“Try telling that to guys like Dallas and his buddies. Their level of assholeness is a lot higher than Blake’s.”
Dragon’s look reminded Kevin of a storm. “With our High Priestess’s permission I will do a lot more than try to tell them. Anastasia, I would like to meet with all the officers and sergeants. I’ll call it a debriefing. In truth what I will do is give them a reality check they won’t soon forget.”
“You have my permission. Make a list of the names of the vampyres you believe need to be temporarily removed from any type of Warrior duty. Perhaps we should create a retreat for them where they can reconnect with Nyx.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea. I’ll get on it immediately,” Dragon said. “Kevin, I’d appreciate your help. Do you have other names besides Dallas?”
“Yeah, there’s a whole group of them. I’ll help you out with it.”
Anastasia bowed her head slightly and said, “Thank you, Kevin. Sword Master, please let me know if it would help if I spoke to the Warriors. It sounds naïve to say it aloud, but I am shocked that there are factions within our people who want war. We have much more work to do as a people than I anticipated. But we will get it done, and the House of Night will return to Nyx’s path—a path that does not lead to senseless bloodshed and a war that only benefits bullies.” Anastasia expelled a long breath. “I think that’s enough for one meeting. I’m going to visit with as many of the Red Army members as possible. I’ll see if I can comfort and reassure them.”
Professor P spoke up. “I would like to come with you, High Priestess. Many of those vampyres were once my English students. Perhaps seeing my familiar face will be some comfort to them too.”
“Excellent idea. We all have much to do. Let us reconvene in three days. Merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again. And may we all blessed be.”
10
Other Lynette
Lynette had steeled herself for a nightmare eleven-hour drive from London to Balmacara Mains but was pleasantly surprised. Once they were out of London and the smooth-riding limo was eating up the miles to the highlands, Neferet curled up and seemed to be asleep for almost the entire way, leaving Lynette to coordinate the B&B’s preparations and then to stress about how the hell she was going to get Mrs. Muir and her small staff to understand the danger they were in if they betrayed Neferet without the vampyre making an example out of another Ed.
The vampyre …
But was Neferet truly just a vampyre? Lynette was smart and apt. She’d educated herself about vampyres. She’d observed. She’d researched. She had never once heard of anything even remotely like the snaky children that were completely loyal to Neferet. Vampyres loved cats. Sometimes horses. But always cats. And Neferet had said no cat had ever chosen her, yet snakelike tendrils swarmed to her.
What did it all mean? Could she truly be powerful enough to become immortal? A living goddess?
Lynette stared at Neferet as she slept. The tendrils winked in and out of sight. They appeared to sleep wrapped around the vampyre, as if she rested in the center of a nest made especially for her. Lynette wasn’t disgusted by them. Snakes had never bothered her—just like mice and rats and bugs had never frightened her. She’d always thought being squeamish about such things was a pathetic affect some women put on hoping to be saved by a knight in shining armor.
She’d learned early there was no such thing as a knight or a savior—in shining armor or a halo. Lynette saved herself—and that’s how she preferred it. That was why she’d made the decision on the jet that she would pledge herself into the service of Neferet. Yes, she’d been defeated by other vampyres and was obviously on the run—and still Neferet commanded more power and more money than anyone Lynette had ever known. So, Lynette had gone all in. She’d chosen a side—and that side was firmly with Neferet.
Of course if the vampyre proved to be insane or deluded, or simply less powerful than she appeared, and was overthrown—well, then Lynette would reevaluate and figure out a plan B. Hopefully, plan B wouldn’t have to be invoked—and if it did it would be after Neferet had gifted her with her villa and wealth, but until then Lynette had every intention of serving Neferet with the loyalty, intelligence, and respect the vampyre deserved.
They arrived at Balmacara Mains a little after 2 a.m. Lynette was pleased to see that the B&B was as secluded as her swift research had led her to believe. The single-lane road that wrapped past the entrance was framed by an old Scotts pine forest on the land side, and Loch Alsh and what she’d read would be a majestic view during daylight of the Isle of Skye on the other. The B&B had a few outbuildings but seemed self-contained and perfectly private.
