One brow arched. “Funny timing, that.”
“Yeah. The news came to him with a note for me. Said, ‘You have nothing to fear.’ That’s what I told Menessos: if he helped me with Theo, he’d have nothing to fear because I’d give him Vivian, the book, and the stake.”
At the mention of the stake, Johnny shifted back to face the field.
“He’s telling me the rewards for turning over the stake and forgetting about him will be better than trying anything stupid.”
“It’s an intimidation tactic.”
“I agree. He could pull the plug on my whole career, and I can’t afford that with Nana and Beverley to support now. I bet Goliath made sure to point that out to him and…” I left the argument there. “I just know that we have to give him the stake.”
“Maybe the stain is influencing you to that end.”
I clamped my jaw shut. Could it be? Maybe, but I’d intended to keep my word from the start. “Can’t you just trust me on this?”
“I trust you. I don’t trust him.”
I let my head tip forward and stared at my feet. “I admit I don’t know much about vampires. Can you tell me something that will convince me? I mean, why are you so adamantly against trusting him?” I paused. “Is it because he kissed me?”
“I think the better question would be: Does that kiss have anything to do with why you want to…comply?”
What was I supposed to say? I’d brought it up. “He made a blood oath on the steps, he hurt no one, and—”
“Hurt no one?” Johnny spun and gripped my arms. “Shit, Red! He marked you! He claimed you! Like a dog pissing on a fire hydrant to mark his territory that goddamned vamp marked you!”
He released me and turned away.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I was very wrong. Menessos did hurt someone: he hurt you.” I half expected Johnny to deny it, but he didn’t. “That was all it was probably meant to do, too. Menessos doesn’t want me—why would he? I’m nothing but—”
“The Lustrata.” He turned back. “Controlling you would be a very beneficial arrangement.”
That sounded horrible. But I wasn’t convinced I was what he and Nana seemed to want me to be. “Does he know that you guys think that’s what I am?”
“Say it! Say the word. Stop tiptoeing around it.”
“Do you think he knows that you guys think I’m…the Lustrata?”
Johnny grabbed my arms again and stepped closer even as he pulled me to him. “Damn it, Persephone! You are! You are!” His hands were trembling despite his tight grip. It hurt. If he could have fed me the passion of his words and made me believe it, he would have.
Johnny searched for words and apparently found none. He released me. My arms stung. “Does Menessos know?”
“I don’t know.” He turned away and ran a hand through his hair. “If he doesn’t, then it’s something you need to hide from him. But with the mark, I don’t know how or even if you’ll be able to do that.”
“Vivian knew. I’m sure she’s told him. And, Johnny—Nana says the stain is part of being the Lustrata. That it is necessary. If she’s right…”
We stood there, warmed by the sunlight and cooled by the breeze, for a long time, silent, side by side. I didn’t want to go back into the house. I wanted to run into the field and just keep running.
Beverley bounded up between us. “Demeter sent me out,” she said. “She wants to talk to you, Johnny. Something about her Tarot cards.”
He looked askance at me.
I said, “I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to be more than they appear, am I?”
Johnny walked toward the house. “C’mon.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The living room seemed dark after our time in the sunshine, and my eyes adjusted slowly. I’d held back in the kitchen, but Johnny motioned me to follow, and I knew he wanted me with him for this.
Nana sat to one side of the couch and indicated the other end to Johnny. “Good, Persephone. I’m glad you came too. You should see this.”
I sat on the floor opposite them. The cards were upside down to me, but I knew them well enough that it made no difference. Nana’s deck was pretty, but worn.
“In light of everything that’s happened, I thought doing a reading might give me some insight. I didn’t get answers, but it seems very clear this reading is about you, Johnny, so I thought you should see it.” She paused. “Have you ever had your cards read before?”
“Nope.”
Nana gestured over the cards spread across a Tarot cloth on my coffee table. “This is a Celtic Cross spread. The first position represents you. As you can see, the card is the King of Cups.” She lifted the card and handed it to Johnny. “My deck is a Mythic deck, with the populace of Greek mythology adorning the cards. The king here is Orpheus, who was the son of the muse Calliope and was known as the greatest musician ever. I understand you have a band and have written many songs, so I think this card suits you well.” She smiled genuinely. “Since the cards in the suit of cups are concerned with emotions, the King of Cups is described as a man who values relationships and human experience above all else. Also, he is a man who influences others with his words, so, again, I believe this is a good match for you.
“The next card, the card that’s lying across your king”—she replaced the card—“is the card that identifies the problem. And the problem here is the King of Wands, represented by Theseus. Your current problem is with another man of heated enthusiasm, a man of some strength and nobility of character. He is an impatient man, though, and selfish too. Do you know whom this card represents?”
Johnny studied it. “I think so.”
Sounded like a vampire-wizard to me.
“Now the third card…” She suddenly sat straighter. “I’m not boring you with the overexplaining, am I?”
“No. Please, go on.”
“The third card crowns you and reveals the surface of the issue. You’ll see that it is the Judgment card, and the figure on it is Hermes, messenger of the gods. See these pillars here? One black and one white? Remember them. I think you’re looking at your past and seeing the patterns for the first time and realizing there is a certain intelligence in it.”
