Make Me (37 page)

Pia looked bewildered, as did everyone else. The Underground hadn’t named a Paladin in decades, so people didn’t know what the position entailed. Micah explained, “The Paladin is an ancient position that hasn’t been used in modern times. The leader’s Paladin functions as his right hand, defending demonkind, protecting the weak, and meting out justice as the circle wills.”

And it was certainly better than turning someone into a Memory Eater. Everyone stared at Pia. Those who didn’t know her seemed stunned that such a slip of a girl could merit the title of Paladin, but Micah knew it was a good choice.

Annie bowed to Pia again. “Will you serve?”

Pia glanced uncertainly at David and must have seen something in his eyes, because she nodded fiercely.

Micah glanced down at the next line in the book. “Soothsayers, what is the circle’s will? Who shall act?”

Annie turned to face the outsiders. “A Lethe is not necessary. None shall act.”

“The Lethe is the proper term for how Elspeth served us,” Micah explained. “But we called her Memory Eater.”

There were gasps around the circle, and expressions of relief when they realized no one here would have to fill that role.

“The Naming is complete,” Annie said. “So as it has been, so it shall always be.”

The circle murmured the words back at her and Annie returned to the center, facing Tessa once again.

“Now we shall have a Naming Ritual for the San Antonio Underground,” Micah said. This was it. The last moment he would have this position. Regret filled him as he wished he’d made different choices, wished he’d been a better leader for them. He planned to offer the new leader all the support he could, give him or her the benefit of his experience, both the successes and the failures.

Taking a deep breath, he repeated the opening words of the ritual and asked, “Soothsayers, what is the circle’s will? Who shall lead?”

Tessa and Annie bowed their heads and paused, the longest pause of his life. Then Tessa stepped away from the fire and spoke. “In these troubled times, the people seek strength and protection, but also compassion, humility, and a willingness to serve. One amongst you has learned these lessons well.”

She turned to face Micah and his hopes rose. Was she looking at him or someone behind him? He couldn’t tell.

“The people name Micah Blackburn.” She bowed to him. “You are called to lead. Will you serve?”

TOLD YA, Fang said in his mind.

Micah froze, stunned. At this moment, he felt unworthy, undeserving of this honor. Surely someone else would be a better leader.

NO, Fang said. THEY WANT YOU.

Micah bowed his head. Leading the Underground was a privilege, but a great responsibility, too. Could he do it?
Should
he do it?

It was rare that people were given a second chance in life, a chance to correct their mistakes. And if they thought he was the best, who was he to argue with the collective mind?

Feeling humbled by their faith in him, Micah let his voice ring out strong and true. “I would be honored.”

Tessa turned toward another part of the circle, away from me. “It is rare that anyone has the strength, balance, and fortitude to become a Lethe, but there is one such here tonight. The people name—”

“No,” I shouted again. “You can’t do that.” No one should ever have to endure what Elspeth had. How could they contemplate dooming a fellow demon to eternal insanity? It wasn’t right.

People looked horrified, and the energy wobbled again. I wasn’t sure if it was because I’d messed up their stupid ritual again, or because they realized any one of them could be a Memory Eater. Whatever the reason, I didn’t care.

Tessa turned toward me. “Do you agree to serve as Paladin?” she asked, sounding implacable, not at all like the Tessa I knew.

“No.” Hadn’t I already answered that question?

“Then we must choose a Lethe.”

She turned away, and I noticed she was staring right at Shade. Holy crap. I couldn’t let her turn him into a Memory Eater like Elspeth. “No,” I said again. “We don’t need either one of them. Ask Micah.”

He wouldn’t answer, but looked to Tessa. He was leader now. Why didn’t he answer himself?

HE CAN LEAD EVERYWHERE BUT THE CIRCLE, Fang told me. THERE, THE SOOTHSAYER HOLDS SWAY.

Tessa answered instead. “The circle has spoken. It must be one or the other.”

“Can’t you choose another Paladin?” I pleaded.

“There is no other,” Tessa said with no emotion in her voice. “You must choose.”

Crap, crap, crap. Why me? I didn’t want to be Paladin, didn’t want to be executioner, but I didn’t want to doom Shade to the hell of being a Lethe, either.

Wait, maybe there was an out, a way to force her to choose another Paladin. “How can I be Paladin, when I’m already keeper of the
Encyclopedia Magicka
?”

“One does not preclude the other,” Tessa intoned. “It makes you more eligible, not less.”

I glanced wildly around and saw Austin. “I can’t. I have a contract with the vampires. It would be a… a…” What was the term? “A conflict of interest,” I finished triumphantly.

