Arcane Circle c-4

by Linda Robertson

  Above us all, the scream echoed, and finally, like its maker, died.

  “Destroy those,” Menessos commanded, gesturing at the tray Risqué held.

  She hurried in her ruffled short-shorts to obey.

  I just witnessed a murder. My heart thudded in my chest, my ears buzzed, and I felt cold to my core. My spine was wrapped in a thick weaving of anxiety, fear, and repulsion. But underneath my sternum was heat. Not lust heat. This was like the sharpest edge of a blade heated in forge-fire. It sliced through me and its blazing edge severed me from the naïveté that once would have denied that such things happened even in a vampire’s haven. But I could not deny it now. In the wake of that severing was a residue of cinnamon.

  “This is my house,” Menessos bellowed to the stunned audience. “My rewards for loyalty are grand, but I tolerate no threats. I permit no defiance! I allow no harm to be doled out among you, one to the other. I will give you death if you defy me! My punishment is swift. Do you hear me, members of this haven?”

  “Aye,” answered those who were already claimed as his.

  “Do you hear me, initiates?”

  “Aye.”

  “Then come forth and receive your master’s embrace, accept my mark, and become mine.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Once upon a time, I’d killed a man. It was an accident. He was a low-life druggie who was stalking Beverley’s mom and when I’d intercepted him he threatened me with a knife. In the struggle, we fell. He landed on the blade.

  Those seconds as he died were seared into my memory.

  It was my dark secret, a shame I would always carry.

  In seeing Eva’s body and the pool of her blood, in peering out at the crowd, in having heard the words Menessos just uttered, and in knowing that Eva had meant to kill me, I knew for certain this was a murder no one would ever know about except those who’d witnessed it. And all those in attendance, save Johnny and me, belonged to the vampire who’d perpetrated the killing.

  It was haven justice. An eye for an eye. Heldridge may have ruled his haven by keeping his people fearful of him and each other, but those were his rules. No master could allow insubordination.

  The initiates would have to walk past Eva’s body and blood to reach Menessos. The corpse was left to remind them what was expected of them, and the consequences of disobedience.

  The Beholders were first. He bit them as a show of laying claim to them. Then, as when he had marked me, he opened his wrist. What was different, however, was he comingled his blood with their own and asked each one, “Do you accept me as your lord, your defender, to whom you will provide all your loyalty?”

  When they affirmed they would, he drew an ankh on their bared chests. As the mark claimed them, their knees gave out. They writhed. Heldridge’s claim was being ripped from their souls and replaced by that of Menessos.

  When he’d marked me, it felt like his bloody mark called up pieces of my soul to be bound by his blood. Those pieces then took the essence of him and sank inside me to hide in intangible places.

  To reclaim all the seventy-two male Beholders took over an hour.

  Next were the Offerlings, six women and one man, who received two marks each. They were a gorgeous group and though they lacked the brutishness of the Beholders, they still gave every appearance of being dangerous.

  Or maybe that’s just my reaction to them as Heldridge’s people after nearly being poisoned by one of them.

  The Offerlings were rendered unconscious by the pain of being given a pair of marks to cancel out the previous binding to their master. They were removed by Menessos’s established Beholders, and Menessos called for the initiate vampires to come forward.

  Fifteen vampires walked single file up the ramp and formed a line before the dais. I recognized one of them by the golden brown curls that hung past his shoulders. His name was Sever. He’d been with Heldridge at the Eximium. Apparently, he always gave the impression of being a delighted frat boy who’d just strolled unseen into the ladies’ locker room.

  “I charge you all with the tasks of managing your fellow initiates and monitoring your Offerlings and Beholders; report to me that I may anticipate their needs and meet them in order to maintain the peace and balance of my haven. From this day forward, one of you will speak for all of them.” He glanced down the line of them. “Sever. I appoint this task to you.”

  Sever bowed his head. “As you wish, my master.” He bared his neck and made the vow, “I offer you my allegiance, my loyalty, and my undeath. Henceforth, I am yours. Your vampire. Your soldier. Your servant.”

