Persephone Alcmedi 00 - Wicked Circle

wanted was a nice, hot bath with enough bubbles to make me forget what had just happened on the rooftop of the wærewolves’ den. However, I was betting that the bubbles the wine produced in my brain had a better shot at achieving that.
    “Do you recall the stake that was on your property?” Menessos asked.
    “I do.” His former and estranged E.V. had made and enchanted a stake to keep Menessos away from her. She’d used a little of the home earth in his dirt-bag mixed with her own blood—which was bound to him—and Blessed Water to create it. He had not even been able to be in the presence of the stake. I’d destroyed it.
    “Once I’d marked you, it hurt you to be near it, though more subtly than it hurt me. And when I was near it, I could convey some of the pain it caused me onto you.”
    “Yeah, so you could threaten Johnny.” He’d let me bear all the pain. Damn near killed me, but also enabled me—and Hecate—to flip the mark back onto him, though neither of us had known it at the time.
    “Exactly. It was . . . self-preservation.”
    “Something you lacked on the beach.” I leaned forward and put the empty wineglass on the floor. When I sat up, Menessos scooted closer.
    “The beach was different.”
    His whisper was imbued with such sweet resolve that I couldn’t argue. I could only stare and relive the moment I’d staked him, then rewind and relive kissing him.
    Would I be better off in his arms instead of Johnny’s? Would I be safer?
    I held my breath.
    How can I even think this? Am I so tired I’ve gone fickle?
    My gaze dropped to my twice-wrapped palms.
    I knew exactly how I could be thinking what I was thinking. But it hurt so damn much. Like the shabbubitum, I’d done this to myself. I’d given Johnny what he needed to be Domn Lup: his wolf unbound. But I’d also created a situation that undermined the love that had prompted my actions.
    There’s that stupid L word again.
    Menessos slowly lowered his lips to my wrist, giving me plenty of seconds to protest. I didn’t. When his fangs pierced me, I barely felt it. He didn’t go deep, but he didn’t need to.
    With his teeth just under my skin, he kindled my flesh, raising heat throughout my body. Gooseflesh followed. The hair at the nape of my neck prickled and a deep sigh drifted from my lips. My sternum burned within me. My nipples hardened and I yearned to be touched.
    But he held only my wrist and sipped of my blood.
    So I touched him.
    The fingers of my free hand stroked his head, combed slightly through his walnut-colored curls. His hair was so soft. When I caressed his earlobe, he shuddered, and I felt the needle-tips of his fangs leave my flesh. He kept his head lowered as the kindling died slowly away, but I could hear his breathing had accelerated.
    He sat up slowly and released my wrist. “There, my master. That should be better.” He freed one of the bandages.
    He’d pushed some healing into me. A week or so ago, after the Omori had hit me with a baseball bat, Menessos had fed and the goose egg on my cranium had disappeared. Now, the cuts on my palms were more like scrapes, and the sore puffiness was gone. I wasn’t as tired, either. “Much,” I whispered.
    He relaxed into the couch and stroked my cheek, then his hand fell to his lap.
    Zhan could have told him that my afternoon was spent with the wæres. From that, and my weepy arrival, he could infer a lot.
    Menessos is the master manipulator. If he’s sitting here being so gentle and sweet, he has a reason. Maybe Zhan even told him how Johnny was acting, what she overheard.
    “How does the stake connect to our dilemma now?” My voice was still husky with desire.
    “I can still transfer my pain.”
    Aha. “To your master.”
    “Yes, but you are here and expected to be seen. If you fell into agony, it would give away what I was doing.”
    This wasn’t going where I thought it would.
    “But if I move it via my soul . . .”
    I blinked. “You mean you’d send it to Johnny. Through the sorsanimus .” Was he testing me, to see if I felt vindictive? “Why not just spread it out over your people? The whole haven will be here.”
    “I can and will . . . they will be expecting that. But since Johnny could endure a lot of pain, I would give him a large chunk of it, and meanwhile, as I pretend to be in pain, I’m actually still able to function secretly.”
    “Is this what you and Creepy worked out? Torturing an innocent in your stead?”
    “Johnny is