"Fatal Circle" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robertson Linda)

CHAPTER FIVE

Nana’s rage was frightening, but as I sank onto the couch all I felt was numbness. Not only was I on the brink of a war, my best allies were cutting me off. I understood what was being done, and why, but still my stomach was twisting into knots that cut off all emotion.

“Pretty convincing, don’t you think?” Nana was beaming. Smoke, left in the wake of Xerxadrea and company’s departure, swirled around her head like a nimbus of doused anger-flames. “The highlight was seeing Lydia retreat. Oh, I’ve waited years to bust her ass with a dose of reckoning.”

I squinted at her, confused. Seemed she knew what was going on. But how? “Are you scrying again?”

Before she could answer, Johnny interrupted. “Red, she said Menessos had a crushing hold on you.” Johnny was more sober; he’d bought the act.

The protrepticus buzzed in my jeans pocket.

I’d forgotten all about it. A dead cell phone turned into a magical device powered by my aural energy, it connected only to Xerxadrea and her lucusi via a spirit who lived inside it. In life, the spirit had been Samson D. Kline, the defunct Southern Baptist preacher and the brother of Menessos’s next in command, Goliath Kline. As the ever-changing ring tone sang through the denim I recognized “Renegade” by Kansas.

Thunder rumbled in the distance and the rain began to fall. Taking the song and the rumbling sky as conclusive evidence I was about to get angry—Sam always pissed me off—I snapped the phone open. “What is it, Sam?”

“You played that perfect!” He laughed so hard that even on the little screen I could see his stomach flab jiggling like Jell-O under his light blue polyester suit.

“Played it?” Johnny joined me on the couch, leaning to see the screen.

Sam smoothed his bad Donald Trump comb-over and went on. “Xerxadrea is very pleased.”

“Like we give a shit about whether or not she’s happy!” Johnny spat. “After what she just did.”

I put my hand on his arm. “She’s cutting me off but it’s not because of Menessos. It’s to protect me. There’s a possible inside threat.”

“A possible inside threat?” Johnny repeated.

Nana’s beam turned quizzical.

I explained what had happened in the cellar the night before, although I left out exactly what Johnny and I were doing when Menessos showed up. “The hanky Menessos burned represented a blood oath he had made to Xerxadrea at the Eximium. Someone who knew of that hanky told the fairies about it. That someone had to have been present at the Eximium. It could be a contestant, or it could be one of the Elders—two of them are in her lucusi. This ‘mole’ may intend to do more damage, so cutting me off from the group protects me from that possibility.”

Samson loosened his tie even further. “It is not a ‘possibility,’ the danger is real. Everyone here will have to cut you off, too.”

Nana’s rage returned, but this time it was the real thing. One hand fisted and the other jabbed the air toward Sam. “You lyin’ stripe-ed-ass snake!” She pronounced words with more syllables than they were supposed to have. Her declaration was ten times more hostile with a half-burned cigarette still dangling from her lips. “That is not true!”

Sam’s fingers mimed the motion of making a puppet talk to mock her as she spoke. “They’ll use your safety to compromise her!” He added in a quiet grumble, “You old biddy.”

“Ha!” She jerked the stub from her mouth. “She knows better than to let worry for an old woman—whose life has been lived—keep her from her task.”

No I don’t. “Nana. I couldn’t let them hurt you.”

Johnny stood and paced. “They just put up new wards. And if the gestures mean what I think they mean, it’s above and below as well as around. This place must be safe.”

“It is safe,” Sam agreed. “While you’re here.”

“I can stay put,” Nana said.

With a self-satisfied smirk, Sam hooked his thumbs under his lapels and his fingers galloped on his chest. “But the kid has to go to school. Outside the wards. Five days a week.”

That made the shoulders of both Nana and Johnny slump in defeat.

Home school, I thought. But I couldn’t confine Beverley here. That seemed cruel. She deserved a normal life. Normal, for Beverley, meant public school.

I didn’t want to be a vampire master’s witch-at-court, and I really didn’t want the crap that came with it, such as the risk of being Bindspoken. But even more than that, I didn’t want my family to come to harm because of me. I set the phone on the table, still open, and stood. “I have to go away and be inducted as Menessos’s Erus Veneficus.”

Nana sank into the chair. “No.”

“That’s what the old witch said was all the trouble. Why would you go ahead and do whatever that is?” Johnny asked.

“It means she’d be the witch at the beck and call of the vampire, before all his court,” Sam answered.

Johnny shook his head. “No way.”

“Johnny.”

“She said his grip was crushingly tight on you! He’s reeling you in more! Can’t you see that?”

My nails raked through my hair. I needed to tell him the truth now. But not in front of Nana and Sam.

“She will be safe there, in his house,” Samson said.

“Safe? Surrounded by bloodsuckers?”

“Safe from the fairies,” Sam clarified.

Johnny exuded defiance. “How is it safer there than here with the wards?”

“The vampire’s house is surrounded by asphalt and is made of iron. Two things the fairies can’t tolerate. Here, twenty acres of rural farmland. Fairy heaven.”

Their conversation was fast enough it kept me from interrupting. Johnny ended it by snatching the phone and smacking it closed. I think he wanted to throw it across the room, but he knew it couldn’t get too far from me. He handed it to me almost reluctantly.

