Hallowed Circle (Persephone Alcmedi 02)

by Linda Robertson

  “You okay?” Hunter asked.

  I reached under my cot for my sweatshirt, intending to put it back on. “Yeah, you?”

  “Yes.”

  It had been my hope to basically ignore her. Since I had told her off earlier, being buddies wasn’t something I expected to happen. Now though, Hunter’s voice seemed less authoritative. I studied her.

  She wore a goose-egg bruise on her brow where she’d walked into the door, but her expression was calm and blank. Still, her hands were trembling as she smoothed over her hair.

  “You sure?” I asked, letting her see in my face that I didn’t believe her.

  Her expression softened, almost as if it relieved her to know she didn’t have to put up a front for me. She took a deep breath, let it go. “No,” she whispered.

  Amber, her head down and fingers raked deep into her hair, said, “I can’t figure out why Holly would kill Lehana.”

  That was such a “duh” statement, surprise and confusion must’ve shown on my face.

  Maria clarified, “As in why her and not one of you two.” She pointed at Hunter and me.

  “Me or Hunter?”

  “We all know you’re the top two contenders.” Amber’s voice was shaky. “It would make more sense to take out one or both of you than any of the rest of us.” She put her head back down, resuming a pose of misery.

  She had a point, even if it was oddly flattering and disconcerting at the same time.

  I wondered if I should voice my thoughts about how Holly might be eliminating contenders for political reasons.

  “The vinculum Lehana had would trump any contender’s efforts,” Hunter said.

  “What is that?” Maria asked.

  “It’s a small object, like a stone or a ring, that’s bespelled to link to another person. They’re highly dangerous to create but, if successful, anyone could use the item to see into the other’s mind and gain answers. Handy in social settings and tests.”

  “How do you even know about a thing like that?” Amber asked.

  “In my hometown, a local politician got busted with one a few years back.”

  Hunter stared off toward the door; Amber’s line of reasoning regarding Holly’s motive clearly bothered her. “Holly is probably hiding somewhere in the Covenstead,” she whispered.

  Though we were locked in with a guard outside the door, I wanted to search for her. And stop her.

  “Could she have convinced herself she’d win and then realized she wouldn’t and decided to retaliate by … doing this?” Maria stood, tossed her braid back over her shoulder, paced a bit before realizing that walking made her candle shine too unsteadily. She sat again. “She can’t actually think she can win this way.”

  “They wouldn’t give it to her now,” Hunter said.

  People willing to take a life usually aren’t thinking clearly, but I couldn’t judge too harshly. I’d been willing to take a life, albeit the life of a murderer. I considered myself a rational person, with the added perk of being willing to make tough decisions. I decided to tell them what I was thinking. I couldn’t risk silence and let anyone else die. “I talked to Holly only a little, but it seemed very clear in that small amount of conversation that she was highly concerned about WEC politics. Remember, Suzanne said, ‘We must be vigilant for our cause,’ before she was killed?” That elicited nods. “And we’ve now learned that Lehana had a tool that insinuated she was planted by someone of power.” I thought of Holly’s suspicion of Hunter. “Can you fight? Can you protect yourself, Hunter?” I asked.

  “From a knife in the dark? Hardly.”

  Why didn’t I feel as threatened?

  It hadn’t occurred to me to feel that threatened. I knew I could fight. Even Johnny would admit—

  No, couldn’t think of him.

  “Then we just stay together,” I said. “Until this is over.”

  We heard the door bolt slide open. Lydia entered carrying a candle. She moved wearily, making her way over to join us and sit on an empty cot. “I must tell you the truth. Only two police officers now remain in the building. The rest have taken their equipment and left.”

  That seemed highly inappropriate for a place with a murderer on the loose.

  “Two?” Amber asked. Her voice was thin as a thread.

