“Aye, my lady.” Denise curtsied, and then she hesitated, looking awkward and unsure of herself.
“What is it?” Neferet asked.
“I dinnae mean to be a bother, but I overheard ye. I can get ye as much poison as ye need from my auld grannie. Just tell me how you’d like the person to sicken or die.”
“Your mistress didn’t ask you for any such thing.”
“Och no, of course Herself didnae.” Denise curtsied again and began to hurry from the room.
“Wait.” Neferet’s voice stopped her. “You understand if you ever told anyone that you gave me poison I would deny it, and then I would kill you.”
“Aye, mistress. I do.”
“And yet you still offer.”
“Aye. I ken you’d kill anyone who betrayed ye. I widnae. Ever.”
“But can’t the poison be traced back to your grandmother?” Lynette asked.
“Aye, and also aboot a thousand auld grannies in the Highlands.”
“But why would you put yourself and your grandmother at risk at all for Neferet?”
Denise blinked in surprise. “Because I believe in her.” She went to Neferet and stood nervously before the vampyre. “Mistress, I think you’re pure dead brilliant. Whatever it is yer plannin’—whatever it is yer becommin’—take me with ye. I would serve you till the end of my days.” Denise dropped to her knees and bowed her head.
Neferet gently lifted the girl to her feet and kissed her on each cheek and then softly on the mouth. “Henceforth, you shall be in my service. From now until the day you die. You are also under my protection. I take care of those loyal to me. And I shall take you up on your generous offer. I will need a lethal poison that dissolves easily in wine—champagne to be specific. It needs to be fast acting, but not too fast. Give the poison to Lynette. We’ll be leaving for our short trip at dusk.”
“Yes, my lady.” Denise curtsied deeply and hurried from the room.
“You trust her?” Lynette asked.
“Strangely, I do. And whether her reasons for swearing herself to me are self-serving or altruistic, I trust that she fears me enough not to betray me,” said Neferet. “Make the arrangements. I’ll need mundane clothes, though I cannot look like a peasant in London, so nothing I wear here will do. I know. Get me jeans.”
“Are you sure, my lady?”
Neferet shuddered. “It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. But also get me an exquisite cashmere sweater. And, sadly, dark glasses and a hat. Oh, and I will need makeup to cover my Mark.”
“Absolutely,” Lynette said as she made notes.
“But first, call that feeder. Give him a couple shots of single malt and send him to my room. I am famished.”
18
Other Kevin
Kevin was sitting on the bottom stair of the porch of the boys’ dormitory, thinking how glad he was Dragon had asked him to hang around the dorm tonight, because he didn’t think he could bear going back to his room, which wasn’t really his room. It was hers, and she wasn’t there anymore, which meant it wasn’t a room at all. It was a reminder of what he’d lost—what he could never have again.
He felt guilty. Lots of vampyres would love to change places with him—to have been given permission to live in the professors’ quarters of the House of Night without actually being a professor, and he was grateful. But the quarters he’d been given were Aphrodite’s. They were haunted with her things—her scent, her clothes, her memories—the ghost of her love. And just then he felt too raw to deal with ghosts.
“I thought you had a big, fancy room over in the professors’ quarters. Why you slummin’ over here?”
Dallas kicked the bottom stair, narrowly missing Kevin’s thigh.
“Dragon asked me to keep an eye on the red fledglings and vamps—and to be obvious about it. So, that’s what I’m doing.”
“Tell me somethin’—why shouldn’t we let ’em fry themselves? And I’m not bein’ a jerk. I’m serious. You’re the only red vamp I know who is even close to normal, and I know a bunch of ’em. Isn’t it meaner to keep them alive when they don’t want to be than it is to just let nature take its course?”
“Like suicide is natural?” Kevin made no attempt to hide his disgust.
“No, but what I mean is we should just let them do what they want to do. That’s natural.”
“That’s barbaric,” said Kevin.
Dallas shrugged. “They say war is too, but we’re in the middle of one.”
“No, we’re in the middle of a truce, trying to figure out a peaceful way to move forward.”
