by Heloise Hull
“Are you going to untie me?” I asked.
“No.” Manu pushed me to the stool and put pressure on my shoulder. My knees buckled and I sat with a hmph. My stomach knotted sickly as I stared up at my judges. The creature on the bone chair stood, his robe falling like silk around his shoulders to reveal a long, pale neck.
“Please state your name for the record,” he intoned, fangs appearing at the corners of his mouth, extending to his paper-thin skin. It looked like they needed a little whittling down. His voice scratched like bristle pads, and his eyes were blood red. I had a sinking feeling I knew what he was.
“Ava Falcetti,” I said, hoping my veins weren’t too visible.
“Of?” he barked.
“St. Louis, Missouri?” I said it like a question.
Manu bent down as the Council let out dismayed hisses at my stupidity. “Your parents. Of such and such.”
“Oh, well I never knew my parents. They died when I was a baby,” I said, giving the standard answer I’d always been told.
A knobbly creature stood to the left of the vampire, barely coming up to his thigh. I was going to go with a garden gnome. She tittered, but I couldn’t tell if it was mirth directed at me or with me. “No parents?”
“I’m sure I had parents.”
“Not every supernatural creature is born of muck and misery.” She raised an eyebrow. “I was created with mud and magic.”
“Oh,” I started, taken aback. Apparently garden gnomes liked alliteration. I let the moment drag into silence. A few members shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
A stout man adjusted a monocle and peered over it at me. He looked normal, other than an excessive amount of graying hair protruding from his nose and ears. “Do you know anything about who you are?” he asked in a gravelly voice that sounded like he was chewing rocks.
“I… Well… What do you…” I stammered.
The vampire in the center scoffed. He nodded to a large figure I hadn’t noticed before in the shadows. It was hulking and vaguely humanoid, with a spear strapped across its back. A security guard, perhaps. “Take it,” the vampire commanded him.
I jumped to my feet as the figure stalked toward me. “Take what exactly?” I asked.
He didn’t respond or slow down.
Fear rippled through my extremities, and Manu made no move to protect me. He simply stared straight ahead with his arms crossed.
“It will only hurt if you resist,” said the vampire. He glided forward, making it hard to tell if he was taking steps.
I jerked back, my hands in a makeshift cross in front of my face to ward him off. The vampire laughed a low, wet laugh that sounded deep in his chest, like he had a bad case of blood consumption.
“Wait!” I yelled, hoping for any sort of stall I could get.
They didn’t wait. The whites of the guard’s eyes glittered under the blackness of his hood, his ink black spear a deadly weapon in his hands. My mind fumbled for my magic, but it felt as if there were some sort of dampening shield around the chamber. Or was it the Gordian Knot? It always seemed to knock me on my butt whenever Manu slapped it on. Either way, it amounted to the same thing. Me, defenseless.
“Manu!”
The vampire glided closer.
“Help me!”
“Don’t struggle,” Manu said. “It’ll only make it worse.”
The vampire’s mouth widened, his fangs extending past his lips now. Terror jolted through me, my mind screaming at me to escape. Here was a true monster, and all I could do was squirm helplessly in my bonds.
The guard jabbed his spear under my chin, forcing it up, laying bare my beating pulse. My throat was painfully exposed, but at least I couldn’t see the vampire anymore.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I said, almost petulantly.
That wet, delighted voice murmured in my ear. “Then you won’t mind us testing that theory.”
“I do. I do mind.” His icy breath moved from my ear down to my cheek. I felt it on my neck. “Wait,” I said desperately. “Shouldn’t I get representation or a lawyer or something first?”
I felt the tiniest pinprick of pain and a warm gush from the spot. Was he really drinking my blood?
A second later, the spear lifted and I shook my head to clear the fog. Before me, the vampire held a vial. He capped it with a glass stopper and handed it off to another Council member whose face I couldn’t see. Then he glided back to his bone chair.
