Beverley’s spine straightened slowly. “Okay.”
I went downstairs. Everyone was in the hall or the living room, but my focus remained on my purpose. I stepped out onto the front porch. The night air was swirling and cold, like my thoughts. But the chill I felt was deeper, in the marrow of my bones and down in the core of me that was so deep it was in another world beyond the boundaries of physics.
“Menessos.” I didn’t shout. I didn’t have to. He was already watching me through the open window of his vehicle. The door opened, and he slid out smoothly and came striding toward the house. He clearly didn’t like being “summoned” as such, but we both understood why I wasn’t going out there again. Before, I’d left my safety to rescue Beverley because I had thought they had taken her. Now I had what he wanted. Goliath was, of course, following—the expression on his face was guarded, but not guarded enough. I had the distinct feeling that they had been talking about me.
I shifted my weight. There was no time for dancing around the subject. I met Menessos’s eyes and asked, “Would you and Goliath stand in my circle?”
An infinitesimal change to the tilt of his head signaled surprise. His perfectly proportioned features suddenly displayed a wonder that was altogether foreign to his face. “You’re serious.”
“I don’t want Theo to die.”
“But are you prepared to invite Goliath and myself into your home?”
“That’s what I came out here to do.”
Amazement silenced him.
Goliath said, “Why?”
“Ritual says you, Goliath, have to ask her to forgive you during the rite.”
He grinned. “Oh, so you need me? I thought you wanted to kill me.”
“Theo needs you.” I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction. “If I hadn’t screwed up in the first place—and if you weren’t such an arrogant, murdering bastard—we wouldn’t be here. Either of us. So how about we play nice for just a little bit, and then everybody goes away happy?”
“I’m not sure you’re qualified to understand what will make me happy.”
“I have the stake, Vivian, and the book. I can figure out what will make you unhappy. The forgoing of that should, if you’re wise, make you happy.”
“Fine. What’s in it for us? Our assistance has a cost.”
“I already said that Vivian, the stake, and the book are yours once the ritual is complete, but if I invite you in, you have the guarantee of knowing there will be no way for me to block you from taking them and that I intend no double-cross.”
“You’re not offering me anything new.”
“I’ll be giving up the safety of my home’s inherent protection. That’s the price I’m willing to pay to save Theo.” I faced Menessos. The decision would be his. “The things you fear the most are all inside my house, and despite your intimidation tactic of calling my wards petty—”
“I believe I referred to them as paltry,” Menessos corrected.
“Paltry. Nevertheless, the things you desire are ultimately out of your reach, unless I bring them out or I invite you in.”
“The stake is inside. Being uncertain of who may pop out of a hiding spot and stake us does not inspire our cooperation.”
If I was inviting him inside, it made little difference if his beholder buddies had the opportunity to grab the stake from a location outside. “Then the stake will leave the wards. I’ll take it out into the cornfield.”
He considered it.
Before he could speak, I added, “But in exchange for that guarantee from me, I want a guarantee from you. A guarantee that no one in my house will be harmed.” I paused. “That includes Vivian—at least, until she’s off my property. Do what you want to her, but not here. Not where Beverley can see or hear it.”
Menessos repeated it all back to me. “We participate and help your friend recover. Then you’ll surrender freely these things I fear most, as you put it. Vivian, the book—which I am sure you must be loath to part with—and you’ll place the stake outside?”
Parting with my ward-defenses was more loathsome to me than parting with the Codex, but Nana wouldn’t have agreed with me. “That’s acceptable.”
“I will send an envoy for the stake tomorrow.”
I bobbed my head in agreement.
“Very well. I promise no one inside will be harmed—”
“Promise no one here will be harmed in any way, inside of the house or outside of it,” I pressed.
“I will make oath to that, you will make invitation, and we will wait on the porch, not entering your home until after the stake is removed.” He rubbed his hands together. “This agreement seems more equitable than the siege I had expected this evening.”
What the hell had he been planning?
He raised his right hand, palm up, and slid his sleeve up halfway to his elbow. With the nail of his left-hand forefinger, he made a slice over the vein in his forearm. Blood welled up instantly, dark and syrupy, pouring in a thick stream over his skin. He pushed through my ward, setting off the alarm in my head. I deactivated it with a thought. He wiped his left hand over the blood and smeared it over the posts holding up my porch roof and across the tread of the first step. “By my blood, then, no one in your house will be harmed, either by me or Goliath or any other under my control or influence.”
Behind me, at the screen door, I heard Nana gasp.
“Agreed.” I swallowed, hard, knowing what I had to do next.
Chapter 22
Menessos, Goliath. Please…come inside.”
Menessos put his foot onto the first tread, unhurriedly, then stepped up onto my porch. I wanted to retreat, to backpedal to the door and inside. I shouted at myself mentally: Do not show him fear! Even if you are afraid, you’ll fight it with every breath, every beat of your heart! Fear isn’t weakness, but giving in to it is. My feet were planted between the vampire and my front door.
He stood there expectantly, gazing into my eyes, though I stared at his lightly bearded square chin. In a fluid motion, Menessos glided right up to me, invading my personal space. I retreated, and he moved with me at the same speed and distance, as if we were dancing. Then my back was against the porch roof support post.
In that instant, I learned something: people’s fears are odd things. Some people won’t go boating or swimming because of a fear of the water. Some people won’t wear turtlenecks or anything tight at their throats. Some people avoid big dogs. I’d always attributed these kinds of things to past-life events, like drowning, hanging, being attacked by animals—whatever would account for the fear. I’d never discovered a specific fear of my own like that—until now, as I stood with my back pinned against a solid post. I wondered if a past life of mine had ended with a post at my back and kindling under my feet.
“Thank you, Miss Alcmedi, for having faith in my word.”
“You’re welcome.” It sounded a lot more confident than I felt.
“You’re an uncommon woman.”
“What does that mean?” It sounded like praise, but a vampire’s praise was a worrisome thing.
“People generally reside in one of two categories. Either the group who think vampires are…cool”—he made it sound like an expletive—“and offer up thoughtless invitations incessantly, or those with a terror of vampires so intense they offer only intolerance and hate. Most of both categories are imbeciles, and we would never seek their companionship.” He touched me, lightly, to smooth my hair. I could not tell if his touch was cold or calloused, but I wondered. “But you…Persephone.” He whispered my name, and I felt the warmth of a summer breeze on my bare skin. “You are intelligent and brave. If only there were more like you…”
From the doorway, Johnny cleared his throat, a sound that ended with a prolonged low growl. I was suddenly embarrassed, angry with myself, and angry that Menessos would try seduction while my friend lay dying for our help. “There is little time,” I said, gesturing toward the door.