“Yeah, that’s what they keep sayin’. Whatever. Can you honestly tell me you like the way Tulsa is now better than when the war was going on?”
Kevin stared at Dallas. This is exactly what Blake was talking about when he threw his fit in the Council meeting. It’s people like Dallas who miss the war and want to keep it going. “Yeah, I can honestly tell you that I like the Tulsa where rabid red vampyres aren’t terrorizing the people and Neferet isn’t leading us into an apocalypse.”
Dallas snorted. “Apocalypse? Get real. Maybe for humans, but not for us. From where I stand, it was lots fucking better not to have to bow down to humans for a change. Even now, only about a third of the Utica Square businesses decided to stay open late for us—even though we sure as hell spend more money there than humans.”
“Really? I didn’t know you shopped at Saks and ate at restaurants like the Wild Fork and Stonehorse Café,” Kevin said sarcastically.
“Hey, how about you fuck yourself.”
“Hey, how about you repeat that shit you just spouted to Stark, or better yet, Dragon and Anastasia.”
Dallas started to swell up like one of those ugly fish that puff when they’re pissed and Kevin, reluctantly, readied himself to punch the douchebag in the face, but the giggles of girls interrupted as two blue fledglings approached the dorm. One girl was a blond with striking blue eyes and boobs that jiggled freely under a skintight white crop top. She was arm in arm with a black girl who, Kevin thought, looked like a queen with her hair all free and curling around her head, making her appear tall and regal—like she could take on the world and have fun doing it. The girls had their heads tilted together as they whispered and laughed. Kevin knew they seemed familiar but couldn’t quite remember their names. They stopped just before reaching Dallas and Kevin.
“Ladies, I see you got word about the party,” Dallas said.
Dallas’s smile was obviously a leer and Kevin did not understand why the white girl batted her eyes and gave him that smile—the one that said, Come and get it!
“We usually don’t go to lame school parties that are actually at the school,” said the white girl.
“Yeah, but what with the war and the—” the black girl began.
“The fucking awful inconveniences it causes, like having to stay on campus all the time, we decided to show up,” the white girl finished.
“Yeah, war is definitely inconvenient,” Kevin said. “Especially for the people who die fighting so you can be safe here on this campus.”
“Buzzkill,” said the white girl, rolling her eyes. “Dallas, would you show me to the keg?”
“I’ll show you anything you want to see, babe. And, get this—some of the art kids carved a double luge outta ice. They’re pouring shots down it. You have to catch them with your mouth.”
“Oooh, good thing my mouth is a professional!” The blond giggled and traded her friend’s arm for Dallas’s. The two headed up the stairs and she glanced over her shoulder. “Come on, Twin! A drink will make you less grumpy.”
Twin! That’s it! Man, my head is really messed up if it could forget Shaunee. And, of course her “twin” is Erin—the water to Shaunee’s fire.
“Just because I don’t agree with you about everything doesn’t mean I’m grumpy,” sa
id Shaunee.
“Twin! We’ve been over this before. We’re twins. That means we have to be together on this shit.”
“Well, it does mean something, that’s for sure. You go ahead. I’ll catch up. I want to talk to Kevin for a sec.”
“Don’t know why. He’s definitely not partying, but whatev.” Erin pressed her boob into Dallas’s arm. “What’s taking you so long to get me to the vodka?”
“Girl, put yourself in my hands and I’ll get you to the booze.” He reached around and grabbed her ass as they headed up the stairs. Erin shrieked and laughed all the way into the dorm.
Kevin sighed miserably. That’s what I’m supposed to be attracted to? No. Damn. Way. Not even with those boobs.
“I wanted to apologize to you.”
Kevin pulled his attention from his internal annoyance to the girl standing in front of him.
“Apologize? What for?” Kevin’s mind scrambled to think of what Shaunee could’ve possibly done to him and all his grief-exhausted mind could come up with was, Wow, I don’t remember Other Shaunee being so hot.
