by P. C. Cast
So, Kevin knew exactly where he was going—though he wasn’t eager to get there.
He followed the entry hallway all the way to the end, ignoring the doors to his left and right. They were full of blue vampyres that had died or been killed in battle and blue fledglings that had rejected the Change. There wouldn’t be any red vampyres in any of those rooms, as Neferet made sure to keep her Red and Blue Armies segregated, even in death.
There were no markings on any of the doors, except the very last one at the end of the hallway. That door was marked clearly with a large red X. Kevin didn’t hesitate. He opened the door and slipped inside the dark room.
The smell was the first thing that hit him. The room was cold, kept that way so that the bodies wouldn’t decompose too much before they could be burned and then discarded like trash. There was little in the room except metal tables and metal cabinets lining one wall. He quickly counted ten tables. Only one of them was occupied. Averting his eyes from that table, Kevin hurried to the wall of cabinets and began searching through the medical supplies.
It took little time to find a glass jar with a lid.
Kevin took the jar and went to the occupied table. A body lay there, covered by a bloody sheet.
Just do it. Just get it over with.
Kevin lifted the sheet from the body and sighed sadly.
“Damn, dude, that musta hurt.” The cause of death of the young red vampyre that lay there was obvious. Something had smashed into his head. The whole right half of his face, from his cheekbone up, was a mess. Kevin wanted to avert his eyes. He didn’t want to look at the guy’s face, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
The dead vampyre had been so young! His face, frozen in death, was hideous on the wounded side, but the rest of it didn’t even look like he was eighteen. “You can’t have been Changed for very long.” He spoke quietly to the corpse. “Me either. I remember Changing so well. I remember how scared I was, knowing that my humanity was slipping away from me. I still don’t know what’s worse. Totally losing your humanity and turning into an eating machine or hanging on and understanding just how much of a monster you’re becoming.” Kevin rested his hand on the kid’s cold, lifeless shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m going to try my best to stop anyone else from becoming a monster, but I need your help. This isn’t gonna be pleasant, and I’m real glad you can’t feel anything, but I’m still sorry I have to do this to you. Okay, well, I’m going to get it over with, then I’ll cover you back up.”
First, Kevin lifted the dead vamp’s arm, turning it so that he could get to the underside of the forearm. “Again, dude, sorry.” Then, he pressed the nail of his index finger hard against the flaccid skin, drawing it slowly along the major artery from wrist to elbow. The skin split easily under Kevin’s preternaturally sharp fingernail, and he worked quickly, squeezing and pressing to coax the settled and congealed blood into the glass jar.
The smell was awful—worse even than living red vampyres, which was pretty damn terrible. But Kevin kept at it, moving from one arm to another, and then finally rolled the body on its side to expose more settled blood. It was slow working. The blood was sticky and clotted, and utterly disgusting to milk from the dead body. Eventually, Kevin found himself having to stick his fingers in the slash wounds he was making and scoop the gooey stuff out. Bottle filled, he finally screwed the lid on before going to the sink.
Carefully, Kevin lifted his sweatshirt and the T-shirt he had on under it. With a grimace of disgust, he rubbed a line of foul-smelling bloody goo on his belly, just above the waist of his jeans. He also pushed up his sleeves, rubbing more blood into each of his elbow creases. Satisfied that he would pass a red vampyre sniff test, he washed his hands, the jar, and then grabbed a bunch of paper towels from the metal dispenser positioned over the sink. Kevin wet half of the paper towels and then went back to the body.
“I’m never eating anything that looks like strawberry Jell-O again. Ever,” Kevin told the corpse. “I won’t leave you like this. Not that anyone would notice. They’re gonna wheel you into the crematorium probably without even looking at you. But still—it isn’t right to leave you like this.”
Kevin cleaned the blood from the body, repositioning his clothes, and even wiping down the table. When the dead vampyre looked semitidy, Kevin again put his hand on the dead kid’s shoulder.
“Thank you. Your blood will make it so that I don’t get caught—so they don’t know I’m different. I’m going to change things here. I give you my word. I’m going to be part of a miracle. I know it can happen because I’ve seen it. I’ve felt it. And now I live it. I’m going to make sure red vampyres aren’t monsters anymore. I promise.” Kevin bowed his head and whispered to his Goddess, “Thank you, Nyx. Please welcome this kid to your grove. He didn’t ask for this. No matter who he was when he was human, good or bad, he didn’t deserve this.” Then, slowly, Kevin pulled the bloody sheet back up over the young red vampyre’s body.
Kevin slipped the jar inside the satchel’s internal pouch—well away from his g-ma’s delicious cookies. Then he slid the strap over his shoulder again and went to the door, opening it just enough to peer into the hallway, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw it was deserted.
Not wasting another second, Kevin rushed down the hallway and out the door. He slipped around the side of the morgue that faced the rest of the school grounds and studied the area. A familiar feeling of terrible unease crawled up his spine as he realized that instead of a black sky, the world around him had begun to shift to gray and pink.
Dawn! Kevin wanted to kick himself. Of course I feel uneasy. In fifteen minutes the sun is going to rise and fry my ass!
He didn’t have any time to waste. Pulling his hoodie down to cover most of his face, Kevin strode quickly and with confidence across the schoolyard.
He saw no fledglings, and the only vampyres he noticed were Sons of Erebus Warriors as the day shift began relieving the night guards. Kevin cut across campus to the back entrance to the Field House and the abandoned equestrian center, and kept his face turned away as he walked past two Warriors who were discussing the officers’ briefing that Neferet had announced they needed to attend in the auditorium at 2000 hours the next day.