Austin rose, and at a nod from Tessa giving him permission to speak, he said, “There is no conflict of interest. The contract ended when you stopped the chupacabra menace, per our agreement.”

Damn it, why didn’t he back me on this?

HE WOULDN’T WANT A LETHE EITHER, Fang said. IT MEANS A VAMPIRE WILL GO INSANE, TOO.

I’d forgotten about that part.

Then Austin had to add insult to injury. “The New Blood Movement approves of Val Shapiro’s level head in this important position.”

I shook my head. “If the contract is void, that means I go back to working for the Special Crimes Unit.”

This time Dan rose and asked for permission to speak. Good—he’d confirm it.

Tessa nodded at him and Dan said, “I’m sorry, Val, we thought there was an unspoken understanding. With your efforts in cleaning up San Antonio, the rogue vampire threat is much less. And the other scuzzies feel uncomfortable working beside you. Once you accepted the contract with the vampires, Lt Ramirez had to make a hard decision. You have been terminated, without prejudice.”

Damn it, I didn’t even have a job now? Grasping at straws, I said, “But… but without a job, how can I pay for my half of the townhouse? Gwen will have to go it alone. I can’t leave her in the lurch.”

Tessa nodded at Gwen this time. Gwen had to come through for me.

“I’m sorry, Val,” my roomie said. “I’ll have to give up the townhouse now that I’m… now that I’ve changed. Austin has promised me a place in the mansion.”

I couldn’t believe this. Would no one back me? I looked at Fang.

SORRY, BABE, BUT I AGREE WITH THEM. YOU ARE THE BEST PERSON FOR THE JOB.

“So I’ll be homeless and jobless,” I snapped. Back to where I started. “What kind of Paladin would that make?”

Micah shook his head. “Club Purgatory belongs to the organization, not to me. The leader’s salary comes from it as well as the Underground’s investments, as does the Mem—the Lethe’s. The Paladin’s would, too. You will always have a home with the Underground.”

I wanted to cry, rail and scream at the world, but all my protests had been refuted, shown for the lame excuses they really were. I didn’t want to make this decision, didn’t want to turn myself into an executioner. But I didn’t want to turn Shade into a Memory Eater, either. What would happen if I didn’t make a decision?

THAT’S THE SAME AS SAYING NO, Fang informed me. AND SHADE IS CHOSEN AS MEMORY EATER.

“You must choose,” Tessa repeated.

I closed my eyes. I couldn’t believe I was actually going to say this. Reluctantly, slowly, I said, “I accept the position of Paladin.”

Tessa nodded gravely. “A Lethe is not necessary. None shall act. So as it has been, so it shall always be.”

The circle, all but me, repeated the words, and, at the soothsayer’s bidding, everyone released their hands, the energy streaming into the night sky.

The others gathered around Micah and David to congratulate them, and Tessa and Annie emerged from their trances, asking what had happened. I wandered away from the crowd, apart, alone like always.

OH, STOP WITH THE PITY PARTY, Fang said in an annoyed tone. YOU’RE NOT ALONE. YOU HAVE ME AND MICAH. LOTS OF FRIENDS. BUCK UP, BABE. YOU’VE BEEN DOING THIS JOB ALL ALONG ANYWAY. NOW YOU’LL GET PAID FOR IT. WHAT’S SO BAD ABOUT THAT?

You know.

YEAH, BUT YOU DID THE RIGHT THING. YOU SAVED SHADE.

Yeah, once again the Slayer rode to her boyfriend’s rescue, emasculating him. I searched the crowd for him and found him off to one side. He was holding Princess, so I could see his face. It was stolid, uncompromising, promising he’d never forgive me for saving him, for not letting him make the decision for himself.

But if I’d done that, I’d never have been able to forgive myself.

He looked away, and pain stabbed through my chest. I didn’t regret the sacrifice, but was it even needed?
Would he have accepted the position?
I asked Fang.

HE WOULD HAVE, Fang informed me. HE’S THAT LOYAL TO THE UNDERGROUND.

Shade turned and walked away, and Princess looked over her shoulder at me. THANK YOU FOR SAVING MY HUMAN, she said simply, without a trace of her usual arrogance.

Whoa, Princess was polite? The world must be coming to an end.

Fang poked me in the leg. CUT IT OUT.

Okay, slight exaggeration.
It was just my own personal world that was coming to an end.

From the pavilion, someone called out, “Hey, everyone, it’s past midnight. Merry Christmas!”