• • •
Giovanni sat impatiently in the back of the van. The small amount of blood he had sipped from Adam, the driver, had bought time, but it was not enough to sate him.
Liyliy was late and he was hungry.
Then his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it free and connected to the wiretap device on Ailo’s phone. He listened as she left a taunting message for the witch and realized it was Persephone Alcmedi that Ailo had called earlier about the park. But he did not understand what she meant about the child living among the undead forever.
The pieces only started falling into place for him when, moment’s later, Talto made a call to Liyliy.
The news fascinated him. It stirred a desire for control so deep it swept him back in time for a moment, to the days of his true life, when he’d commanded an army. In his mortal days, when men lived and died at his command, he had known great power. Wielding magic, he imagined, must feel like having that supremacy had felt.
He had no magical ability of his own, but he could make grand use of a ward-breaker.
He’d be unstoppable with her in his control.
He wasn’t about to let his enemy possess and direct that kind of limitless resource—but he’d have to strike fast, while Menessos still thought no one knew about the girl’s power.
Adam turned in his seat and tapped on the glass that separated them. “Liyliy is coming, sir.”
“Start the engine. We must return downtown. To the Blood Culture.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
I stood on the lakeshore alone.
Amenemhab had trotted away after I stroked his back for a while. The previous time we talked he’d said that I’d likely have a new totem soon. I didn’t want him to go; I liked him. So, in case this was our last visit, I’d petted him. He was softer than he looked and stroking him was comforting to me. He surely knew I was only delaying what I had to do next, but he let me anyway. He even licked my cheek before he left.
Now, the night sky was star-filled above me. The water remained dark before me. The willow at my back rustled in the breeze.
Inhaling a cleansing breath, I shut my eyes as I grounded and centered myself. Shoulders squared, I visualized Creepy’s face in my mind and said, “I’m ready.”
The wind picked up and the temperature dropped. The lake began to give off an ever-thickening haze that the air moved around in dancing swirls. In a matter of moments, the world grew shrouded in a gray veil of mist.
The fog shifted and I stared at the lake, trying to make out a shape in it. The moisture in the air seemed to hold all sounds close, amplifying my breathing in my own ears. I could hear the lapping of the waves much louder than before, and a soft splashing as if there were a boat on the water. Behind those sounds, a distant thunder was rumbling closer.
Fearing it might rain here and drench me, I stepped forward, waving my arms as if that would part the gray air. Perhaps if I saw a boat I could get on it and get going before I was soaked. However, my efforts revealed nothing. All I managed to accomplish was to get my socks wetter and muddier and sandier.
I stared at my feet and again wished for my shoes. The thunder was getting louder.
When I looked up I caught a momentary glimpse of a black dragon’s head in the mist.
It was gone as quickly as it appeared, but I stepped forward, ankle deep in the lake. “Wait!”
I’d seen dragons here before. They pulled a boat that carried Hecate. She could help me. She was a goddess. She could get me the hell out of here.
I took another step into the water. “Wait!” I called twice more, in case I’d been drowned out by the roaring rumble.
And then it hit me: That rumble was more distinct now . . . like many hooves.
As soon as I thought it, four black steeds thundered out of the mist side by side. Skidding to a stop at the edge of the embankment, they tossed their thick manes and nickered protests. The chariot they pulled was shiny black with a huge screaming skull of silver on the front center.
Creepy stood in the chariot holding the reins with clenched fists. He wore armor that matched the chariot; a crested helmet, bracers, greaves, and a cuirass over his black tunic. Pteruges, feather-like leather strips, hung from the cuirass in black layers, each adorned at the bottom with a silver skull. He raised one finger and gestured. “Come.”
I walked to the back of the chariot and, before stepping up onto it, got an eyeful of the backs of his muscular legs. He indicated I should stand beside him at the front. I obeyed, very aware that my muddy socks left tracks on the chariot floor.
“Hold on.” He tapped the chariot’s upper edge.
I gripped it tight. Good thing; he cracked the reins and the horses leapt into a gallop with enough force they nearly set me on my ass even though I was holding on.
We raced across the field, climbed rolling hills, and delved into shallow valleys. The horses’ hooves kept rhythm while small metal decorations on the harnesses—skulls again—tinkled an accenting sound. Add that to the bumpy nighttime ride and somehow, as the minutes wore on and on, I grew so tired that I curled up at Creepy’s feet and slept.
“Persephone. Open your eyes.”
I roused in the fetal position in the same decaying building I’d started out in.
Creepy stood towering over me. He was in the modern dark suit again. “It is time to decide.”
I sat up, scooting away from him, and in doing so discovered that we were on a jagged-edged circular section of floor about four feet across. The rest of the floor was gone. It felt solid and steady, so I doubted it was hovering as much as it was held up by some support beneath. At least the thought that it was something other than Creepy’s will keeping us from crashing down made me happier.
I posed, sitting, leaning back on my hands with my legs bent in front of me. This hopefully showed him I was comfortable.
His hands slid into his pockets. “Once again, the questions are free.” The words were accommodating, but the tone was tight with irritation.
“I understand that I sought help and ended up with you and am therefore obligated to accept your help. I understand that I can choose to do things my way, or I can accomplish much the same thing another way, one at your discretion.”
“None of that contained an inquiry.”
“Right. Here’s the question.” I held his gaze steadily. “What is the cost for your services if I choose my way, and what is the cost if I choose your way?”
His masklike expression didn’t change a bit. He gazed unwaveringly down at me for several heartbeats, then his focus slid around my body and returned to my face. “I intend to have you, either way.”
My heart sputtered and skipped a beat.
“Willing or unwilling is irrelevant. That is part of my price.”
I swallowed hard enough to hear it and fought against the chill tickling my spine. I had to hold some semblance of power here. My totem had mentioned posturing as well. “Submissive” obviously wasn’t going to gain me any leniency. In fact, it might have encouraged him.
I stood up. “Part of it? I demand that you tell me what your full price is, with each option. I cannot finalize my