  Lydia nodded. “When Officer Moore called for backup he was told the electrical failure was due to a power station outage. The whole damn county seems to be out.” She shook her head. “All other officers are needed to deal with the emergency. They will get back to the Covenstead eventually, but Officer Moore and Officer Detrick are on their own for the time being.”

  “Are the doors still secure?” I asked.

  “Yes. If Holly had tried to flee up any of the staircases, the Elders and the vampires would have detected her. We believe Holly is still somewhere inside.” She added ominously, “But she’s not getting out.”

  “Good,” I said.

  “Good?” Amber nearly shrieked. “How is that good? We’re in here!”

  “It means she won’t get away with what she’s done. She can’t hide forever. Why don’t we search for her?” I pressed. “Use the vampires and their keen senses—”

  “Bah!” Lydia smacked her hand on her thigh. “They would never deign to be our bloodhounds. They think this is all very funny, watching us scramble on account of one young woman. Nor do we want them feeling we owe them for anything. Besides, we need them for the next test, which will take time—night time—and that’s something we’re running out of fast.” She hesitated, then continued. “Here is the plan. We will go upstairs to the Great Hall and continue the Eximium. The officers remaining are moving furniture to block access to the hallway on either side of the office area. On this level, we are to confine ourselves to that area and use only the stairway near it. The elevator has been shut down.”

  Considering the Elders intended to get through this no matter what, and if the vampires were running out of night, that was as reasonable a solution as we could get. We’d likely be safe anyway as Holly must still be hiding in the lower levels.

  If any of us had questions, we didn’t ask them. We simply filed out of the room, candles in hand, following Lydia.

  The Elders sat on their thrones, and the three vampires stood to the left of the dais. I tried my best to ignore Menessos, but his presence undeniably beckoned to my awareness and shaped my perception of the moment. Even without being visually focused on him, my body knew where he was, knew when he turned or shifted his weight. My aura prickled with every blink of his eyes, discerning even the finite movement of air his lashes created.

  Nana had to find something in the Codex to minimize this. Or I had to develop a shield or something. I wasn’t willing to believe that I had to deal with this supercharged awareness permanently. There had to be a way around it.

  To the right of the dais sat several dozen bread box-sized chests. They were all different, from wood to metal to cardboard, some decorated or carved, some plain. I hoped there were no scorpions inside.

  “Since Holly is missing and Lehana is dead, there are only four of you to compete,” the Eldrenne said. “Despite this, in order that we may maintain the testing schedule, only one of you will be eliminated this round, and three will proceed to the next round.” She gestured to her right. “Desdemona.”

  Pointing a gnarled finger down our short row, Desdemona spoke in that slow, squeaky voice that made me think of the Wicked Witch of the West. So long as she didn’t call us “my pretties,” I’d be okay.

  “A room, a scene, a situation—

  Further details closely rationed,

  Motives mixed among the undead,

  You’ll be misguided and misled.

  Do not falter, fail, or mis-think

  Or, no doubt, your blood they’ll drink.

  You’ll not see us, though we’ll be there,

  To judge persuasion, poise, conviction—and compare.”

  The last she said very slowly, straightening
. “The lottery, embark …” She gestured to the cauldron. “You,” she pointed at Maria, “with the eyes, dark.”

  Approaching the cauldron, Maria peered inside and gave a sigh of relief. Readily she reached in and came up with a skeleton key. Hunter, then Amber, then me. There were a handful of brassy slender keys left in the cauldron.

  “Find the number upon the key.

  Match to the chests, there will be three.

  Of them, just one may you select,

  As one, you open and collect.”

  The four of us inspected the keys; mine had a number one. I located three chests bearing the number one on them. First, a wooden chest: old and worn wood with many nicks and scrapes, leathery straps rounding it with buckles to reinforce the stability, tarnished hinges and lock. It had character, but it wasn’t that big. Perhaps a foot long, eight inches high, eight wide. Round topped. Not heavy. Reminded me of a pirate chest. I could detect nothing moving inside, which was good. I didn’t want to find a critter inside.