“Now that that’s over—” he began, but I interrupted him.
“Oh, it’s far from over,” I said, summoning all the courage I had. “I won’t forget the complete betrayal of my body anytime soon.”
He brushed off the threat and clasped his fingers together on his lap. “Do you know what the tattoo on your back symbolizes?”
“Of course not,” I snapped. “I don’t even know who you are.”
The vampire raised one eyebrow. “I am Giuseppe Bruno, head of the Council of Beings. It is my solemn obligation to ensure the gods never return to our realm. I dedicate my life to this work and would destroy anyone who would seek to do so.”
“I don’t want to bring back the gods, either, so why am I being punished?”
“You’re not being punished. You’re being investigated. There is a difference, Signora.”
“For what?”
“You broke a god’s curse.”
“I looked at the moon and touched my friend.”
“She’s a demon.”
“She’s nice, which is more than I can say for you.”
“Show us the tattoo.”
“You want to undress me in front of a bunch of strangers? I don’t think so, buddy.”
Bruno nodded to the guard again, and I jumped, managing to only fall off the stool onto my shoulder with my wrists still tied. Manu and the guard struggled to right me as I kicked and fought back. Now that the ancient vampire wasn’t in close proximity, I felt normal again, like he’d been hypnotizing me.
“Contain her,” Bruno said irritably.
I bit Manu’s hand, making him curse in at least two dead languages, but they succeeded in manhandling me back on the stool and pulled down the back of my shirt. The moment the kohl-lined eyes and solar disc were exposed, the whole Council gasped. One wizened old woman with yellowing, linen strips protruding from under her robes stood. Her chair was gold and lapis lazuli with lion-headed hand rests. A mummy. An Egyptian one by the looks of it. Hanging between her breasts was a rather large pectoral with a vulture in the center and griffins around the edges.
“The Eye of Ra,” she whispered. She shuffled closer, her wrappings dragging behind her as she approached. “I am Mestjet. Once a magician-priestess to Pharaoh Senwosret III. I composed many of the Coffin Texts in the Book of Two Ways.”
That sounded impressive, I had to admit. “Congratulations,” I ventured. “But I have no idea how this got on me. I’m one hundred percent Italian. I swear!”
She studied me intensely. “You have a dual personality to you. Most women do. It’s what has been written since the dawn of time. Women are feline by nature. We waver between domesticated house cat, curled when content, but transform into a violent lioness when angered. Men have always been frightened by this nature.” Here, she shot a death glare at Bruno. I liked her better immediately. “You have heard of the Eye of Horus, I presume?”
I did a sort of hand flutter.
“Ah. Well, most mortals know of the Eye of Horus in Egyptian mythology. It is a symbol of protection, warding off evil in the afterlife by the grace of Horus. The Eye of Ra is something else entirely. A feminine counterpart to the mighty Ra, his protector, a violent force to subdue his enemies. You’ve been marked, somehow. By whom is the question.”
“And why?” Bruno said grimly.
My intestines coiled like snakes in my stomach. This was the solar image Thessaly had seen that night on the rock when I’d un-cursed her. The Eye of Ra. I knew they were all thinking the same thing. Why me?
<
br /> I cleared my throat. Maybe the only way out of this mess was to tell the truth. “I’m innocent, I promise. I’m not the Eye of Ra.” I had the Council’s undivided attention. The force of their gazes weighed on my body like sandbags. “I’m the She-Wolf of Rome.”
“Can you prove this?” barked Mestjet.
“Not exactly, but I have her memories. I remember suckling the twins and watching Romulus kill his brother Remus.”
“Simple information that could be acquired anywhere.”
Desperately, I blurted out my suspicions. “She reincarnated. I can remember bearing twins through the centuries. Queens, nobles, commoners. Always twins doomed to fail. Doomed to die young and unfulfilled.”
Mestjet exchanged glances with Bruno. They looked intrigued, but not convinced. “And how do you know this? How was this knowledge triggered in this reincarnation?” Mestjet asked.
