Demeter stood before him with all the ferocity of a lioness in her eyes. “My granddaughter has been nearly killed how many times since she got involved with you and that vampire?”
Johnny’s chin dropped shamefully.
“Right now she’s stuck in a meditation downstairs. You”—she poked him in the chest—“were here. I bet she saw Menessos tonight, too. He resides an hour away.” She shuffled a step forward. Johnny eased a step back. “He is accustomed to the night, and more than normal stress.” She gained another few inches on him, and Johnny retreated again. “He can use magic. He could probably have fixed this … but you called me. I had to get my ass out of bed in the middle of the night and come home to fix this.”
Johnny could say nothing. She was right.
Demeter put her hands on her hips. “Hate him if you have to, Johnny. Hate him because he wants her and you feel threatened by that. But trust him, damn it. You three have to trust each other if any of you hope to survive this.”
She brushed past him and headed down the steps.
Johnny followed. “Hey, I didn’t mean to piss you off.”
“You didn’t.” On the second floor, she walked into Red’s bedroom and lifted a tray off the bed. Demeter had obviously gathered some spell supplies from Red’s stock. She must have come up to the attic after listening to him play awhile.
He followed her into the bedroom. “But—”
Demeter turned with the tray in her hands. “I’m not angry with you for calling me or bringing me here. Am I tired? Yes. Cranky? Hell, yes. I want to be here, but you didn’t think about who else was at your disposal. Or did you? Did you decide you didn’t want him to come to the rescue?”
Johnny admitted, “I didn’t even consider him.”
Demeter pushed the tray at him. “You carry this. You’re steadier than I am.”
“Your knees okay? You want me to go first so you can hold my arm?”
“I’m fine,” she grumbled and descended the main stairs, gripping the handrail tight. Near the bottom, where the rail was broken, she paused and moved closer to the wall and let her hand slide along it to steady herself.
When she reached the bottom she stepped around the hole in the floor and looked back up at him. “C’mon.” She waved. “You better help Mountain get this mess cleaned up before the others get here.”
“If they’re coming from Cleveland we have an hour.”
She snorted again. “You can put the pedal to the metal in that race car of yours all you want, young man, but a broomstick will beat you every time.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Goliath directed Vinny and two other guards to remain in the accounting office with Talto, who, despite being alarmingly weakened by Menessos’s feeding, had been securely bound to a heavy steel-framed office chair. He’d even insisted the wheels be removed from the chair.
As they descended to the ground level Goliath ordered three guards to rush to the front and check for signs of Ailo’s leaving. “If none are found, take positions to contain her. Use the utmost care to see that the child is not harmed,” he added. The last three guards were to continue with him and Menessos to the suite of the Erus Veneficus.
He studied Menessos as they ran through the haven. His former master had wiped his face on his sleeve, but smears of Talto’s blood still tainted his features. He’d gifted the child and relinquished their bond in one night. Either of those feats singularly would have been all any other vampire could hope to accomplish in one night; having achieved both was astounding.
And now this.
Having fed from two Beholders as well as having taken a risky amount of blood from Talto had done much to restore Menessos—but that recuperation was merely physical. By tapping into the ley line, one could empower their magical self like using a highly caffeinated energy drink to fuel the physical body. The line provided a rapid burst, not something that was sustainable as “normal.” As with the perks of the beverage, the energy borrowed from the ley line was expended at a faster rate, and in the end, the ley lines tended to take more than they gave, depleting something intangible, exhausting the spirit as well as the body.
Goliath hoped that what Menessos had consumed would prove to be enough to get him through this night. If Ailo was gone, his former master was going to have to work magic again, and utilize that bond created between him and the sisters to find her or bring her back.
Making it worse was the fact that there was little time left before the dawn.
They crossed the house of the theater, seeing several chairs toppled and a table overturned. She’s looking for a weapon, he thought. The metal furniture would require more time than she had to tear it apart.
They arrived in the backstage area where Vinny had earlier sat on duty. The door to the Erus Veneficus’s suite was open. Smoke was pouring out of it. Something was burning inside; golden light flickered within.
