Arcane Circle

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Eris finished her list, handed it to me, and lit another cigarette. The wærewolves had retreated to the corner and were whispering to themselves. Zhan leaned on the wall at the entrance to the hallway, arms crossed, and periodically glanced into the front area. Lance had given up on his ice pack, but seemed to be doing his best to be forgotten.

As I skimmed down the list, Eris said, “After you slammed the door … I thought I’d never have the chance to see you again.”

For three heartbeats we stared at each other, then I laid down the paper. I grabbed the cigarette from her, stubbed it out, then tossed the pack into the garbage. “If Johnny didn’t need you to do this—and what irony that it was you—then you wouldn’t be seeing me.” I sat and calmly resumed reading.

Or trying to read. My mind was still reeling from the knowledge that she, my deadbeat mother of all people, had been the one to magically dam up Johnny’s power.

She recrossed her legs the other way, and the bouncing resumed. “How does the vampire fit into this equation?”

“You’re in no position to press me for information.”

“But you’re Erus Veneficus to a Regional Quarter Lord—I saw it on the news, Pittsburgh is part of his domain—and you’re here with a wærewolf claiming to be the Domn Lup.”

I ignored her and assessed the list. Candles. Yellow, blue, red, silver, purple, green, black. Stones. Amber, moonstone, red jasper—

“You’ve accomplished so much.”

—aventurine, amethyst, jade, hematite. Herbs. Cinnamon and rosemary. Eucalyptus and myrrh. Basil and allspice. That wasn’t even half the list. I wagged the sheet in the air. “Do you have all of this somewhere or are we supposed to hit your local witch supply store in a shopping spree? This stuff needs to be consecrated and empowered and we’re in a waning moon phase.”

“The moon is new tomorrow—” She stopped herself, stood. “Shit.”

“What?”

“I told you: It took me a week to do this in the first place. If we’re going to attempt to undo it, we have to get going and I mean now.”

She had everyone’s attention now, and she thrived in the spotlight. “The moon will be new at nine minutes after five, tomorrow evening. The sun will set at five-ten. In order to best break the bonds put on you, I have to banish those bonds, and that’s best done under the sliver of a waning moon. There’ll be no moon tomorrow.”

“But that’s magic,” Johnny said. “This is sorcery.”

“The influence of the energies is still relevant.”

Johnny asked me for confirmation with a wordless glance. I nodded.

“So either we make this an all-nighter tonight,” Eris said, imbuing her words with the sense of having the advantage in the situation, “or we get the gang together again in a few weeks and take a more subtle one-per-night schedule.”

Johnny’s dark look reminded her that she hadn’t ever had the advantage here. “I don’t intend to leave until it is done.”

Eris tucked hair behind her ear, revealing three piercings in her earlobe and a tribal line tattoo behind and beneath her ear, along the hairline. “I have the supplies. Upstairs.”

Zhan drew the gun from her shoulder holster. “Then let’s go get them, shall we?”

Eris, Zhan, and I headed for the back door where Kirk still held his position. Zhan grabbed Eris’s arm to hold her back. “You go first,” she told me. To Eris, she said, “Don’t try anything stupid. You won’t outrun me or a bullet. I never miss.”

I noticed Kirk’s spine stiffen. “Never?” he asked.

“Never,” Zhan affirmed.

Kirk gave her the once-over like he’d never seen her before. While wæres are notoriously horny, they would rather spit on a vampire’s Offerling than look at one. But these two had a couple of things in common, for one, guns. Kirk was an ex-military sharpshooter. And they both were Asian.

“Keep your eyes in your head, fur-face,” Zhan snapped.

Kirk sneered. “Blood whore.”

In an instant, Zhan had released Eris and pressed the business end of her pistol against Kirk’s temple. “Mind your mouth, dog, or I’ll muzzle you permanently.”

Kirk held his hands up as if he were surrendering. He said nothing, but his expression was a billboard proclaiming his approval.

I opened the door and discovered a metal staircase leading up to a small landing. An older blue Corvette was parked under it; the Tahoe the other wæres had driven was beside it.

Eris took a set of keys from a peg by the door and followed me up the stairs, then unlocked it and led us inside. “Welcome to my home, Persephone. If I’d known you were going to drop by and bring friends, I’d have picked up.”

The dining area was right in front of us, the living room to the left. A pair of faux-distressed leather couches had an Aztec print area rug between them. One had a southwestern blanket crumpled at the far end, pillows with Aztec designs graced the other. A Pittsburgh Penguins jersey was draped on the back of one sofa. There was a TV on a table against the wall, DVD player underneath stacked with movies. I saw The Fast and the Furious and Tokyo Drift.

