Persephone Alcmedi 00 - Wicked Circle

the rough texture and yanking out.
    The wolf landed a few yards away and twisted back, a wicked rumble rising from deep in its chest. My hands went to the rooftop, ready to launch me up again, but I felt the smooth broom handle. Gripping it, I rolled, straddling it as I said, “Awaken ye to life.” It boosted me into the air and shot forward as the black wolf closed in again.
    Johnny.
    What have you done?
    The wind over the city tore the tears from my eyes before they could spill to my cheeks.
    Johnny had attacked me. Attacked me .
    What’s wrong with him?
    But in my heart I knew. I’d ignored that nagging little fear, and it had been right.
    His beast is loose.
    If I hadn’t burned up the in signum amoris , I would have known that something was wrong before Johnny’s man-mind had been highjacked by the beast, caught in the throes of bloodlust.
    He’d broken my trust in his beast, and I wasn’t sure this could ever mend. My tears flowed faster.
    Miles away, something else hit me: His best and bravest were with him, and for now, they were all feral and would follow the dominant male among them, even if that wolf was leading them to trash their own den in order to get out and find meat.
    No one was supposed to return to the den for roughly another half hour. What if they weren’t in their kennels when the other wæres showed up? The others would know something wasn’t right with their Domn Lup.
    Worse, what if the pack was able to break the barricades? If the three dozen fully formed wæres escaped the building and were loose in a city completely unprepared for them—right before the Domn Lup was supposed to have his prestigious press conference—it would mean disaster for Johnny.
    His disaster would mean the ruination of our trio and the failure of me and my destiny.
    I couldn’t allow that to happen. No matter what.
    My speed slowed. My phone was in my purse, locked in the car. My keys were in the duffel on the rooftop. There was no one I could call and no time to wait for someone else to go and make sure this didn’t escalate into a multilevel tragedy.
    I circled around and headed back.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

    I circled the Cleveland Cold Storage building and saw only one wærewolf on the rooftop. By the placement of this wolf, I knew it was Beau’s son. Still unconscious, he hadn’t moved so much as an inch. It was cold, so, despite his being covered with fur, I collected the other men’s piled clothing and covered him up with several Tshirts, topping that with layers of jeans.
    I spiraled down the building and flew into the parking area. The guys in the Audi were still asleep.
    At the stairwell, I could hear grunts and snarls of wolves, far, far up. The sound wasn’t getting closer or louder. Only two questions remained: Would the gates continue to detain the thirty-some wæres tearing at it, and could I coerce them to their kennels? If the others figured out Johnny’s man-mind wasn’t dominant, they’d suspect this whole thing was my wrongdoing.
    Hovering away from the stairwell, I noticed the elevator wasn’t here. I opened the bug-eaten gates and peered up. The carrier was dark up in the shaft, but it was nowhere near here. The last wæres out must’ve left via the stairs as Johnny escorted me up in the elevator.
    I intentioned the broom into the metal and cement tube and slowly rose to the fourth floor. Forcing the doors open a crack, I listened. From the sound, the wæres were blocked just around the corner. They were none too quiet, so I forced the doors wide enough to let me dismount the broom.
    I’d been here before, when the Omori had first arrived. The dirija ’s office was on this floor, as was the big gymnasium-sized meeting hall.
    Cautiously, I skimmed along the wall between the elevator and the stairwell. When I was able to see the gate, my stomach almost dropped out of me. Wæres were crammed against the iron bars and shuffling around each other and upon each other, more irritated by the lack of room than organized about destroying the gate.
    With man-minds, they’d be out by now.
    But with man-minds, they’d be immune to bloodlust. That wouldn’t take effect until the next transformation under the full moon.
    I backed slowly away, leaned on the elevator door, and ran fingers through my hair.
    My head was bleeding. Or it had been. When I’d fallen backward on the rooftop, I must have split my scalp. Flying just afterward, the cold November temperature and the rushing wind