His lips were soft, yet firm, as they pressed to mine. I trembled, and his arms encircled me. Heat brimmed within me. My eyes had shut again, and I thought of the motorcycle ride, of swaying to the hum of the engine. But this, this was face-to-face, this was our bodies pressed together—Goddess, I held him tight—and the roaring music was my heart pounding in my ears.

His arms were so strong around my waist and when he broke the kiss he didn’t loosen his hold. We stood, foreheads pressed together, catching our breath. “That’s one,” he said. “Ninety-nine to go.”

“And when those ninety-nine are all gone?”

He straightened. “Then I’m going to ask you for the promise of another hundred.”

The look I gave him was teasingly skeptical, but he became serious. “Don’t you know that I would give my life to protect yours?” he asked. His warm hands left my waist to take my wrists and pull my palms to his face. “To protect the Lustrata.” He kissed each palm in turn. “I’ve looked for you for so long.”

Looked for me?

“The first time I saw you, I knew.” He squeezed my hands. “I felt it. And I knew in time, you would know it too.” He caressed my cheek. “I’m not wrong.”

Even if I didn’t believe it, he did. The convinced fierceness in his eyes wasn’t scary at all.

“Johnny? Did you find her?” Nana’s voice trickled in from outside.

We both turned as she stepped into view atop the cellar steps.

“Yeah. I found her,” he said.

Nana put her hands on her hips and scowled at us, but it wasn’t a very convincing scowl.

Chapter 19

For further protection, Nana placed empowered sage in each window, with a sprinkling of salt on the sills. She even had Johnny hammer two nails into the wall above my front door and then wired my broom to the nails. For my part, I moved Vivian’s 40 Winks bottle and my baseball bat to the corner closest to the front door.

Beverley wanted to sit with Theo, so she was taking my turn for a while. This was a good thing, because I was too anxious to sit still. I showered and debated over what to wear for the ritual. I sifted through my closet for several minutes, searching. My first thought was to dress formally, to show respect for the religious ceremony I was about to lead. The more the thought rolled around inside my head, however, I realized that would be furthering a witchy stereotype. So, since I didn’t have any flowing and billowing gowns or hooded capes, and since I didn’t need to impress the attendees with such things anyway, I chose clothing that would simply be comfortable: faded old jeans, sneakers, and, for fun, a girly black T-shirt with the Superman symbol on it in blood red. If they wanted to think of me as the Lustrata, then I could wear a hero’s pentagonal symbol to the ritual.

Still filled with nervous energy, I decided to run the sweeper. The floor didn’t need it, but I had to do something. That’s what I was doing when the sun slipped under the horizon. I felt it go, felt its protection leave me, felt the threat of vampires waking up. My imagination, to be sure, but my stress level rose again nonetheless.

After putting the sweeper away, wiping out the sink in the bathroom, and making sure there were clean towels, I was going to check on Theo when, from the living room, I heard Celia ask Nana, “Demeter, would you tell me about the author of that book? I’m curious about her story and the wære she loved.”

There was a pause; then I heard Nana say, “Come. Sit.” I couldn’t see her expression, but it didn’t sound like she was being derogatory. I sat on the top step and listened.

“This story is in this book along with the spells, but I learned it long ago…. At the dawn of civilization, in Uruk, one of the most ancient of cities, the high priestess Una performed her sacred duties with great devotion and was favored by the goddess Ishtar.”

Nana was obviously reciting from memory more than telling the story in her own words.

“One day a foreign magician, Ezreniel, came to Uruk. He served a god previously unknown to its people. A man of great physical stature, strong of eye and voice, he came to the high priestess and she looked upon him with pleasure.

“But Ezreniel insisted the strange and solitary god he worshipped was the only god and that Una must forsake her goddess and all gods. It was customary to honor the gods of other lands, but to insist she reject her own was beyond toleration.

“Una refused to allow Ezreniel further access to her person.

“Ezreniel, however, was not so easily deterred. He bribed his way into the temple where Una lived and served. There, in secret, he watched her. Like his god, he was of an intemperate and jealous nature. He was angered that Una looked upon other men with the favor he had been denied.

“One night when two priests, both her lovers, came to Una, Ezreniel could contain himself no longer. He burst into her chambers, where the three were engaged in full and intimate worship of Ishtar. Both men leapt to defend and protect Una, but they were no match for Ezreniel. One he beat back until the man lay broken and bloody on the floor, whimpering like a starving street mongrel. The other he held in his crushing grasp. Unable to wrench his arms free, the man bit at Ezreniel’s neck, drawing blood before he, too, was cast aside, limp and unconscious.

“Una came to the aid of her lovers as they battled and, with a desperate prayer to Ishtar, she plunged a dagger deep into Ezreniel’s chest.

“For an instant he stilled. Then he looked at his hands—covered with the blood of both men—and laughed. Stunned, unable to move, Una watched as he pulled the dagger from his chest and, wiping it across his palm, cleaned his own blood from its blade. Rubbing his hands together, he mixed the three bloods together, chanting in his foreign tongue.

“He flung his right hand outward at the first man, splattering the red fluid on his brow, saying, ‘I curse thee by the sun.’ He thrust his left hand at the second man. Drops of blood splashed across the man’s chest. ‘I curse thee by the moon.’ He turned to Una, lurched forward, and grabbed her face in his hands. ‘And I curse thee for loving them both and thereby sealing your doom.’

“Ezreniel then collapsed, smearing blood down Una’s face and naked body, saying, ‘The curse of three, sealed by me, by my blood and by my death. The curse of three, sealed by me, the reward of my last breath.’

“In that moment, as the curse was realized, lightning struck the temple, shattering it into falling shards of mud-brick. And although none could know at the time, the fate of the world changed. Ezreniel’s god would gain power and wield it. Ishtar, her temple in ruins and her beloved priestess—”

“There’s a group pulling into the drive,” Erik interrupted. I hadn’t known he was listening too but as I moved down the steps, I realized he had been standing near the opening to the dining room and had a clear view out the front window.

I hurried to the front door and saw an entourage flowing into my driveway. A limousine that—despite the fading light—I’d have guessed to be silver, escorted by four motorcycles, two each at the front and the rear. The motorcyclists cut their engines and put down kickstands, but none removed their helmets or got off their bikes. The limousine’s far rear door opened, and Goliath slid out. His pale hair shimmered; he shot a look toward the house and grinned. The driver, in a neat black suit and cap, jumped out and hurried back to open the door on the near side of the limo. The man who emerged very literally stole my breath.

Longish wavy hair, the color of shelled walnuts, fell around his square face with careless perfection. His beard, trimmed thin on the sides, accented every angle, and he wore it a bit thicker on his pointed chin to balance the squareness of his jaw. A narrow nose above thin lips added to the austere quality of his face. Broad shoulders and a tailored suit enhanced his lean, masculine image.