Persephone Alcmedi 00 - Wicked Circle

If ‘I want to do this to you now.’ Do you think I’m out to get you?”
    “Feels like it.”
    Demeter hobbled over to the opposite couch. Again, she propped up her leg, using the length of the cushions. “All this self-pity you’re wallowing in—”
    “I’m not—”
    “Yes, you are!” Nana shouted. “And you’re pressuring Persephone, trying to guilt her into loving you. She doesn’t love you, Eris. You’ve given her nothing but abandonment, and followed that with a guilt trip.”
    That’s ridiculous. “I’m her mother. And I saved her boyfriend’s life!” She had expected her actions would buy her daughter’s love. That her sacrifice hadn’t simply filled Persephone with compassion and devotion pointed out a flaw in Persephone’s character. Eris had begged Frigg, the Norse goddess of motherhood, to prod Persephone into recognizing that fact . . . but it seemed Frigg was not inclined to aid her.
    “Yes. You saved his life,” Demeter said. “And you could have saved your arm if you had gone to the hospital with the medics.”
    At those words, Eris’s stomach formed a molten ball. I didn’t ask for this! But Eris knew in her heart that she had. No one knew about the countless times she had thought to herself, I’d give my right arm for another chance. . . . “The spell needed finishing.”
    “It could have waited. You were impatient for the benefit, eager for Seph to see you as not giving up. You chose not to go. You chose to threaten Zhan’s life in order to stay and finish. Did you think that would erase the past? Do you think Persephone owes you now for those choices you freely made?”
    Yes. The word almost slipped out, but Eris bit her tongue. Demeter was twisting it all around just like—“You’ve been scrying!” That’s where the opals had gone. Her mother had always been perceptive; her scrying ability was unmatched. Growing up with her had been a nightmare. Demeter could use the magical properties of opals to combine scrying with a form of astral projection. This was a skill Eris had never completely understood, but it busted her in lies, skipping school, underage smoking . . . so much more. Demeter could use it to pick up information that was, for lack of a better term, psychic. She knows. Frigg help me, she knows.
    Demeter didn’t deny it. She put her leg down and sat forward. “You saved a life, Eris. You’re a hero. So act like a hero. Not a martyr.”
    Tears welled up and fell before Eris could think to fight them. Demeter sank onto the couch next to her. She squeezed Eris’s hand. “There’s a boy in there who loves you and needs you, and he’s afraid he’s losing you to a sister who’s never been a part of your lives until now.”
    Eris sniffled. “He told you that? Or did you scry that up too?”
    “Neither. It’s written all over him. You’re not seeing it because you’re so wrapped up in Persephone. I know your daughter. She won’t be pressured or pushed into your life. Focus on Lance now and let her go. I promise she’ll come back.”
    Risqué worked by candlelight at the altar table in Menessos’s private rooms. She was unperturbed by the fact that his corpse and Meroveus’s lay in closed beds nearby. Her makeup case was on the floor at her feet. Another case, similar in size but filled with magical miscellanea, was beside it.
    Her master had inspected the items she’d brought to fulfill his list. He’d explained what he wanted her to do with them. It was a difficult task, brilliantly plotted and full of risks.
    Risks. Perfect for me.
    She began,
Necklaces two, I now make,
With spellwork meant never to break.
With carnelians and malachites,
The wearers are stable in their human hides.
Birch, iron, and silver wire,
This spell will never expire!
Iron lockets open wide,
These I now place inside:
Dragon’s Blood, powdered fine,
Mandrake root, and turpentine.
One dark hair from the Lustrata’s head,
This binding you can never shed.
Vampire wizard’s blood—two drops!
Now this binding cannot be stopped.
Sealed with fire, hot as the sun,
This binding cannot be undone.
    Each necklace was placed into a basket. She laid the jewelry carefully, as one link in the chain of each was yet open. Carrying the basket and a bucket with welding supplies, Risqué stepped to the back chamber door. She declared her mortality and opened it without trouble from the spell her master had placed upon it. Still, she felt the compulsion he’d placed. The seal would