by P. C. Cast
“But what about the other people? I remember you said something about some kids in the car in front of you, and that car crashed and caught on fire.”
“Yeah.”
I frowned at her. “Yeah, what?”
“Yeah, I was watching from your grandma’s point of view and I saw a bunch of other cars crashing around me. It happened fast, though, so I couldn’t really tell how many.”
She didn’t say anything else, and I shook my head in disgust. “What about saving them? You said little boys died!”
Aphrodite shrugged. “I told you my vision was confusing. I couldn’t tell exactly where it was, and the only reason I knew when is because I saw the date and time on your grandma’s dash.”
“So you’re just going to let the rest of those people die?”
“What do you care? Your grandma’s going to be okay.”
“You make me sick, Aphrodite. Do you care about anyone but yourself?”
“Whatever, Zoey. Like you’re so perfect? I didn’t hear you caring about anyone else except your grandma.”
“Of course I was worried about her the most! I love her! But I don’t want anyone else to die, either. And no one else is going to if I have anything to say about it. So, you need to figure out some way to let me know which bridge we’re talking about.”
“I already told you—it’s on the Muskogee Turnpike. I can’t tell which one.”
“Think harder! What else did you see?”
She sighed and closed her eyes. I watched her face as her brow wrinkled and she seemed to cringe. With her eyes still closed she said, “Wait, no. It’s not on the turnpike. I saw a sign. It’s the I-40 bridge over the Arkansas River—the one that’s right off the turnpike near Webber’s Falls.” Then she opened her eyes. “You know when and where. I can’t tell you much more. I think some kind of flat boat, like a barge, hits the bridge, but that’s all I know. I didn’t see anything to identify the boat. So, how are you going to stop it?”
“I don’t know, but I will,” I muttered.
“Well, while you’re thinking about how to save the world, I’m going to go back to the dorm and do my nails. Raggedy nails are something I consider tragic.”
“You know, having crappy parents isn’t an excuse to be heartless,” I said. She’d turned away and I saw her pause. Her back got really straight and when she looked over her shoulder at me I could see that her eyes were narrowed in anger.
“What would you know about it?”
“About your parents? Not much except that they’re controlling and your mom’s a nightmare. About screwed-up parents in general? Plenty. I’ve been living with pain-in-the-ass parent issues since my mom remarried three years ago. It sucks, but it’s not an excuse to be a bitch.”
“Try eighteen years of a lot more than just ‘pain-in-the-ass parent issues’ and maybe you’ll start to get something about it. Until then, you don’t know shit.” Then, like the old Aphrodite I knew and couldn’t stand, she flipped her hair and stalked away, wiggling her narrow butt like I cared.
“Issues. The girl has major issues.” I sat down on the bench and began rummaging through my purse for my cell phone, glad I carried it around with me even though I’d been forced to keep it on silent, without even vibrate on. The reason could be summed up in one word—Heath. He was my human almost-ex-boyfriend, and since he and my definitely ex-best friend, Kayla, had tried to “break me out” (that’s actually what they’d said—morons) of the House of Night, Heath had been way over the top on his obsession level for me. Of course, that wasn’t really his fault. I was the one who had tasted his blood and started the whole Imprint thing with him, but still. Anyway, even though his messages had dwindled down from like a zillion (meaning twenty or so) a day, to two or three, I still didn’t feel like leaving my phone on and being bothered by him. And, sure enough, when I flipped it open there were two missed calls, both from Heath. No messages, though, so hopefully he’s demonstrating the ability to learn.
Grandma sounded sleepy when she answered the phone, but as soon as she realized it was me she perked up.
“Oh, Zoeybird! It’s so nice to wake up to your voice,” she said.
I smiled into the phone. “I miss you, Grandma.”
“I miss you, too, sweetheart.”
“Grandma, the reason I called is kinda weird, but you’re just going to have to trust me.”
