Arcane Circle c-4

by Linda Robertson

  “No offense taken, Theo. None meant to you, either. Protecting the people I care about comes first. Sometimes, it seems like saying less is safer for everyone.”

  “It’s okay, Seph. If I’ve learned anything in the investigative business, it’s that knowing when to share and when not to share is just as important and dicey as knowing whom to share with.”

  * * *

  With the spell scheduled for early tomorrow, and Nana busy with Beverley, it was time for me to get some answers to my lingering questions about what I intended to do.

  Using the satellite phone, I called Menessos from my bedroom. He answered on the third ring. Laughter in the background preceded his delayed greeting. “Hello, Persephone.” The sound of his voice caused warmth to flow over me like a slow, heated tremor. “What might I do for you?”

  “I wanted to ask you about the forced change ritual we did for Theo.”

  “The moonlight amplifying spell. Yes?”

  Another trill of female laughter trickled through the phone. My ears detected other sounds—rustling fabric?—and I heard a woman call, “Come back!”

  “Yes, that one,” I said quickly. “I need to repeat it for the wæres tomorrow morning and I have questions.”

  “By all means ask them, but give me one moment?”

  “Of course.”

  As I waited, the silence sounded like the inside of a seashell, and I guessed he had covered the receiver. Though muffled, I heard, “Get out.” Momentarily the sound of a shutting door followed and Menessos said, “Now you have my undivided attention. You will be casting the spell after the sun rises?”

  “Yes. You intervened before. You took over and all I did was sing. How can I be sure it will go the same way this time?”

  “You cannot be sure,” Menessos replied. “Since you have slain me and I cannot be with you in the daylight, it is impossible for the ritual to be executed in the same manner. In my opinion, it should not be the same.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We used the energies of others to help supply the magic because you had limited experience with using ley lines. Perhaps now you can fully fuel the ritual from the line.”

  “I was thinking I’d have to do that, but I’m not certain I want to.” Using the line could be dangerously addictive, more so in larger quantities, and this would definitely involve a larger quantity.

  “We forced four wæres to fully transform the first time—that was no simple task. How many are you attempting now, my dear, ambitious Persephone?”

  “There will be twenty or more. And it’s not because I’m ambitious. It’s because I agreed to reward them for coming to your aid.”

  “You have so many admirable qualities, not the least of which is your witchcraft. And speaking of witchcraft, I must say Heldridge’s witch is quite satisfactory.”

  “Was that her you just put out?”

  “Oh, yes, she’s put out.”

  I wasn’t certain how to take that, but I was convinced that he’d intended for me to be unsure.

  “She’s a very talented witch, you know. Not like you, my Lustrata master, but she has certain skills.” He cleared his throat. “She’s headstrong. She was not satisfied to be merely pampered in Heldridge’s court. She owns a confectionary shop. It is called DeMonique’s Boutique of Unique Chocolat, and is in Terminal Tower.”

  “I take it she’s French.”

  “Eva de Monique is many things, but first and foremost, she is French. French couture. French chef. French witch.”

  I wondered if he was trying to make me jealous. And then I wondered if he was succeeding. “That’s great,” I said quickly. “Perhaps you can publicly renounce me—send me home as unwilling to take orders or something—and make her your Erus Veneficus.” Maybe that would appease the local parents and Beverley wouldn’t be left in the middle, friendless.

  “You would leave me?” He sounded hurt.

  “If you have another witch you don’t need me.”

  “Forever will I need you, my master.” He put special emphasis on the word “need.” “She could be your apprentice.”

  “That’s backwards. She’s an experienced court witch. I’m not.”

  “That hardly matters since I dictate what her place is.”

  “But taking her would be a benevolent gesture to the others in Heldridge’s court.”

  “I have taken her.”

  Ignoring the remark, I went on. “What I meant was if you make her your EV then it shows the rest of them that you are willing to take them on. It might be the very thing to cement their loyalty to you.”

