I picked up the receiver from my desk phone and dialed his number. Suddenly the sound of Motley Crue’s “Looks That Kill” filled the living room. He turned and looked askance at me. I shrugged. “I wanted to know what my ringtone was.”
He turned away. I hung up the phone and walked into the living room.
“So you got a contract. That’s fantastic.” I wished it had come out more enthusiastically. Something of greater value.
“Haven’t signed it yet.”
“Why not?” I asked, surprised. “It’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“I want a lot of things.”
The muscles in my neck and shoulders felt so taut they might snap. I moved past him and sat on the couch, off to the far end. “I have something to say. And I don’t want you to interrupt me.” He nodded. “I couldn’t figure out if I had done what we did because I wanted to or if the stain was in charge. I had to sort some things out and, until I knew for certain, I couldn’t falsely let you think all was perfect. I see now that my reaction may have made you think I was regretful, childish, and scared. I don’t know if I was more afraid that it was the stain or more afraid it would be just me because then, if it was me, then what I felt would be … real.
“I came to the show to tell you that I’d figured it out.” I paused. “I hadn’t heard the band before. You guys sound great. Celia had said you were a great singer but I didn’t know how …” I struggled for the right word.
“Look Red, Celia told me she saw you at the show. And that you hightailed it out of there after we left the stage.”
Realizing my lowered eyes was a defeatist position, my chin raised to face him squarely. I’d done nothing to be ashamed of. I wouldn’t be the embarrassed one here. I put on a mirthless smile. “My exit was so fast I left my leather blazer in the coat check.”
“I know what you saw,” he said, hands sliding into his pockets. “And I want to explain.”
“You don’t have to. You don’t owe me anything.” My voice was flat, firm, and void of emotion.
Those Wedjat-tattooed eyes fixed on me. “Yes, I do.”
I waited, unaffected. Blank.
He knew I had mastered the skill he’d taught me; the sorrow he couldn’t hide made it clear. “They are Samantha and Cameron Harding, Sammi and Cammi.”
“As in Harding Bank?” I’d seen their commercials.
“Yeah. They’re the forty-something twins whose rich daddy died and left them his banks, so they kind of don’t live in the same world we do, if you know what I mean. They’ve been waere for six years and even bankrolled an underground vault with kennels inside for waere employees to use. They’re good friends of Celia’s; she often refers clients to their banks for financing. They put the money up for Lycanthropia’s CD.”
I waited, hands in my lap.
“I thought it was cool they’d got all Gothed up and come to the gig. I pulled them up onstage so they could go back to the Green Room with us. That kiss was totally unexpected. After seeing you, Celia came back in and ripped them both a new one.” He chuckled. “You should’ve seen it.”
Seeing Celia get mad was an uncommon thing, but I knew from our college days she was formidable.
“Turns out they’d been seeing some guy for years, a happy threesome, kenneling with him and all, and they had just broken up with him. Guess they decided to make me the next object of their affection. Celia disabused them of that pretty damned fast. Maybe a little too harshly considering the business relationship and all.”
He turned his head and looked out the window for a moment.
“Without the boyfriend, they couldn’t exactly kennel with their employees, and had no backup place to go. They asked Celia if they could join her and Erik—she said she tried to call you. Anyway, Celia couldn’t tell them no. She wanted to mend the business fences but she’d already said the other couple—Steve and Cherynna—could come.”
I looked him up and down, taking in his posture, his expression, but I kept my thoughts to myself. He had more yet to explain.
“So, they kenneled here, and yeah, they kenneled with me. There was nowhere else for them to be. I couldn’t give them my kennel and hang with another male; he’d just want to fight. If I’d known Celia and Erik would retain their human minds, we could have kenneled together and dealt with the teasing. But I didn’t know that. I just knew I could kennel with the twins without incident. No mating happened, and if you don’t believe me, any of them who kept their minds can tell you. Theo had one wolf trying to mount her; I had two trying to get under me. My solution was to curl up and sleep, snarling at them if they got too close. I figured they’d wake up and assume whatever they wanted, but I’d know the truth.” He waited for me to say something.
