Linda Robertson - Arcane Circle

“I don’t answer to you.”

“Respectfully, I remind you that you have not been confirmed by the Rege. Even when that occurs, the authority you wield is not without limits.”

“I revealed myself to you. You’re obligated to acknowledge me as Domn Lup.”

“True. But my first obligation is to the Zvonul. Until the Rege offers you his acknowledgment, his orders remain supreme. While your confirmation is yet pending, I am under his orders to secure this den and this area. And he expects you to comply.”

“If I don’t?”

“He will not come. Your confirmation will become … unlikely.”

Johnny considered for a moment, then answered, “As I told you, she was about to bestow these men with a reward.”

“What manner of reward?”

“She can perform a spell that amplifies moonlight. Amplifies it enough to force them to fully transform.”

“That’s impossible!” A fresh spill of blood ran from his cut lip as he spoke, but he ignored it and continued. “The moon is waning. Less than half her face shows.”

“Three of my friends have already experienced this spell and have been enhanced for it. They now retain their man-minds during their transformation with the full moon. It is a gift I intend to give these men for their service.”

I heard the briefest hesitation before the word “friends.” Erik hadn’t exactly been happy with Johnny since he learned that Johnny could transform at will. I didn’t think it was jealousy, but it was clear that the Domn Lup would have lofty responsibilities to attend to, and that it would cut into band time. I hadn’t known their very friendship might be at stake.

Gregor’s gaze rapidly bounced back and forth as if he was thinking fast. When his jaw flexed, I knew it was a bad sign. “No,” he said.

“No?” Johnny echoed.

“I cannot allow this to proceed.” He spoke not to Johnny but to the men. “This spell must be canceled.” He spat the word “spell.”

Johnny leaned across the table. “Your job doesn’t give you authority here.”

Kirk joined us then, and made knuckle-popping fists as he took his place. The rest of the local pack shifted into ready stances, preparing should this become a fight.

Gregor relaxed into his seat. “The Rege arrives tomorrow. I cannot allow anything to transpire here that may be the first stage of a strike at my lord.”

“You can’t seriously think—”

“The witches have long threatened preemptive attacks on wærewolves. As impossible as your claim is, for security purposes, I refuse to allow her to even attempt it.”

“It’s not up to you, Greg. ” Johnny stood and glowered down at Gregor. “These men decide for themselves!”

Immediately, Gregor bowed his head and said, “I yield to your suggestion. Let us ask your men to decide for themselves. Surely you would not have them go through with this spell if they wish to wait until the Rege has returned to Romania? We would, of course, consider such a decision to defer your own plans as a high act of respect in favor of the wishes of the Zvonul.”

Gregor’s smooth. He’d just gotten his way while acquiescing to Johnny’s demands, reminding everyone here that the Zvonul had all the clout, and hinting that the men should vote to wait so that their leader could avoid any discredit.

Gregor called out, “If you vote to delay this spell until the Rege has gone, let it be known by raising your right arm.”

Slowly, every arm rose.

“And you, witch, do you agree to wait, or do you protest this notion?”

I dropped my crossed arms and stepped into the edge of the illuminated area. “I will reward these men whenever it pleases their Domn Lup and them.”

“Persephone?”

It was one of the men with Gregor who called my name, the not-brawny one with a briefcase. He was at the far end of the table, and he stood so the wære-bulk between him and Gregor no longer blocked his view of me.

“Chris? Christopher LaCroix?”

“Yeah.” He smiled, then, with everyone staring at us, the moment soured into awkwardness. “Yeah,” he repeated, quieter, as if he wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

Chris was the younger brother of the one serious boyfriend I’d ever had, my college sweetheart, Michael La-Croix. Chris had been inadvertently turned wærewolf by a girlfriend he was trying to kennel. Word got around and Chris was threatened on campus by some wære-hating jocks. It led to a wære coalition forming and even some non-wære’s like me joined. Michael, who waffled between being a private investigator, a personal trainer, and a kung-fu master (his nickname then was Pi-fu), instructed a training series for self-defense. They had access to one of the campus’s smaller gymnasiums at a certain time every week. He taught wære’s methods that took their superior strength into consideration and kept them from hurting mere humans, even if those mere humans were instigating an attack.

The demand for this training had been more than any of them had expected. When Michael opened a pay-for-training center in a nearby town—a business venture he’d not even hinted about to me—I’d told him it bothered me that he would do this behind my back. I just wanted to be kept in the loop. He’d said he didn’t have to “clear” anything with me and he dumped me. I hadn’t seen either of them since. Until now.

Breaking the awkward silence, Chris offered a polite “How’ve you been?”

“Good. You?”

Gregor cut in. “There’s obviously no further need for you to be here, witch,” he said pointedly to me. “Don’t let us keep you any longer.”

Not really passive-aggressive, just aggressive.

Johnny gestured to Kirk. “See the witch to the University Inn.”

At that, I knew three things for certain. One, he wasn’t going to let on about our relationship more than necessary to these Omori; two, he wasn’t coming home with me; and three, it was highly unlikely that I’d have another chance to perform this spell before the Rege arrived. Could Johnny repeat another man-to-wolf transformation without what he would have gained from the spell?

Maxine said, begrudgingly, that the pierogies were fabulous. When she asked how I was done so quickly, I told her some unforeseen other pack business sprang up and we’d rescheduled. If she was suspicious that there was more to it than that, she didn’t show it outwardly. I didn’t want to talk about it and she was keen enough not to need it spelled out for her.

In the car, I switched the radio to WMMS. I was hoping to crank up some rock ’n’ roll, but the morning show’s aftermath crew was blathering on. So I found WKDD out of Akron and gave the sound system a workout.

My thoughts ran to Johnny. And worry.

His second-in-command, Todd, resented him. Todd wanted to be dirija in the worst way, and while that would happen once Johnny was confirmed as the Domn Lup, in the meantime, Todd had to wait and he had to take orders from Johnny.

And then there was Cammi, who was a power-hungry bitch. She’d used her looks to work those men over, and fast. I hoped that the Omori’s threat held, that Johnny wouldn’t ever have to hear her speak to him again, but she was cunning. She’d use her feminine wiles to influence others. The threat she represented wasn’t gone.

He struggled at every step, and while I had no doubt he could handle it, the fact that he literally had to fight for his position saddened me. It was barbaric. Bottom line, I didn’t want Johnny to lose the man he was now in the process.

It occurred to me his problems weren’t unlike mine. The responsibilities of my role were changing me. Months ago I couldn’t have imagined going into a vampire haven, let alone having my own apartment inside one. I couldn’t have imagined feeding a vampire, much less being doubly bound to one.