Wicked Circle (40 page)

But how am I supposed to “evolve” when I’m tied up and imprisoned?
Evolving sounded like it should be a very active process.

To the darkness, I said, “I asked once for the wisdom to keep my feet upon this path, to be what You had made me, Hecate, and to accomplish the goals You set before me, to be Your instrument, humble and just, and fulfill my purpose. Well, here I am. Show me Your bright torches.”

I waited.

And waited.

“Just a little illumination would be helpful.”

The glowing armor that was the mantle of the Lustrata began to shine around me.

Thank you, Hecate.
She had bestowed this upon me when I’d accepted the name, rank
and responsibility of being Lustrata. It had glowed around me when she’d given it to me, when Xerxadrea had outed me to her personal coven, and when I’d been in the darkness of the Hall of Tartarus.

Its light was reassuring, and I kicked myself for not thinking of this earlier.

This beautiful silvery armor had gleamed to identify me and light my way, and yet its brilliance had surrounded me on one other occasion, unbidden: when I’d forced the former Rege into a half-transformation. It had been a desperate action for me, but apparently a moment of judgment, as well.
To be Your instrument.

Was that my evolution, to be more than a woman who stepped up whenever Chance lay at my feet, an occasion when some action of mine could make a difference? Was I to go from being defensive but proactive, to being offensive and aggressive?

Still bound, I couldn’t attack Liyliy. At least not physically.

That left magic, but I couldn’t tap the ley.

Creepy had said that I needed to know I could do this.
This what?
Amenemhab had said to combine what I have.

Feeling stupid and helpless and disliking every second of it, I consoled myself with the perks. I was bound to two powerful men. Hecate was on my side. I’d passed tests of fire, water, and air.

Wait.
Creepy had also said,
“I can feel the storm within you. The burning blaze and the flood, too.”

He’d pointed out that I had the fire and flood and storm within me. Three elements. Three tests. And here I sat on a mound of salt, which represented earth—the one element in which I had
not yet earned anything. And yet, iron represented fire. Air was in abundance, and if this was a ship, then there was water nearby.

How could I combine fire, air and water? Fire and water canceled each other out—or fire caused water to transmute and combine with air . . .
steam
!

What could I do with steam?

I had to get off this salt.

Wriggling and dragging myself across this would take forever. Without my hands free to balance, hopping or crawling was out. I figured rolling would be the best way—and most painful. Gritting my teeth and tensing to restrict some of the movement my shoulder was about to endure, I made the first and second rotations. I had to catch my breath, then I made two more. Following this pattern, I neared the wall quickly.

Guided by the light of my mantle, I sat up and scooted into position by the ladder. I lifted my arms and, using only my left, levered my feet under me. I stood—too fast—and had to grapple for the higher half-moon rungs to keep from keeling over. Holding on, I shook off as much of the salt as I could, then slid my foot into one of the half-moon openings. They were too far apart for my bindings to reach both, so I had to settle for having only one foot bearing me. Like an inchworm moving one end, then the other, I eventually had myself three rungs from the level of the salt.

After securing my balance with my knee, I reached around the support bracket, placed both palms against the iron and focused my will.

Metal, iron, smelted ore

Element of fire in your core

That heat within, I bid
it rise

Release it now, these ropes incise!

My thumbs tingled, and I felt a jolt like I had when under my mother’s truck trying to get the tire.
What the—?

My thumbs! Mudras! Of course!

In yogic theories, the mudras were various hand gestures and positions that awakened the kundalini, or the corporeal energy. Each finger represented a different element. Thumbs represented fire, and metal represented fire, which explained the charge I got under the truck and here!

Bending my thumbs back to touch the rope as much as I could, I pressed the outermost loop against the edge of the bracket. I smelled smoke. Maintaining my single-mindedness, I rubbed the rope against it and snorted against the stink of burning fibers.

Incredibly, the silvery threads I’d noticed in the rope before were some type of metal—and the metal was part of Liyliy. It liquefied and re-formed as barbed wire, cutting into me as I applied pressure to the rope.

I had to work fast—surely Liyliy knew I was doing something now.

Increasing the pressure of the rope on the heated bracket, the sharp barbs of the wire broke my skin, and the wire heated. As the rope burned, so did I.

Grinding my teeth, groaning through the searing pain, I kept pushing.

The rope severed. I jerked from the bracket, steadying myself with my knee, and flapped my hands so the rope would unwind itself—but the wire did not fall away. In fact, the weight of the rope seemed to push the barbs deeper.

I used my thumbs to touch
the bracket and thrust the wire against the edge directly. The wire fought, tightened, and tore my skin before the heat melted it through. I pulled free of it so fast I probably did more and unnecessary damage, but I didn’t want to risk the stuff re-forming.

I leapt down to the salt. I had to get my feet free now; Liyliy was surely connected to this stuff and knew what I was doing.

The knot in the rope around my ankles was in the back, so I couldn’t see it well. Additionally, my thumbs were numb from directing so much of the fire element through them, so I dug at it with my fingers. Messing with it caused the wire in it to grow barbs as well. These seemed to spring up everywhere I reached—until I dug my thumbs under the wire. “Fire!”

The wire melted around my touch and fell into the salt.

I rolled away from it and worked at the rope. Where my thumbs touched, the fibers burned. Knowing what to do now, I touched my thumbs onto the rope—on a spot not in contact with my skin—and burned through.

Kicking free of the coils, I tore off my shoes, climbed to my feet and reached for the ladder.

M
ero, Ailo, and Talto were being given a tour of the haven by Menessos. “And concluding our little tour, this is the Haven, with a capital
H
. There is already a national buzz about this nightclub, and it is expected to become a destination for those who would seek a place in our nocturnal culture.”

