Persephone Alcmedi 00 - Wicked Circle

hospital,” Nana grouched out her open door. “It’s just a sprain.”
    “It may be more than that.”
    “It isn’t. Eris needs to go home and get warm and dry. All I need is some ice and Aleve. I’ll be fine.” She dangled the Corvette keys from her finger, then tossed them to me.
    I caught the key ring. “How are you going to get up the stairs?” Eris’s apartment was on the second story, above her tattoo parlor.
    “Lance will help me.” Nana slammed the truck door.
    “And she has spoken,” Eris said through chattering teeth. “I may not have been around her for years, but I still know when her mind is made up. That hasn’t changed.”
    She was right. “Drive the Slut home.”
    Eris barked out a laugh. “I’m telling Nana what you called her.”
    “Her knee’s sprained and I can still run. I’m not scared.” And besides, Nana knew the joke behind the truck’s name.
    “I was scared.” Eris reached up and stroked my hair, pushing a wet tendril off my brow and under the hood. “I tried to get you. I swear I did.” Tears plunged down her cheeks again.
    I wanted her to realize the magical impact of having lost her arm. I wanted her to get creative and figure out how to work around it. She had tried to save me, but Hecate had intervened, and Eris had failed to get me. That failure had frightened her more than I could gauge. I worried the failure had emphasized what she couldn’t do in a way that would make her withdraw to an inward and needy place instead of standing up and fighting to retain independence.
    Eris wiped her eyes and asked, “What about you?”
    “I’ll gather up our stuff here. Fifteen minutes. I’m right behind you.”
    She didn’t budge. She simply stared at me, as apologetic and guilty as was humanly possible.
    “Go.” I spun her gently toward the truck. “You can do this.” I was mindful of her awkward climb into the cab, and how she settled into the driver’s seat. Securing the seat belt was tricky, but it was easier than turning the key and putting the truck into gear.
    Neither the doctor nor the Pennsylvania Department of Motor Vehicles had cleared her to drive, but we had no options just now and I was sure she would manage the actual driving just fine. Driving herself and Nana home was something she could do.
    I didn’t offer to help; Eris was going to have to learn she could do these right-handed things for her left-handed self.

CHAPTER SEVEN

    I want you to be the one to free the shabbubitum.” The Excelsior spoke in a language no living human had spoken in centuries.
    In the antechamber of the Excelsior’s private rooms, Meroveus sat in a comfortable chair with a fire blazing in the wide hearth. The environment was a cozy—albeit aristocratic—setting of French antiques shrouded in shadows and subdued colors, but Mero was not at ease. Even as the advisor to the most politically powerful vampire in the world, he had only been in this room a few times before.
    Those other occasions hadn’t been good, either.
    “Mero.”
    Refusing the Excelsior was unwise, so he said nothing.
    Opposite him, the Excelsior vacated his seat and stood staring into the flames. The flickering illumination cast across his visage seemed to catch on his high cheekbones and smolder there.
    The Excelsior’s mother in life, Chlo, had often said the mesmerizing dance of the fire called forth the best of her thoughts like moths, illuminating them in her mind. His features so favored hers. . . .
    The Excelsior reached into a bucket on the hearth and tossed a fistful of some granular substance into the flames. The scent of hazelnuts filled the air. “I know this is not what you wanted,” the Excelsior said, reclaiming his seat. “But I need you to do this.”
    Mero would not meet the gaze he knew was upon him. There were three adept-level vampire wizards capable of this spell. Menessos could certainly not assume the task, but there was still another option. “Send Konstance instead.”
    “No.” The Excelsior’s answer was soft but firm. “You were there when they were sealed in stone. You know how to break the spell.”
    “I can tell Konstance how.”
    “You are my representative. It should be you.”
    Mero finally looked up. “I beg you, Deric. Do not make me do this.” Speaking the Excelsior’s given name was a trump that he rarely dared to use.
    “Konstance is tending to a matter in China that I cannot call her away from. There is no one else.”
    “Then, do not do