I took in the pizza boxes and empty two-liters perched on the corner of the glass-top dining table. A Steelers’ hoodie was draped over the arm of one chair.

Beyond the table was an opening to a hall. The bathroom opened off it and, since the hall stretched in both directions, I assumed there were bedrooms, too. To my right was a doorway to the kitchen, where a cereal box sat out, a cabinet door hung open, and two granola bar wrappers lay on the counter beside a half-empty glass of milk. The uncovered garbage can was overflowing.

Seeing that she lived in a normal apartment with normal house items made her seem like a normal person, not the mean, cruel woman I had imagined her to be.

“It isn’t grand, but it’s paid for,” she said proudly. “Magic stuff’s this way.” She led us through the kitchen to a black door in the back. Zhan inspected the bedrooms while I followed Eris. She took hold of the doorknob. “I call this the woogie room.”

“Woogie? You got Chewbacca in there?” I asked.

“Woogie. Not wookiee.” She frowned. “Nana doesn’t like space movies, does she?”

“No.”

“Don’t give up on her, Persephone, she apparently doesn’t hate wæres anymore. If that can change, anything can change.”

“She’s trying to quit smoking, too.”

“No way!”

Eris was trying to be chummy, as if we were merely catching up after a few weeks of absence. It irritated me and I let her see the proof.

She opened the black door and hit the light switch. The inside was lined with shelves and the kind of do-it-yourself cabinetry that usually left folks wondering if the instructions lost something important in the translation. “Supposed to be a pantry,” she said. “But we don’t eat that much so everything stores in the kitchen.”

“We?” I asked.

She spun around, cheeks flushing. “Don’t worry, he’s at work.”

Of course she had a man living here. “When will he be back?”

Her fists shoved into her pockets. “He’s a trucker. He’ll be gone until midweek.”

I held the list out to her. “Get your supplies.”

As Eris moved about the room, opening the plywood cabinets, I took note of how organized she was. She collected the candles first, grouped them in a Baggie, then gathered the various stones.

Zhan drew my attention as she stepped up behind me and whispered, “All clear.” I nodded and Zhan took a seat at the table facing the door.

When I turned back, my mother was holding a blade, unsheathed.

She wasn’t threatening me with it, merely inspecting the naked blade. It was tarnished; real silver. She put it back and brought out another, checked it. Gleaming stainless steel with a black handle. Nodding to herself, she placed it with the other items.

In that moment I realized that if she’d meant me harm, she had weapons in this room to do so. If she’d meant Johnny harm she could have used the silver blade in the ritual.

I wondered what I would have done if deep desperation claimed me and left me with one chance to make a new life for myself … and all I had to do was ruin the life of one other person.

I’d staked Menessos in desperation. It didn’t just ruin his life, it robbed him of it. The whole thing had been his idea. He had willingly submitted to it. Still, I’d felt plenty guilty over it.

And here was the one chance for my mother to absolve herself of her guilt. As an extra bonus, in doing so, she could prove her good intentions and try to gain a place in my life.

We were different enough that the places where we drew the line and declared our limits were miles apart … but we were alike in other ways. In her place, wouldn’t I do everything I could to fix this mess?

I thought of Amenemhab. Sometimes only forgiveness will do.

I swallowed. Maybe.

Where to begin. Baby step. “Can I help?” I asked.

Her surprise was evident, but it changed into a warm smile meant for me, the one that as a child I’d tried so hard to earn. “I’d like that.” She pointed to a box. “You can put this stuff in there.”

I began filling the box.

She brought out the herbs. Some were already ground and some were in bulk form. She hefted a marble mortar and pestle to the table and ground the cinnamon and rosemary together. “Are you going to do this in one of the tattoo rooms?”

“I’d rather do it up here. I have an old massage therapist’s table. We can move the furniture out of the way and have more room, and ensured privacy. Some of the artists have keys to the shop.”

Once she was satisfied with the herb blend, she drew an equal-armed cross in the air over it, murmuring. Next, she dumped the mixture into a snack-size plastic bag and labeled it before passing it to me. She wiped out the mortar and combined the eucalyptus and myrrh next. I labeled the next Baggie while she worked.

“I often wondered if Nana taught you magic like she taught me,” she said, her voice a little thick. “When I saw you on the news I knew she had. I am so proud of you.” She seemed quite calm, immersed in the grinding of herbs.