Menessos rushed up the steps. Goliath was on his heels.
As they charged across the room, it seemed everything was in flames. The room was destroyed anyway, furniture overturned and broken. Glass and scraps of fabric dotted the floor. The couch was in flames, as were the countertop and stools to the right, the curtains in the back. The stink of all that was burning filled his nostrils, but under it all, he smelled blood.
Beside him, Menessos slowed. A glance revealed Risqué lying behind the couch. Knowing Menessos would handle it, Goliath pressed on to the back, where Beverley had been sleeping.
The flames had not reached the bed. He threw back the covers and found it empty. He dropped to his knees to check beneath it. He scrambled up and threw back the closet door. He spun to the bathroom and nearly ripped the door from its hinges as he opened it. Not finding her, he rushed back to Menessos.
“She’s not here.”
The guards ran through the main door, each with a fire extinguisher in hand. They had the flames out in seconds.
“I’ll tend to Risqué,” Menessos said. “You get Ailo.” He called to one of the guards, “Get a doctor in here!” The guard nodded, clanging and clomping down the metal stairs.
Goliath didn’t leave. Instead, he grabbed a torn throw pillow, ripped off the rest of the top, and applied pressure to Risqué’s side with it.
Menessos cradled her head in his hand and stared into the half-demon’s face. “I should have had her slay them. Not bind them to me.” His gaze strayed to one of the barstools near the kitchen, to the splintered and jagged edge of the wooden leg that had broken off. “I cannot slay Ailo now that she is bound to me.”
“Hindsight,” Goliath said. “But you can use that binding to find Ailo or track her, can’t you?”
Menessos nodded.
“You find Ailo and let me tend Risqué,” Goliath said. “By the time I get her to the infirmary, you’ll have the information, and then we will go collect Beverley … and do what needs to be done.” He was no longer bound to Menessos; he could easily slay Ailo.
Menessos rose to his feet.
• • •
Liyliy had known by the exterior of the dingy little hotel that their driver had secured for them—a drab, blue-gray siding above brickwork—that she was not going to be staying in opulent accommodations for the day. She’d glared at Giovanni before entering. He’d said, “They will not search for us here.”
Now as she stood staring out the window at a world that was yet sleeping, she tried to think on the news she’d been given this night, but the last few hours before dawn seemed to pass so swiftly. The Death that awaited weighed on her like lead.
“Adam will keep us out of the light and make sure no one enters,” Giovanni assured her.
She glanced away from the window to their driver. Adam. She hadn’t known his name before. He was an older man, plain, trying to dress younger than his years in a solid-colored sweatshirt and jeans. He’ll probably gag us to silence our waking screams as well.
“I am going for a walk,” she said. Her silken gown transformed
into gray pants, a warm shirt, and a hooded coat. She worked to make the fabric lose its sheen in favor of a drab, aged dirtiness. Her shoes changed from sandals into full-covering slippers.
“Would you like company?” Giovanni offered.
The gruff sound of his voice grated on her nerves. “No. I will return shortly.” She shut the door behind her. Leaving the parking lot for the sidewalk, she turned left, heading toward a place called Family Dollar. The air was cold, but it felt good inside her lungs. She imagined it freezing all the little emotions in her heart, and when she breathed out, forcefully, she hoped those feelings were expelled with the air.
She could not afford even a small sentimental notion for Meroveus. She would walk until she was certain that he had been purged from her thoughts … or she would burn in the rising sun. For if she could not release this mawkishness, she could never achieve her vengeance.
When the darkened store was well behind her, her phone rang.
She thought it would be Giovanni insisting she return … but it was Ailo.
“Yes, Sister?”
“Liyliy!” Ailo’s voice was strained, hurried and breathless. “I have the girl. I’m outside the haven. I don’t know what to do! I don’t know where to go.”
Her words tumbled out so fast, Liyliy could hardly understand them. When they registered, she stopped in her tracks. “You have the girl and have fled the haven?”