  Menessos drank of him. “Henceforth, I am your lord, your commander, your master. For your allegiance and loyalty, I will protect you.” He offered Sever his wrist, and Sever drank. Menessos moved to the next in line.

  When all of this was complete, the tables were cleared, and the music blared. Jaded Jason had been hired once more to DJ the party, or perhaps he was a nonhaven servant like the Incomparable Deliveries guy.

  As the dancing commenced, Eva’s corpse remained as Menessos had left it.

  “Come with me,” Menessos said as he rose. Johnny and I followed him off the stage and accompanied him to his private rooms.

  His chambers were as I remembered them, from the round stone altar table that sat opposite the entry door, neatly arranged with candles, a bell, his athame, and various other ritual items; to the stacked stone walls and leather seating in-the-round with two plush, armed seats across from each other and two armless semicircular couches. On the back wall, between two white marble pillars, the wooden door with iron studs was shut.

  “Please make yourselves comfortable.” He gestured with his bloody hand. “Allow me a moment to wash.” He passed through his iron-studded door without waiting to see if we complied.

  Johnny removed his suit coat and loosened his tie before sinking beside me on the couch. “You okay?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I may never eat strawberries again, but I’m fine.”

  His arm snaked across my shoulders and he pulled me close. I laid my head against him until, minutes later, Menessos returned. He’d not only washed up, he’d changed into fresh trousers and a clean shirt.

  “First, allow me to thank the two of you for coming tonight.” He carried two goblets, a bottle of wine, and a corkscrew. The last two he passed to Johnny, who set about opening the bottle. “Because I am well aware of how Heldridge ran his haven, I knew Eva would make an attempt on your life—”

  “You knew?” I demanded.

  “I wanted to get it out of the way, as this would make the best example for the others.” Still holding the goblets, Menessos lowered himself onto one of the plush, armed seats. “When you were not sure if you could join me, I worried that she might find some way to make her strike beyond my haven’s walls.”

  “You knew,” I repeated.

  “Of course I knew. Why else would I object to chocolate?”

  “You said—”

  “I lied.” He reached for my hand and I gave it to him. He squeezed. “She tried to endear herself to me over these last few nights. She took the chance that I would allow it and not punish her.” He shrugged. “She lost.”

  I felt better knowing my safety was never truly at risk, and worse knowing the murder had therefore been premeditated. The whole time he was with her, he knew it would end this way.

  I detected a fine trembling in his fingers, squeezed reassuringly.

  In that instant, I felt his thoughts swirling, so fast and not all of them in English. In signum amoris. He’d played a part in it, and now I knew he owned a piece of that binding. What I did catch was the notion that he wanted me there when he made claim to Heldridge’s people because he had never marked anyone as a fully undead vampire. He wasn’t certain if he’d be deeply drained by so much activity. He’d wanted me nearby to empower him if necessary.

  He pulled his hand from my grasp.

  Johnny had the bottle open and Menessos provided him with
a goblet. Johnny poured and gave the half-full glass of wine to me. I hesitated.

  “Drink it,” Menessos said, offering the other goblet to Johnny. “You’re pale.”

  I drank. It was tart and warmed my tongue.

  Menessos stood and paced before us. “On to the other business. It has come to my attention that we have been misled.”

  “How so?” Johnny asked. He filled his goblet and set the bottle on the floor.

  “Heldridge is very clever. The performer he hired refused to admit any guilt. He claimed to have no idea what he had done. On the surface it all appeared very tidy: a crazed man claims memory loss. We suspected he’d been hypnotized and commanded to attack.”

  “And?” I prompted.

  “I had assumed the blade, a steel throwing dagger, had been ensorcelled in some manner to strike me down. I had the man at Wolfsbane and Absinthe examine it.”

  “Beau,” I clarified.

  “Yes.”

  “But he’s been Bindspoken—”

  “And he had no reaction to it. There was no sorcery or witchcraft placed upon that blade.”

