Shattered Circle

even more complete than your plan.”

I sighed. Back to that. I didn’t have any trust in his offer.

“It is the influence of Menessos that has made this decision so difficult for you. You can see that, can’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“So wipe that slate clean, Persephone. Give me a chance.”

“A chance to what?”

“To prove myself to you, that you might find faith in my aid, and in my intentions.”

“What do you propose?”

He smiled broadly and offered me his hand.

I gauged him. “Is this going to cost me?”

“Only a little more time.”

How much time had passed in the real world? Getting out of this anytime soon wasn’t going to happen anyway. I slipped my hand into his.

Immediately, my stomach gave a flip and the decrepit structure whooshed into a spin that swirled the darkness with lighter colors. The dizziness hurt and I grabbed Creepy around the waist. When the spin ceased as abruptly as it had begun, all those paler colors grew solid into a new environment.

When the nausea and shock wore off, I released his waist and realized that he’d teleported us to a hill at the edge of a stone ruin. One side of the horizon was inky black, the other was pink and gold with rays stretching mightily; in this place the sun was rising.

“Walk with me,” he said. He was still holding my hand as he stepped away. I walked with him but removed my hand. He flashed me a sad look, then noticed my socked feet and led me off the pebbly pathway. We strolled through the grassy yard around the old structure. My feet were wet with dew, but, tender footed as I am, I appreciated the softer place to tread.

“Where are we?”

“Just a place I like.”

He guided me to a spot with gigantic boulders rising out of the ground. I turned slowly in a circle to view it all. The ruins were sad in the predawn light.

When I faced him again, he was atop one of the boulders. “The dawn is lovely from up here.” He offered me his hand. Begrudgingly, I took it. He hauled me up beside him and slid his arm around my waist to steady me.

My arm didn’t slide around his waist in return, but I stood without protesting his touch.

The countryside was misty below. The growing light glistened here and there in the moist air, making it twinkle like a gauzy blanket on which someone had scattered diamonds.

Long minutes pulled the sun higher, until I had to lift a hand as a shield against the glowing brilliance.

“This is a beautiful time,” he said in my ear, then pulled back to gaze at me. “The warm light is kind to you. Like summer’s caress. But I prefer the night. The moon does not burn the eyes.” He smiled and ran his fingers gently over my cheek.

His dark eyes were adoring and kind. A soothing sensation filled me as I peered into them.

“But I have seen how the cold silver light touches you. Your splendor cannot be dimmed by any celestial radiance, only enhanced by it.”

Oh my God. What girl doesn’t want to hear eloquent praise like that?

However, that encomium was met by my silence. I could not pay him a compliment as kind or as lovely, but I felt compelled to do something that would please him like his words had pleased me.

“I would call you by any name you like if you would tell me what you intend to do if I choose to do things your way.”

“I cannot reveal this to you, Persephone.”

With a sigh I glanced into the valley below.

“What concerns you so? What is it you fear I will do?”

“You spoke of balance. I do not want you to hurt others or take from innocents in order to secure the safety of my family and friends.”

“May I take from the guilty?”

I squinted at him. “I don’t like it. This is all on me. Even if it is your action, the blame will rest with me. It’s my doing, through you. My karma. And I’ve learned that two wrongs don’t make a right.”

“The purity of your purpose is noble and endearing, but you are asking quite a lot, you know this?”

I nodded.

He considered it for a moment. And another. He turned away, paced a few steps along the boulder top, hopped to the next one, took a few more steps, then stopped. His hand tapped thoughtfully at his lips, then gestured as if he was making mental bullet points. Then he strode back.

He snapped his fingers and a stone slate appeared in the air from a shower of black dust. An ornate hammer and chisel appeared hovering above it.

“Do you want me to aid you with this rudimentary idea you have with the stake, or far more thoroughly and safe in my own way?”

I frowned.

“So you want me to help you in this situation with the Excelsior, but only if I can secure the safety of all those you hold dear, without harming others, and without taking anything from others be they innocent or guilty.”

After repeating his words silently to myself, my answer was “Yes.”

“Then decide: my way or yours. I can only truly guarantee all this if we do things my way.”

My frown remained. “If your way can achieve my aim with all the security you have promised, I have to admit it must be a better way. But . . . ”

He waved his hand and the tools began striking the stone.

My brows flew up and my mouth opened to protest.

“And you agree to my price?”

I clamped my mouth shut.

“I have required less of you by doing things my way.”

“True. But.”

He put his hand under my chin. “Have an open mind, Persephone. Let me show you who I am. Not who the vampire has told you I am.”

I pulled from his grasp. “I just don’t do casual sex. There have to be feelings involved for me.”

“Why?”

“It’s slutty otherwise.”

He laughed. “You are a grown woman of above-average intelligence. How can you not recognize that the behavior of adults is always about give and take. You work, you earn money. Give and take. You take the money and purchase things. That’s take and give. It’s all an exchange. It is only sentimentality that draws the line at sexual relations.”

“No. It’s morals.”

“Yes, that, too.”

“You want me to know who you are, but you’re asking me to do something against every fiber of who I am.”

“But for what you are getting in this instance, I believe it is fair.” He gestured and the stone turned in the air to show me what he’d said was written on it.

He stepped close to me and slipped his arms around my waist. He nuzzled his chin against the side of my head and whispered, “Give yourself to me. You cannot leave otherwise. You cannot stay here forever. Your body will die without you, and faster than it would out of want for food and water.”

Staring at his chest, I sighed. The trapped feeling was overwhelming. Agreeing to sex with him was the only way out. He could have raped me and been done with it, but that was part of the psychological game he was playing. He was making me choose in spite of the ridiculous connotations it held for me. It was petty. It was part old-world, women-are-property. It was part under-the-table-political-dealing. And a whole lot of it was guerrilla- tactics-forcing-situational-ethics.

It made me mad.