“This is a good beginning,” Neferet said as she peered out the tinted window to the B&B. “It’s all lit up. They’re obviously awake, just as you instructed them to be.”
“So far Mrs. Muir has proven to be highly competent,” Lynette said, though her stomach was a pit of nerves because she’d also proven to be highly stubborn and opinionated.
“Ah, look! They’re lining up outside to greet me. That is a lovely old-world touch.” Neferet stroked several of the tendrils as she spoke. Then the car slid to a smooth halt and she added, “Children, do keep yourselves well hidden unless I command otherwise. Frightening the help is not necessary. Yet.”
Lynette had texted Muir just a few minutes before, letting her know that she and the two staff members must be outside and lined up for their arrival. She allowed herself a small sigh of relief as she exited the limo and nodded to the gray-haired, thick-waisted woman who stood first in line before two much younger girls. “Mrs. Muir?”
“Aye, ’tis myself.”
“I assume all is ready?”
“Weel, as ready as we could manage in the short—”
“Good.” Lynette cut her off as she walked around the limo to open Neferet’s door. “Remember that ‘my lady’ is the correct form of address.” She didn’t wait for a response but opened Neferet’s door.
The vampyre emerged gracefully from the limo while Lynette retrieved her travel bag from the trunk and waved the limo driver away, then she trailed behind Neferet as she approached the entrance and the staff waiting to greet her.
Mrs. Muir bobbed an arthritic curtsy. “Me lady, welcome to Balmacara Mains. I am Mrs. Muir—owner and cook. This is yer housekeep, Noreen, and yer maid, wee Denise.” The girls curtsied, keeping their eyes turned down.
“What a lovely greeting. Thank you, Mrs. Muir. I am going to freshen.” Neferet paused and met Lynette’s gaze. They shared a secret smile before she turned back to the staff. “Then there is something I must do. Whilst I freshen, which will take no longer than one hour, I need you to pour wine, honey, and salt into three different bowls. Add a fourth bowl, but it should be empty. Something earthy and quaint will do nicely. Oh, and do add a loaf of fresh bread as well. You bake all of your own bread, do you not?”
“Aye, we do,” said the old woman.
“Perfect. I will need a lovely tray covered by expensive lace to place the bowls on. I will also require a meal.”
Lynette watched Neferet consider the two girls as possible feeders and saw the moment she rejected them both. Relieved she’d planned ahead, Lynette spoke up.
“My lady, I need only make a call and a proper feeder will be here within the hour.”
“How very competent of you, my dear. An hour is perfect. Have—” Neferet paused, considered, then continued. “Have him wait out of the way until I am ready. And now I would like to go to my suite.”
“Wee Denise, take Herself to the grand suite.”
Denise bobbed another nervous curtsy and then led them into the manor. Lynette fixed her face into a pleasant but mostly expressionless mask. She decided quickly that the house, which had obviously once been considered the great house of a country estate, had been overenthusiastically decorated in what some might call quaint country.<
br />
Lynette called it threadbare and cluttered, and she was immensely relieved when wee Denise opened the door to a suite that, though modestly sized and decorated in homespun, was tidy and smelled of lavender. The new blackout drapes had been pulled aside and the little maid was quick to rush to them and point out that the grand suite overlooked the Isle of Skye.
“Adequate,” Neferet said, waving the maid away. Looking relieved, the girl scurried from the room.
“I want you to choose a room close, but not adjoining. I was not exaggerating when I said I insist on privacy.”
“Of course, my lady. This thing you must do—should I be sure a car is made ready for our use?”
“Oh, no, my dear. I need only walk to the water, but you may join me. I believe you will find it quite interesting. Now, where is my bathroom suite?”
The room wasn’t large enough to make it much of a search, but the bathroom was surprisingly well appointed. The tub was oversized and there was a separate, modern shower.
