Hallowed Circle (37 page)

“If you’ve seen them, then you know the singer is
hot
.” She overemphasized the
T
. “They were here setting up and doing sound check earlier and, wow.” Hunter leaned closer. “Lydia insisted they were loud and filthy, but after the radio stations started announcing the band was playing here tonight, the online ticket sales zoomed. We’re going to be packed!” She studied the area behind us. “I should’ve had more tables.”

To either side of the long entry were tables, each with black cloth, a wisp of webbing glowing under the blacklights, and a raised circle with black candles and gourds over purple, red, and orange mums.

The tables were mostly filled already. Costumed people—young and old—laughed and talked over their bev
erages. There was free punch and a cash bar had been stationed in front of the west-side doors.

The media crews were set up on the catwalk over the north entry, cameras aimed at the stage. “Media coverage, radio, online ticket sales. You’re going to make this work, Hunter. Congratulations.” I couldn’t have come up with all these ideas.

“My predecessor had a fabulous list of contacts,” she said as the line moved again. “She may have flaked out and disappeared, but she was organized.”

I could see how that would be like a roadmap to success for someone with Hunter’s skills. All I knew about her test for dealing with a threat from the vampires was that, as the voting went afterward, I’d won that round. Eventually she would face real adversity—something more than scheduling a band or a last-minute caterer. Then we—the coven members and solitaries—would see what Hunter was really made of. When the time came, I felt certain we’d all be proud of her. “I’m glad the locals are coming back. That’s very encouraging.”

“How do you like your new phone?” she asked.

I knew she meant the protrepticus, but in the photo line where I wouldn’t know coven members from the public at large, such things should not be discussed. I replied cryptically, “I think I have a few bugs to work out.”

“Connectivity problems?” she asked.

“It connects to the network all right, just I’m not certain I got the right calling features.”

“I hear you.”

The frustration in her tone made me feel better about my situation. “That new compact of yours …”

She thought about it and cocked her head as she answered, “I can’t begin to tell you how much such a little thing has come to mean to me.”

“It’s special to you, then?” I wasn’t quite getting her meaning.

“Yes. Like an heirloom already. I feel a weighty responsibility about tending it, not physical, mind you. Just mentally.”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

After we took pictures, Hunter was off to meet and greet others. I found Lydia sitting with a couple dressed as Bo Peep and a sheep at one of the tables. They were an older couple, and it made their matching theme costumes cute. But it made me glad I didn’t have to match my costume with anyone.
Lydia was dressed in a flannel nightgown and robe, complete with sleeping bonnet. She even had the small wire-rimmed glasses to suit her character. “Is Grandma still looking for Red Riding Hood?” I asked.

“Who’s asking?”

“Persephone.”

“With your tummy bared! Lord and Lady, I’d never have guessed!” She introduced me to the couple and then made polite excuses that we had business to attend to. As we strolled away she said, “I’m more comfortable tonight in this costume than I have been all week.” She even had house slippers on. “And I can go home and go straight to bed.”

“There is that,” I replied.

“You, on the other hand …” She gestured at me.

“Oh, that reminds me—I want you to loosen this bodice in the back a little. I had to put it on alone and got it too tight.”

“Can you breathe?”

“Yeah.”

“Then it’s not too tight. Besides, you’re young enough to enjoy the interest.”

“But—”

“What superhero are you, anyway?”

“I thought it was pirate-y.”

She gave me the once-over again as we walked. “You were right. About that and about Hunter. I am so pleased I could burst.”

“I wouldn’t have done this well, Lydia.”

She gripped my arm, stopping our strolling. “You have other commitments. If you wanted this like she did, you’d have done
better
.”

I was about to reply, when I felt something. The fine resonance was occurring again, rising up my spine.

Menessos was here.

Turning to face the entryway, I waited only a moment before he entered the Covenstead and stepped down the foggy walkway. He was dressed as a king, in a copper velvet shirt with a black velvet cape and pants. The crown upon his head was adorned with topaz and onyx, and Goddess help me, it was like Arthur strode into the hall.

I couldn’t breathe. My eyes felt dry and refused to blink. My body wouldn’t move, not even to flee. The vibrant sensation had wended all through me and was now beginning to converge into the heat of desire. I began to crave his touch.

And then I realized our costumes matched.

I should have known he’d planned it this way.

Lydia followed my gaze and put it together. “He sent you this costume?”

“Most of it, yes.” Denying it would have been childish.

She squeezed my arm. “I am so sorry! If I hadn’t insisted you participate in the Eximium, he’d never have met you and you wouldn’t have to bear his notice now.”

“Lydia, it’s all right. I just thought—”

“He’s a vampire. A dangerous one!”

“I know. Trust me, it’s under control.” I moved away.

She didn’t release my arm. “He’ll let you think it is until it’s too late.”

“Thank you for caring about me, Lydia.” I let her see the truth of that statement in my heartfelt smile. It made her grip weaken, disappear. She was surely putting it together, knowing that I had a protrepticus, a connection to Xerxadrea, and that Xerxadrea had a former connection to Menessos. It was the wrong assumption, but based on what she knew, it was a good one that should satisfy her. “I have some work to do while I’m here. I’m sure you understand. …”

“Yes. I do now.” She didn’t seem to like it. “Take care with your work, Persephone.”

“I will. Thank you.”

When I left her and approached Menessos, Goliath, dressed as a knight in armor that I’d have bet was real and heavy, had joined him. Menessos offered his hand to me as I neared. “No skirt?” He sounded disappointed.