  The second box with a number one was a steel box, gray, with a silvery flip-switch that held the top shut, and a lock beside it. It was very sleek and modern, but very plain. It was little more than a lidded cake pan with a hinged top and handle. Very practical.

  The last box was white, with ornately carved designs and bejeweled corners. It was like a small house, the top peaked like a roof. The handles on either side were very feminine and curvy.

  “Line up after making your selection,” Desdemona called.

  While I didn’t expect we were going to keep these boxes, if that happened to be the case, I liked the little pirate chest the best. I picked it up and carried it to my place in line.

  Amber and Maria had already selected their boxes; we waited only a moment more for Hunter. She’d chosen a very femininely decorated box. I wasn’t surprised.

  “Open them,” Desdemona said, “and begin your inspection.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Trying not to think about the story of Pandora, I sat my box on the floor and slid the key inside. The others were trying to open theirs while standing, but Maria saw me and mumbled, “Good idea,” and knelt down to do as I was doing. To me, it was a precaution against anything jumping out at me. Hunter and Amber followed suit and placed their selections on the pine floor before turning their keys.

  We glanced at each other to affirm we were ready to lift the lids “as one.”

  The candlelight would not illumine much, so I cautiously turned the box away, hinges toward me. With it backward, I slowly opened the lid to reveal—

  “A scroll,” Maria said.

  “They’re all scrolls,” Hunter affirmed.

  Desdemona cleared her throat daintily, then said:

  “On the parchment, rolled and sealed

  Find a truth that cannot be revealed—

  Though the vampires will use wiles and wit

  In hopes you will give in and surrender it.

  Also there is sound advice

  Adhere, and it may suffice

  To help you obfuscate, twist, confound

  And see you through this wicked round.

  Test order is dictated by the brass token.

  Bring your scrolls, with seals unbroken.”

  Lydia asked, “Numbers?”

  “One,” I said, holding up my key. Hunter would follow me, then Maria, then Amber.

  Lydia handed each contestant a length of white yarn. “For your key,” she said. “Vampires and Persephone, if you would follow me. The rest of you, I will return momentarily to lead you below.”

  Scroll tucked under my arm, I looped the string through the key and tied it around my neck as I walked behind Lydia. She took up a candelabrum with three tapers as she started down the stairs, and lit the way. We went into the conference room of the office. “Persephone, you remain in the hall a moment.” She led the vampires into the conference room, lit enough candles around the room so that it was almost bright, then exited and shut the door behind her.

  “Your scroll,” she asked, hand out.

  I gave it to her. She inspected the seal, though I hadn’t had time to read it since opening the chest. I grinned at her.

  “What?” she asked.

  “That’s an awfully by-the-book inspection for someone who suckered me into this whole thing.”

  “Gobbledygook.” She handed the scroll back. “When I leave, break the seal, open it, and read.” She spoke as she lit a pair of tea lights in decorative lanterns hanging in the hall. “You have a few minutes to gather your thoughts and form a plan, but get in there quick as you dare. Keep the scroll with you; don’t let them see it. There’s a hint written at the bottom. Unroll the scroll and hold your hand over the end of the page. Heat activates the ink.” She patted my arm. “This night has been more dangerous and deadly than I ever imagined.” There was an apology in her eyes, but it remained unspoken. “Blessed be,” she said.

  “Thank you, Lydia.” I took her hand and squeezed.

  Then she left.

  Tapers illuminate much better than tea lights. The short hall dimmed into near darkness without Lydia’s candelabrum. After a fleeting thought of whether Holly could possibly be lurking nearby—a thought I scolded myself for having—I cracked the seal and unrolled the scroll and held it near the lanterns.