“Well, I suppose it will do.” Neferet frowned at the room. “You may go now, Lynette. I know you must procure my feeder. I will freshen and then meet you downstairs in that little drawing room we passed on the way up here—the one with the fireplace.”
“Yes, my lady. Do you need anything else at this time?”
“No, but I can tell you that I will be ravenous after I finish my errand, so be sure the feeder is here—and be quite sure he is young and attractive.”
“I would never consider any less for you.”
“Thank you. And, Lynette, you did well to set all of this in order in such a short time. You should know that I never forget a service well done—just as I never forget a slight.”
“I would expect no less from a goddess.”
Neferet’s smile was so beautiful Lynette couldn’t help but stare.
The vampyre went to her and touched her cheek gently before kissing her softly on the lips. “Lynette, you are a jewel discovered exactly when I needed to be dazzled.”
Lynette felt an unexpected rush of emotion and she had to blink back tears. “I am your devoted handmaid, my lady.” She curtsied and hurried from the room, pausing outside the door to collect herself before she went back into the main part of the manor to call the feeder and be sure Mrs. Muir didn’t screw up Neferet’s requests.
Why did she want bowls with wine, honey, and salt in them? What was Neferet planning?
Better not to think about it. Better to focus on making everything as perfect as possible—keep her head down—survive and thrive …
Other Neferet
During most of the drive from London to the B&B, Neferet had been in a deep, meditative state where she had been focusing on lifting from her memory everything she’d ever learned about Old Magick and the sprites that were so closely allied with it. Her remembrance had made her decision. Neferet would not hesitate. She would not prevaricate or procrastinate. The sprites needed to be wooed, and she would begin her courtship of them immediately.
Neferet readied herself carefully. She bathed, anointing herself with the essence of heather—one of the items Lynette had made certain waited in her boudoir. Neferet left her hair loose so that it cascaded around her waist. She chose to wear a long, sheer nightgown that was really more a diaphanous version of a Victorian chemise—sleeveless, with a low neckline and volumes of sheer silk that pooled around her ankles. She chose her single piece of jewelry even more carefully, finally draping a fat, blood-colored ruby set in platinum around her neck. It nestled between her breasts. She pressed her hand over it in a fond farewell, remembering Loren Blake, the vapid but handsome vampyre lover who had gifted it to her many years ago when he’d first become smitten with her.
“I wonder if you spoke out for me.” The ruby felt warm against her palm. “Or did you follow the traitor Stark’s lead and betray me too?” Neferet shrugged and made the final applications to her dramatic makeup. She’d painted her eyes as the ancient Egyptians used to—heavy with kohl—so that they appeared even larger and more jewel-like. Studying herself in the floor-to-ceiling bathroom mirror, Neferet decided she was ready.
“Children! Make yourselves visible to me.”
Instantly the nest of ebony tendrils appeared. They covered her king-size bed and dripped off the sides of it to cascade onto the floor. Each of them turned their eyeless faces to her as she spoke lovingly to them.
“Darlings, it begins this night. We court power—and that means we must woo the sprites so that I gain them as allies and win access to Old Magick and immortality. The White Bull said that sprites are curious—that they like to be intrigued. Then let us put on a show for them like nothing they have ever before witnessed because I am like nothing that has ever been—nor ever will be again. Come with me, children, but remain invisible until I command you appear.”
Neferet slid on cashmere slippers and swept from the suite. She could feel her children all about her and knew they would not fail. Lynette was in the drawing room, sitting before a cheery fire with a tea service set out for her, though she wasn’t sipping from the porcelain cup or nibbling on the biscuits. Instead she was tapping away—this time on her laptop and not her iPad. The instant she saw Neferet she stood and curtsied quickly. Neferet saw her take in the fact that she was practically naked, though the human woman maintained what Neferet had come to think of as her stoic expression.
“My lady! How may I serve you?”
“I need the tray that I asked the cook to fill with the offerings.”
“Mrs. Muir!” Lynette called.