  Beau had felt pain at shaking my hand. Being Bindspoken meant forever avoiding contact with magical things. Him keeping Wolfsbane and Absinthe, a witch supply shop, was more of a statement to WEC than I had realized at first. I now understood why he’d put together the items for the sorsanimus spell so hurriedly, and why he had a mundane human working for him. Someone had to touch the goods he sold.

  Johnny set his goblet by the bottle. “You’re saying you weren’t the target at the ceremony.”

  My thoughts on Beau, I hadn’t caught that.

  Menessos said, “Correct.”

  “Me?” I asked. Heldridge had been after me? “To hurt you?”

  Menessos stopped pacing. It was clear he was weighing his words, and I knew this was going to be bad. I took a quick gulp of the wine.

  “I told you he knew what the fairies wanted him to know. I assumed they had told him that I was alive.”

  My mind was racing. “For him to strike at me would weaken you, then the fairies could take action?”

  “That was my first thought as well. And one in our favor as now that I am undead, he would look a fool.” He again took to pacing.

  I’d never seen him this edgy. I had seen him angry and prepared to kill, but then I’d never actually seen him take a life before.

  I stood and went to him. Gripping his arm, I turned him to face me and searched his eyes. My hands slipped down to take his.

  “The fairies knew something else.”

  “What?” Johnny asked.

  Menessos did not answer.

  “That I’m the master.” My voice was hollow. My stomach churned with ice.

  Menessos gauged my reaction for a long moment. “I kept thinking he was a fool to flee to VEIN. I felt it must be a ploy of some kind. But if he knows that, he has good reason as it may be enough to save his existence. If he reveals to the Lord Executives of VEIN that their northeastern Quarter Lord has been hexed by a witch and is under her sway … I will be the next vampire with a VEIN bounty on his head. And you, my lovely Lustrata, won’t be left out.”

  Johnny came to his feet. “What do we do?”

  “Goliath is unequaled at what he does. When he finds Heldridge, he will kill him.”

  Johnny stood. “What if Heldridge makes it to these Lord Executives?”

  “All manner of unpleasantness shall ensue.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  At eleven-twenty A.M. on Saturday, Zhan was pinning my hair tightly against my head. “Sorry I didn’t ask Menessos about letting you go home.”

  “My request wasn’t the dominant thing on my mind last night either.”

  Zhan slipped the last bobby pin into place and declared me ready for step two of my disguise. I tugged the blond wig on.

  One look in the mirror proved that everyone would recognize the cheap flesh-colored cap that formed the base of the wig. No one would ever be deceived by this disguise. “This is going to be a problem.”

  “Give me one minute,” Zhan said. She left the bathroom, hurried down the stairs. She came back with a black knit hat that had a skull with wings silkscreened on it in white. I recognized it as matching a shirt Johnny had recently bought; he’d left the hat on one of the coat hooks at the back door. Zhan put it on me. “No fake roots.”

  I had on a nice blouse under one of Nana’s sweater cardigans, dress pants, and loafers. When Johnny had seen my attire—before rushing off to a band rehearsal and strategizing session—he’d proclaimed me frumpy and said he’d be worried about me if he didn’t know I was trying not to be recognized by the witch-hating-parent-patrol.

  The knit hat was totally wrong for the look I was trying to achieve. “I’m trying to be the socially acceptable niece today.”

  Zhan thought about it. “Unless you have a flowered chapeau, you’ll have to change your role. Come with me.” I followed her across the hall. She sorted through my closet. “Wear this and your flannel.” She held up a thick pullover hooded sweatshirt with a pocket in front. “Add jeans and your hikers and you’ll be more comfortable. Instead of being the snooty blond niece—which is conspicuous and more likely to get you busted anyway—you can be the farm-girl unicorn trainer. Mountain won’t mind.”

  “What if Errol minds?” All the animals knew Mountain better than me.

  “Mountain will still be there, as backup.”

  Her idea was good enough that I probably wouldn’t have argued, but I didn’t get a chance anyway. Nana shouted up the stairs to announce that the ponies had arrived.

