“Yes, witches have the power to misshape you, but the truth you don’t want to acknowledge is the counterpoint that balances that. Witches also have the power to eliminate your weakness, Rege. All you’ve been willing to see is the danger they represent. Your fear has created a wedge where there should have always been a bridge. The time for that dogma is past and now it’s your attitude that has to change. Let it trickle down to all wæres. Guide them to desire man-minds as a means of safety. Use the benefits—like the fact that kenneling won’t be necessary—to convince them.” If I was to be involved in this, I didn’t want them to misunderstand. “I know it will take time to find the right witches who can do this, but I can help you find solitaries or those disaffected by the organization. If you develop a businesslike relationship with them, WEC will eventually have to see that doing their part to build that bridge of trust will take us all into the future with firmer footing.” I uncrossed my arms. “This world will keep spinning no matter what, but all of your people—and all of mine—must take personal responsibility for their own progress.”
Gregor growled. “Personal responsibility? Your words sound unsettlingly close to those that would incite a rebellion.”
“Good! You all need to rebel against that notion that has kept you afraid of witches.”
The Rege turned to his men. The expectancy on their faces was plain; they were waiting for him to guide them. Would it be “as usual,” or would he lead in a new direction? Some, like Gregor, clearly wanted to stay on the path they knew well.
The Rege spun back. “Who are you?”
I’d taunted him earlier that he didn’t know who I was. He hadn’t gotten my name then. I supposed now would do. “I’m Persephone Alcmedi.”
“You speak pretty words, Persephone. A spell in each charismatic syllable, but I cannot—”
“She’s the Lustrata,” Johnny said, interrupting before the Rege could bestow judgmental words he might have to eat later. The Zvonul’s main man did not move, but seemed frozen in place. Only his eyes moved, flicking over to Johnny as he added, “And you’ve tempted her wrath quite far enough.” The Rege again drew a breath, ready to protest, and Johnny cut him off. “She deserves respect, Rege.”
His face pinched up so tight I thought it was caving in on itself. Giving respect to a woman was blasphemy for a man afflicted with the kind of misogyny that allowed him to qualify rape as a means of punishment. And because I’m a witch—a woman with power—it flavored his bitterness with acid.
Now I understood how the rift had become so wide. Witches were predominantly female.
“You really don’t get it, do you, Rege?” Johnny spoke up. “You see her gift will make the wæres always powerful and eliminate that one full moon night of weakness. You see that it will raise us above the vamps, who lose half of every day and rely on Beholders and Offerlings for their safety. What you can’t seem to recognize is that she’s offering to let you guide the wæres, to have the credit of wise guidance, because she’s not in it for the power or glory.” Johnny moved toe-to-toe with the Rege. “You haven’t shown her any respect yet. Kidnapping her, killing a friend, trying to rape her. Think about it. The only reason you’re not half-formed right now is because she intends to fulfill her destiny.”
“She needs me,” he spat. “I won’t be a puppet to a … a witch!”
I had the distinct feeling he’d almost said woman.
Johnny shook his head. “You’re wrong. She doesn’t need you. She has me, the Domn Lup. But the influence of your long years as Rege would make this easier for everyone.”
Silently, Gregor positioned himself just to the side. It was clear he was showing the Rege he backed him up. So I took up the opposite side. Kirk moved in a step behind me.
Johnny went on. “Only with her willing aid can we be lifted above our animal minds. Placed equal to witches in that we have no time of weakness.”
“Why would she lift us equal to her own kind?” the Rege demanded.
“To bring balance,” I said.
All three of them looked at me. The Rege’s attention bounced from me to Johnny and he studied Johnny for a long moment. Without another word, he turned and walked to the limo and got in. His men followed him.
I hope he recognized that he had a hell of a lot to think about.
When the limo drove away, the pack sighed collectively in relief.
Chris strolled up to me. “Lustrata, huh?”
It still felt awkward to just openly claim it, but after a deep breath I nodded. “Yeah.”
“I’ve heard the rumors … now I understand why you never backed down. Ever.”
It was almost eight o’clock when I got home. We’d been delayed when Johnny used his cell phone to let Nana know they had me back safe. As he spoke to her, I remembered the Omori had taken the necklace with Beau’s charm, the protrepticus, my satellite phone, and my purse in the kidnapping. We had to make a stop at the den to collect them. Kirk and Todd dealt with the awkward situation while we waited in the parking area.
“How’d you make the Rege think he’d … hurt … you, when he hadn’t?”
The word he couldn’t bring himself to say was “rape.” “That’s a question for Menessos. It was almost like I mesmerized him. I told him he was finished, to leave. In his mind, I guess, ‘finished’ meant ‘mission accomplished.’” I paused, rubbing at my goose egg.
“I should take you to the ER.”
“I’m fine. Ever figure out how they got past your security to the second floor?” I asked.
“They flashed their official IDs at the guards. While the doc was stitching me up the other day, I gave the order to make sure we were complying with whatever the Rege’s people needed. The guards thought they were adhering to my order. Now they know better: no one is allowed entrance without checking with me first, not even the Zvonul. The Rege and the Omori may think compliance means they run the den, but not this den.”
Todd and Kirk returned. My stuff was no worse for wear.
The bad news was that Johnny, Todd, and Kirk had decided they needed a private meeting, at Todd’s house, to discuss among themselves their bylaws, options, and what could be done about the Rege. Todd made it clear he didn’t want their conversation to occur at my home.
I suggested they give Beau a call and ask him about pack lore. Beau may be a Bindspoken witch, but he had the trust of the former dirija and he knew an awful lot about everything. He’d told me he’d had cause to do “an enormous amount” of research. That was how he had been able to recognize me as the Lustrata, and how he’d been able to manipulate me into helping him. He’d made me promise to come and see him before the next full moon, which was still three weeks away.
Johnny drove me home, but before we got out of the Audi, I asked him to tell Beau that I’d stop by and see him soon.
“Have I got competition?” he asked, affecting innocence and shock.
“Of course not.” I leaned to kiss him.
His lips were gentle against mine. “Sure you don’t want to go to the ER and get checked out?”
“It’s nothing ibuprofen and an ice pack won’t fix.”
He touched my cheek again, tenderly. “You’re going to have a shiner.”
“I think our combat training needs to start again.”
“Deal.”
I moved to get out, but he stopped me with a touch.
“I could have lost you today.”
The fear in his tone made me instinctively want to lighten his load. Sarcasm was in order. “Sucks, huh?”
“Yeah.” One side of his mouth crooked up, adorably. I rubbed his cleft chin and pulled him to me for another kiss, this one lasting long enough to run my fingers through his hair, forceful enough to notice the evening stubble on his chin, and sensual enough to set my heart pounding.