I said, “So what advice did Celia give you about explaining all this to me?”
He came closer and lowered himself to sit on the floor with his back to the couch. Though he was facing away from me, I could hear him clearly as he said, “Grovel at your feet.” He laid his head on my knee.
“Johnny, stop.” My irritation was clear and he turned quickly. “The Domn Lup doesn’t grovel at anyone’s feet.”
“Damn what?”
“You know what I said. You’ve researched the Lustrata; you know what the Domn Lup is and you know you are he.”
“Wolf King.”
“So get up.”
He made a swift little bounce of a move and was on the couch next to me. The furniture frame creaked a complaint. “Red, this is miscommunication, pure and simple. I want it to be right again.”
I stood up and paced away, arms wrapped around myself. “You moved out fast enough to make it seem like you were eager to get out.” I turned back.
“Let me see,” he said, crossing his arms and placing one finger thoughtfully at the corner of his mouth. “Live at my own place or be obligated into tooling around town in a rusty Le Sabre all winter? Tough decision.”
He was trying to be funny, but I wasn’t into it. “Pardon my self-centeredness, but didn’t I figure into that equation at all?”
“I didn’t take everything. After what you’d seen, I figured you might throw my guitar outside or something. If it didn’t break, the neck would warp.” He got up and came to me. He put his hands on my arms. “I only took the stuff I didn’t want to risk losing. The guitar was pretty much it. And some clothes.”
Things weren’t as I’d feared and I could accept that. He sounded like he wanted to come back. Nana said I needed him here and, just then, I felt like it might work. But, as Amenemhab had said, I couldn’t control how other people reacted. I had to know if he could take it, if he could handle my connection to Menessos. Not that I wanted to provoke him, just I needed to know. “I saw Goliath at the show,” I said. “Made sure Menessos knew about the fairy’s warning.”
“That’s—that’s good.” I could see that he was trying to be cool about it.
“He said that was a regular thing for them, getting threats. That I’d better get used to it.”
“I still don’t think the fey are any threat to them.”
Looking over his shoulder and through the window, I saw a white van slow down on the road and pull into my driveway. The side of it read Incomparable Deliveries, LTD. “Just a minute,” I said.
At the door, I waited as a little man in dark blue coveralls and matching cap carried a long, wide rectangular box to the porch. Grinning, he said, “Ms. Alcmedi?”
“Yes?”
“These are for you, miss.” He handed them over.
Though the box was about four inches deep, it wasn’t heavy. “Do I sign?”
“No. That’s all taken care of, miss. You have a good day, now.” He was already on his way back to the van.
“You order something?” Johnny asked.
“No.” I set the box on the chair, checked the label. “Oh.” The descending note of my voice belied my dissatisfaction.
“What?” he asked, coming closer.
“It’
s from Menessos.”
Instantly, I could feel jealousy jacketing his aura. “Open it up,” he said.
It seemed he was going for cheerfully-okay-with-it but what came out was I-hate-his-evil-guts. “I need scissors.”
“Here.”
Before I could move away, Johnny offered me his pocketknife. “Thanks.”
Inside the cardboard box was a white box. I tried to remove it, but Johnny stepped in to slide the outer box away while I held the inner one. It was similar to a department store dress box, but the embossed seal in the top wasn’t one I recognized. Lifting it gingerly, I set the lid aside and peeled back the different shaded layers of purple tissue paper. Inside was a costume gown of black and copper velvet, including the matching mask and shoes. Even jewelry.
“Oh my.”
“Figures,” Johnny said. He pointed at Ariadne. “More gifts to obligate you.”
My anger was rising. The heat in my core was like a just-stoked furnace. “You know, I don’t try to foster your jealousy but I have to talk to someone about what’s going on in my life, and that’s a part of the job I thought you wanted. I’ve been tiptoeing around it, and that’s over. You could certainly choose to fight that emotion and do better than just giving up in the face of it, Domn Lup.”