“Of course I trust you,” she replied without hesitation. She’s so different than my mom that sometimes I wonder how they could be related.
“Okay, later today you’re planning on coming into Tulsa to do some shopping, right?”
There was a brief pause, and then she laughed. “I guess it’s going to be hard to keep birthday surprises from my vampyre granddaughter.”
“I need you to promise me something, Grandma. Promise that you won’t go anywhere today. Don’t get in your car. Don’t drive anywhere. Just stay home and relax.”
“What’s this about, Zoey?”
I hesitated, not sure how to tell her. Then with her lifelong ability to understand me, she said softly, “Remember, you can tell me anything, Zoeybird. I’ll believe you.”
I hadn’t realized that I’d been holding my breath until that instant. On my let out breath I said, “The bridge on I-40 that goes over the Arkansas River by Webber’s Falls is going to collapse. You were supposed to be on it, and you would have died.” I said the last part softly, almost whispering.
“Oh! Oh, my! I’d better sit down.”
“Grandma, are you okay?”
“I suppose I am now, but I wouldn’t be if you hadn’t warned me, which is why I’m feeling light-headed.” She must have picked up a magazine or something because I could hear her fanning herself. “How did you find out about this? Are you having visions?”
“No, not me. It’s Aphrodite.”
“The girl who used to be leader of the Dark Daughters? I didn’t think you two were friends.”
I snorted. “We’re not. Definitely not. But I found her having a vision and she told me what she saw.”
“And you trust this girl?”
“No way, but I do trust her power, and I saw her, Grandma. It was like she was there, with you. It was awful. She saw you crash, and those little kids die . . .” I had to stop and breathe. The truth had suddenly caught up with me: my grandma could have died today.
“Wait, there were more people in the crash?”
“Yeah, when the bridge collapses a bunch of cars go into the river.”
“But what about the other people?”
“I’m going to take care of that, too. You just stay home.”
“Shouldn’t I go to the bridge and try to stop them?”
“No! Stay away from there. I’ll make sure no one gets hurt—I promise. But I have to know that you’re safe,” I said.
“Okay, sweetheart. I believe you. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be safe and sound at home. You take care of whatever you need to do, and if you need me, call. Anytime.”
“Thanks, Grandma. I love you.”
“I love you, too, u-we-tsi a-ge-hu-tsa.”
After I hung up I spent a little while just sitting there, willing myself to stop shaking, but only a little while. A plan was already brewing in my head, and I didn’t have time to freak out. I needed to get busy.
CHAPTER TEN
“So why can’t we tell Neferet about this mess? All she’d have to do is make a few calls, like she did last month when Aphrodite had a vision about that plane going down at the Denver airport,” Damien said, careful to keep his voice low. I’d hurried back to the dorm, huddled my group together, and given them the short version of Aphrodite’s vision.
“She made me promise I wouldn’t go to Neferet. The two of them are having some kind of weird fight.”
“It’s about time Neferet started seeing her as the bitch she is,” Stevie Rae said.
“Hateful cow,” Shaunee said.
“Hag from hell,” Erin agreed.<
br />
“Yeah, well, what she is doesn’t really matter. It’s her visions and the people who are in danger of dying that matter,” I said.
“I heard that her visions aren’t really believable anymore because Nyx has withdrawn her favor from Aphrodite,” Damien said. “Maybe that’s why she made you promise not to go to Neferet, because this is all something she made up and she wants you to freak out and do something that will either embarrass you and make you look bad, or get you in trouble.”
“I’d think that too if I hadn’t watched her having the vision. She wasn’t faking it, I’m sure of that.”
“But is she telling you the whole truth?” Stevie Rae asked.
I thought about that for a second. Aphrodite had already admitted to me that she could withhold parts of her visions from Neferet. What made me think she wasn’t doing that with me, too? Then I remembered the whiteness of her face, the way she had gripped my hand, and the fear in her voice as she joined my grandma in her death. I shivered.
