Shattered Circle (23 page)

He’d be unstoppable with her in his control.

He wasn’t about to let his enemy possess and direct that kind of limitless resource—but he’d have to strike fast, while Menessos still thought no one knew about the girl’s power.

Adam turned in his seat and tapped on the glass that separated them. “Liyliy is coming, sir.”

“Start the engine. We must return downtown. To the Blood Culture.”

I
stood on the lakeshore alone.

Amenemhab had trotted away after I stroked his back for a while. The previous time we talked he’d said that I’d likely have a new totem soon. I didn’t want him to go; I liked him. So, in case this was our last visit, I’d petted him. He was softer than he looked and stroking him was comforting to me. He surely knew I was only delaying what I had to do next, but he let me anyway. He even licked my cheek before he left.

Now, the night sky was star-filled above me. The water remained dark before me. The willow at my back rustled in the breeze.

Inhaling a cleansing breath, I shut my eyes as I grounded and centered myself. Shoulders squared, I visualized Creepy’s face in my mind and said, “I’m ready.”

The wind picked up and the temperature dropped. The lake began to give off an ever-thickening haze that the air moved around in dancing swirls. In a matter of moments, the world grew shrouded in a gray veil of mist.

He’s coming
.

The fog shifted and I stared at the lake, trying to make out a shape in it. The moisture in the air seemed to hold all sounds close, amplifying my breathing in my own ears. I could hear the lapping of the waves much louder than before, and a soft splashing as if there were a
boat on the water. Behind those sounds, a distant thunder was rumbling closer.

Fearing it might rain here and drench me, I stepped forward, waving my arms as if that would part the gray air. Perhaps if I saw a boat I could get on it and get going before I was soaked. However, my efforts revealed nothing. All I managed to accomplish was to get my socks wetter and muddier and sandier.

I stared at my feet and again wished for my shoes. The thunder was getting louder.

When I looked up I caught a momentary glimpse of a black dragon’s head in the mist.

It was gone as quickly as it appeared, but I stepped forward, ankle deep in the lake. “Wait!”

I’d seen dragons here before. They pulled a boat that carried Hecate. She could help me. She was a goddess. She could get me the hell out of here.

I took another step into the water. “Wait!” I called twice more, in case I’d been drowned out by the roaring rumble.

And then it hit me: That rumble was more distinct now . . . like many hooves.

As soon as I thought it, four black steeds thundered out of the mist side by side. Skidding to a stop at the edge of the embankment, they tossed their thick manes and nickered protests. The chariot they pulled was shiny black with a huge screaming skull of silver on the front center.

Creepy stood in the chariot holding the reins with clenched fists. He wore armor that matched the chariot; a crested helmet, bracers, greaves, and a cuirass over his black tunic. Pteruges, feather-like leather strips, hung
from the cuirass in black layers, each adorned at the bottom with a silver skull. He raised one finger and gestured. “Come.”

I walked to the back of the chariot and, before stepping up onto it, got an eyeful of the backs of his muscular legs. He indicated I should stand beside him at the front. I obeyed, very aware that my muddy socks left tracks on the chariot floor.

“Hold on.” He tapped the chariot’s upper edge.

I gripped it tight. Good thing; he cracked the reins and the horses leapt into a gallop with enough force they nearly set me on my ass even though I was holding on.

We raced across the field, climbed rolling hills, and delved into shallow valleys. The horses’ hooves kept rhythm while small metal decorations on the harnesses—skulls again—tinkled an accenting sound. Add that to the bumpy nighttime ride and somehow, as the minutes wore on and on, I grew so tired that I curled up at Creepy’s feet and slept.

“Persephone. Open your eyes.”

I roused in the fetal position in the same decaying building I’d started out in.

Creepy stood towering over me. He was in the modern dark suit again. “It is time to decide.”

I sat up, scooting away from him, and in doing so discovered that we were on a jagged-edged circular section of floor about four feet across. The rest of the floor was gone. It felt solid and steady, so I doubted it was hovering as much as it was held up by some support beneath. At least the thought that it was something other than Creepy’s will keeping us from crashing down made me happier.