  “There are many ways to cement one’s loyalty. I could use her to show them the depths of my cruelty. Fear accomplishes much.”

  “Menessos.” I hoped he was teasing me.

  “It is expected that I should take Heldridge’s trophies. To give up my own for them is illogical.”

  “So dismissing me in favor of her would have meaning for them?”

  “You have been the single bright spot in all this darkness, Persephone.”

  When he said my name, I could smell cinnamon. He clearly hadn’t lost the ability to affect me by saying my name, but it had changed. The second hex evidently provided him a broader range in which to influence me, and a refined amount of control.

  I thought of the vampire PR campaign broadcasting the idea that vampire lords were merely executives who keep their employees, the vampire underlings, in line. I gave it one last shot. “This would be a good business decision for you, wouldn’t it?”

  “I find myself unwilling to part with you in that way.”

  But you’ll join with her in my stead. My jaw was clamped shut and I did not voice the thought. It was as if our bond, and the predilection for him it gave me, stoked up false jealousy. My inner smart-ass had always been easily riled.

  “And,” he continued, “since the witches have denounced you for becoming my EV, if I denied you as well, you’d have only the wærewolves left. They have little tolerance for witches. What you suggest is folly.”

  “Maybe this spell is folly,” I grumbled. “They will retain their man-minds without you being a part of the ritual, right?”

  “Yes. Magic is so fluid that spells are rarely performed the same exact way twice, what with planetary alignments always in motion changing the mixture of energies. Do not fret over this detail. The desired result is often reaccomplished. That is because of the spellcaster, and you, dear, delicious Persephone, are quite capable.”

  I’d just saved the final version of my column on the computer in the dining room when I caught a glimpse of headlights turning into the driveway. “Maxine and Zhan are back,” Mountain called out. He held the door for them as they came in, each with a sleeping bag and a pillow tucked under her arm. They allowed him to return to the grove and informed me it was their plan to alternate for night watch; whoever wasn’t on duty would unroll their bag and sleep on the couch.

  I handed Maxine the TV remote and headed upstairs. Pausing atop the steps, I eavesdropped on Beverley and Nana playing Old Maid. On any other day, I would have tried to get in on a game, but not today. Not after Beverley’s outburst. Not with all I still had to do.

  I considered telling Nana about Eris showing up when she was done with Beverley. But it wouldn’t be that simple. I couldn’t just drop the bombshell and walk away. She’d want to talk. Nana had her own guilt trip about the way she’d raised me.

  I was already emotionally drained and still had to review the spell for tomorrow. Plus, Johnny had had a hell of a day himself. He’d be home soon. He’d need me, too.

  Eris hadn’t been part of Nana’s life or mine for a long time. Announcing her sudden reentry … and exit … could wait.

  I got my Book of Shadows out, took the copy of the Trivium Codex from Nana’s room, and sat down to study.

  * * *

  When Johnny finally arrived home, he snuggled in beside me, naked, spooning his warm, warm self right against me. His arm sn
aked around my waist. I ran my nails lightly up and down his forearm and asked, “How’d it go?”

  “The families of Robert Connor and Brian Kimball are grieving and in disbelief,” he said.

  It seemed important to him to say their names, just as it had been important for me to know Ross’s name. “Did you know either of them?”

  “No.” His whisper was full of regret. “But now I know about them. Robert was laid off when his factory job was outsourced and his wife, Donna, is waitressing at a Bob Evans out in Beachwood. He’d been jobless for months and she said he thought if he got in good with me, he might be able to work as part of my security. She didn’t want him to. She thought it was too dangerous.” He squeezed me. “She was right.” He sighed into my hair. “They had two sons before he contracted the virus. They’re twelve and fourteen now. Bright kids. He volunteered in order to provide for them, and now they don’t have him anymore.”

  Recognizing the guilt in his voice all too well, I rolled to face him.

  “It’s hard for them with no body.” The superheated beam had left nothing of those it claimed. “Seeing him, his corpse, that would make it more real.”

  “Not just for the families.”

