Linda Robertson - Fatal Circle

Menessos shot me a surprised look.

“Yeah, I told her.” Then I asked Xerxadrea, “Why is it important to reinforce that?”

Though I asked Xerxadrea, Menessos answered. “If we show the world that you serve me, and make even the fairies believe it, they will think I commanded you to kill Cerebrosus and blame me.”

“Okay. Not that I’m not grateful to have them pointing their little fingers at you instead of me, but what difference does that make?”

“To kill any fairy royalty is punishable by torture and death.”

“Torture and death?” Cerebrosus was bound to Menessos. He was a royal. I killed him! “Oh, hell.” My gut went so cold.

“Exactly.”

“Going after you, Persephone, doesn’t give them what they truly want, but they’ve already used you once to put WEC in the middle,” Xerxadrea said. “If we use you, too, then the negotiations will go much easier for the witches.”

“How so?” I didn’t like being used once, let alone willingly signing up for a second go-round.

“What they want is me, truly dead, in order to release them from their bonds,” Menessos said. “They’ll jump on the chance to demand that WEC turn me over to them.”

“And WEC can pressure her to deliver you in order to gain the council’s favor as the Lustrata.” Xerxadrea’s expression was delighted. “This will work.”

“Hold on,” I said to the Eldrenne. “I’m not going to deliver Menessos to fairies who will kill him!” I turned to the vampire. “Hell, Menessos, just let them loose. Sever the binding and let all this be done!”

“If it were that simple, I would have done so already.”

I’d had the option to be unbound from Menessos—and chose not to be. Fear rose up like a hand around my throat. The words croaked out, “Why isn’t it that simple?”

“They are bound in my life, Persephone.”

As I began to feel that there was no way out of this, my panic exploded. “My life was bound to you, initially. Just do what I did—”

“Persephone!” His soft voice calmed me. “You clung to who you are, Persephone. You couldn’t pay that price,” Menessos said. “What makes you think I can ?”

The hammer of realization finally hit. Inverting the binding would simply mean the fairies would sever it by killing Menessos. I was his master, but my ignorance showed just how unready I was to truly fill the role. I struggled to cage my fear and tuck it away somewhere deep.

Menessos gripped my arms, a soothing gesture, sincere and innocent, but my shields were down. At his touch my body resonated and filled with warmth as if syrupy sunshine were pouring into my bones. My soul answered: mine .

“Their deaths would sever—” I didn’t finish the sentence as I realized what that meant. “Aquula.” Menessos nodded solemnly. The mermaid fairy had acted to aid me and she was in love with Menessos. I couldn’t kill her; I couldn’t ask someone else to. Even to keep Menessos alive. My teeth clenched.

“Persephone.”

“No,” I said, resolute. I drew Menessos into my arms wishing I could protect him as easily. “I cannot let them take you from me.”

Menessos savored my embrace triumphantly. I felt as if some piece of me that I’d become accustomed to having absent had just been replaced. We fit together so comfortably—

“I am flattered you are so eager to protect me,” he whispered.

Xerxadrea, who’d been quiet for the last few minutes, interrupted. “Come, Persephone. It is time we went above.”

Menessos slipped out of my arms and returned to the kennel, to resume pretending he was dead. Or maybe it was true sleep he sought. He’d been up all night. This was the schedule he normally kept.

With the cellar door shut, I led Xerxadrea around the house. She whispered, “We have to make a good show of this for my lucusi . I trust you understand your part.”

“I do.”

“He must make you his Erus Veneficus as soon as possible. You must leave this place to convince the fey.” She was speaking and moving hurriedly, as if in an angry huff. “And tell him he must contact the media and have them cover it.”

“Why make it public?”

“It gives us cause to publicly separate ourselves from you.” We started up the porch steps. “Using the media always makes things more convincing.” With a flick of her wrist she sent both of my doors slamming open. “You are henceforth ostracized!” she shouted, and pulled away from me as she entered the house. “Witches! We are leaving.”

The chatter in the house ceased. Johnny’s footsteps sounded in the hall. Nana was on his heels.

“Everyone must sever their ties to you now, Persephone,” Xerxadrea said irritably. “Everyone!”

“But she’s the Lustrata!” Johnny countered, coming to my aid.

“Perhaps,” Xerxadrea snorted. “But no witch of such lofty acclaim would sully herself as an Erus Veneficus!”

She fixed her filmy eyes on me; I shivered and could not speak, even to make a show of defending myself.

“That vampire has a hold on you, a grip crushing tight! I believe you can fight free of it. Because of that, I will hold the Council back for as long as I can to give you time to make that fight. They normally put an EV under the Faded Shroud, but with you claiming to be the Lustrata they will not be easily pacified. My guess is they will call for you to be Bindspoken, child.”

The lucusi were filing out between us, reclaiming their brooms and stepping off the porch.

“Of course, once Menessos is destroyed,” Xerxadrea added, “there will be redemption.”

“You’re afraid, aren’t you, sorceress?” Nana’s defiant, don’t-argue-with-me tone made everyone take notice. “And I know why. Facing the fey—the very creators of your beloved sorcery—you’re sure to lose. That would be too humbling for the likes of you.”

For an instant Xerxadrea smiled; then the smile faded and she didn’t back down. “This must be, Demeter. And well your eyes know it. Even you will separate yourself from her before this is over.”

“If your skills aren’t good enough to keep you from running away at the first sign of difficulty, you’re not worthy to stand in the presence of the Lustrata, let alone stand in her home and partake of her hospitality.” Nana waved her arms as if shooing a bunch of clucking hens. “I’d make you retch up your breakfasts if it wouldn’t make a mess. Out. Out! ”

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.