira only wished her siblings could stomach being in the same room as each other.

“Ms. Grimheart.” She spun around at the sound of her name and plastered on such a saccharine smile that could’ve given one cavities.  

“Mr. Bloodworth.” Gwyneira straightened her posture, inhaling a deep breath then releasing it slowly to calm her heart.  Nightshade bristled at her feet, but she knew to be on her best behavior in the courthouse.  

Never let a vampire sense your nerves.  Never let them smell your fears. Wise words she’d learned from her sister and her vampire hunting husband, and they had worked wondrously in a courtroom full of crafty bloodsuckers.  Mr. Bloodworth was one of the most cutthroat prosecutors in all of Sanguine City, and she was very relieved he had nothing to do with her current case.

The mere thought of going toe to toe with that vampire lawyer sent chills down her spine, yet that tiny thrilling part deep down in her wished she’d take on a case worthy enough to catch his attention.  She wanted to knock him off his high horse someday.

“You waste your talents away with trivial magic-misuse cases, Gwynevere.” The mispronunciation of her name rolled off his tongue as he ogled her like a piece of fresh meat.  

She was very glad to have her scarf covering her neck.  The bone-chilling temperature in the courthouse made it easy to keep it and her coat on because the vampires apparently couldn’t grasp the concept of heat.

Rumors had circulated the courtroom about Mr. Bloodworth’s predilection for mortal women he hired under the guise as partners. They turned them into nothing but paper-pushing blood bags for the esteemed lawyers. Gwyneira would rather someone hex her into a rat than work for the likes of someone like him.  

“Someone has to handle them, don’t they?” Gwyneira offered him her most charming smile, flashing her teeth so he knew she was more than capable of biting back.  “I have a case to prepare for, so if you don’t mind.” She side-stepped him, not bothering to spare a response back when he wished her good luck.  

Gwyneira marched down the corridor with her head held high, unbothered by the curious looks from other vampire lawyers who loitered about. Very few mortals chose a career dominated by the bloodsuckers. 

The law lets vampires get away with a lot of things that they shouldn’t.  Gwyneira had always dreamed of working her way up as a prosecutor for the Supernatural Council.  Not only did they represent the country of Valorath, but they worked in sectors all across the nation to fight for justice.  

There were only a handful of firms in the country run by witches like her, and nearly all of them had a vampire partner to handle court cases. Or to at least accompany them. Gwyneira did not. She had no need for a vampire bodyguard when she could take care of things herself.  Besides, most vampires who partnered with witches tended to cost a broom and a leg.  Those cunning bats sometimes included nefarious terms in their work contracts, like weekly blood feedings and outrageous dental health plans.

Once she reached the courtroom, she took a moment to steel herself before reaching for the ornate brass knob. Deep breath in.  Control your heartbeat.  Don’t let them sense any fears or nerves. The heavy wooden door opened with a thunderous creak that made vampire heads snap back in her direction.  Gwyneira kept her eyes trained on the only vampire in the room who mattered for her case.  The judge. 

Judge Alessia Valdine was perched in her chair at the bench, her luscious rose gold hair was tied back with a golden hair piece centered atop of her head. Two stray pieces framed her heart-shaped face.  

Gwyneira’s clients had arrived a bit earlier than her, already perched at the table  shivering like leaves in the blustering wind.  The granddaughter of Merlin Blackthorn sat close to her husband, squeezing his arm tightly, yet he fared no better than his wife.  Gwyneria was no vampire, but even she could smell the terror wafting from his rigid body.  

Sweat clung beneath his underarms in visibly damp rings.  He looked up at her as if he’d just seen a ghost before she took her seat beside them, offering her kindest smile as Nightshade perched down at their feet. “Cold night, isn’t it?  Glad you both made it here well.  You brought your court-issued passes, yes?”

Wynter, the granddaughter, nodded as she dipped a trembling hand down into her small leather black purse.  She pulled out two identical cards that glistened with gold trim, each signed by the judge herself.  The magic that wafted from them singed even Gwyneira’s nostrils.  They were issued to keep other vampires from bothering them on their flight to court.  

Any vampire who intentionally halted a person from their court proceeding would be fined and jailed for twenty years.  A measly tap on the fangs to them.

“There’s so many vampires here,” Wynter whispered, her gaze shifting behind them at rows of vampires that filled the gallery. “I thought… I don’t know. Why do they care about human cases?” 

“Most are waiting for their own cases to be heard. They come here out of curiosity or boredom.” Gwyneira shrugged. “Don’t mind them. They don’t matter. Only the judge does in our case.”

“Isn’t there supposed to be a vampire jury too?” Wynter glanced at the empty jury box.  

“No, not for our case because we’re not going to trial. Thank the stars above. We’re here to come to an agreement and make a settlement with Hallowgate Cemetery.” 

Soon enough, their opposing counsel waltzed inside the courtroom with their lawyer in tow. The two owners of Hallowgate took their seats opposite of them, clad in fancy crimson suits that matched the dark shade of their eyes. 