Neferet frowned as the old woman ambled into the room. “Aye?” She bobbled a quick curtsy.
“My lady needs the tray she asked you prepare for her,” said Lynette.
Mrs. Muir nodded, threw Neferet a baffled glance that took in her loose hair and sheer nightgown, and then disappeared back through the swinging door that obviously led to the kitchen area.
“Get a bell. Something you can ring to call her. I cannot abide shouting,” said Neferet.
“Yes, my lady.”
Mrs. Muir returned with the tray, covered in fine lace and laden with three filled bowls and one that was empty. “Shall I put this in the dining room for ye, my—”
“Give it to Lynette,” Neferet said. “I’ll need a lantern or candle.”
“We have a torch I can get ye.”
“Torch? That would be lovely! Much better than a candle and so much more authentic.”
When Muir said nothing, but only looked confused, Lynette spoke up. “Mrs. Muir, do you truly mean a torch—with a live flame?”
The old woman chortled, her thick stomach wobbling. “No! ’Tis a flashlight I be meaning!” She laughed some more.
“Do you have a lantern or a covered candle?” Lynette’s no-nonsense voice cut through Muir’s merriment.
“Aye. I have an auld thing in the cellar.”
Neferet spoke in short, clipped sentences. “Get it. Light it. Bring it to the front of the manor. Be sure the girls are with you. You will not come with us, but there is something I want all of you to witness.” She motioned, and Lynette took the tray and followed her to the front door where the vampyre paused, waiting for the two girls to join the cook.
The night was cold. The low-hanging fog had cleared and the moon had risen. It was waning, but the sky was filled with stars so brilliant that they illuminated the water that stretched beyond the road, turning it to mercury. Mounds of more shadow lurked beyond the liquid silver, relieved by only a few lights that did little to lift the darkness. As the three women joined them, Neferet asked, “Mrs. Muir, I assume that darkness across the water is the Isle of Skye.”
“Och, aye.” She handed a rusty lantern to Neferet. Its flame burned brightly within the dusty glass jail.
“Excellent. Remain here on the porch. You need do nothing more than observe. When I a
m finished you may retire. I will not require your services until after sunset tomorrow.” Neferet didn’t wait for a response but turned to Lynette. “Come with me, my dear.”
Ignoring the cold and what Neferet decided already would be the perpetual dampness of this wretched country, the vampyre strode across the small parking lot to the narrow blacktop that passed for a highland road. She crossed it quickly, navigating down a small ditch that emptied to a rocky shoreline. Neferet slowed then, picking carefully around and over rocks and sea debris. The night smelled of fish and mud and salt. By the time Neferet reached the water, she had decided she was unimpressed. She much preferred a coastline that was more civilized.
She paused at the edge of the water, setting down the lantern. She stepped out of her cashmere slippers, kicking them behind her where Lynette stood quietly holding the tray. “Please keep my slippers with you and dry. I abhor damp feet.” Neferet shrugged out of the nightgown, stepping delicately from the silk. “And my chemise as well.” Naked except for the ruby, Neferet lifted the lantern with one hand and held out the other to take the tray from Lynette.
“My lady, would it be easier if I came with you and carried the tray?”
“Dear Lynette, that is kind of you, but this is something you cannot help me with. It begins now—my quest for divinity. Await me here.”
Holding the lantern high with her right hand and balancing the tray on her left hip, Neferet walked to the waterline, halting only when the cold, dark loch lapped around her ankles. She stood perfectly still as she concentrated, opening herself to the night.
Instantly she felt the pulse of power. It was rich, thick, and hidden—like a vein of gold nestled beneath the surface. It undulated from the tenebrous mound of land that obscured the distant horizon. It reminded her of the power she felt when she cast a circle, but so much more. As she would have during a circle-casting, Neferet gathered the power, calling it to her with the force of her will. When she felt a tiny spark—an electric thrill that said the energy acknowledged and responded to her, no matter how sluggishly, Neferet began.
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