Here, I felt the tightrope beneath my feet. There were layers of unasked questions bundled into this simple one. I could reveal Thoth’s presence on Aradia. I could doom Aradia to a complete invasion and take-over by the Council. Or… what? Rot in suburbia forever? Some gut instinct told me to pause. To not reveal everything I knew, even at my own expense. I needed to find a way to contact my friends on Aradia and warn them first.
“I’m not entirely sure. As you said, I was triggered when I got to Aradia.”
“At the age of forty?”
“So I was a late bloomer. There’s nothing wrong with that,” I said defensively. “Anyway, I’m not telling you anything you can’t figure out from my blood. Am I free to go?”
“The She-Wolf is dangerous,” another Council member said, the voice sounding almost snake-like with elongated and serpentine s-sounds. “Precisely like ancient Rome itself and like a wolf in general. She is given to prey on animals weaker than herself, such as lambs. She faded into the mists of time. Who could claim to know her? How could we trust such a creature?”
My hackles were beyond raised. If I was a real wolf in animal form, I’d be a ball of bristled hair, vibrations growling up and down my spine. “You all bit me! And I’m not to be trusted?”
“That is not to mention the Eye of Ra,” Bruno spoke over me. He could barely contain himself. “Why do you have this mark when you claim you are nothing more than the She-Wolf? It is either a blatant lie that demands a just punishment or something terrifying that needs to be kept caged.”
I blanched. Call it the wild wolf spirit in me, but I really didn’t like the sound of those options.
“You have children?” Mestjet interjected.
I nodded. “Twin boys. Just like the She-Wolf.”
She never broke her gaze and I could see why ancient pharaohs listened to her advice. She was compelling in a way Bruno could never hope to be. “They’re grown?”
“They’ll soon be eighteen,” I answered.
Mestjet, Bruno, and the rest of the members began to converse among themselves like I wasn’t here. Like I was a small bug that had done a funny trick but was of no more interest.
At some silent signal, Manu took me by the arm and began pulling me toward the exit. “Wait!” I shouted. “Don’t I get a counter-defense? Or a chance to bring in witnesses or something?” Manu’s hand tightened. “Does this mean I’m free to go?”
“No. It means your audience with the Council is over for now.”
“But I don’t even know what happened. I have a ton of questions.”
“None of which you have the right to ask.”
“Seriously?”
In response, Manu slammed the door shut behind us. “Keep your mouth shut before you embarrass us both.”
Chapter Seven
As if I was going to keep my mouth shut after that. Halfway down the hall, I tapped Manu on the shoulder. “I’m going to need to pee before we go back to hell.”
Manu gave me a long glance. It was the little pleasures in life. Annoying my mystical jailor? Easily a top ten. Especially when I was still annoyed and reeling from my first encounter with the Council. I had the feeling I hadn’t come across as innocent as I’d hoped. More like a rabid creature that should be thrown to demons.
“You seriously can’t hold it?”
I stopped walking and crossed my legs to illustrate my point. “You push two bowling bowls out of your nether regions and then try to hold it for three hours.”
Manu, ever the professional bounty hunter, chose not to say anything. He jerked me to an alcove set between two marble columns. It looked sterile and white. “Restroom facilities are in there.” Then he stared expectantly at me.
I stared back. Finally, I lifted my tied wrists. “A little help here?”
“According to Council protocol, I cannot allow you to wander unbound.”
“I’m not wandering. I’m peeing.”
“The two are not mutually exclusive.”
“Clearly, you have no idea what goes on in a women’s bathroom. You really expect me to maneuver in there with the Gordian Knot tying me together?”
“I do.”
“You do understand what is entailed?”
“Once again, I do, and I will be right here, so don’t try anything.” His stony face barely moved a muscle as he crossed his arms and waited.
“Fine, but if I pee on my leg, I’m holding you personally responsible.”