“I don’t know most of my past.”
“But what you do know,” I said, “is that there is a pattern to it, a pattern guiding you toward your destiny.”
Johnny smirked. “Yeah. I guess.”
Nana smirked back. “After all that’s happened in the last twelve hours, you ‘guess’?”
“All right. All right. I see it.”
“The fourth card is the base of the problem, the motivation that drives you, as such.” She lifted the card and held it up for both Johnny and me to see. “It is the High Priestess.”
“Intuition,” I said.
She pointed. “Here are those black-and-white pillars again, see? The secret pattern of your purpose, your particular destiny, is something you already know, but you might be looking for some other future when the one you’re meant for is already here.”
“I think I know what I’m meant to do already. And I’m not looking for a substitute.” Johnny took the card from her, examining it. “Who is she?”
Nana offered me a secretive smile while he examined the card, then faced him to answer. “She is the Queen of the Underworld. She is Persephone.”
My chin dropped to my chest. Peripherally, I could tell that Johnny stilled, fingered the card, then replaced it on the table. His voice was deeper than usual when he said, “Go on.”
“Fifth is the position of past influences. The card Strength shows Heracles struggling with a lion that represents the beastly side of his own character. I think we all know what this refers to. Sixth is the Hanged Man, Prometheus. This is the position of future influences and suggests that in the future you will have to sacrifice something to gain something else of greater value.”
“Like what?” Johnny asked.
“I honestly don’t kno
w.”
“Any clues? Hints?”
“Only that it will not likely be easy. It could be something physical you must relinquish—or maybe something intangible, like a certain belief or attitude. Seventh here is the Chariot.” She held it up. “Notice Ares is driving a chariot with a black horse and a white horse—rather like the black-and-white pillars, don’t you think? And the two horses are trying to go in opposite directions.”
“I see that.”
Nana smiled wryly. “He’s not going to get where he needs to be if his motivations aren’t working in unison, is he?”
“No.” He frowned at the card. “What does this one’s position indicate?”
“The position refers to how you see yourself. This card tells me things have been neither wholly good nor wholly bad, that you have learned to accept the consequences of being a wærewolf, but perhaps you have not embraced the fact of being one and you still harbor anger about it as if something was taken from you, when perhaps you need to see it as ‘something was given to you.’” She paused. “You’re going somewhere, but you can’t get there if you don’t get your motivations to work together. Even if you want to, even if you need to, you cannot be in two places at once.” She tapped the corner of the next card. “The eighth position—which refers to how others see you—you’ll notice even the title of the card leaves no room for misunderstanding.”
“The Hermit.”
“Yes.”
“The scythe makes him look like the Grim Reaper, though.”
“Cronos was the youngest Titan and father of Zeus. The lamp he holds represents the patience and understanding he acquired in his loneliness. It is, perhaps, a great thing to have the understanding, but is that knowledge worth the hardship of being alone?”
Johnny looked at her steadily. “Can you be less cryptic?”
“I think this is tied to the last card, so be patient. The ninth card represents your hopes and fears and can be either one or the other, or both in one. The card here is the Devil, represented by Pan, who is an icon of the bonds all people feel with the instinctive animals that they are. Pan is part man and part beast. Pan is an untamed god of nature”—she regarded Johnny earnestly—“but he is also a musician.”
Johnny smirked again. It was almost adorable.
“So is this my hope or my fear?” Johnny asked.
“Both, I believe. You hope to accept fully what you have become and what you will become, yet you fear what doing that will mean.”
“You’re losing me again.”
“Just remember the things I tell you. It’ll all make sense eventually.”
Johnny turned to me as if asking for proof.
“It will,” I said. “It always does. The cards are like that.”
“What about the last one?”
“The future outcome. The Magician. Hermes again. Here, he is the ruler of magic and master of the four elements. He has before him a caduceus with two snakes, one black and one white, representing every opposite you can imagine. Darkness and light, male and female, and so forth. And I think”—she tapped the Hermit—“it is no accident that this card, this lonely patience, brings the reward of being able to see and understand both light and dark, both good and evil. Hermes is the inner guide, and he may guide you to perilous and wearisome places, but only to point out the potential you have and make you choose whether to develop it or leave it uncultivated.” She leaned forward. “I’ve always found Hermes to be an exciting card. I do hope you pursue what he shows you.”
“You’re not suggesting magic?”
“No. No. I would never. Much too dangerous.”
“Then what? How will he show me what to pursue?”
“A dream. A book you stumble on. Anything spontaneous and intuitive at the same time.” She tapped the High Priestess card. “Intuitive.”
“It’s all connected, huh?”
