Linda Robertson - Arcane Circle

Zhan dropped into a crouch, keeping her aim true. “Get down,” she shouted to the rest of us. We obeyed; the shots continued outside.

Johnny’s yell dwindled to a groan, then he collapsed against the table, his arms flopping over the edge. Though he was breathing, he didn’t move.

I crawled forward.

Nana grabbed my arm firmly, holding me back. “Don’t break the circle.”

Amid the shots and shouts that were continuing outside, one rattled the door and the knob flopped. Then the door burst open, ripping from its hinges and crashing into the chair Zhan had been sitting in. The chair flipped forward. One of the legs cracked on her forehead. Zhan went limp.

The Rege lurched through the entryway—it was his shoulder that had broken the door. He held a gun. His eyes locked on Johnny and he took aim.

“No!” I shouted, calling energy from the ley.

I heard movement to the side behind me.

The Rege got off two shots before the power of the ley enveloped him, but when he was wrapped in that dangerous energy, it required his full attention. The barrier around him, his own shields, blocked the magic. The barrel of his gun shifted toward me. My fists clenched, rising up before me as if I dared fight him, but in truth, I was squeezing that ley power down, crushing him with its weight, until his shields were pulverized and every pore opened as if his skin was perforated with tiny funnels.

Weight pressed down on my shoulders as the Lustrata’s mantle appeared on me, glowing soft white light.

I could never guess how many women he had ever raped, abused, and broken. But I was thinking of them, his faceless victims as I rammed ley power into him, violating his body with it.

His eyes bulged. His hands shook like he had palsy. “No!”

Ley line power lifted him into the air and his body warped, sprouting hair and teeth.

I wasn’t just stopping him. The Lustrata was administering justice. I was doing what I never wanted to do to any wærewolf.

With a gasp, I loosed my fists, dropped the power, and stepped back. My mantle faded and disappeared. The creature dropped to the floor in a tangle of misshapen limbs, snarling and writhing. It flopped and groped, reaching toward my sentinel.

I pitched forward. “Zhan!”

At her name, she stirred. Seeing the inhuman thing so near her, she reacted swiftly. Before I could cross the room, she put four rounds into the thing’s head. She pulled the trigger three more times before she realized she’d spent her bullets. I dropped to my knees at her side.

The sudden silence—inside and out—was deafening.

The Rege fired two shots at Johnny, who lay helpless.

I didn’t want to look.

But I had to see. Slowly, my numb body responded. I saw a splash of red on Johnny’s face. My heart sank into my stomach.

Then Lance surged forward, screaming, “Mom!”

Nana grabbed Lance before he could break the circle.

Eris moaned. “Fuck that hurts. Shit, shit, shit.” Panic elevated her voice with each word. Behind me, Zhan got to her feet. I glanced at her. A trickle of blood ran down her face and her forehead was bruising. She checked the door even as she reloaded her gun.

Ignoring the mess that had been the Rege, I focused on the circle. My mother was bleeding, scraping her heels over the floor as she shouted another f-bomb.

And I found myself staring at Lance, who was trying to remove Nana’s grip from his arm. “Young man, get a hold of yourself,” she was saying.

Mom. He’d shouted “mom.” Shouted it at my mother.

The world swayed. My knees hit the floor.

Johnny may be dead. My mother’s been shot. And I have a brother. A brother she kept. And raised. And didn’t leave.

The next minutes were a blur. I was completely numb until Nana’s voice reached me. “Persephone, Johnny is not hurt.”

My mind snapped back into working and I clamored to my feet.

“Eris blocked the shots,” she added.

“We have to call an ambulance,” Lance pleaded, cheeks wet with tears.

“Don’t break the circle,” Eris said, gritting her teeth.

“Mom, no …”

At that, Nana let go of him, finally catching on to what had torn through me like a hurricane.

Eris drew on the ley line—I felt the surge as she sucked power into herself. Even so, with great difficulty and much yelping, she twisted herself around and reached into the box with her left hand rifling around and coming up with the dagger. She clamped the sheath in her teeth and drew the blade. After spitting the sheath to the floor, she stabbed the black-handled dagger into the air. “Cut now the door, without breaking my circle.” She dropped the dagger. “Persephone. You have to finish.”

“You need medical attention!” Lance begged.

Zhan left the doorway, sliding her gun into her shoulder holster. “I have medic training. Let me in.”

Nana jerked on Lance’s arm. “Do you have an emergency kit?”

He blinked, seemingly as numb as I had been a moment ago. “Downstairs,” he said. “In the shop.”

“Go get it,” she said.

He grabbed keys from a peg by the door, then stepped back as Kirk and Todd swarmed in with Gregor and two other Omori, all of whom had their wrists bound with zip-ties. Gregor dropped to his knees beside the grisly mess on the floor, saw a swollen hand with an identifying pair of rings. “The Rege! What have you done?”

Lance took to the stairs.

To shut Gregor up, Kirk whacked his head with the butt of a pistol.

“Is the Domn Lup—” Kirk’s words stalled as he saw the same splash of blood that had distressed me.

I stepped through the door my mother had cut in her circle, feeling the static kiss of power as I entered. My hands roved all over Johnny, smearing blood but finding no wound. “He’s unconscious but unhurt,” I confirmed.

“Magic,” one of the Omori cried, realizing what was happening on this side of the room.

“The energies are contained within the circle. For now.” But we’d have to stir some more to finish this.

“The police are coming,” Kirk said. “What do you want us to do?”

The wail of sirens was getting close. Damn it, we have a spell going on, a dead half-formed wære, and—

“This magic must not be stopped,” I said. “Free the Omori and tell the—”

“What?” Kirk demanded.

I affixed the Omori wæres with as threatening a countenance as I could muster. “Your Rege is dead. All you have is your Domn Lup. Swear to me that you will go along with this, or I’ll half-form you and have you shot where you are.” I hope they believe me. I don’t know that I could harm anyone being submissive.

Gregor’s wide, despairing eyes shut. His mouth twisted in grief and fear. “And the witch strikes… .” he growled.

I moved as close to him as I could without breaking the circle. “If you prefer to die rather than see the new age your Domn Lup will usher in, so be it. I will give you that honor.”

He looked up, eyes widening.

“But if you have any shred of hope inside of you, any desire to live in a better world, swear your allegiance now.”

Gregor bowed his head. “I shall.” He fixed his comrades with his stare. “And so shall you.” They bowed their heads.

“Swear it,” I demanded.

“On Ninurta’s Hallowed Grave,” Todd clarified.

Gregor lifted his chin. “On Ninurta’s Hallowed Grave, I swear my compliance for now and my loyalty to the Domn Lup.”

I breathed deep, sighed it out. “Tell the police this stranger attacked and broke in during the ritual, got too close, and it caused a transformation. He had to be put down. That’s what the shooting was about.”