crackled under the tires. With a low rev, he drove away. In the next instant I mentally checked my perimeter wards; all set. I’d increase the perimeter tomorrow.
Johnny stood in the doorway to the living room. The forty-watt hall light silhouetted him as he reached up to place his hands on the molding over the entryway. A physique-enhancing stretch, it made for a very nice silhouette. A handsome darkness, a living shadow, watching me like the savage predator he was deep down inside.
If only Nana hadn’t outed me.
The stain I still carried—“a filthy vampire’s mark” as Celia had once called it—made me feel repugnant in his sight. That’s why I didn’t want him to know. I’d wanted him to see me, not the stain.
When I first met Johnny, all I saw was his ominous tattoos, not him . I’d been shallow and unfair. Johnny wasn’t either of those, but knowing that the connection between Menessos and me still existed might be more than he could handle.
“Red?”
“Yeah?”
“Demeter has a point.”
I hadn’t expected the Eximium to still be the subject at hand. “I know.” I yawned, then stretched. “I just wish she didn’t have to make her points the way she does.”
He eased into the living room to share the darkened space with me, but my serene room suddenly felt like a jail cell. He might ease into it, but we were going to talk about my stain . It was unavoidable now.
His hands slipped into his pockets. “I want to start sparring with you.”
“You fight a lot?” I asked. Bands, bars, beer, and wærewolves. It wouldn’t take much to start an all-out brawl.
“With the exception of that vamp, not lately.”
That vamp.
“That wasn’t a good example,” he said quietly. Johnny hadn’t done so well in that fight, but he’d healed in three days. “He’s not a normal enemy.”
“Master vampire-wizard. No, not exactly an everyday sort of guy.”
His shoulders slumped. Johnny seemed to take my words as if I were complimenting the manipulating bastard. Or maybe his ego still smarted remembering how badly he’d been beaten. “We need to make sure you’re ready, as the Lustrata, for this contest.”
Despite my longing for his touch and knowing how sparring would give us an excuse to be close, I had to admit, “I’m sure there’s not going to be hand-to-hand combat in the competition for high priestess.”
“I understand that, but the martial arts gives you a mental edge. That couldn’t hurt.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“When is your Eximium?”
“Starts at dawn this Saturday.”
He calculated. “Three days isn’t enough time,” he whispered as he pulled his hands from his pockets.
“Why do I have to be ready ‘as the Lustrata’?”
He came and sat next to me with safe inches between us, hands on his thighs, fingers galloping. “I thought if you knock this other woman out in the early running and then win, you could bow out at the end and announce that you are the Lustrata. Win-win.”
My shoulders tensed even tighter. “No. I’m not going to announce anything. Just because I’ve come to believe it doesn’t mean the Elders are just going to accept my word. Anyone could make that claim. Simply claiming to be something doesn’t make it true—or you’d have been a mega–rock star a long time ago.”
He acquiesced with a grin. “You mean I’m not?”
The glow from the candle warmed the colors of his face and gleamed on the curls of his dark hair. The Wedjat tattoos became less like art and more like shadow.
“You’ll have to announce it sometime.”
“Why? Why can’t I just do this incognito? WEC will probably have some test for me to take as verification or to use as a means to denounce me. Or, worse, they’ll examine me like a bug under a microscope. I don’t want that, Johnny.”
He considered it. “How about we plan to evaluate tomorrow morning, form a plan, and just hit it? Withonly a few days to consider your strengths and weaknesses, what to
Johnny stood in the doorway to the living room. The forty-watt hall light silhouetted him as he reached up to place his hands on the molding over the entryway. A physique-enhancing stretch, it made for a very nice silhouette. A handsome darkness, a living shadow, watching me like the savage predator he was deep down inside.
If only Nana hadn’t outed me.
The stain I still carried—“a filthy vampire’s mark” as Celia had once called it—made me feel repugnant in his sight. That’s why I didn’t want him to know. I’d wanted him to see me, not the stain.
When I first met Johnny, all I saw was his ominous tattoos, not him . I’d been shallow and unfair. Johnny wasn’t either of those, but knowing that the connection between Menessos and me still existed might be more than he could handle.
“Red?”
“Yeah?”
“Demeter has a point.”
I hadn’t expected the Eximium to still be the subject at hand. “I know.” I yawned, then stretched. “I just wish she didn’t have to make her points the way she does.”
He eased into the living room to share the darkened space with me, but my serene room suddenly felt like a jail cell. He might ease into it, but we were going to talk about my stain . It was unavoidable now.
His hands slipped into his pockets. “I want to start sparring with you.”
“You fight a lot?” I asked. Bands, bars, beer, and wærewolves. It wouldn’t take much to start an all-out brawl.
“With the exception of that vamp, not lately.”
That vamp.
“That wasn’t a good example,” he said quietly. Johnny hadn’t done so well in that fight, but he’d healed in three days. “He’s not a normal enemy.”
“Master vampire-wizard. No, not exactly an everyday sort of guy.”
His shoulders slumped. Johnny seemed to take my words as if I were complimenting the manipulating bastard. Or maybe his ego still smarted remembering how badly he’d been beaten. “We need to make sure you’re ready, as the Lustrata, for this contest.”
Despite my longing for his touch and knowing how sparring would give us an excuse to be close, I had to admit, “I’m sure there’s not going to be hand-to-hand combat in the competition for high priestess.”
“I understand that, but the martial arts gives you a mental edge. That couldn’t hurt.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“When is your Eximium?”
“Starts at dawn this Saturday.”
He calculated. “Three days isn’t enough time,” he whispered as he pulled his hands from his pockets.
“Why do I have to be ready ‘as the Lustrata’?”
He came and sat next to me with safe inches between us, hands on his thighs, fingers galloping. “I thought if you knock this other woman out in the early running and then win, you could bow out at the end and announce that you are the Lustrata. Win-win.”
My shoulders tensed even tighter. “No. I’m not going to announce anything. Just because I’ve come to believe it doesn’t mean the Elders are just going to accept my word. Anyone could make that claim. Simply claiming to be something doesn’t make it true—or you’d have been a mega–rock star a long time ago.”
He acquiesced with a grin. “You mean I’m not?”
The glow from the candle warmed the colors of his face and gleamed on the curls of his dark hair. The Wedjat tattoos became less like art and more like shadow.
“You’ll have to announce it sometime.”
“Why? Why can’t I just do this incognito? WEC will probably have some test for me to take as verification or to use as a means to denounce me. Or, worse, they’ll examine me like a bug under a microscope. I don’t want that, Johnny.”
He considered it. “How about we plan to evaluate tomorrow morning, form a plan, and just hit it? Withonly a few days to consider your strengths and weaknesses, what to
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