Shattered Circle

had struggled on when Frankie was killed by a drunk driver. She had raised Evan alone for five years. She’d done what needed to be done, her way. He wanted her to be able to die her way, but he had to protect his son. “You will have every bit of medical care that you want. No more, no less.”

Silence.

“Toni?”

“I will hold you to that.”

“I expect nothing else from you.” Another moment passed. “I’m going to send a picture to your phone of the man I’m sending. His name is Gregor.”

“Okay.”

Movement outside caught his attention. “I need to go now, Toni. Call me if you need anything.” He ended the call as he exited the vehicle.

Dr. Geoffrey Lincoln had left the BMW and was coming back toward his truck. What bothered Johnny was the doc wasn’t hurrying.

“Doc?”

He stopped in his tracks. He removed his glasses and began cleaning them on the tail of his shirt.

Johnny’s pace increased. “Doc?”

“I’m sorry, John.”

Johnny’s heartbeat was loud in his ears as he pulled up short in front of Geoffrey, not wanting to believe what he knew was true.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Creepy gazed into my eyes with the kind of adoring sincerity that was meant to make women swoon. I fought against the sensation of free-falling.

“Are you saying you want my increased assistance?” Creepy asked.

“No,” I replied, “I’m saying I want to know by what means it is that you think you can aid me more, so I can consider whether I want that extra assistance or not.”

His voice dropped to a low whisper. “There’s a price for that information.”

I crossed my arms and snorted, frustrated with both the predicament and the sensuality brimming in his voice—which had sunk into a captivating tone, melodic and soothing.

“It is a simple thing I ask for,” he said, “but very valuable.”

“Are you able to tell me what that is, or does knowing what that price is have a price?”

My sarcasm sobered him. His smile faded into an expression of deadly seriousness. His hand pushed my hair away from my shoulder, then rounded the side of my neck. “Let my lips touch yours for one kiss and I will tell you what I can do for you.” He made it sound entirely sexual—which was quite a contrast to the placement of his hand, which only served to remind me how fragile and vulnerable the human neck was.

Additionally, bartering to break down the barriers of intimacy always irritated me.

Heedless of both warning signs, I contemplated kissing him.

He gave my earlobe an affectionate little tug, then his gaze traveled over my face, coming to rest adoringly on my eyes. “I have what you need, Persephone.”

I believed he did.

To find out what he could do that trumped the plan I had in mind, all I had to do was kiss this mysterious being who wasn’t a man, a vampire, or a w?rewolf. He wasn’t anything I could yet identify. He could work sorcery without pulling on a ley line so he was internally powerful, enough so that he could teleport himself. That wasn’t normal.

Maybe the taste of him would give some hint.

I scolded myself soundly. It wasn’t like I’d know. Until a few weeks ago I’d never kissed anyone but a human. I was sure Johnny tasted like Johnny, not like some default w?rewolf flavor, and I doubted all vampires tasted like cinnamon. So Creepy would taste like Creepy.

What flavor would he have?

I wondered what his lips—a bit wide for his face; not too thin, not too thick—would feel like on mine. His dark beard was trimmed short, but it looked soft. It was a very masculine mouth, as if he could command legions with ease. But the sum total of that impression was created by a combination of things.

Like his eyes.

His stance.

He conveyed confidence and authority.

Knowing how out of control my life was becoming, being close to someone with his level of self-assurance was aspirational.

Yeah. That’s what I want. To be in control of my life, not a victim of it.

Sometimes, in a small corner of my heart, I wished someone else was the Lustrata, wished for my simple life back. I didn’t want to be a target anymore.

The w?rewolves in particular seemed to have it in for me. Some in the local pack had personal grudges and resentments. The Rege had tried to kill me, and so had Aurelia. Hell, even Johnny had tried, though he might be the only one who had a legitimate excuse for his actions.

The vampires had made their share of threats, too. Heldridge had it in for me. Eva had tried to poison me. Liyliy had kidnapped me, and when I escaped she decided it was better to shred me with her talons and drown me than to have me unmake that necklace. Mero was determined to deliver me to the Excelsior. That would not be good at all.

They all fear me.

They see me as a danger to them.

How do I become something that those who oppose me would not dare to strike against . . . and yet maintain my “self”?

I’d hesitated longer than I should have. I’d taken a tangent along a side path, meandering in my own thoughts, and hadn’t answered him. Like a little girl lost in the woods, when I came back to myself and realized my mistake, it was too late. The predator was closing in.

My eyes closed. I held my breath.

Creepy’s lips brushed mine.

With his hand at the back of my neck I could not have pulled away, but I didn’t resist. The chaste exploration surprised me. It was just his mouth making contact with mine, barely, then sliding to the left, then the right. It wasn’t even a kiss, really. He was feeling me, caressing me in a way that I’d never been touched before. It was infinitely intimate. It took my breath away.

Literally. What I’d held in my lungs escaped all at once in a quavering sigh.

I felt him smile.

Then his lips pressed against mine.

It was a moment of utter sweetness. I yielded. I kissed him back.

His grip tightened. His mouth pressed harder on mine, so hard it hurt. I mmmm-ed a protest and tried to pull away but his hand held me firm. His beard was rough now, scraping over my skin. I tried to say no, but his tongue filled my mouth—he tasted of raspberry and orange. No, he tasted like a blood orange.

As the seconds ticked away, he grew rougher. Gripping turned into squeezing, fondling into groping. When I heard the seam of my shirt tear, I thrust my hands under his chin and pushed as I turned away. “Stop it!”

He roared in anger and, clutching the back of my neck, spun me around like a dancer. My knees gave and the next thing I knew I was crouched before him on all fours, looking out at the decaying hall around us. His fingers gripped my shoulders but he wasn’t pulling me away from this danger; he was holding me to it. Threads of light sprang from his fingertips and wound down my arms, forcing them to stay straight.

In a raw whisper Creepy said, “I can remove all the uncertainty, Persephone. I can remove the danger and replace it with serenity so deep you’ll wonder how you ever survived without it. Imagine your life without threats,