I posed, sitting, leaning back on my hands with my legs bent in front of me. This hopefully showed him I was comfortable.
Casual. Be casual
. “I have a question first,” I said meekly.

His hands slid into his pockets. “Once again, the questions are free.” The words were accommodating, but the tone was tight with irritation.

“I understand that I sought help and ended up with you and am therefore obligated to accept your help. I understand that I can choose to do things my way, or I can accomplish much the same thing another way, one at your discretion.”

“None of that contained an inquiry.”

“Right. Here’s the question.” I held his gaze steadily. “What is the cost for your services if I choose my way, and what is the cost if I choose your way?”

His masklike expression didn’t change a bit. He gazed unwaveringly down at me for several heartbeats, then his focus slid around my body and returned to my face. “I intend to have you, either way.”

My heart sputtered and skipped a beat.

Don’t accept the first offer,
Amenemhab had said.
It shows weakness. You must negotiate.
He needn’t fear. Though Creepy was handsome, I was definitely going to negotiate out of this. Aside from the fact that my moral compass would not let me hop into bed with someone just because I found him attractive, my lips were sore from his
kiss
; sex with him was out of the question. “And if that is not something I am willing to barter?”

“Willing or unwilling is irrelevant. That is part of my price.”

I swallowed hard enough to hear it and fought against
the chill tickling my spine. I had to hold some semblance of power here. My totem had mentioned posturing as well. “Submissive” obviously wasn’t going to gain me any leniency. In fact, it might have encouraged him.

I stood up. “Part of it? I demand that you tell me what your full price is, with each option. I cannot finalize my decision without knowing.” My hands rested on my hips.

He glanced at the ceiling and conveyed thoughtfulness for about half a second. “If I am to proceed according to the design you arrived with, you must allow me to satisfy myself with you in three ways. If I am to aid you in ridding yourself of doubts and avoiding those you love coming to harm as leverage used against you, then you must allow me to satisfy myself with you two different ways.”

I scowled. “Satisfy yourself? Geez. Can you make it sound any more smarmy?”

“If that’s a request, yes I can.”

“Forget I said it.” I waved him off. Amenemhab had suggested that I explore his demands, not only to pin him down as to what he meant precisely, but to see if there was information there that I could use to get him to make concessions. “But what do you mean by ‘two’ and ‘three different ways’? Elaborate.” I was hoping he meant positions and not that many orifices—then I scolded myself for even hoping he meant positions. This bargain should not be happening at all.

His lips curved. “You want to know how I like to satisfy myself with a woman?” He reached up and rubbed his thumb across my lips. “Remember this?”

They felt slightly swollen, definitely still sore. “That’s all it takes to satisfy you? A rough kiss?”

“That was a taste of what I like.” He moved in closer.

I crossed my arms defensively.

Ignoring my move, he wrapped his arms around me and whispered into my ear. “I want you naked before me. I want to touch you, to fondle and caress you. I want to grope you until I’ve found all the spots that make you tremble with desire. I want to bring you to the edge of orgasm. I want to hear you beg me not to stop. But I will.”

Maybe I liked his looks, but he’d done things that made me wary of him even before he’d brought me here, gone all weird and gotten physically rough with me. “Listen up,” I said forcefully, “I do not
want
to have sex with you.”

“I know this.” He spun away. “I know you have a skewed image of me in your mind.”

He’d gone from aggressive sexual predator to sneeringly rejected date in the blink of an eye. I arched a brow guardedly. “Skewed?”

“Your perception of me was influenced by others.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “You will not give me fair consideration so long as you are being swayed by the words of a jealous would-be lover.”

Why did he even care about my fair consideration of him? He didn’t think . . .
oh hell
. I blinked repeatedly.

“Menessos must have said things about me. Why else would you be so resistant and mistrustful when I am only offering you what you want as you want it, and giving you the option of improving upon that idea?”

“It’s not your offers I have issues with, it’s your secretiveness about your method on option two and your price for each that are problematic.”