“Yes, yes! Menessos will soon discover my deceit. He’ll use his binding to find me or compel me back. The girl roused, but she struggled and I wrapped her up in the telavivum. Now she won’t wake.”
“You wrapped her in your living web?”
“Yes. I had to keep her from screaming.”
“Did you read her?”
“No. There’s been no time. When I fled she was cocooned in fabric.”
Liyliy’s mind was racing. “You haven’t killed her, have you? She breathes yet?”
Ailo snapped, “Yes, she is breathing!”
With the power this child allegedly possessed, wrapping her in the strange fabric that clothed them was dangerous … no. Magic wrapped in magic. It might be the only thing keeping Ailo safe at the moment. “Have you unwrapped her fully?”
“No. Maybe I should. Maybe then she’d wake—”
“No! Ailo, whatever you do, do not unwrap her. In fact, make sure she is covered up as much as possible. Do not touch her bare flesh. Do not read her. Do you understand me? It is very important that you do not touch her or unwrap her.”
“But, Sister, if she wakes, she could break this binding from me.”
“No, Ailo. Do not risk it.”
“I would not have to worry that Menessos would compel my return.”
Liyliy hesitated. “Ailo.” She used the tone that said she was the dominant one.
“I need your help. Please, please. Say you are coming. Say you will keep Menessos from luring me back.”
“I am coming, Ailo.”
“Promise that together we will make her awaken, so I will be free.”
Liyliy realized Ailo had not mentioned their other sister. “What about Talto?”
“She is yet within the haven. We must save her.”
She sympathized with Talto’s predicament, but now that the child was out of the haven, this was Liyliy’s one chance and she had to make it count. “Where are you?”
“I’ve kept out of sight as much as I could, but carrying the child and having to stay to the shadows is making progress slow. I am walking north-northwest on … East Third Street. Do you know this city? Where can I go and meet you?”
Liyliy did not know the city well, but she had seen it well from the sky. North-northwest … to the north were a series of parks. “Do you see trees before you? A grassy area?”
“Yes. But bare trees give little cover.”
“Go toward the lake, Ailo. There are benches and monuments there. Find somewhere to hide until I arrive.”
“Hurry, Sister.” Ailo hung up.
Liyliy placed the cell phone into her pocket and called upon the cursed owl within her. The quicksilver retreated into a thick cuff around her left ankle. The phone dangled from a silken pocket attached to the anklet. She screamed and fell to her knees as her body reconfigured itself, grew in size and sprouted feathers. When the form was complete—save the scarring and injuries—she took to the sky, heading back into the city she had moments ago fled.
Though her owl eye saw better in the dark, her field of vision was markedly decreased, and not being able to call on her aura in the same way made judging distances—and landings—tricky.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Johnny and Mountain lugged the broken tabletop into the garage, then out the man-door, and leaned it against the back of the garage. It was still very dark and cold outside. The sun wouldn’t rise until about seven twenty. “What witches are coming?” Johnny asked as he and Mountain returned to the kitchen.
“I’m not sure,” Demeter said. She was standing at the sink watching Red, who sat unmoving as she had been for hours. “I called the High Priestess. I told her to bring at least two witches with her. She will choose wisely.”
He grabbed the broom and dustpan and began sweeping up the splinters and wood debris. “What exactly will you do?”
“You ever hear the old witch saying, ‘To Know, To Do, and To Be Silent’?”
“Nope,” he said.
“It’s a good policy.”
Johnny kept sweeping. He glanced up when she didn’t elaborate. “That ‘be silent’ part means you’re not going to tell me.”
“Nope,” she mimicked him.
He pulled the dustpan off the broom and handed it to Mountain, then switched and gave the big man the broom. Johnny knew he could crouch to hold the dustpan more easily than either of the two people with him.
When that chore was done, Johnny dumped the pan into the garbage and Mountain started sweeping the area near the door. Johnny joined him, watching him push the fragments and pieces into a pile. When they were done, there were footsteps on the front porch followed by a brisk knock on the door.