“It’ll have to be a public ceremony,” I said to Nana.

“Oh, my god,” Johnny cut in. “He does have a hold on you!”

“He does not! She said that to make the rest of what she said convincing. If you’ll let me explain it to you—”

Nana interrupted, “A public ceremony is dangerous, Seph.”

My head was reeling.

“Sam just said she’d be safe there. Do you mean she’s not?” I could count on Johnny to jump on any angle that might keep me from Menessos.

Nana answered, “Not all the Lustrata’s enemies are fey.”

“Maybe we can use this,” I said, “to draw those enemies out.” I bit my lip, considering. “But Nana, as soon as we make the announcement, you have to go to the press and make it public that you’re renouncing me over it.”

Before she could protest, Johnny did. “No one will care about that! What grandmother wouldn’t renounce her granddaughter when she becomes the Erus-thingy-witch of a vampire?”

“If the fairies believe we’ve had a falling-out,” I said, “they’ll be less inclined to try any repeat kidnappings.”

Nana snorted and crushed the filter into the ashtray. “The fairies won’t believe, ‘Oh, I’m so disappointed in her, I never want to see her again.’ It’s too simple.”

A lump rose in my throat trying to keep me from saying what had to come next. I swallowed down. “They’ll believe it if you out me to the media.” That silenced them both. “The true identity of the Lustrata, to those in the know, will be revealed.”

“You didn’t want that,” Nana said.

“Which is why it’ll work.”

“No.” Nana shook her head. “You’re not just saying, ‘Hey, here’s your chance!’ to Menessos’s enemies and human opposition in general. You’re telling the Lustrata’s enemies where to find you and opening the doors.”

“But it’s shutting the doors on you and Beverley becoming leverage used to get at me.”

“That’s too dangerous, Red.” Johnny’s voice was tight. “That could get you killed.”

“Exactly. It’s not information Nana would give lightly. It should be proof enough that we are truly through with each other. She’s practically inviting someone to kill me.”

She smacked the arm of the chair. “I won’t do it!”

“Nana, you have to.” Goddess, I hope I know what I’m doing. “It’s the only way to buy your safety and Beverley’s.”

“Buying our lives with yours is too high a price.” Nana sank back into the cushiony chair. “Going public is the last thing you wanted,” she croaked softly. “Now you’re giving it up to make yourself a target.”

Her tone left me squeezing back sudden burning tears. “I’m the one taking action, it should be my risk. Not yours. I’ll give it up gladly because that’s better than you or Beverley getting hurt.” My voice had gotten husky. “The advantage of making myself the target is knowing I’m the target. Believe me, I’ll be taking down names.”

Johnny crossed his arms. “I won’t cut you off. I won’t abandon you. I have no ties for them to exploit.”

I had to be honest. “Your career with the band could be ruined.”

He paused, but just for a second. “I don’t care. That Tarot reading Demeter did weeks ago said I’d have to sacrifice something in order to gain something else of greater value.” He gripped my arms as Menessos had done in the cellar. “I pick you.”

His gesture, too, was sincere, and I felt protected by him, not protective of him. I expected the Domn Lup to ably protect himself as well as me.

“How can you be sure about this?” Johnny squeezed just a little more.

“The witches have absolutely no presence in Menessos’s haven.” I slid the protrepticus into my pocket. “So whether it was an Elder or a contestant, they’re cut off from me and that will keep me from being an easy target.”

“Red, the witches don’t worry me.”

“They should. Many of them fear the Lustrata will make things worse for witches. They’ll work hard to stop that from happening. Someone has already taken action, sharing info with the fairies. When I’m inducted into the vampire’s court, that’s a ceremony they have no cause to want to see. If any of them show up, we’ll know something is awry.”

“Yeah, I know you can handle that. But the vamp will have all the time in the world to manipulate you. Can’t you be safe without having another tie to him?”

“Johnny, please trust me, he does not have a hold on me.” I tried to let him see in my expression how valid that statement was. “This is a minimal tie, considering. And I have to talk to you about the stain. It’s different than you think it is.” The fewer people who knew it was a hex, the better. “Perhaps upstairs?”

He brightened considerably. “Alone in your bedroom?” He leaned down for a kiss.

“Sheesh.” Nana stood and shuffled off to the kitchen with her ashtray.

Johnny’s lips were soft, but he hadn’t shaved this morning. The stubble was rough on my skin in a good way. My fingers trailed over his cheeks. When the kiss ended, he said, “I am your protector. Where you go, I go.”

“You’d follow me to Menessos’s court?”

“I’d follow you into hell, Persephone.”

My thoughts ran to Nana’s Tarot reading he’d mentioned. Hermes was the Magician on the last card, the final outcome. The Magician was an inner guide that sometimes directs one to perilous and wearisome places, but only to point out the potential one has.

“Havens probably have rules like covens and dens do. No matter what, we’ll find a way for you to be there. My acceptance of the title will be subject to your acceptance there, too.” In one version of the mythology, it was Hermes who rescued Persephone from the underworld where she was the prisoner of Hades. Maybe Johnny would be the one to get me out.

“Actually,” came Menessos’s voice from the hallway. “The Erus Veneficus is allowed a pet.”