Persephone Alcmedi 00 - Wicked Circle

sixty-one feet across and eighty-five feet up, which, contrary to popular belief, is not a Tiffany glass piece. It merely follows the style of Tiffany.”
    Johnny rotated on a circle of brass in the center of the rotunda and studied the overhead panes of glass in hues of blue and yellow and green, then asked, “Why is it empty?” Around him, the members of his own pack and the Omori halted as well.
    A few paces ahead, “tour guide” MacPhearson realized he wasn’t being followed. Warily, he scanned the group, as if conducting a head count. “The city acquired the building and the tower attached for new government offices, then those plans stalled. So here it sits until they decide what to do with it. And it’s my responsibility to make sure this structure remains intact—a responsibility I take very seriously. So, if your security has reason to believe we may have a situation here today, I need to know about it.”
    Gregor drew nearer and said, “This is all standard procedure, Mr. MacPhearson. We’ve not acquired any intel suggesting adverse events today. We just take our responsibility very seriously as well.”
    MacPhearson studied Gregor for several seconds. “I’ll permit a few of your men to access the first and second mezzanines, so long as I send one of my men for every one of yours.”
    “Agreed,” Aurelia said. “Where is the podium to be placed?”
    “Podium?”
    Aurelia shuffled her papers.
    Kirk stepped up beside Johnny, and as he looked at his sharpshooter, he recalled the man’s attraction to Red’s bodyguard. He leaned in, “Do you by chance have Zhan’s cell number?” he asked in a whisper.
    Kirk gave him one solemn nod, but his wordless answer told Johnny that this was a secret. He pulled Kirk aside. “I need you to contact her. Coordinate with her to find Red.”
    “She’s missing?”
    Johnny nodded.
    “I’m on it,” Kirk said and left.
    “Page three of the contract the Zvonul offered—where are you going?” Aurelia snapped.
    “I gave him an errand,” Johnny said smoothly.
    She gave him a nonplussed stare, then turned back to MacPhearson. “Page three of the contract states that we require a podium ‘designed to denote some level of status.’ It also serves as cover should shots be fired.”
    “I don’t have anything to do with the contract, just the building.” MacPhearson took a phone from his pocket, punched a number. “Do you know anything about a podium in the contract? Page three?” he said into the phone.
    Johnny’s phone rang. It was Hector. Kirk had told him to call and he hadn’t. “ ’Lo?”
    “Hi, John . . . I mean, sire. Sorry.”
    “Don’t worry about it.”
    “I need to ask you something. Not on speakerphone, and not where others can hear.”
    Johnny drifted away from the group. “Go ahead.”
    “Were you expecting that . . . fit . . . you had last night?”
    A flashback of writhing in his kennel hit him. He remembered seeing Hector beyond the bars. Not far away, Aurelia dropped her file and bent to pick it up. Her ass was so damn nice—he turned away. “Why?”
    “John, please. Put aside the authority and the need to know my motive before you reveal anything. I get how the politics make life difficult; I was Ig’s assistant for years. Just, right now, be the guy Ig and I used to drink with. Be straight with me. Did you know?”
    “No.”
    Hector swore.
    “Why?”
    “Ig knew people. We have sources inside the haven. We know what happened. Your girlfriend called your phone last night, early. She warned me you were going to have a fit. She said it wouldn’t last long and that you’d be fine. She said you knew about it, and you didn’t. She lied, John. She lied and she did something. Something magic. You need to know what it was.”
    “I’ll find out. I’m sure it’s fine.”
    “She’d marked the vampire. Twice. She had control of him, you understand? The haven was essentially under her control. We can’t afford to have that happen to our Domn Lup.”
    “Hector, I can handle it.”
    “I bet the vamp said that, too.”

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

    I woke up. My body still hurt, but there was light on my face.
    Johnny’s here.
    I blinked until things came into focus. Well, not things, but thing: the small black candle about two feet away from my head. It was dripping dark wax into the powdery white salt. The little flame was reassuring. It meant that someone—
    “You’re awake.”
    I recognized that voice. It wasn’t