“Demeter,” Johnny called as he carried both the broom and dustpan to the kitchen. “They’re here.”
She passed him in the hall as Mountain answered the door. Johnny dumped the dustpan a second time, then returned to the doorway so he could see what was going on without going too far from Red.
Though Demeter’s back was turned to him, he could immediately feel tension radiating off her.
Mountain had plodded into the living room to be out of the way, but the women weren’t chattering happy greetings. It could have been the early hour or the situation with Red sobering the moment, but that wouldn’t explain the silent hostility at the other end of the hall.
He recognized the pretty witch in front as Hunter Hopewell, the new High Priestess of the Cleveland Covenstead. He knew her because Lycanthropia had played at the Hallowe’en Witches’ Ball, her first coven event with her new title. She’d flirted heavily with him at the gig before she’d realized he was with Persephone.
Beside her was a witch with long, straight white hair. Vilna-Daluca—an Elder witch who was far from being a cookie-cutter copy of Oz’s Glinda the Good Witch of the South. He’d last seen her when she crossed paths with him and Red at the police station in Valley City. The agents from SSTIX had taken them there to question them about events on the shores of Lake Erie. Though Vilna had gotten Red out of there pronto, she hadn’t exactly done so out of friendship. According to what Red had told him, Vilna blamed her for another witch’s death. The dead witch—Xerxadrea—was Vilna’s cousin or something. And she had left him sitting in the police station.
Last was a witch who wore her white hair in a bun atop her head. This one, however, didn’t have a title. She was Lydia, the witch who’d sold this farmhouse to Red a few years back. He remembered her from when the witches put wards up around the property. She and Demeter had some kind of unsavory history.
That explained the rigidity in Demeter’s shoulders.
“Ladies … ” he said, gaining the attention of all of them.
“Hey, I know you,” Hunter said. “One day you’re in a rock band … the next you’re the Domn Lup.” Her smile was friendly—but not more than that.
“Yeah.” He would have preferred she not bring that up, but since she had, and since his status should be respected by these witches, he did not hesitate. “You’re all here to help Red, right?” He looked from Demeter to Lydia and back.
“Of course.” Hunter nodded. No one else spoke.
He crossed his arms and let each of these women see his defensive concern. “Then, let’s get some things straight. According to Red, her last encounter with Vilna didn’t exactly reek of friendship.” He looked Vilna-Daluca squarely in the eye. “I want her safe, so I’m not sure I want you involved.”
Vilna started forward. “Hear me, Wolf King—”
Either the belligerence in her tone or Johnny’s statement must’ve triggered something in Demeter. She sidestepped into Vilna’s path, blocking her.
“The fact is that the Eldrenne is dead because of her! I have my opinions about Persephone and I’m entitled to them, but the High Priestess asked me to come. I am honor bound to do what I can to assist, an’ it harm none, and that’s exactly what I’ll do.”
The hall was silent for a moment, as Demeter shot a glance at Johnny that he took to mean she hadn’t known about those particular details he’d revealed. She faced Vilna and said, “Make oath to that.”
Vilna-Daluca tapped her lip, thinking for a moment. She stepped around Demeter and strode to the kitchen, walking along the counter with her palm hovering above it. She stopped before a drawer, opened it, and removed a knife. After deftly slicing both of her index fingertips and rinsing the blade in the sink, she used the bleeding wounds to draw on her palms with the blood. She made an F shape, with the bars normally horizontal turned downward instead. She held them aloft for all to see.
“Ansuz grant power to my words! Vár, daughter of Asgard, handmaiden of Frigga, goddess of oaths, hear my vow this night! Erinyes, those who punish whosoever swears a false oath, hear my vow this night! Before these mighty witnesses, I say this: I have come to assist and aid Persephone Alcmedi in this predicament. All my actions, all my words, all my thoughts will be focused on that deed until I leave this house. May the Erinyes exact their wrath upon me if I break this oath.” Vilna lowered her arms. “Satisfied?”
Shattered Circle (Persephone Alcmedi) Page 25
