Persephone Alcmedi 00 - Wicked Circle

here,” I told him, “but don’t rush because of it. Do what you have to do. Menessos will keep me company.” After a toe-curling kiss, Johnny left.
    His kisses were always wonderful, but that one had had a sense of “nanny-nanny-boo-boo” to it, as if the divine depth and scope of that lip-lock had been meant to incite both my pleasure and Menessos’s pain.
    Men.
    My gaze lingered on Johnny as he jogged up the street. At six-two his body was lean and long, but it didn’t make him awkward. He was graceful no matter what he did. My breath escaped in a soft sigh.
    “How is your mother doing?”

CHAPTER TWELVE

    I had the urge to lecture Menessos sternly about the in signum amoris thing, but in fine female fashion, I decided to save that scolding for another time. “Skip the small talk and tell me what we’re facing here.”
    He slid into the seat kitty-corner to me so we could see each other more easily, but he stared at his palms. “The shabbubitum.”
    “Gesundheit.”
    “Sha-buh-BYE-tum,” he said slower.
    “And that’s what?”
    “ They are unique. The best description I’ve heard is vampire-harpies.”
    My stomach did a flip. “Delightful,” I said morosely. In Greek myth, harpies were hideous sisters, part hag and part vulture, who were in charge of carrying souls to Hades. “What do you think they’ll do?”
    “They are truth-seers. They will . . . reveal . . . the truth.”
    He made it sound like torture. Maybe these shabbubitum were more like the Siberian myth of the alkonost. Similar to harpies, alkonost lived in the land of the dead and tormented the souls of the damned. “Is it as painful as you make it seem?”
    “Imagine a stranger’s fingers tearing through your mind with the same hurried zeal as a thief ransacking an office while hunting for a specific file.”
    “Ouch.”
    “That, my dear, could win you the Understatement of the Year Award.”
    His being here was making more sense. “What are your options?”
    “One, we could delve into the Hellish pits of the blackest magic and overlay my entire psyche with a completely new set of memories, hoping they are innocent memories and that they don’t affect who I actually am. Two, I could abandon you, change my name and flee, then in a century or two reemerge and pretend to be a weak, new vampire while receiving the shelter of another master for an additional century or two. Or three, I could abandon you and crawl into a random grave and lie there starving until I become a revenant. Insane with hunger, I would lose all self-awareness, and with any luck someone from SSTIX would stake me before the shabbubitum even found out.”
    The Specialized Squadron for Tactical Investigation of Xenocrime—SSTIX—was the government’s answer to the nationwide issue of state and local law enforcement’s refusing to serve and protect where nonhumans—and greater personal risks—were involved.
    That two of his options involved fleeing stunned me. And hurt me. The only choice that didn’t involve him leaving sounded infinitely dangerous and implausible. He can’t just run away. He’s part of this! We’re not whole without him. “What if you simply submitted to it?”
    “Easy for you to say.”
    “No, I mean instead of resisting, what if you—” Before I could even finish I could tell by his expression that he was not fond of what I was saying.
    “That is another option.”
    “Would they go easy on you? Would it make a positive difference in the experience?”
    “No. Nor would they show any restraint on you. They are not capable of pity.”
    With an effort I swallowed down the big lump suddenly in my throat. If he has to run, it will be temporary. “Have you decided which option to take?”
    He didn’t answer.
    In fact, he was silent long enough that my own fears ignited a fiery willingness to push. “Johnny’s right, isn’t he? You’re hiding. And about to flee.” Am I actually selfish enough to prefer that he stay and be tortured by these things?
    “Changing my name and reemerging with another is the option that benefits you most.”
    “That benefits me how?”
    “If I flee, it will give the impression that I have broken your hold on me. That might spare you any further entanglements.”
    I wasn’t as worried about “further entanglements” as I was about losing him. I couldn’t fulfill my destiny without him. I wanted to scream, What about me? Instead, calmly, I said, “What about your haven?”
    “VEIN has