He turned back. “You are circumspect only because of his lack of trust—”

“No, I assure you, I’m rather prudent in
all
my decisions.”

Ignoring my response, he continued. “—and his actions are rooted in jealousy . . . you
are
beautiful, Persephone.” He cupped my cheek adoringly. “He has every right to try to keep you to himself. But he does not have the right to manipulate you so.”

My first impulse was to defend Menessos. The second impulse was to put the blame where it should be and remind him that he’d broken Ivanka’s arm, poisoned my dragon, and that I had dubbed him Creepy for a reason. But the jackal had warned me that those kinds of actions would only weaken my position. Pointing out his crimes would not inspire him to lower his price. It would only fortify his excuse to dig in and negotiate less.

I had to be cooperative and warm, Amenemhab had said, to find a common ground.

I looked at the man who wouldn’t let me leave this meditation until we’d struck up some kind of bargain with sex as his payment, and knew my expression was full of frustrated disdain.

“Cooperative and warm” was not going to be easy.

T
he force that hit Johnny was an inferior one, but the blow connected precisely on his knee. He could not keep from falling. As he pitched to the side, something large rolled past him.

Johnny roared and scrabbled onto his inhuman feet, but the large object made the transition much more smoothly.

Brian.

The Omori pulled two pistols from his belt even as he gained his feet. Both pointed at the vampire, who lay unmoving. Then Brian lowered himself to one knee. “Sire. Sire, please. Stand down.”

The beast flicked its claws. Rage boiled in his chest.

But Johnny heard.

Seconds ticked by as he struggled with the duality of his desires.
Save Red. Taste enemy blood.
His heart was all for the woman; but his head was filled with fury and his jaws dripped thick saliva. The moment wore painfully on, tension roiling around him like tangible ribbons of hate—then the man surfaced from someplace deep in the waters of his mind and, gasping, fought for control.

One rear paw slid backward. His weight shifted. He brought the other paw in line with this one. Turning his head to maintain his watch on the vampire, he crouched low. Commanding his beast to retreat, he concentrated
and held his mental ground as he forced the feral creature inside him to succumb, to shrink and submit.

When the wolf began relenting, his man-form was regained.

His skin felt hot as the cold air of the house swirled around him. Staying down, balanced on his toes, one knee, and the tips of his fingers, Johnny shivered. From head to toe he shook, adrenaline and aggression coursing like whitewater rapids through his veins. He focused on the vampire, but that receding part of him wished the damned thing would twitch once so he could pounce and finish it off. The man knew it was wrong, but the wolf wanted it all the same. If the vamp provoked him, he would be justified. And it would burn up this excess energy.

“Sire.”

Johnny’s head snapped toward the Omori and a growl slipped out unchecked.

The young man’s blue eyes were set, his expression serious. “Sire. Forgive my interference, but you must not kill
that
vampire.”

The Omori had put specific emphasis on the word. “Why not?”

“I’m sure you’ve had some security briefings, sire, but perhaps you don’t recognize him. That vamp is one of a dozen or so high-ranking officials included in our OPS training. He’s important. Important enough to be on a do-not-kill list.”

Aurelia had pestered him about security briefings; he had not made time for them yet. “Who is he?”

“His name is Franciscus Meroveus. He is an advisor to the Excelsior. Killing him would cause friction between
wæres and vamps. Hostilities would follow—off the record, underground, and out of the public eye if we were lucky, but it would be ugly nonetheless.”

Johnny glowered. He was still breathing hard, but he’d brought it down to rushing breaths through flared nostrils. Control was returning. Gradually. “He did something to Red.”

Brian readjusted his grip on the guns, shifted his position, and changed the angle of his aim. The guns looked heavy and fully loaded; even a wærewolf had to amend his pose to avoid muscle fatigue. “Do you want to instigate a war . . . over a woman?”

Johnny fought down a snarl.

“I am at your command, sire.” Brian paused. When Johnny didn’t answer he added, “If you want a war, this
will
give you one.”