Vicious Circle c-1

by Linda Robertson

  “No, you two are square,” Johnny said.

  We both looked at him.

  “Seph took a vamp’s mark, Theo. She took it to save your life.”

  Chapter 25

  My unused dining room furniture was getting used. Johnny cooked up everything breakfast-y in the house. Omelets with peppers and onions, blueberry pancakes, biscuits. I hadn’t known I had bacon and sausage. They must’ve gotten them at the store before. Since I had fasted and the wæres had transformed, it was like a feeding frenzy. Theo ate more than Erik did, I noticed, but she deserved it. Beverley and Johnny shared a box of Lucky Charms and giggled and spoke with Irish accents.

  Everyone was here except Nana and Dr. Lincoln. The doc had apparently gone home. I didn’t blame him, but I did wonder how much his circle participation would cost me and how he’d word it on his bill. Nana was in the shower; I assumed she was avoiding me. I wanted to ask her about being stained, find out if she knew anything about it, if she’d seen anything in the Codex to erase it. It made me think she didn’t want to be the one to have to tell me I was seriously screwed.

  Beverley said, “So, Johnny, last night you herded the other wolves around. Are you, like, the pack leader?”

  “Nah. No leaders here.”

  “But you did seem to retain an uncanny amount of human sensibility,” I added.

  “Yeah.” He shrugged. “Weird, huh?” He focused hard on his food.

  It was the kind of answer that agreed without offering anything, the kind that said he didn’t want to discuss it. I wouldn’t have pushed him, because I believed that he’d share information if it was relevant. However, Erik, leaning in the doorway to the kitchen and holding a mug of coffee and an omelet-and-buttered-biscuit sandwich, didn’t seem to share my hesitation. He said, “Do you always retain your human sensibilities?”

  “Yep.” Johnny kept eating his cereal and staring at the back of the cereal box, as if by sheer will he could force the subject to something else. But it wasn’t working. The tension level rose, though that might have had something to do with Celia and Theo adding their energy to it. Everyone had stopped eating, and the others openly stared at him.

  No wonder Johnny had known I’d been stained. I hadn’t considered the oddness of that before. Did he also know Menessos had kissed me? Instantly, I pictured Menessos’s face and could feel his—

  Damn it!

  Could Menessos use the mark to create approval and desire for him in my thoughts? Like bespelling me with his eyes, only from a distance? He was a vampire. I shouldn’t have any contemplations about him that weren’t derogatory…so why was I thinking of him admiringly? Why was I thinking about him doing things that I hadn’t thought about doing in a long time—at least, until a few days ago when I started imagining doing those things with Johnny?

  I scolded myself. My thoughts were about as nonsensical as those of a smitten teenage girl.

  But I couldn’t put that thought away. Menessos had Vivian back. She had cause for a serious grudge against me. She would offer up anything she had that might spare her the pain and torment Menessos clearly had planned for her.

  “How’s that possible?” Theo demanded, bringing me back to the situation at present.

  Johnny, still not looking at anyone, poured more cereal into his bowl. “Don’t know,” he said, his tone a little sharper. His sore spot had been found.

  Theo rested her arm casually on the back of Beverley’s chair. I knew this wasn’t over yet. “Those are interesting tattoos you have,” she said brightly, as if changing the subject. “I’ve always wanted to ask you about them.”

  Johnny’s expression darkened, however, suggesting that the subject hadn’t changed at all.

  Theo sipped her coffee. “How long have you had them?”

  “Long enough.” He put down his spoon and focused his Wedjat gaze on her steadily, trying for the intimidating look that worked on me without effort.

  If I had been Theo, I’d have stopped pushing right there, because poking around on a wild animal’s injury would get you mauled. But Theo was clearly not intimidated by Johnny, and frankly the nature of her business was asking questions. “Why did you choose the Egyptian Wedjat, the Chinese power-animals, and the Celtic knot-work on your arms, may I ask? It’s certainly an interesting mix of artwork and cultures.”

  He said nothing.