“She was telling me the truth,” I said. “You guys will just have to trust that my intuition is right.” I looked at my four friends. None of them were happy about this, but I knew that each of them trusted me and that I could count on them. “So, here’s the deal, I’ve already called my grandma. She won’t be on that bridge, but a bunch of other people will. We need to figure out a way to save those other people.”
“Aphrodite said that a bargelike boat hit the bridge causing it to collapse?” Damien asked.
I nodded.
“Well, you could pretend to be Neferet and do what she does, call whoever’s in charge of the barge and tell them one of your students has had a vision of a tragedy. People listen to Neferet; they’re scared not to. It’s a well-known fact that her information has saved lots of human lives.”
“I already thought about that, but it won’t work because Aphrodite didn’t see the boat clearly. She wasn’t even sure it was a barge. So I have no way of knowing how to even begin contacting anyone about stopping it. And I can’t pretend to be Neferet. It feels way wrong. I mean, talk about asking to get in trouble. You can’t tell me that whoever I call won’t call back with some kind of follow-up report to Neferet. Then all hell would break loose.”
“Ugly scene,” Shaunee said.
“Yeah, Neferet would find out that the hag had another vision, so your promise to keep it quiet would be broken,” Erin said.
“Okay, so stopping the boat is out, and pretending to be Neferet is out. That leaves closing the bridge as our only option,” Damien said.
“That’s what I thought, too,” I said.
“Bomb threat!” Stevie Rae said suddenly. We all looked at her.
“Huh?” Erin asked.
“Explain,” Shaunee said.
“We call whoever those freaks who make bomb threats call.”
“That could actually work,” said Damien. “When there’s a bomb threat in a building they always evacuate it. So it figures that if there’s a bomb threat about a bridge, the bridge will be closed, at least until they find out the bomb threat is fake.”
“If I call from my cell phone they won’t be able to tell who I am, will they?” I asked.
“Oh, please,” Damien said, shaking his head like I was a total moron. “Of course they can trace cell phones. This isn’t the nineties.”
“Then what do I do?”
“You can still use a cell. It just has to be a disposable one,” Damien explained.
“You mean like a disposable camera?”
“Where have you been?” Shaunee asked.
“Who doesn’t know about disposable cells?” Erin said.
“I don’t,” Stevie Rae said.
“Exactly,” the Twins said together.
“Here”—Damien pulled a big dorky looking Nokia out of his pocket—“use mine.”
“Why do you have a disposable?” I studied the phone. It looked fairly normal.
“I got it after my parents freaked about me being gay. Until I was Marked and came here it felt like they were grounding me for life from life. I mean, not that I really expected them to lock me in a closet somewhere, but it’s good to be prepared. Since then I’ve made sure I always have one.”
None of us knew what to say. It really sucked that Damien’s parents were so psycho about him being gay.
“Thanks, Damien,” I finally said.
“No problem. When you’re done making the call be sure you turn it off and then give it back to me. I’ll destroy it.”
“Okay.”
“And be sure you tell them that the bomb’s planted under the waterline. That way they’ll have to close the bridge long enough for them to send in divers to check it out.”
I nodded. “Good idea. I’ll tell them that the bomb’s going to explode at three fifteen, which is the exact time Aphrodite saw on my grandma’s dashboard clock when she crashed.”
“I don’t know how long these things take, but you should probably call about two thirty, that sounds like enough time for them to get out there and close the bridge, but not so much that they’ll have time to figure out it’s a fake threat, and let cars back on the bridge too soon,” Stevie Rae said.
“Uh, guys,” Shaunee said. “Who are you gonna call?”
“Hell, I don’t know.” I was feeling the stress settle around my shoulders and knew I was going to have a major headache very soon.
“Google it,” Erin said.
“No,” Damien said quickly. “We don’t want any kind of computer trail. You just need to call the local branch of the FBI. That’ll be in the phone book. They’ll do whatever it is they do when freaks call.”