  Beverley burst from her room. “Ponies?”

  The six rented half-size equines were unloaded from their trailer, saddled, and ready to go.

  The owner, Mr. Purdy, could have easily won the casting call for an aging carnie in his Carhartt jacket, dirty jeans, and a ball cap with “Ford” scripted on it. He was all angles and his Adam’s apple jutted. He spat tobacco juice on the ground as I approached him.

  “You Ms. Alcmedi?” he asked.

  “No, I’m Red. Red Newman. Family friend. Ms. Alcmedi isn’t here.”

  “Oh.” He scratched at the three days’ worth of stubble on his cheek. “Who’s payin’ me, then?”

  I took an envelope from the hoodie’s pocket. “They told me to give you this.”

  He opened it and counted it—twice—then folded it and shoved the envelope into his back pocket. “Thank you. I need to walk the route in the yard now, to make sure we’re all good.”

  “Fine. I’ll walk with you?”

  “No need.”

  “Actually, there is.”

  He stopped, spat again, and his wrinkles deepened. “We’re not staying longer than an hour. That’s what I agreed to. That’s my rate.”

  “Nothing like that is changing. As I said, I’m a family friend and, well, the birthday girl wanted a unicorn ride so … a friend of mine and I devised an attachment—”

  “You ain’t putting nothing on my ponies. And I ain’t got no all-white one, neither.”

  “I own a young white stallion. We fitted it for him. I just wanted to let you know that we’d like Beverley to lead the pony parade, and I’ll handle the horse.”

  He squinted at me, wrinkling his sun-dried face even more. “Does your young stallion have a fiery temper?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “What breed is he?”

  “A mix,” I said. I didn’t know enough about horses to answer.

  “I hope he doesn’t have any Lipizzaner in him. I hear they’re mighty feisty. Don’t want no horse getting aggressive toward my ponies.” He pointed at a little black one tied to a bar on the side of the horse trailer. It was the same size Johnny was when in wolf form. But this animal lacked the pointy teeth and the snarl. “My Smokey Bear there, he’s a stud. Might set your stallion off if he’s picky like that.”

  “I don’t see that being a problem, sir.”

&nb
sp; “Better not. Any other interruptions you plan to insert on my regular routine?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then let me walk the yard and make sure there’s no holes that could injure my livestock— or yours.”

  I got out of his way just as the first of the guests arrived.

  We’d invited twenty-six kids and parents, everyone in the class. Six showed up—four girls, two boys. Celia was here as well; Johnny was still at band rehearsal. Mr. Purdy’s sourness aside, the guests seemed to be in a happy, festive mood and we had just enough ponies for every child.

  Beverley, Nana, and Zhan came outside and the kids gathered to pet the ponies. Celia stayed with Nana and Zhan and helped to greet everyone while I hung back at the horse trailer.

  Mr. Purdy noticed. “Why aren’t you with the others?”

  Thinking too long about what to say, I decided to try for embarrassment as I admitted, “Large groups of people make me nervous.”

  When it was time, Mr. Purdy called the kids together. “Now, either you can all pick a pony to ride, or you can draw numbers out of my hat. If there’s gonna be an argument about who rides what pony, we’ll definitely draw numbers. Can you pick for yourselves and be satisfied?”

  He was so awkward and rough that the kids simply nodded. Lily ended up with Smokey Bear. I only knew Lily’s name because Beverley called it a few times. I was glad she had come; she was the girl who’d first befriended Beverley.

  Mr. Purdy had each parent set their child onto a saddle, then hold the reins until he got the ponies lined up like he wanted them. “And I hear the birthday girl has a special ride for the day.” He gave me a nod, and I jogged to the back where Mountain was waiting with Errol.

  The unicorn had deigned to wear a purple halter, and a matching lead rope was attached. It matched the ribbons Beverley had put in his mane and tail perfectly. Mountain had tied some twine around the base of the spiraled horn, covered it with the curly forelock, and then wound the twine under the unicorn’s jowls to give the impression of it being fake.

  Together, we led Errol around front.