  “Yeah. I’m having a hard time, too, Red.”

  He was silent while I stroked his cheek.

  “You know what it’s like,” he whispered. “The Eldrenne gave her life for yours.” His fingers fidgeted with the bottom of the tank top I’d worn to bed. “In my mind, I can understand that Robert and Brian did the same, they gave their lives for a greater good, but …”

  He didn’t finish, so I did. “But your heart has a hard time accepting that you’re the instrument of that greater good.”

  “Exactly,” he whispered. He grasped a lock of my hair and tickled under my chin with the tips.

  I pushed myself against him under the covers, slid my knee up to his hip.

  He shifted gears but not in the way I expected. He asked, “Are you all set for the ritual?”

  “I made a list of the supplies I need to gather up tomorrow morning, but I have everything so it’ll be quick.” My hands wandered. My lips found his. My tongue tasted an oaky sweet flavor. “Todd get the Laphroaig out again?”

  “When it was all over, Todd, Kirk, and I toasted our fallen comrades privately. Said some words to the crescent moon.”

  He took my roving hands in his and said, “Tell me about your day.”

  Is he seriously not in the mood? “Are you drunk?”

  “No.”

  “You realize you just asked me how my day was and stopped my hands from fondling you?”

  “I’m a regular dreamboat, ain’t I? Being the sensitive guy interested in your monotonous day and all that.”

  “Yeah, because ‘monotonous’ is certainly the one word I’d use to describe my days lately.”

  The sarcasm made us both feel better. So I tried another dose of it. “What’d that Laphroaig do to you?”

  “I didn’t think it could get any worse than you making me hold that vamp’s hand and sharing a piece of my soul with him. But a battle, a chest wound, the probing you and I did, all followed by the long-ass day I had … it left me with some tight muscles in my neck and shoulders. The single-malt Scotch loosened ’em up. I get a rain check, though, right?”

  I smoothed his black curls away from his forehead and fingered the white-gold loops piercing his brow. He’d removed the little studs from his nose and hadn’t worn them in a while. “You can have whatever you want.”

  “Oooo.” He kissed my forehead. “So tell me. What’d I miss here?”

  He had no desire to make love at all. I’d seen him like this once before: after seeing his father figure, Ig, bedridden and terribly ill. Right now he needed intimacy, but not sex. “The good news is, the barns and the coop are up and need minor finishing touches tomorrow. The poles are in and ready for electric to be installed. The well is dug. You met Maxine and Zhan?”

  “Zhan must be the one asleep on the couch. Maxine introduced herself, told me she was security sent by the vamp. She recognized me from the ceremony at the haven, but I couldn’t say I remembered her. Though I did compliment her on the Audi.”

  Nana’s old LeBaron with the AARP sticker in the back window really wasn’t the kind of car Johnny could be comfortable in. And the Domn Lup should have at least eight cylinders in his engine. If things ever settled down, maybe we could do something about that. “Tomorrow the well pump will be installed, Mountain’s mobile home is coming, and they’ll get more of Nana’s addition done.”

  He was silent, then said, “Was there bad news?”

  “Plenty. Xerxadrea’s body was identified. Vilna-Daluca stopped by with the lucusi to be sure I knew they were pissed at me.”

  “Oh goody.”

  I snuggled under his chin and let my arm drape over his side. “And guess what else?”

  “There’s more?”

  “Always.” I started to tell him about my mother’s visit, but I could feel tears burning my eyes at the thought of mentioning it. Considering what Theo had said about Johnny being overwhelmed by weeping women today, I decided not be another crying female he had to deal with. I could tell him later, too.

  I did, however, tell him about Nana and me having our little disagreement and fixing it, and about the calls from worried parents coming in this evening. “And to top it all off Beverley’s mad at me.” I felt awful again just thinking about it. I told him what had happened with her. “I’m not sure what to do about her party. I guess I’ll have to leave for the day, but the bigger issue remains.”

  “What bigger issue?”