“Are you going to taunt me with that title now?”
“Not if you act like the king you are.”
“You’re bound to that vamp. I don’t want to watch you succumb to his ploys!”
“Because I’m just a dumb little girl who doesn’t see him for what he is?”
He straightened. “No. The Lustrata is not a ‘dumb little girl.’ ” He started to add to that, but I spoke first.
“When are you going to succumb to trusting me?” My shoulders squared.
Johnny shut his mouth. He didn’t look happy.
“It’s as simple as making that choice, isn’t it?” I paused, but he still said nothing. “I’ve learned my lesson. Waffling over things that should be clearly black and white, smearing it until everything is all gray, is bad. It leaves me uncertain what to think about it, let alone what to feel about it.”
He put hands on hips and managed to seem irate and thoughtful.
“Do you think I can control what Menessos does?” I didn’t have to tell him that to a degree, I possibly could. “Should I wave my wand and make him stop sending me things because it makes you feel bad? Or should I wave my wand and make you grow up?”
“Are your pretty painting and your pretty costume worth the rest of your life?”
A personal confrontation with someone I’d been intimate with usually made me cower, made me back down and give in just to stop the fight. But not now. Not as the Lustrata. “Worth?” I repeated. “What is the value of the Lustrata’s life, Johnny?” Sauntering close and glaring up at him without fear or anger, I said, “I’m not sure what it’s worth, but I am well aware of what price must be paid. I am aware the due bill will only get longer, never shorter. And I am aware that your jealousy vexes me.” I nearly spat the last before returning to the box and gazing down into it. “There are things you don’t yet understand.”
“Then enlighten me.” He sounded mesmerized. Maybe on some level he could detect the change the glowing armor-mantle of the Lustrata symbolized.
I said:
“Lustrata I am … and yet untested.
I’ve come too far to not be invested
Deep in the role that is consuming
My remade life while Destiny’s looming.”
He whispered, “Enlighten me!”
Did I tell him that Menessos was mine to control and not the other way around? More secrets wouldn’t help. Ease in to it, I thought. “I figured out my troublesome issues with the stain.”
“And?”
“You have no reason to let any stab of jealousy wound you.”
I expected him to ask why, to press me for every detail, and I was prepared to tell him. But he stood there with this look of awe on his face. When he spoke, he said, “Do the right thing, for the right reason. It’s not just words to you. It’s a way of life.”
“And that is why I’m asking you this: Is the recording contract worth the rest of your life?”
“What do you mean?”
“You need to check into exactly who offered you the contract. Maybe Theo can dig up the truth, but Goliath was entertaining A&R friends at the Rock Hall that night. It’s cause for suspicion.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Not one light was on in the house, but it was aglow with burning candlewicks. The scents of pumpkin pie and licorice and spices made simply breathing a pleasure.
In addition to the real pumpkin pie, Nana had made us a feast of pork, her version of colcannon (which was just mashed potatoes with fried onions on top), and peas and cornbread. While pork, like the pie, is a typical Hallowe’en staple, the colcannon is specifically Celtic. The rest was typically Nana.
I filled a plate with some of each item, then set it to the side and picked up one of the smaller plates and put a slice of pie on it, added a dollop of whipped cream.
Beverley asked, “Are you eating the meat?”
“Nope,” I said.
“Is that mine or Demeter’s?”
“Neither.”
“Is Johnny coming back?”
I hesitated. “Not tonight.”
“Then who’s it for?” she asked suspiciously.
I handed her the small plate. “Follow me.”
Leading her to the dining room, I set the plate at the head of the table, where I’d already arranged the silverware, and poured a glass of wine. Nana came to stand beside the table.
“On Hallowe’en,” I said, “the veil between the worlds is said to be at its thinnest. So on this night, we set a special table for those we love who have passed on.”
Beverley whispered, “This is for my mom.”
“It is.”
