“Why do they gather in a church?” I asked.
“No vamps. Any sanctified ground is magically protected. Vamps can’t be on your Covenstead grounds without permission, right?”
I nodded. “It’s a sacred space, set aside and protected by our magic. Christian churches, Islamic mosques, Jewish temples . . . they have inherent protections, too.”
“It’s kind of a tradition for waeres to meet here.”
“So do they own this place or rent it or what?”
He made a face. “They’ve worked out an agreement that benefits both parties.”
“Ahhh.” Meaning I wasn’t getting details I didn’t need. Fine with me.
There were perhaps sixty waerewolves assembled. I saw Celia and Erik, Theo. Hector sat in the back, Todd in front. The Harding twins sat in the middle of the right section, and the rows around them, unsurprisingly, were filled with young men. For a pair of waerewolves they sure had cougar opportunities.
“I’m going downstairs. When I start speaking, would you make your way down, so that when I call you, you can come forward?”
“Sure.” He had told me what his plan was, but neither of us would dare to predict how the waeres would react. Not even with double innuendo points on the line.
I sat in the balcony, waiting. Being in a church made me think of the Reverend Kline. I took the protrepticus out of my jeans pocket and flipped it over and over. Surely, with Xerxadrea dead, it was no longer functional. But one never knew. I kept it with me, but I hadn’t opened it yet. Nor had I figured out what to tell Goliath about his dead brother speaking to me from it. For now those answers could wait.
We were here to ask for help. According to the news, the body found inside the Botanical Gardens had not yet been identified. But it would be. Xerxadrea had warned me Vilna-Daluca would blame me. I couldn’t expect them to offer any aid, no matter what plans might have been in the works.
Minutes later, when the flow of people into the building had ebbed, Todd took to the stairs before the pulpit. He did not stand behind it like a pastor, but remained in front.
“Welcome. This gathering has been called by our new dirija, our Domn Lup, and your presence is noted by your signatures in the Book of the Ascribed. I will remind you that what is discussed here is pack business and goes no further than pack ears.” He gestured and Johnny came up the steps to join him. “And now, the Domn Lup.” Todd went back to sit in the front pew.
The silence that followed was probably a formal show of waere respect, but I’d seen Johnny take the stage to vast applause and screams of excitement. The quiet did not befit him as well.
He nodded to them. “Hello.” Pausing to draw a breath, a charming grin came to his face. “I trust that after last night’s festivities, none of you awoke with a hangover.”
It won him a few snickers.
“No wolf worth his howl ever admits to a hangover, right?”
Howls went up around the room. When they faded, Johnny began. “I called this meeting to tell you something, and I trust that you will be patient with me in the telling.” A few seconds ticked by as he seemed to decide on his wording. “The witches have a legend about a witch who will bring balance to this world. They call her the Lustrata. All of their lore confirms that she is real and active.”
I remembered I was supposed to go down and be ready. I left my seat and quietly descended, then waited in the back of the church, leaning against the wall.
“. . . in order to achieve that balance, she must make tough choices. And she has made some. She has chosen to align herself with both waerewolves and vampires. To charge both with managing their portion of balance. Each side must do their part.”
“Vamps can’t be trusted!” someone interjected.
Johnny regarded the man who had shouted. “A few weeks ago, I was in complete agreement with that statement.”
“Bah!” someone else shouted.
“I’m not saying I’ve done a full about-face on it, either. But I’ve seen a few things that have made me reconsider. That said, one thing I am a hundred percent certain of is that I trust the Lustrata. She has generated the loyalty of a most powerful vampire and—”
“We know who you mean!” the first man said. “And what she did to generate that loyalty!”
“Her blood!” another added.
Johnny wasn’t hassled by their outbursts. “The mundane humans cannot comprehend our world, so open your eyes, and see things as they are, not as the reporters see it. We are on the brink of a war, and you must hear this!” Johnny was many things, including a musician. He knew the value of silence, and when he stopped and let silence fall, it only served to emphasize his next words. “Her blood sealed his loyalty! ‘The Lord of Vampires will drink the Lustrata’s blood.’ That is what the vamp’s own bards wrote in the eighteenth century.”
News to me.
“She is aligned with the vampire who will rule them all, and she is aligned with me.”
Cammi Harding stood. I wasn’t sure she’d changed her clothes since last night. Perhaps her closet was filled with short skirts and shirts with plunging necklines. “How did she generate your loyalty?”
Johnny appraised her, and it wasn’t kind appraisal. “In ways you cannot.”
A few men howled their Neanderthalish approval.
“She has shown me loyalty and respect, and undeniable power. The Domn Lup acknowledges power.” He beckoned me forward.
My heart was thudding in my chest, but I walked toward him. Hell, I’ve strutted about in the stupidest shoes on the planet. I can walk up there in sneakers, no prob. As I passed certain rows, the growls weren’t hidden. Keep going.
“I present to you the Lustrata,” he said.
I surveyed the crowd as I stood one step below Johnny and saw hardened, unconvinced faces.
“We are on the brink of a war,” I said, “and I have asked your Domn Lup for aid.”
They were all worried now. If Johnny said, “Jump,” they were supposed to ask, “How high?” and immediately comply.
The gathered waerewolves fidgeted uncomfortably in their seats or made other restless moves. Cammi remained standing. She tossed her head and crossed her arms, deepening her cleavage.
“Tomorrow at dawn,” Johnny said, “the fairies are coming to dole out their vengeance upon a vampire. The vampires cannot defend their own in the sunlight. We have been asked to stand in and fight for them.”
The interjections that came were, “Fight for vampires? Are you out of your mind?” and, “Let his Beholders defend him!” and, “You can’t ask us to fight for vampires.”
“I have not,” Johnny interjected there, “asked you to do anything but gather here and listen.” That shut them up. “The Beholders will be there, but our future also teeters on this one sunrise.”
“Our future?” Cammi asked.
“The fairies gave the witches an ultimatum: deliver the vampire or face war.”
Cammi sneered. “Let the witches fight!”
“I am,” I said.
“Right.” She moved into the aisle. “They’re sending just one little witch?” Something about church aisles made people move as if decorum were required, or so I thought. Cammi managed to stomp down the aisle in four-inch heels. “Their commitment seems lacking.”
My chin leveled. “I am the Lustrata.”
Cammi stopped, even with the first pew.
I wouldn’t risk touting the aid of witches who weren’t likely to show up. I just hoped none of the waeres knew the witches were divided on the subject of supporting me. “Will you be there?” I asked Cammi.