“Like track them down and put them in jail for the rest of eternity,” I muttered gloomily.
“No, they’re not going to catch you. You’re not leaving any kind of a trail. They’ll have no reason to think it’s any of us. Call at about two thirty. Tell them you’ve planted a bomb under the bridge because . . .” Damien hesitated.
“Because of pollution!” Stevie Rae chirped.
“Pollution?” Shaunee said.
“I don’t think it should be because of pollution. I think it should be because you’re sick and tired of government interference in the private sector’s lives,” Erin said.
I just blinked at her. What the hell did she just say?
“Excellent point, Twin,” Shaunee said.
Erin grinned. “I sounded just like my dad when I said that. He’d be proud. Well, not about the pretending to blow up a bridge part, but the other stuff, yeah.”
“We understand, Twin,” Shaunee said.
“I still like saying that it’s because you’re tired of pollution. Pollution’s a real problem,” Stevie Rae said stubbornly.
“Okay, how about I say it’s because of government interference and pollution in our rivers? That’ll be the reason the bomb’s on a bridge.” They looked at me with blank expressions. I sighed. “Because of pollution in the river.”
“Ohhh,” they said.
“We’d make dorky terrorists,” Stevie Rae said with a giggle.
“I think that’s actually a good thing,” Damien said.
“So we’re in agreement? I call the FBI, and we all keep our mouths shut about Aphrodite’s vision.”
They nodded.
“Good. Okay. Guess I’ll find a phone book and look up the number for the FBI, and then—”
A movement caught at the corner of my vision, and I glanced up to see Neferet escorting two men in suits into the dorm. Everyone went instantly silent, and I heard a whisper of “They’rehuman . . . ” begin to buzz through the room. Then I didn’t have time to think or to listen, because it was obvious that Neferet and the two human men were walking directly over to me.
“Ah, Zoey, there you are.” Neferet smiled at me with her usual warmth. “These gentlemen need to speak with you. I believe we can step into the library. This shouldn’t take more than a moment.” Neferet regally gestured for the suits and me to fo
llow her as she swept from the big main room (with everyone gawking openmouthed at us) to the little side room we called the dorm library, but was actually more of a computer room with some comfortable chairs and a few shelves filled with paperbacks. There were only two girls at the row of computers, and with a quick command Neferet got rid of them. They scurried out and she closed the door behind them, then she turned to face us. I glanced at the clock over the computer. It was 7:06 A.M. on Saturday morning. What was going on?
“Zoey, this is Detective Marx”—she pointed at the taller of the two men—“and Detective Martin from the homicide division of the Tulsa Police Department. They wanted to ask you a few questions about the human boy who was killed.”
“Okay,” I said, wondering what kind of questions they could possibly want to ask me. Hell, I didn’t know anything. I hadn’t even known him that well.
“Miss Montgomery,” Detective Marx began, but he was cut neatly off by Neferet.
“Redbird,” she said.
“Ma’am?”
“Zoey legally changed her last name to Redbird when she became an emancipated minor upon entrance to our school last month. All of our students are legally emancipated. We find it helpful with the unique nature of our school.”
The cop gave a short nod. I couldn’t tell whether he was annoyed or not, but I guessed by the way he kept looking at Neferet the answer was not.
“Miss Redbird,” he continued, “we have received information that you are acquainted with Chris Ford and Brad Higeons. Is this true?”
“Yeah, I mean yes,” I hastily corrected. Clearly this wasn’t a good time to sound like a silly teenager. “I know . . . well, knew both of them.”
“What do you mean by knew?” Detective Martin, the shorter cop, said sharply.
“Well, I mean that I don’t hang out with human teenagers anymore, but even before I was Marked I didn’t see Chris or Brad much.” I wondered what he was so uptight about, and then I realized that because Chris was dead and Brad was missing that my talking about them in the past tense probably sounded really bad.