Mero was impressed. “It will support the entire group?”

“We believe so. There will be plenty of job openings for my . . . I mean for Goliath’s Offerlings and Beholders there, as well as at The Blood Culture.”

“What is that?” Ailo asked.

“It was Heldridge’s brainchild. An ingenious combination of business and strategy, The Blood Culture is a bar located between the Cleveland Clinic and University Hospitals. It is also right on the Health Line, a designated transit that connects them. Local healthcare professionals supplement their income by giving blood, as do the many area college students. Then the bar sells it to the local vampires.”

“Do they cater to a mortal clientele as well?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“And your local government does not object?” Mero asked.

“Only the local Red Cross was bothered. We made a deal with them. They have
their people collect the blood, and we donate half of it to them. We had a surplus anyway.”

A silence lingered, and Menessos gestured them out of the construction zone and back into the haven. “Do you mind if I make a call?” Mero asked, getting out his cell phone and putting it to his ear. “My reception isn’t the best below.”

“Indeed,” Menessos said. “Ladies.” He gestured again, and they preceded him to the stairwell. The elevator dinged and opened as they started down.

“There you are,” Giovanni exclaimed. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Mero kept his phone at his ear, as if he were continuing to talk to someone, even though he’d halted his call when he spotted Giovanni. He listened as Menessos asked, “What can I help you with, Giovanni?”

“Not you. Meroveus.” Giovanni spotted him and aimed his course right for him.

“I’ll call you back,” Mero said and shut his phone.

“Yes?”

Giovanni opened his mouth and shut it again.

“What is it?” Mero asked.

“I need a favor.”

It evidently cost him to say the words, so Mero responded benevolently. “What is wrong?”

“I loathe the paperwork of a haven. I am no businessman. And I am no mediator, either. I am a warrior, I settle disputes by killing my enemy. And I now long to slay both the masters of the Columbus and the Cincinnati havens.”

“But of course you cannot. What can I do?”

“Talk to the Excelsior. Have him revoke my status as Interim Quarterlord
and call me back to Washington.”

Mero put a hand on Giovanni’s shoulder. “I will see what I can do.”

After speaking with his son, Mero returned to the lower levels of the haven. Just as he drew near to Mark, who was again guarding the door of Menessos’s private rooms, Seven came running, her phone in her hand. Mark kept Mero back with one thick arm and opened the door for Seven smoothly with the other. She entered without breaking stride.

Mero and Mark crowded the doorway behind her.

“Boss. Just got a call.”

“And?”

“Privately?” She flicked a glance toward the sisters.

“Outside.”

Mero and Mark backed up. Seven and Menessos left next. Mark shut the door.

“Well?” Menessos asked.

“One of the Beholders on patrol spotted Liyliy entering a convenience store. Said she was filling a basket with candy bars.”

Menessos grabbed her arms. “Where?”

“I’ve called for your car to be brought. I’ll explain on the way there.” She led him away.

Mark remained by the door, but Mero followed. Menessos held his stomach, jogging to keep up with Seven, who said, “I have the Beholder’s location—are you all right?”

“Yes. Please continue.”

“I have the location. I sent a call for everyone else to form a grid, stationed on every street corner expanding away from her location
so we can register her movements in any direction.”

“Seven, I could kiss you.”

“Save them for her, boss.”

Menessos gave a snort. “You must quit calling me that.”

Seven flashed him a smile as she ran. “Never.”

I
couldn’t reach the overhead door from this ladder, but the catwalk had a secondary ladder. I had to swing my leg over the railing and climb it from the outer side of the catwalk, but after climbing as high as possible, I wrapped one leg around the ladder to steady myself and shoved at the hatch cover. It was too heavy for me to just slide this panel into the next. Rising another ladder rung, I gained some leverage. Pushing with all my might, I managed to open it two inches. I wasn’t sure I could gain enough leverage to open it far enough to crawl through.

Then air swirled in around me.

Putting one knee over the rung to balance myself, I lifted both arms over my head. My shoulder ached, but I pressed my index fingers—fingers associated with air—against the metal roof.

Breath and breeze and gusting wind

Element of air bluster in!

Eddy and churn, swirl and sigh

Take this door and open it wide!

I’ve heard wind howl beyond my windows. I’ve heard it rush through the trees. Neither of those sounded anything like the screaming force that answered me. Salt whipped into the air and scoured my skin. I shut my eyes and fought to maintain my position.

The roof creaked like a door slowly
closing, then the sound escalated. With a
whoosh
it was shoved open.

I climbed free of the cargo hold.

Standing on the deck, I looked around. The city of Cleveland lay beyond, all aglow.

Closer was the Rock Hall to my left and the Great Lakes Science Center just ahead. I was on the
William G. Mather,
the steamship that built Cleveland—now a museum.

I laughed, delighted to be free.
How do I get off of here?

A shrill screech in the sky stole my good humor.

With a frustrated groan, I straddled the railing. I had to touch the water to invoke it.

Then my attention caught on the water. This was going to be cold.

I leapt.

It was more than cold. I surfaced, shivering and treading water. The mantle remained around me, and its soft glow helped Liyliy locate me. I couldn’t release it; only with it active could I access the elements. My teeth chattered as I gathered my will. I pointed with my pinky fingers while still paddling the water with my hands. Liyliy was diving in, talons forward.

Stream, river and beautiful lake

Element of water, crest and break

Froth and splatter, splash and spray

Reach and cast my enemy away!

The calm water stirred around me. Waves built and crested over me. The current carried me away as the owl was slapped with a mighty wave. With a flap of her wings she gained altitude and circled back.

Again she made a try for me,
and again an uncanny wave rescued me.

Dawn was a long way off. I would succumb to the cold long before the sun rose.