  “Do you perhaps have ancestral ties to them?” she pressed.

  “Not that I know of.”

  Theo cocked her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “I didn’t choose any of my tattoos.”

  Theo didn’t seem as surprised as the rest of us were. In fact, she seemed more like a cat watching a mouse walk into a carefully laid trap. “You let someone else choose the designs to be forever on your body?”

  Johnny scooted his chair back as he pushed the half-full bowl away. He stood. “I remember being attacked.” He ran a hand through his dark hair. “And I remember waking, naked, in a park. I had the tattoos then. It was later that I learned I’d become a wærewolf.”

  He looked so tough, so formidable standing there, spine stiff and muscles taut. Yet a vulnerability swam in his eyes and seemed to be begging for answers to questions he’d carried too long.

  I glanced at Theo to see her reaction to this, but the only thing about her that seemed out of place was how pale her knuckles were, her fingers grasping the mug very tightly as she said calmly, “And what of your life before the attack?”

  Johnny shrugged. “A blank.”

  All of this stunned me, but I wasn’t alone. Clearly, the other wærewolves hadn’t known any of it either.

  Johnny put his hands on his hips. “What does this tell you, Theo?”

  “Don’t know. I’ve just always wondered.” She faced me. “Remind you of anything witchy?”

  “No.”

  Nana shuffled in, wearing a matching top and pants of pale lavender and sage and her fuzzy pink slippers. I hadn’t heard her come down the steps, and I wondered if she’d heard any of our conversation. Her cigarette case was in her hand. Since she had fasted for the ritual, she was probably as hungry as I had been. She seemed tired, more tired than I’d ever seen her, and she didn’t so much as look at anyone, let alone greet them. Nana set the cigarette case on the table, slid into a chair, picked up a biscuit, split it open, and smeared jelly across it. “Okay, then, so what now?” she asked.

  “Wait for the vampire’s errand boy to come for the stake,” I answered. “There aren’t any options.”

  Johnny crossed his arms. “I don’t think we should just hand over the weapon of the millennium. I mean, it’s the one thing that can bring him down,” he said. “It’s the weapon you should have.”

  I knew he was referring to the Lustrata thing again. I didn’t want to talk about it. “I gave my word.”

  “So did he. It meant nothing, so why hold yourself to yours?”

  The attention of all the room’s occupants now focused on me. I understood why Johnny had seemed so sour when it had been him in the spotlight. “I’m better than that.”

  “And what price are you willing to pay to be better?”

  “You have a good point. In fact, it’s a great point. But, no. My security here is compromised. If I don’t give the stake to him, he’ll just send his lackeys out to come and take it.”

  “I disagree, Red. With your security gone, that stake is the only thing that will keep him at bay.”

  I groaned. “I just want to wash my hands of this mess! Keeping the stake will only keep this nasty wound open.”

  His eyes pleaded with me. “If wanting the bogeyman to go away were enough, Vivian wouldn’t have needed to make it in the first place.”

  The mood fell from tense to dismal. I rubbed at my brow. There wasn’t enough coffee in the world for a headache and soul-ache like this.

  Nana took a second biscuit and put it on the serving plate with what little remained of the omelets. “Menessos is a vampire-wizard, in case you
didn’t notice.” Nana’s sarcasm was thick. “And he won’t be restrained by a chant. Not even a full-out spell. Only that stake can stop him.”

  Johnny gave me an “I-told-you-so” look.

  “I did notice,” I responded irritably. “When I couldn’t stop him from staining me.”

  Nana faced me, and all her tiredness had transformed. She was mad. So she was also able to take all her emotions and force them into anger as it suited her. I had a lot of traits like hers. But one I didn’t have: Nana fully pissed off was frightening. She said, “It is a mark you must have.”

  “Must have?” Celia choked. “It’s a vampire’s filthy stain, Demeter!”

  I winced. Filthy. True, but it still hurt.

  Nana said, “If Persephone is the Lustrata, she must have it.”