  “Me.” I sat up and wrapped my arms around my knees. “I want her to have a normal childhood, Johnny. She deserves that. But with me being the Lustrata and you being the Domn Lup, how is that ever going to happen?”

  Johnny’s fingers trailed over my back for a few heartbeats, then he sat up and mimicked my pose. “Her mother became a wærewolf when Beverley was just a baby. From the very start, Red, her path was never going to be the Norman Rockwell version of a normal life—whatever that is. Her mother had a vampire lover and she was murdered by a rogue witch. Don’t beat yourself up because you can’t provide normal. You provide love.”

  I bit my lip. “What if that’s not enough for her?”

  “How could it not be?”

  Laying my head on my knees, I let the sadness rise up. “She said that everything got screwed up after her mom started letting Goliath drink from her. She depends on me, she’s lost everything, and now her party may be ruined because I’m letting Menessos drink from me.” The tears fell. “She’s never going to trust me.”

  Johnny’s arm wrapped my shoulders and he pulled me to him. “Yes, she will.”

  “I’m bound to him, Johnny. I can’t undo it.”

  “Would you, if you could, for her?”

  “I might.”

  “You did the right thing for the right reason,” he said.

  It was my former mantra, but now I hated each syllable. “I chose to act for justice. But I didn’t see how any of it could trickle down and encroach on her life.” Miserably, I added, “I should have.”

  “You acted. Of course the situation changed afterward. Most people would have been immobilized by their fear. Not you. In the moment, you did what was right. You always do—because of that you saved her life at the Covenstead. Because you’re willing to take action. You can’t reevaluate your past based on current events. What’s done is done. You can only make changes to the present and hope for the best future to come.”

  Johnny laid back and pulled me close so my head lay on his shoulder. I felt safe in his arms and I let his words reassure me as he idly stroked my hair.

  Sleep had almost claimed me when he whispered, “Maybe you could wear a disguise to the party.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Johnny cuddled close and whispered into my ear, “You know, technically, a shower is a lot like rain.”
r />   “What?” I asked over my shoulder, wiping away sleep. The clock read six-fifty. The sun wasn’t up yet.

  He ran his fingers from my thigh to my hip and let his warm palm rest on my waist under the tank top I’d slept in. “Thought I might cash in that rain check in the shower.”

  “You mean the shower that’s so close to Nana and Beverley’s rooms?”

  “We can be quiet.”

  “The day I orgasm quietly will be a bad day.”

  He beamed at that remark. “Yeah, you are noisy. I dig it.” He brushed hair from the nape of my neck and bit me gently. My reaction to that was arching my back and wishing ardently for thicker walls. When I moaned in quiet frustration, he twisted to sit on the side of the bed. “But that would be a little brazen, wouldn’t it?”

  I rolled over to watch the red foo dog and black dragon tattoos dance on his back as his muscles bunched in a stretch. “Nana hasn’t breathed a word about us sharing a bed, yet. It’s a good idea to refrain from tempting her beyond her ability not to butt in.”

  “Good for whom?”

  He had a point.

  Johnny grabbed his pants from the floor and held them modestly in front of him as he stood and faced me. “Probably a wise call, but,” moving the jeans aside, he added, “I can’t say my ‘morning wood’ agrees.”

  Every nerve ending sizzled when I saw him. I threw the covers off and knee-walked across the bed. His deep blue eyes, framed in messy dark curls, capture me as I reached out and fondled him. “It’d be a shame to waste it.”

  “It would.”

  Though he slept naked, I didn’t. I released him to roll my tank top up slowly, teasingly. He followed its revealing progress, breathing faster. When I pulled it over my head, he responded by pushing my boy shorts down and letting his hands wander until he discovered how wet I was. I wiggled out of the shorts and dropped them to the floor. “Ta-da.”

  “If you skipped the pj’s you wouldn’t have to go through all that.” He moved closer. Holding me, he nibbled on my ear and nuzzled into my hair. “You smell so good,” he said.