“Most mothers wouldn’t be.”

“Well, we both know I’m not like most.” Those syllables were laced with guilt. “But an Erus Veneficus … vampires don’t want a lightweight. You have to be powerful to gain their consideration, and a Quarter Lord is even more demanding. It’s no light honor.”

“WEC considers it selling out.”

“Of course they do.” She repeated the gesture, murmuring over the mortar’s contents, then emptied them into the plastic pouch I’d prepared, and took up the cloth to wipe it out for the next batch. “They have to stigmatize it. They’re losing their best and brightest to a more glamorous world.”

My heart was warming. What child doesn’t want to hear that her parent thinks she’s among the best and brightest?

After sealing and labeling the third Baggie, I said, “WEC is trying to update the image of the covens. Giving favor to the telegenic priestesses with marketing skills, appointing approved witches to the position of ‘spokeswoman’ in places of high media coverage.”

“Doesn’t surprise me at all.” She was now pulverizing dried basil leaves and allspice.

“Do you belong to a coven?”

“No. Not in a long, long time. I prefer being a solitary.”

Another thing in the “alike” column.

I thought back to the night the slate had given me the name Arcanum. It could have simply given me the name, but instead it gave me a reading, one that I now saw was an explanation. Nana had defined the problem: Someone wanted what was best for them and all my plans had to change. True. She left me and my childhood was nothing like normal. Factors: Poor judgment and chance encounters. True again, according to her account of the events. Advice: Think twice before taking action and masculine forces. Okay. I’m trying. Result: My take on it was “a spiritual, emotional, or material need.” Nana’s version was to “seek good advice.” I’ve talked to Amenemhab, but I don’t know if I can forgive her. She still hasn’t said she’s sorry or asked me to forgive her. All I can do is give her the chance to absolve herself.

By the time we had all the items gathered and moved into the living room, Zhan conveyed utter boredom.

“I’m going to get that table,” Eris said, stepping out of sight.

Zhan gave me a single nod to indicate that was okay. “No way out back there.”

I retrieved the satellite phone out of the inner pocket of my borrowed jacket, hit the speed dial I’d assigned Johnny, and asked him to double-check the front door lock, turn out the lights in the shop, and join us upstairs. In moments Eris returned as Lance and the wæres clamored up the metal stairs and came in. Johnny entered last, trailing Nana. I gave him a grateful nod; he knew she wasn’t as steady on the stairs anymore.

After sharing the room-rearranging plan, the wæres moved everything in minutes. “You should go home,” I said to the artist.

Lance shook his head. “I’m not leaving. Without her, AIE would fall apart.”

“Then sit over there.” Johnny pointed to the far corner of the couch. “Be silent and stay out of the way.” The couches were now both tucked against the wall with the short side of the rustic coffee table separating them.

Eris moved the area rug to be centered in the open space, then placed her folded massage table and set it up. “The other wæres will have to leave soon,” she said.

Johnny gave Todd and Kirk the go ahead. Kirk clasped Johnny’s forearm. He said, “As agreed,” then asked Zhan, “I didn’t get a good view of your pistol. You packin’ a ladies’ .28, or was that a .38 you put to my head?”

“It’s a .44.”

“Oooo. That really kicks.”

“Three hundred and ten foot-pounds of energy.”

He regarded her appreciatively, then pointed at Johnny. “You know your stuff, China Girl. It’d be a shame to kill you, but if anything happens to him … you won’t see me when I come for you.”

“The Domn Lup’s not my charge.”

“Consider it a mandate. I carried your master to dark safety twice in one morning. You owe me this.”

“Tell me, Wolfman Wang, are you saying you’re a team player?”

Kirk glanced in my direction, then back to Zhan. “If my Domn Lup wishes, it is so. Can you say the same?”

“I can,” she said with conviction.

Kirk gave Zhan a wink and exited.

Johnny and I shared a look that was multifaceted in its understanding. We’d both been shown the loyalty of our people. They’d confirmed that they could extend that allegiance to others; no light commitment considering how the various “nonsters” disliked and distrusted each other. Knowing their trust in us could bridge that rift felt good, if terribly heavy. Good, because there was unending hope in that. And terribly heavy because too many good people had already died.

Watching Zhan, I repeated a silent prayer to Hecate that such loyalty wasn’t rewarded with death.

My somber moment was shattered as Eris said cheerfully, “All right. Let’s get this party started.”