She turned and bolted so fast I feared the pie would hit the floor. Nana and I shared a look; neither of us had expected she’d react like this.
“Beverley—” I stepped back into the kitchen and stopped, seeing the girl rummaging through the spices.
“It has to be right. Give me a minute,” she said.
“Okay.”
I slipped back into the dining room and waited beside Nana.
When Beverley returned with the pie, cinnamon was sprinkled over the whipped cream. She set it reverently on the table beside the plate of food before stepping back.
“That’s the way she liked hers.” I could hear tears in her voice.
“This place at our ‘special gatherings’ table is set for Lorrie Kordell. We ask you to visit us, Lorrie, and we honor your memory in hopes you will join us.”
We passed the tissue box around, then filled our own plates and sat at the dinette in the kitchen. “Can I sit in the dining room with Mom?”
“Of course,” I said.
Beverley picked up her plate.
“Do you want us to join you?”
She turned back, smiling despite the tears on her cheeks. “Yeah. We’d like that.”
After dinner, Beverley went upstairs to get her costume on.
Nana said, “She’s strong, that girl.”
“I know.” I admired her.
“As strong as you were as a girl.” Nana left to go and help Beverley.
By the time I had the kitchen cleaned up—except for Lorrie’s plate, which would sit overnight—I heard them at the top of the steps, singing a song from the movie we’d just watched. Nana’s singing voice was a raspy, gravelling undertone to Beverley’s breathy falsetto.
Hurrying down the hallway, I grabbed the digital camera and started taking pictures as they descended. Beverley was a lovely mermaid of green and gold with a dozen strands of Mardi-Gras beads around her neck. It reminded me of Aquula’s pearls. I wondered what Beverley would think if she ever met Aquula.
“You look fantastic!” I said.
“You think
?”
“Absolutely!”
Suddenly, Nana stumbled on the last step.
Lunging forward, I caught her under the arm and kept her on her feet. I didn’t even drop the camera.
“Oh my,” she said, hand over her heart.
“Are you okay?”
“My knee. It just gave out.”
“To the couch,” I said, not fully releasing her as I helped her get there and sit.
Wide-eyed, Beverley asked, “Wow, Seph. That was fast.”
“And lucky for me,” Nana said.
I said, “It’s time to put the crystal away, Nana.”
She wouldn’t meet my eyes, so I knew she’d been peeking into it.
Not wanting to take a chance she might end up with a broken hip or worse, I left her and went up to her room. Taking her crystal from the dresser, stand and all, I placed it in a shoebox on the top shelf of my closet.
As I returned to Nana, I noticed movement in the dining room. Beverley’s hand was curled on the top of the chair-back, her head tipped as if she were laying her head on someone’s shoulder. “I miss you so much,” I heard her whisper.
“The contractors will be here to give me quotes over the next few days. Let’s keep your trips on the stairs to a minimum until we can get the addition done for you, okay?”
Not one to appreciate being made to feel old or feeble in any way, Nana simply nodded.
Beverley joined us. “Can you still take me to Lily’s party?”
“You bet I can,” Nana said and stood, resolve hardening her features.
It was six forty-five and as I watched them go, I noted that the sun had set, and that the sky was a beautiful shade of blue and growing ever darker. I heard rustling in the corn, but again, the stalks were too thick to see the deer.
Inside, I carried my box from Menessos up to the bedroom. Now I had to shower, get ready, and do something with my hair that would work with a tie-on mask.
With a soft towel wrapped around my now-clean body, and my blow-dried hair wrapped around hot rollers, I studied my costume. The clear shoe box, with pointy-toed black stilettos, made me frown. Cinderella’s shoes weren’t quite this high-heeled, and she’d run out of one on the steps. My feet wouldn’t know how to function in that position. I’d likely fall and break my neck before I ever made it near the stairs. Those shoes were going to miss the Ball and take up residence in the back of my closet.
Hallowed Circle (Persephone Alcmedi 02) Page 25