“Oh, yes. You already know that. And what’s more, you have two kings and eight Major Arcana cards. It’s splendid. Hermes is here twice, once in the underworld where he guided Orpheus”—she pointed to the King of Cups—“and where Persephone”—she touched the High Priestess card—“is Queen. Hermes carried the infant Pan”—she tapped the Devil card—“to Olympus when his mother fled in fright after seeing what she’d given birth to. There is definitely a linking of the underworld through these cards. Heracles, seen here in the Strength card wearing the color of Ares—the god on the Chariot card—Heracles rescued Prometheus”—she tapped the Hanged Man—“a Titan and brother of Cronos.” She tapped the Hermit card. “In fact, the only one who does not have deeper connections on this reading is Theseus, the King of Wands, and, him being the problem here, I’m not at all surprised by that.” She studied the cards again, then looked up. “Eight Major Arcana is wildly powerful.”
“Why?”
“The Major Arcana are the cards of the gods, the influence of deities. You’re definitely unique, Johnny. And they know it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Johnny and Erik were in the process of moving the furniture back into my room when Celia cornered me. “Look, Seph…the past few days have been all over the emotional map and”—she paused—“we’ve been friends a long time. I thought I knew you—I had you compartmentalized nicely in my mind, labeled safe, dependable, and sweet.”
“What are you saying?” I felt my shoulders tighten.
“I had moments these last few days when I wondered about you. I wondered when you’d become this other person and why I hadn’t seen it. I mean, we talked about Johnny, and next thing I know you’re jabbing needles into Vivian’s neck and then…” She sucked in a breath and put her hands on my shoulders. “Then you were facing down vampires, saving a life the only way you knew how.”
My tension faded.
“You’re still safe, dependable, and sweet. I’m just going to have to add brave, tough, and relentless to the list.” She smiled.
I hugged her.
“We’re leaving the air mattress upstairs for Johnny.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m glad he’s sticking around for a few days just to see that all is well.”
“Yeah. I am too.” Celia and Erik were going to take Theo home and help with the cleanup there and at her office. I hadn’t told them about the call from my editor. It would’ve just kept their suspicions up. I wanted this thing over. “You know, I wouldn’t mind at all tagging along and helping with the cleanup at Theo’s and at Revelations.”
Putting a hand on my shoulder, Celia said softly, “Oh, Seph. Don’t bother. We’ll have it done in no time.”
Sure, it was a polite way of reminding me that I was a comparative weakling. Plus I knew they were going to talk about me. I wasn’t worried about it because of insecurity; it was just that I’d never been like them because I wasn’t a wære. I was now even less like them because I was stained. It made me feel like a bizarre outcast, while they seemed like the normal ones all of a sudden. That was weird.
Theo came and hugged me as they were going out. “I’m so sorry for all the pain and loss I’ve caused you, Theo,” I said. I broke out of the embrace and pulled a thick envelope from my pocket. “Take this.”
“What?” She opened it. “Persephone—”
“It’s for a new vehicle and repair or replacement of whatever was damaged. If you need more, let me know.” She pushed the envelope back at me, shaking her head, and started to say something. I cut her off. “Vivian gave me money, and this is out of that. She blackmailed it out of Menessos, so it’s kind of like him paying for it. Since his guy did it—seems fair.”
“Persephone, you keep me safe every full moon. I know your name and where your house is, but I never felt like I really knew you. Still, I don’t feel like I know you. I was surprised as hell to find out you’re an Arthurian fan.” She smiled. “I wouldn’t have guessed that, y’know?” She shifted the envelope and took my hand. “But I knew from the start that I felt safe kenneling at your place. Instinctive
ly, I trusted you with my safety. That’s not going to change. A dozen times you could have ducked your head and run, you could have given up because things looked hard or hopeless. But you dared to go onward.” Her shoulders squared. “Even with your carrying a vampire’s stain, I’d put my life in your hands again, knowingly, and feel secure about it. The kind of character you have isn’t learned, isn’t…isn’t even a choice. It’s inborn, and inescapable.”
I squeezed her hand, my eyes were stinging with tears.
“Okay, speech over,” she said brightly, and hugged me again. “See you soon.”
Theo walked out of my house. Her ankles and one leg had been broken just days ago. My heart felt so big knowing I had helped, truly helped. But my conscience wouldn’t let my ego swell much. It whispered, “Saviors don’t set up the disaster they’re praised for rising above.”
* * *
A little over an hour later, as I was finishing cleaning up the bedroom, the phone rang. Picking up the cordless from my room, I answered. “Hello.”
“Seph, it’s Celia.”
“Make it okay?”
“Yeah. That rat drummer of theirs, Feral, was already here cleaning up. Said he didn’t want us to be overwhelmed.”
I carried the phone with me as I carried my cleaning supplies downstairs. “He’s a good guy.”
“He is. I just wanted to let you know that we made it and that things are gonna be fine. The door will be fixed quick, and she’ll have a place to sleep and working locks back on her doors. I figured you’d want to hear that.”
“I did. Thanks, Celia.”
“Sure. Bye.”
I clicked the phone off and laid it on the counter. Beverley had started the dishes. “You didn’t have to do that,” I said.
She shrugged. “I needed something to do. I’m not in school.”
“Well, I appreciate your help. Oh, crap!” It was Monday. “I have to call and get you excused from school!” I was going to have to contact the authorities and somehow get the matter of custody settled. I couldn’t even get her enrolled in school here until I had that straightened out.
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