“For what purpose?”
“I thought the two of you would come to understand on your own, by sharing a more fulfilling union. I told you bliss doesn’t have to be—”
“Hard to find. I remember. And?”
“You will share a mental connection, knowing each other’s moods more readily, empathically. If there is an emotion strong enough, like fear, it may call to the other—a benefit that, as your other role becomes clearer and more advanced, you may find as worthwhile as the more physical one.”
If he meant being the Lustrata was dangerous, that wasn’t a surprise. I crossed my arms and my legs. “And what’s the bonus in this for you?”
“Bonus?”
“You told me earlier that ‘if there is an advantage for me, I will command you to action’ and apparently you were commanding. All your altruistic claims aside, he’s a waere and what you dared was very dangerous.”
“With all that you are to me, for you to be bound to all that he is to become, I benefit. And with what he is to become, wizardry isn’t as much of a threat.” Menessos projected nothing but sincerity. “You must be safe, Persephone. I have acted only to increase his ability to provide protection. Think of it as a gift.”
He had an angle that, while I didn’t approve, I understood. “Speaking of protection.” My crossed arms fell. “I spoke with Xerxadrea. Are you possibly willing to share your secret with the vampire—what are they now?—lords or executives?”
“They are presently preferring the term ‘executives,’ but in my company you may use whatever term you like. And no, I am not willing to share.”
“Even if it would mean they came to your aid?”
“If they were to come to my aid, then too much would change, and nothing would change at all.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means perceptions would change, people would think the situation different than now, but it would not be.” He shook his head and stared off at one of the museum cases. “The world would have a target to blame, and an immortal sage to be hounded by museums and historians, begged for explanations of the eons. And I wish to be neither of those.”
“Enough to risk dying?”
With a steady stare, he said, “Yes.”
I couldn’t breathe; tension squeezed me like a vise. I stood. “Don’t put it all on my shoulders to save you. You have to do something, too!”
He also stood. “I am not putting it all on you. Believe me, I am being proactive about this.” When I didn’t respond, he asked, “Has WEC tried negotiating yet?”
“Yes. The fairies will not negotiate.”
He began pacing behind his desk. “Is there a time frame?”
“Headlands Dunes on Lake Erie at dawn this coming Sunday.”
He nodded.
“As Xerxadrea said, the council wants me to deliver you. Barring that, they’re giving consideration to asking the Vampire Executive International Network for approval to take you, a debt they’ll repay with their blood.”
“If you deliver me, what are they offering?”
“They recognize me as Lustrata.”
He stopped and considered it. “Not a small offer, WEC endorsement. But they still cannot force witches individually to believe it, or to like it. Depending on the influence of the higher-ups, and their take on what you represent, they could either undermine you with propaganda, or build you up with it. They could use the threat of repercussions to lessen opposition to you, or the punishments they dole out could be inconsequential.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully. “That offer could be good or bad. What’s the threat if you don’t?”
I sat again. “That was my other question for you. Xerxadrea said I’d be Bindspoken.”
His shoulders squared and his hands dropped, clenching. “They wouldn’t dare!” Then his chin dropped. “And yet . . . they just might.”
“How does that happen?”
“I do not know, exactly.”
“They can’t do that from afar, though. Right?”
His fists loosened as he considered it. “No.”
“Is there anything in the Codex that can protect me?”
“Yes.” He nodded and came around the desk and rested one hip on it, directly in front of me. “But first you’re going to have to go to Wolfsbane and Absinthe.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“What’s Wolfsbane and Absinthe?” I leaned toward Menessos and gripped the arm of his chair.
“I will tell you that, after you’ve answered my questions about what you saw at the Eximium.” Still leaning on his desk, he crossed his arms.
Damn it. Did I play stubborn? Hoping that playing along would win me some points, I conceded as he had, saying, “As you wish.”
He nodded, then became as solemn as I had ever seen him. “Tell me again, in detail, what you saw at the Eximium.”
“Just as Xerxadrea started to announce what her test would be, she spoke of Hecate. I felt the touch of Her power, and a light formed behind Xerxadrea. I could smell raisin and currant cakes. Then you sat up straighter. Did you see Her, too?”
“I remember what seconds you speak of, but I saw nothing. I heard an owl screech.” His hand slid up to stroke his chin.
“I didn’t hear that.”
He was intent. “What did She look like?”
“She was beautiful, and haggard. Then at the Ball—”
“You saw Her at the Witches’ Ball, as well?”
“Yes. After everything was over with Beverley. Xerxadrea took my arm and then . . .” My words trailed off. I reclined in the chair, remembering. Twice Xerxadrea had been the catalyst of my seeing the Goddess as Hecate. I had also seen Her as a mustang and as a woman in my meditations. As a child, I saw Her once when alone in a cornfield.
“Then what?” Menessos moved to the chair next to me. He perched on its edge, leaning close to me.
“I was with Hecate. Her face seemed to grow old, then grow youthful in seconds. Her eyes were so strange. They were eyes of the moon, eyes that had stared into the sun for eons.” She’d said I would seek Her and find Her, when I was ready to see my own soul. But I wasn’t going to tell Menessos about that.
“And what of me?”
“She gave Her Blessing to us, to the witches that hear Her. ‘Witches mine,’ She said. As She came forward, She reached out to you and said, ‘Be forgiven,’ as She passed and—”
“Touched my cheek.” Menessos sat back.
“Yes. You felt it?”
“Like the moon had kissed me.” That made him smile and sigh. A visible amount of relief swept over him then his relief transformed into seduction. “I know who and what you are, Persephone. And you are right, you’re not Una. But, I yearn for you.”
Not this again. “Menessos.”
“Una saw visions of the Goddess, too. And so did—so did the second Lustrata.”
I was gearing up to relaunch my protest, but this information made me curious. “What kind of visions?”
“Much like yours, I’m certain. They left her awestruck and inspired. Both former Lustratas explained their visions to me, but these incidents, though compelling, do not foster the same fervor in those who hear the tale as they do for those who are a part of the encounter.”
I shared my agreement with a nod. My thoughts skipped back to this Wolfsbane and Absinthe. If I am Bindspoken, there will be no more visions.
Menessos touched my arm. I peered into his eyes. “Kiss me, Persephone. Kiss me and I will let you see the Codex.”
I made an irritated face at him and stood so I could look down at him. “I know you’ve lived longer in times when women were mere chattel than you’ve lived in times where women had rights and liberties, but that’s where you are now. Either you’re with me and you share information I need without demanding whorish behavior from me, or you’re not on my side.”
“There is nothing whorish about your behavior.”
“A kiss in trade for valuable information is.”
“Don’t I deserve some recompense for what I provide?”
“You get my blood.”