“I’m pretty sure my feelings should be hurt that you don’t remember me, but this once I’m cool with it. The only time you talked to me I was a bitch. That’s what I’m apologizing for.” She stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Shaunee. Erin—my twin, who went inside with Dallas—and I were super rude to the Prophetess Aphrodite about you. I was wrong and I’m sorry. And not just because the prophetess is dead. Because it was a childish, bitchy thing to do, and I’m not like that. Or, at least, I don’t want to be like that. So, I’m sorry. For real.”
“That’s right! I can’t believe I forgot.”
“Well, in your defense you’ve had a lot going on.”
“You two made fun of me—said I was Aphrodite’s lover.” Kevin barked a laugh. “Man, you pissed her off.”
“Yeah, well, the joke was on us. You were her lover and you also helped save all of us, along with her sacrifice.”
Kevin’s smile turned bittersweet. “Not then. That night we were just getting to know each other. We hadn’t fallen in love yet. Well, scratch that. I was probably already in love. She definitely wasn’t.”
“She was right, you know.”
“Yeah, about a lot of things. Which do you mean?”
“She called Erin and me spineless little girls who only apologize about being bitches when we get caught and have to pay the consequences for being horrible. She made me think about how I was acting, and since then I’ve realized I don’t like being horrible.”
“I have a feeling your twin in there isn’t in agreement with you,” said Kevin.
“Yeah, I know. I’m not sure what to do about it. Erin and I have been inseparable since we both got Marked—on the same day—and ended up here. It used to be great that we were so close. We had each other’s backs. We were never alone—or lonely. Then I guess I started to change, and she didn’t. That’s about it. But, hey, I didn’t mean to dump that on you. I just wanted to tell you that I am honestly sorry that I made fun of you.”
“Apology accepted. Wanta sit?” He motioned beside him on the stair.
“Sure, but I only have about five minutes before Erin comes back here to get me. That’s the worst part. That I can’t get her to understand that we can still be besties, even though we don’t agree on everything and we’re not together every damn second.”
“You might want to rethink that,” Kevin said. He scooted over so Shaunee had plenty of room to sit.
“Rethink trying to get her to understand?”
“Well, yeah, kinda. But I meant rethink her being your bestie. People change. And maybe now you two don’t really have much—”
“Ohmyfuckinggod, what is taking you so long? The luge is the shit! Come on Twin! They’re talking about a wet T-shirt contest, and you know how I like me some water!”
Shaunee sighed and muttered, “I am not getting my shirt wet so boys can stare at my boobs more than they do already.” But in a louder voice she said, “Okay, coming,” as she stood. “It was nice talking to you, Kev. Hope I see you around.”
“Yeah, me too,” said Kevin, surprised that he meant it.
Then Dallas stuck his head out of the door. “Hey, babe! There you are. They’re setting up another double shot! Come on!”
“Oooo! Coming!” Erin grabbed Shaunee’s hand and pulled her up the remaining stairs.
“Oh, hey, Kevin. Almost forgot. One of the computer nerds stuck his head out of their cave and told me to come get you. Figures you’re friends with them.” Dallas put an arm around Erin and tried to put one around Shaunee, but she easily sidestepped him and disappeared into the dorm.
Kevin sighed and got up, going inside much more slowly. There was almost no one in the common room, which didn’t surprise Kevin. They’d all be in the movie room taking shots and playing video games. I’m going to say something to Anastasia. Not that I’m really a buzzkill, but someone has to get control of these fledglings, and the first step needs to be keeping fully Changed vampyres, like douchebag Dallas, away from them.
He was still grumbling internally when he opened the door to the dorm’s media center. Even though every fledgling at the school had a laptop, a smart phone, and basically any other electronic device they desired, each dorm was also equipped with a high-tech media center where fledglings could research, run off any copies they needed to make (there was a 3-D printer in each dorm), and do almost anything they could do in the main media center of the school.
