The Pegasus Marshal's Mate (U.S. Marshal Shifters 2)

“It’s all right,” he called out. “It’s over.”

“That’s Chief Deputy Martin Powell,” he heard Colby say. “Hold all fire.”

“That’s a fucking order,” Gretchen added, with a sharpness that told him they had spent this whole time wrestling for control. There was no arguing with that voice.

Attaboy. Attagirl.

Martin opened the door the rest of the way, letting the assembled crowd see that the courtroom was indeed carnage-free.

“I don’t want anyone in here but my team.”

He would have sworn that the SWAT team actually managed to convey even through those black all-face visors of theirs that they felt hurt by this. No one replicated playground dynamics like law enforcement agencies, he thought.

He added, “And keep the perimeter secure around back, too.”

That at least gave the SWAT boys something to do. He heard their radios eagerly start to chirp, conveying this information.

Colby, Gretchen, and Theo strode into the courtroom.

Theo went at once to Tiffani and hugged her. His dragonmarks, visible now that he’d dropped his guard, were all aglow. If anything had happened to his mate’s stepmother, Martin knew it would have taken everything in Theo not to shift then and there to burn down the person responsible.

But he would have had to wait in line.

“We’re so happy you’re both safe,” Theo said.

“I’m safe too,” McMillan said in his prissy voice. “I am the one the gun was pointed at for the vast majority of the time.”

“We’re glad you’re safe too, Your Honor,” Gretchen said in what Martin suspected was a deliberately lifeless voice. “And your clerk.”

“Oh, no,” Martin said. “Not ‘and his clerk.’ Colby, can I borrow

your cuffs?”

“Sure, boss.” Colby unclipped them from his belt and handed them over. “But I don’t think this kid’s going anywhere.”

“It’s not the kid I’m worried about,” Martin said grimly.

He wasn’t surprised to see Colby help Jamie up. He was as gentle with him as if he’d been the victim in all this and not the one holding the gun. Colby had a soft spot a mile long for his punk kids, and Martin trusted that with him taking the lead on handling Jamie, Jamie would do much better bouncing back from this crime than he had the last. He felt good about that.

But not as good as he felt about clicking those cuffs on Bruce’s wrists.

“The gun wouldn’t have fired,” Bruce said desperately. “I deliberately used a printing model that wouldn’t work, he couldn’t have shot anyone!”

“No.” He was so angry that he could barely unclench his jaw long enough to talk. “But I could have shot him. You probably didn’t even think about that. Everyone was just a little pawn in your game.”

He hauled Bruce around by the cuffs, turning until he was glaring at McMillan.

“And you, Your Honor. You bring that hammer of yours down on so many kids that you don’t even recognize them when they show up in your courtroom again. And you run roughshod over this whole courthouse—it’s a mystery to me that it took as long as it did for you to attract this kind of trouble.”

“Chief,” Gretchen said, touching his elbow. “Let’s maybe not get in trouble.”

“This is worth the trouble,” Martin said. “Now, I can’t control the sentences you pass, aside from voting against you—which believe me, I take a lot of pleasure in doing. But if I hear again of you treating the people who work for you the way you’ve been treating Tiffani, and hell, maybe even Bruce here... I will do everything in my power to get you disbarred for unprofessional conduct.”

McMillan just looked at him. Maybe he thought Martin was lying. Or just blowing off steam.

Maybe he had been who he was for so long that all of this just rolled off of him. He wouldn’t change because he wouldn’t let himself learn.

“That’s quite a speech,” McMillan said icily. “Forgive me if I’m unimpressed.”