I pushed through the door to find a stereotypical, two-stall, public bathroom that at least smelled lemony clean. Besides being completely underwhelmed by the lack of wonder, I noticed they didn’t even invest in environmentally-friendly air dryers. Only paper towels.
I stared at myself in the mirror for a moment, taking in my black hair, which curled at my shoulder blades. I looked tired. Defeated, almost. I guess I felt that way since I couldn’t see a way out of this mess.
Two red marks on my neck caught my attention. I lifted my chin and bent closer. Fang marks courtesy of Bruno. The gods might have sucked, but the Council didn’t appear much better. To me, anyway.
The door creaked open, making my heart skip, and a stout woman with grayish skin and a round face entered. She covered her head in a cowl that emphasized the roundness. Even if I had a million guesses, I wouldn’t have come close to identifying the type of supernatural she was. She had the body of a linebacker, if that linebacker was four feet tall.
I gave her a small smile and nodded to the stalls. “Not exactly the Ritz, eh?”
The woman gave me a long look. Supernaturals tended to do that, I’d found. Stare and take your measure. “Do you need assistance?” she finally asked, her voice low and gravelly.
I held up my wrists. “Guilty. Not of any crime. I’m innocent and being held against my will by that man out there.”
“Manu?”
“So, you know him. Not the best conversationalist, huh?”
She didn’t reply. Maybe that’s why they knew each other.
“I’m fairly sure the Council will release me soon,” I continued, “but in the meantime, do you think you could help?”
“Wipe your ass cheeks?”
“Unless you know how to take these things off?” I ventured.
“Yes.”
I brightened. “Oh great!”
But she didn’t take them off. Instead, she went into a stall with deliberate slowness, and I heard grating noises. The only thing missing from this awkward encounter was elevator music and beige wallpaper.
“Is that a maybe or an outright no?” I called. Two minutes later, the creature clunked out of the stall and washed her hands. She caught my face in the mirror—and screeched. It sounded like metal hitting rock.
“Where did you acquire that?” She pointed to the fang marks.
I grimaced and put my hands over them. My wrists were really starting to ache. “Giuseppe Bruno.”
She recoiled. “He did that to you?”
Taking my jaw in her surprisingly cold hands, she examined my neck closer. “No streaks. So he only warned you?”
“I would
n’t say that. He took a vial of my blood to test. He’s trying to determine what I am, although I already told him.”
“And what is that?” she asked, dropping her fingers from my face.
“The She-Wolf of Rome.”
The woman didn’t react. Not even a blink. She watched carefully, as they all did. But she looked like she could win a staring contest against Aurick, if it came down to it. Thinking about him made a wave of sadness hit me, so I locked eyes with the strange woman and focused feelings of mothering sympathy her way. I didn’t know if it would work, but she eventually sighed and unknotted the cords with a quick twist. The blue fizzled out as they dropped into her hands.
I kneaded my wrists where they’d chafed the worst. “I don’t even know how you did that. The Knot is impossible.”
“I am a grotesque,” she said simply.
“No you’re not!”
She barked a laugh. “You would consider me a gargoyle. I plank up on Washington University campus a few miles from here, but true gargoyles have a spout to drain rainwater. I’m merely a statue carved onto the façade. We’re called grotesques. I’m made of stone, which means I’m impervious to spells, including those of the Knot.”
“Oh,” I said, knowing I would always wonder what was secretly alive from this moment on. “I’m never going to get the hang of this supernatural stuff.”
She patted me in a rather kind way, which didn’t soften the blow. Then she gave me a smile, I think. It was difficult to tell, her face being stone and all. Botoxed celebrities had nothing on grotesques.
“Bruno and I have never seen eye to eye. It gives me pleasure to undermine him.” The grotesque offered me the now-defunct Gordian Knot. “I’ll let your mage know you’ll be right out. We’ll let this be our little secret,” she promised and left me to my business.