The row of computers was half full with three fledglings, sound-canceling headphones in place, fully concentrating on their screens. They were the students who had been tasked with looking for stories about ghost Zoey, and anything else that might cause Anastasia and the new House of Night regime issues. They were supposed to report whatever they found to either Kevin or Dragon, who would pass it along to the school’s professional IT team.
“Oh, good. There you are.” A fledgling named Santos took off his headphones and motioned for Kevin to come to him. “So, I was looking for those Zoey stories and going through Insta accounts, and I found this. I know you and Dragon didn’t ask us to check him out, but when I read this and saw all the likes I thought I better show you.” Santos pointed to the screen and the Instagram account he’d pulled up.
Ah, hell! It’s Loren fucking Blake. Kevin read the poem and could feel his blood pressure spiking. “You have got to be kidding.”
“Nope. I’m not making this shit up. At all.”
“No, I didn’t mean—” Kevin shook his head. “It’s just that this is crazy.” He reread the poem as he thought about what an asshole Blake must be to write something like that.
“Not as crazy as all the likes it got,” said Santos.
Kevin’s eyes widened as he saw the thousands of likes. “I want you to follow the like trail. Make a list—on one side, humans, and on the other, vampyres and fledglings. Email the list to Dragon and me.” Kevin clapped him on the back. “Good job. Seriously.”
“Will do.”
“And keep this to yourself,” Kevin added.
“No worries there. I’m not one of the idiots who think war is cool. I have friends who were killed in the war. A lot of them. I, um, used to be an equestrian.”
“I’m sorry. Our High Priestess is working on getting horses back in the stables. Hey, you could let her know that you’d be willing to help.”
Santos turned his gaze back to the computer. “I haven’t been back to the stables since it happened. Since they were all killed. I’m—I’m not sure I can go there yet.”
“I get it. No rush.”
“It’s a good idea, though.”
“Keep at it. It’ll get better,” said Kevin.
“Do you mean the internet searching or missing the horses and everyone?”
“Both. I’ll be back. And, agai
n, good job.”
Kevin cracked his knuckles as he hurried into what had been Neferet’s over-the-top office—quickly refurbished by Anastasia, who was sitting behind an antique desk carved from rich walnut that gleamed in the soft light of the fat lavender-vanilla pillar candles that rested in simple but elegant marble holders—perfuming the room with soothing sweetness. Gone were the stiff velvet chairs and the huge photos of Neferet pretending to be Nyx. Instead Anastasia had added comfortable leather chairs before the antique desk and in the corners of the room, and the white walls were decorated with artist renditions of the real Goddess.
Dragon was pacing the width of the room and a very grim-looking Stark sat in one of the two chairs before Anastasia’s desk.
Kevin hesitated at the door, not sure if he should’ve knocked or not, but Anastasia gestured for him to come in, saying, “Good, you’re here. Please take a seat beside Stark. Our Sword Master is always more comfortable pacing when bad news is being delivered.”
Dragon paused in his pacing long enough for Kevin to take a seat. Then he continued. “As I was saying, Blake is nowhere on campus. He’s gone for sure. His room is a mess. He was obviously in a hurry to pack.”
Stark crossed his arms over his chest and muttered, “Fucking traitorous asshole.”
“I never liked him,” said Dragon.
Anastasia was holding a piece of paper, which she stared at as she asked, “How long has he been gone?”
Kevin shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Well, I went to Nyx’s Temple to look for him before I alerted Dragon to the fact that he could be missing, and the priestess there told me that he’d left the temple several hours ago.”
Stark shook his head in disgust. “He could be anywhere.”
“This haiku is truly despicable. What a terrible disappointment Loren Blake is.” Anastasia sighed and then put down the paper and straightened her spine, her voice hardening. “Did any of our people see him at the airport?”
Dragon had begun pacing again. His hand rested on the pommel of the sword that sat in a leather scabbard strapped around his waist. Kevin thought he looked like an ancient Warrior come suddenly alive from the pages of a vampyre history book. His voice was deep and his words were clipped. “We don’t have people there anymore. It’s part of the truce. We agreed to reopen Tulsa International and let humans come and go as they will.”
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