  It read:

  Scene:

  A coven member, high-ranking, has been hit with various misfortunes lately: her husband died, she lost her job, she has a disease that requires expensive drugs that she cannot pay for without a job and insurance. She contracted with vampires to make blood donations regularly in exchange for cash. Even then, she has been forced to skip doses of her medication to make it last longer. The vampires have ceased accepting her blood. The medicine is “tainting” it. As the vampires have advanced her money, she now owes them and cannot pay. She has a five-year-old daughter.

  Secret:

  The coven member has been told her disease is worsening, and she will die in a few months.

  Unrolling it fully, I held it against the wall and pressed my hand over the lower section. The words faded into view.

  Hint:

  MAY

  CATCH

  OYSTER

  ECLAT

  What kind of cryptic, hellish hint was this?

  I reheated and reread that last part three times. I read it backward, I tried rearranging the letters of each word to make other words. “May” could mean “possibilities” or the month of May. “Catch” could imply its literal meaning, catching a ball or a cold, or it could mean mentally understanding. “Oyster” made no sense to me, but “eclat” meant reputation, acclaim, so maybe they went together, insinuating the oyster’s reputation for libido enhancement. All in all, these clues made my head hurt.

  Putting my game face on, I went into the conference room remembering how collected Hunter had been when confronting Lehana about her magic and the vinculum, and hoping I could convincingly exude that level of confidence.

  I scanned the room. Sever seemed at ease in a chair with his feet propped on the table between candles. Heldridge paced, shrouded in shadows, at the far end of the table, while Menessos held a small candle close to a framed painting on the wall. He appeared to be studying it. Even without his awareness centered on me, his proximity created a reaction that warmed my body in a way that could have been comforting if not for my aversion to being manipulated.

  “Gentlemen—”

  I politely called them each by name, intentionally mispronouncing “Menessos.” Didn’t want these others, or the Elders watching, to think I knew him at all. “What can I do for you?” I asked, keeping my eyes on their chins.

  Heldridge came from the shadows toward me. “One of your witches owes me.”

  The brighter light made the angles of his face harsher. “Who?”

  He smirked. “We’ll call her Ann.”

  “What is it that Ann owes you?”

  “Blood, money, or some combination of the two.”


  He was going to play his role as “intimidating,” so I sat opposite Sever and relaxed into the seat. My role was going to be “unaffected.” Hard to do with Menessos in the room, but I was going to do my best and get through this without delay. “And you have discussed this with her?”

  “Of course.” Heldridge looked down his nose at me. “I wouldn’t be here if I were satisfied.”

  Looking down at me did not reinforce his attempt to intimidate. As our roles went, this was the high priestess’s territory, and therefore my place he was invading. I had to be comfortable. Cocky, even. And I could do cocky. “And you came to me for your satisfaction. I’m flattered.”

  “I want my money!”

  Most people who expose their anger expect a similar emotional response. Instead, I smiled sweetly. “I’m not a banker. Did you misread the sign on the door?”

  Heldridge growled and ran a hand over his head. It messed up the trio of tendrils on his brow.

  “Miss,” Sever put his feet down and leaned across the table. “My friend here has a contract with … Ann. She’s not upholding her end of the deal.” Sever seemed like a good ol’ boy. Not pompous or elegant, but he didn’t lack sophistication. “It’s simple, really.”

  “If it were simple, Sever, you wouldn’t be in my office. What is it you expect me to do about this illicit little arrangement between private citizens?”

  The two of them exchanged glances; Menessos continued examining the art.

  “Ahhh,” I said. “There’s a business involved.”

  Heldridge slid a hand into his pocket. “My club. The Blood Culture.”

  “Apt name.”

  “Of course. It’s easily reached from both the Cleveland Clinic and University Hospitals.”

  I held up a hand. “Let me guess—a lot of nurses are donors?”

  “On their way home. Very convenient.”

  I said, “You don’t want police involved, but you want my help in getting you what you want.” I paused. “Perhaps you should explain this more fully. What kind of arrangement did you contract with Ann?”

  Heldridge barked, “Details aren’t necessary.” He turned away from me, back to the darkness.