“I don’t much care for them.” I accepted his warm hand. It surprised me; I expected it to be cool or cold. “Thank you for the bodice and jewelry.”

His eyes were locked on my cleavage. “You lend credibility to the theory of euhemerism.”

It meant something about the belief that ancient heroes were deified mortals. “Bombastic as ever, Menessos. No mask for yourself ?” I asked, reaching to take the mask from my own face. Few others were wearing them.

“Leave it,” he said abruptly.

“Why?”

“Because I like it very much.” He slipped my hand onto his arm and walked slowly away with me. “Grant me this one indulgence, please?”

“You’re not wearing one. Goliath’s not.”

“True.” He didn’t elaborate.

“That’s a small response. Monosyllabic, even.”

“Concupiscence distracts me.”

His fancy way of saying he lusted for me reminded me that he was the one with the stain, now. It was his libido that should be amped. Mine was more than libido, though. I felt …
powerful
in his presence. Like my ego was sexually aroused.

No wonder vampires were so egotistical. In a room full of their stained underlings, they’d feel a rush of invulnerability and confidence. I would have to keep this in mind and not let it rule me.

Time to see who knew what was actually going on. I halted the promenade and pulled away. “Goliath, would you get me a drink, please?”

He glared at me and made no move to do as I asked.

“Bottled water.” I did not resign, but waited expectantly.

Menessos whispered, “Goliath.”

The knight turned with a sneer. Goliath probably thought I was testing my favor with his master, and for him to have to fetch me a drink would gall him. He didn’t realize
I
was
the master. But Menessos did. And now Menessos knew that I knew.

We spent a long moment, the vampire and I, standing in the Covenstead staring at each other, gauging each other. I kept my shoulders square and my head high as if to say that I would not be manipulated by him.

The protrepticus rang. Thankfully, it was the ringing sound of an old telephone again.

I was not about to answer it here, in front of Menessos—Samson D. Kline’s murderer—and certainly not with the chance of Goliath returning.

“Aren’t you going to answer?” Menessos asked.

“No.”

Just then, I caught movement on the stage. Johnny was removing guitars from cases and putting them in stands. He hadn’t passed us, so the band must have access through the south doors.

Hunter stood before the stage, chatting with him. When he finished placing his instruments, he sat on the stage left steps. I watched them talk and trade polite smiles. Hunter moved closer. She put her hand on his knee for an instant as she spoke, then removed it. Flirtatious prep-move.

“Interesting,” Menessos said. “Someone’s flirting with your wolf, and your pulse hasn’t changed at all.”

Still watching the stage, Hunter did it again, but this time her hand lingered.

Johnny reached toward her hand and her smile broadened. That is, until he carefully removed her hand and placed it on the stage beside him.

“Excuse me,” I said to Menessos.

Hunter had taken the rejection well but found a reason to be on her way as I started crossing the Covenstead. Johnny walked to the front of the stage and turned to check the backdrop and the scene from an audience viewpoint. His arms were crossed over his chest.

Pausing beside him I said, “You patch things with Erik?”

“Theo checked on the contract. You were right.”

“If it’s what you guys want …”

“He’s not sure now that he knows the vampire connection. Feral’s not sure either.”

“What do
you
want?”

He turned and took a good look at me as if he hadn’t realized I was in costume until then. “Wow.” His awareness lingered in my chest area too. “More of what I already had.”

My cheeks flushed. “Would you settle for a dozen or so of your remaining kisses?”

“Wanna see my tour bus, little girl?”

After glancing at the front of his pants, I said, “Didn’t I already take a ride on your bus?”

He laughed, low and hungrily. “Well, the one parked out back is almost as big.”

“Almost?” I laughed.

He grabbed my hand and led me around the stage to the south doors and out. “I stopped at the Rock Hall and retrieved your blazer.”

“You did?”

It wasn’t a bus, but a box truck that sat with the back open like a black, gaping mouth. “That’s what a good boyfriend would do, isn’t it?”

“B-boyfriend?”

The Covenstead door clanged shut behind us, and he grabbed me into an embrace. “Yeah,” he whispered. His hand was hot on the back of my neck as he held me and kissed me with an intense passion. I felt as if I were melting. When he finally broke away he said casually, “You know, ma’am, I’m eager for the position and I think I’m very qualified to do a satisfactory job.”

“Yeah,” I said. My semi-molten brain wasn’t up to witty rejoinder.

The night was bright with the just-past-full moon to light it and the air was cool as it swirled around us, lifting the cedar and sage smell of him to my nostrils. My ears gave a little pop like a bubble bursting. It reminded me of Aquula’s bubble in the grove—

The protrepticus rang again.

Johnny broke off. “You got a cell?” he asked, incredulous.

The ringtone wasn’t antique phone this time; it was something else.

“And your ringtone is an old Black Sabbath tune?”

I heard lyrics about fairies wearing boots.

Fairies.
Oh Goddess.

Hearing a muffled scream, I pulled away from Johnny and moved around the box truck. I heard Johnny right behind me.

Beyond the parking lot, in the grass of the Covenstead grounds stood three short, costumed teenagers, and one of them was restraining Beverley, still in her mermaid costume.

They weren’t teens. They were fairies.

The brunette male growled as Beverley struggled against him. She almost slipped away, but his slightly elongated fingers stayed fastened over her mouth and he jerked her roughly against him. I saw that his dark vest glinted with gold embroidery as did his breeches. A large jeweled brooch gleamed against a lacey cravat.