Vampire brothers, Vincent and Quinton, had owned the cemetery for over a century. They both practiced necromancy magic, from what Gwyneira had gathered from intel on the streets. She’d considered the possibility that one of them had sold the parts off for some extra bucks, but she unfortunately had no proof of that. 

Black market trading was dangerous. Gwyneira’s own line of work posed a lot of risks, but dabbling in the dark arts of Sanguine City was a death wish. The most ruthless, soulless kind bartered with body parts and dabbled into the most wicked of magic, including cursed objects. 

With everyone present, the judge had them all rise to recite the sacred oath they took before allowing the vampire lawyer, Mr. Caldwell, to plead his clients’ innocence. Gwyneira reassured her clients everything was standard procedure, and that they’d be able to plead their own case.  

Their lawyer went on a windy narrative about how much his clients did for the city, how they protected their dead and would never allow such a travesty to occur. However, it had.  The lawyer went on about how trustworthy they were, dating back centuries of their family bloodline tending to the dead.  He continued rambling so much, Gwyneira swore some of the vamps in the benches had taken a quick nap.

Finally, Judge Valdine acknowledged them and Gwyneira jumped to her feet. “Yes, your honor.  I represent the Blackthorn family, and we’re filing a lawsuit against both Vincent Night and Quinton Night for their lack of security and the emotional distress he caused my clients and their family.  As much as they pride themselves for their security, it sure was easy for someone to steal a corpse in the middle of the morning without a witness to be seen. Not only that, but nobody working at the cemetery could even locate my client’s dead grandfather.  He’s still out there, only Goddesses knows where.”

“No system is perfect,” Mr. Caldwell let out a strained laugh, tugging at the collar of his wrinkled white shirt.  “But you can’t seriously blame two innocent vamps trying to make a living out here and doing what they can to give folks a proper burial for their dead.  Neither of my clients stole the deceased or resurrected him, so why should they be held accountable?”

“It’s simple why they should be held accountable, your honor.” Gwyneira faced Judge Valdine, barely sparing any eye-contact with her opponent despite how she felt his own gaze searing into her. Like he wished to burn her alive right on the spot.  “They put it right in their contracts upon signing during burial arrangements that any damage to their deceased’s possessions would be replaced.  Which I’d like to enter as evidence.” She pulled out a copy of the contract the family had signed years ago after their grandfather had passed away, signed by both clients at the very bottom.  

Of course, such clauses were probably reserved for damage to the casket itself but they remained vague enough for Gwyneira to claim theft of the deceased’s body being eligible to receive such replacement. Nobody knew where Mr. Blackthorn had gone or who had taken him from his grave, which meant the cemetery was responsible for the loss and had to pay up.

“I know what you must be thinking, Your Honor. What price could one possibly put on a dead man?  Merlin Blackthorn was a beloved grandfather by his children, and now his soul can’t even rest peacefully.  Once a body is desecrated, the ghost feels it like an earthquake in their spiritual form.”

“That’s batshit, Your Honor.  Pardon my language, but since when is Ms. Grimheart an expert on ghosts?  Is she moonlighting as a medium now?” That earned him a handful of snickers from the bench behind them.  

“Please, stick with the facts, Ms. Grimheart.” Judge Valdine warned.

“Yes, of course, Your Honor.  Since opposing counsel mentioned an expert on ghosts, I’d like to bring one in to summon Mr. Blackthorn here with us today.  He’s a rather important person in this case, don’t you think?”

“Objection, Your Honor!” Mr. Caldwell ripened like a red tomato, and a vein in his forehead protruded so badly she swore it would burst.  “We agreed beforehand to not summon anyone’s spirit here today.  Ms. Grimheart can’t just change her mind now after your past ruling.”

“That was before you brought up a ghost expert,” Gwyneira pointed out.  “By law, if opposing counsel brings up an expert needed to prove something, I’m allowed to request one in order to do so.  Referencing Marusticia v. Cromwell. Yes, I know this case law was not here, but it has held precedence in your courtroom in the years past.” 

“Your Honor, you can’t seriously consider this outrageous request.” Mr. Caldwell shook his head.  “If Ms. Grimheart can’t even find a case law to reference from here in Valorath, it should be denied.”

It was difficult to determine what the judge was considering when her piercing gaze shifted from her to her opposing counsel.  If she denied it, Gwyneira still had another trick up her sleeve to play. However, Gwyneira had very little doubt she’d refuse.

“I accept your request for an expert, Ms. Grimheart.  Do you have one on hand or should the courts appoint one?” Judge Valdine asked, much to Mr. Caldwell’s dismay.

“We have someone on standby that the court is quite familiar with and has worked with in the past.” Gwyneira could not resist the urge to glance over at her opposing counsel and smirk.  “So, I’d like to summon Mr. Blackthorn to the stand.”