  Now I really, really didn’t want to be the Lustrata.

  “Ummm…what’s a ‘lostraduh’?” Theo asked.

  “Lus-TRA-ta,” Nana corrected. “She is the one destined to erase the lines drawn between humans and wærewolves, vampires, and witches. The one whose word will be law to the benefit of all.”

  “Okay, that’s new,” I mumbled.

  “Wait a minute, I’m not following you,” Johnny said. “Why does the Lustrata have to be marked?”

  Nana poked at the eggs on her plate. “You know, Persephone, you were named for a goddess.”

  I’d been patient with her rambling up until now, but now she was bringing up the meaning of my name? “What does that have to do with being stained?”

  “The original Persephone walked in three worlds: the world of the gods, that of humans, and the underworld of the dead. As Lustrata, it is you who must be able to walk between worlds. You are a human and a witch, so you live in this world. You already have a presence in the wære-world through your friends and your column. But you need a mark to have a presence in the vampires’ world. It’s like…like a bus pass.”

  My words came slowly, trembling with anger and fear. “I don’t want a presence in their world.”

  Hard as nails, the Nana I remembered from my youth said, “What you want has become irrelevant.”

  Johnny looked at me as if I had a new horrible disfigurement that revolted him. He left the dining room and stomped through the living room and out my front door. His shadow passed the window as he strode off the porch.

  My phone rang. I slid from the seat with coffee mug in hand and went to answer it, fearing it would be the errand boy confirming a time for pickup. The voice on the other end of the line wasn’t one I’d expected. “Hey, Seph. You’re never going to guess what I’m calling about.”

  It was Jimmy Martin, my contact at the syndicate that had agreed to try to sell my column. Suddenly, I wondered if he was the errand boy, if he had ties to Menessos, if—wait. He sounded happy; he’d never sounded happy. “What’s up?”

  “I just got word that your column has been picked up for syndication by ten major newspapers, including the New York Times, the Washington Post, the LA Times, and the Minneapolis Star-Tribune, among others. I didn’t even know they were sniffing around. We’ve never had anything like this happen before!”

  I felt a cold shiver go through me. “That’s…that’s great, Jimmy.”

  “Oh, yeah, and there was a message, too. Where’d it go?”

  “Message?”

  “Yeah. Here it is. Says, ‘You have nothing to fear.’ Cryptic, huh? Like a fortune cookie or something. Just don’t start thinking you’re set, hotshot. Not yet. You do this right, and you can write your own ticket to television. Columns can turn into news segments and then into half-hour shows. And you don’t even blog! This is crazy…”

  Nothing to fear. Nothing to fear. “That’s great, Jimmy.”

  “You don’t sound too happy about it.”

  “No, I am. I am. Just surprised. Stunned. Like you said, we didn’t even know they were interested. And right now, I’ve got company here….”

  “Oh, sorry. Go share your good news. I got to get back to work myself. Bye.”

  “Bye.” I clicked the button on the receiver, but kept hold of it.

  Nothing to fear. That was what I’d told Menessos. What was that obviously well-connected jerk up to? Showing me how great he could make my life, only to use that as a means to tighten the screws of control and threaten me with ruining my career? Hell, he could do it, apparently. Without the column, I’d be delivering papers just to support Nana and Beverley.

  I hung the phone up. Through the window, I saw Johnny in the backyard, staring out across the stubbly cornfield. His hands in his jeans pockets, his back to the house; his weight was evenly distributed on both legs, and it reminded me of the stance of the black wolf. I left my empty mug by the coffeepot and went out through the garage to the backyard.

  That ache remained with me; I was aware of it most when nothing else was distracting me from it. Then Johnny’s body provided an adequate distraction. He made no move to indicate he heard me coming, but being a wære, he couldn’t have not known.

  “Johnny.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I just got an interesting phone call from my syndicate.”

  That surprised him enough that he faced me. “What about?”

  “Seems my column was just picked up by most every major newspaper in the U.S.”

  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 searche
d 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 26

  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.