Linda Robertson - Hallowed Circle

Calling up that sadistic inner teenager, I threw a jolt of my own into my palm, reached out, and grabbed Hunter's hand with that same amount of high school glee.

Nothing happened.

She squinted again. The corner of my mouth crooked up. The nothing that happened meant we were even. Or, at least, that my new stain nullified her jolt.

The phone buzzed and the receptionist answered with, "Yes?"

"I didn't catch your name," Hunter Hopewell said, releasing my hand.

"I didn't drop it."

The receptionist placed the receiver in its cradle and turned her seat toward us. "Lydia will see you now."

Hunter moved to go around the desk.

"Oh, not you, Ms. Hopewell. I meant Ms. Alcmedi."

That the girl knew my name and pronounced it correctly surprised me. I thanked her and then it hit me where I knew her from. "Mandy, right? From Vivian's coffee shop in Cleveland?"

A sheepish smile flashed across her round face and disappeared.

"You changed your hair." It had been an indistinct pale brown.

She petted the unhealthy length of platinum blond hair stretching over her shoulder. "Yeah. Vivian's idea."

I wondered if Vivian helped her make any other bad choices. Poor girl. A compliment should've sprung to mind, but it just didn't. The overprocessed frizz she was stuck with couldn't flatter anyone and I couldn't just lie.

She appeared as if she might cry. "Are you okay?" I asked.

"I just miss her so much."

"Oh." What was I supposed to say? If I tried to console Mandy after I'd helped the vampire get Vivian, the words would taste ashy.

"I've been Vivian's intern-slash-protege for almost two years. You'd think that, of all people, she'd give me a hint before she split." She rolled her eyes again even as she wiped at the corners. At least someone had thought well of Vivian. "I didn't think you'd remember me," she said.

I did. The coffee she'd made me had been terrible. Of course that had been the day I found out about Lorrie's murder, so maybe it was my mood souring my palate more than the beverage. Shrugging, I said, "I didn't at first. The new color threw me. I'm surprised you knew me."

"Vivian didn't often talk to people in her office at the shop…" Mandy paused. "How's the kid?"

"Adjusting well," I said and started around the desk. "Thanks for asking."

"I was here first," Hunter protested.

"Yeah, I know," Mandy said through gritting teeth. "You've been here exactly thirty-three minutes and" — she glanced at the wall clock—"fourteen seconds."

"So the local contender is getting preferential treatment already," Hunter declared. "Why do you people bother having an Eximium if you're just going to hand it to your local contestant?"

From the office doorway, I looked over my shoulder at her quizzically.

She said, "I was here first and I should be seen first."

"Wah. Get over it," Mandy said.

Hunter made a derisive sound and ratcheted her chin up.

"You know," I said to Hunter, "a high priestess ought to know the difference between pride and conceit." I shut Lydia's door.

Sitting meekly in an oversize chair behind a massive mahogany desk, Lydia gave the impression of frailty but I knew better. She stood to greet me. Her usual summertime gingham dress had been replaced with a white turtleneck under a wide-collared forest green sweater, paired with a long, tan corduroy skirt. It was obvious the changing season had left her cold.

After a quick hug, I sank into the seat across from her and asked, "Are they all like that?"

"No, thank the Goddess, but she is the worst."

"Good."

"No, Seph. Actually, that's bad."

"Why?"

"Because, dear, she'll take the Eximium and become high priestess… with you opting out of it and all."

A hard frown tightened my face. I suspected I was about to be inveigled. I'd have bet that she knew I'd protest the nomination. She likely waited to call me about it until Hunter walked in the door, knowing that I'd rush down to decline. Meanwhile, Lydia had made Hunter wait so she'd be irritated and our paths could cross on those exact terms because then I'd be more motivated to concede and be in the Eximium. Damned sneaky old witch.

"What?" she demanded, gauging my hard expression. "Don't tell me you didn't instantly size her up and peg her for what she is."

"Lydia."

"Jolted you, didn't she?"

"She tried."

"I knew it!" Lydia's expression brightened considerably and she smacked the desktop. "Got nowhere with you, did she?" She tapped gnarled fingers on the desk. "She's jolted everyone in this office, except poor little Mandy. Even reached across the desk trying to shake Mandy's hand, but Mandy ignored her. She just kept typing and said, 'If you want to impress me, stick both of your thumbs up your ass and walk on your elbows. " Lydia chuckled. "She can be so bland, that girl, then she spouts something like that!"

When I stopped laughing, the moment sobered and I said, "Seemed like Mandy was going to cry there for a moment."

Lydia sighed. "She's lost without Vivian." Leaning closer, she put one arm up on the desk, cupped her mouth with a hand, and whispered, "She's moody too. Probably bleeding." Leaning back, she went on at normal volume, "Still, if Hunter couldn't jolt you, that just confirms to me that you need to be in this competition!"

I couldn't tell her the reason I nullified her jolt was more likely due to the vampire stain I now carried. "This is all very… I don't know. But—"

"I know, I know. You're here to opt out." She pulled open a drawer and began digging around. "Vivian was so organized and in a week I've managed to undo it all. Poor Mandy is so aggravated with me." Her delicate digging turned into rough rummaging. "Where is that form?"

"Form?"

Lydia nodded, still searching in the drawer.

"Why do I have to fill out a form? I didn't fill one out to be nominated."

"You don't fill it out. I do. The Elders require formal notification if they have to make the local choice themselves."

"I don't understand coven politics."

"Of course not; you're a solitary." She shut the drawer and opened another. "I had it a second ago…"

"Why can't you just pick someone else?"

"Not allowed. If my choice refuses, then the Elders come in a few days early to evaluate everyone from the coven and nominate one of them." She fixed me with an expression of annoyance. "A waste of time, to be sure." She resumed hunting through the newly opened drawer. "Vivian filled the coven with influential people who would run it like a country club, where exclusivity is more important than spirituality. The rest of us were pushed aside and belittled. Some moved away, some became solitary. Some have their own covens now, though not WEC endorsed."

"The Elders will surely include them in the evaluations. I mean, one of them will be more suitable, right?"

Lydia shut the drawer forcefully. "I know what I'm doing. And I know that with you out, Hunter will take the Eximium. She will be the high priestess. She strikes me as the type who will use the exposure to further inflate her ego."

"Lydia, I don't want the coven left to further internal disintegration. I can see this means a lot to you and I do want to help, but I have enough responsibilities. I've had a lot thrust upon me recently. Other than Beverley, I have to take care of my Nana now and—"

"Demeter?"

"Yes, she—" I started to go on but she cut me off again.

"I thought she was in a home?"

"They kicked her out. I'm sure her pushy attitude and nicotine cravings had nothing to do with it."

Lydia caught my sarcasm. "Oh, of course not."

"Wait—you know my Nana?"

"I used to. A long time ago, dear. A very long time ago." She smiled fondly as if at a good memory. "Plucky as ever, is she?"