It took everything in him not to give a big fist pump and yell Yes! An officers’ brief was exactly what he needed—and what Dragon needed to hear about!
Once Kevin was inside the Field House he followed the hallway, taking a couple turns until he came to an indistinct door that he desperately hoped led to the basement, just like it did in Zo’s world. He tried the door handle, and it was locked!
“Dammit!” Kevin breathed the word. “Now what the hell am I supposed to do?”
If someone saw him during daylight hours he’d get caught. Red vampyres were never at the House of Night after dawn. He couldn’t even feign ignorance and say he was lost. No one would believe him. From the moment a fledgling was Marked red and brought to the House of Night, it was drilled into him that he must be in the tunnels before sunrise. The only exception was if the red vampyre was on a Red Army mission.
Kevin’s mind thought of and rejected one idea after another. He was simply out of time. He had to hide in the basement.
He needed help.
“Damn, if only I could slip through that keyhole like air …” Kevin muttered to himself as he cracked his knuckles and wished that he knew this House of Night like he knew the tunnels. Then he’d know where he could hide and be safe until—
An idea hit him! He didn’t have time to wonder if he was making a mistake. He didn’t have time to second-guess himself. He only had time to close his eyes and take several deep, grounding breaths, and then he opened his eyes, faced east, and made the call.
“Old Magick sprites of air, I am Kevin Redbird, and with the power in my blood, and the power Nyx has gifted me with, I call you to me!”
His answer came disc
oncertingly fast, as before him several glowing firefly-like fey suddenly popped into view, hovering at his eye level, bringing with them the skin-crawling sensation Kevin had every time he invoked Old Magick.
“Redbird Boy! You call us again! And we come! We come!” They flitted about, changing places as their little bodies shifted from insect to glowing, winged women, and back to insect.
“Thanks a bunch! Okay, I only need one thing, but I need it real fast.” He pointed at the keyhole in the door. “Could you go through there and unlock this door? I need to get inside there—now.”
“We can do that,” said one flitting fey.
“But what payment? What payment?” trilled another.
Kevin opened his mouth to tell the fey that he’d pay with more of his blood, but one giggling sprite, who showed too many sharp teeth as she laughed, interrupted before he could speak.
“No blood this time! We want something special!”
“Yes,” the first fey agreed. “Special!”
Kevin wanted to rip the hair from his head in frustration and wondered briefly if the sprites would consider his hair a special payment. Thankfully, he had another idea. He reached inside his g-ma’s satchel and pulled out a fragrant, homemade lavender chocolate-chip cookie. Holding it up he grinned at the sprites.
“Well, this cookie is about as special as it gets. It was made by my grandmother—the Wise Woman who was on the ridge with me. You know, you guys ate one of her medicine bags.”
“Ooooooh!” The sprites glowed even brighter as they hovered in the air around the cookie. Then, together, so that their voices echoed eerily from the stone walls around him, the fey spoke rhythmically.
“A special payment we do see
One offered by thee and accepted by me.
Our deal is sealed—so mote it be!”
The flock of Old Magick air sprites descended like locusts on the cookie. Kevin yelped and he let it loose as they devoured every crumb. Then, with no hesitation, the glowing sprites dived down, flowing through the door’s keyhole, under the door, and through the crack at the doorjamb.
Kevin stood there, wondering what would happen next, when he heard the deadbolt turn. He grabbed the door handle and pushed. It swung open easily. He closed it behind him, and when he turned to navigate his way down the steep basement stairs, a single sprite appeared, floating by his head.
“Thank you,” Kevin said. “You helped me out a lot.”
“We like your call, Redbird Boy. We like your payment. Call when you have need of us, but do not forget that we like special payment … special, special payment …” As the sprite spoke, her appearance continued to shift—from a big firefly, to a beautiful, winged woman, to something with more arms and legs than she should have had and a mouth that seemed to grow and grow and grow until her face appeared to split in half.
And then, in a flash of light, the sprite was gone, leaving Kevin with a terrible feeling of unease.
* * *
Zoey
“Z? You in here?” Stark called as he entered our bedchamber. “I got your text to meet you.”
“You’re early!” I yelled from the bathroom. “Don’t move!”
“Huh?”
“I said don’t move! Stay by the door. Shut your eyes!”
“Shut my eyes?”
I heard the confused amusement in his voice, but I seriously didn’t want him to spoil my surprise. “If you don’t want to shut your eyes then turn around.”
“Okay! Okay! I’m shutting my eyes. Uh, Z. What are you doing?”
What was I doing? I was trying to make up for worrying the crap out of my Warrior and be romantic. “Hang on. You’ll see in a sec!”
“I didn’t even think you’d be back here until after sunrise. Weren’t you at the depot with Damien and Kramisha?”
“Yeah!” I yelled through the bathroom door. “Well, for a while I was, but Aphrodite decided to get in on the redecorating, and I had to leave.”
“Too much bickering?”
“Totally,” I said. “Okay, I’m coming out. Keep your eyes shut until I tell you to open them, ’kay?”
“Whatever you say, my Queen.”
I could hear the smile in his voice, which made me grin in response, and I gave myself one last check in the mirror. I don’t wear much makeup. Actually, I have an issue with makeup. I hate that society says we have to wear it to “look our best.” Look our best? With crap slathered all over our faces, hiding everything about us that’s really us? Um, no. I’m with the fab Alicia Keys—I don’t want to cover up my face … my mind … my soul … nothing. So, I fluffed my hair and smiled at my freshly washed face. Ready!
I peeked my head out of the bathroom. No Stark. On bare feet I padded through our bedroom area, straightening the picnic blanket I’d spread out on the floor, and fluffing the cushions that I’d arranged perfectly for us to sit on.
“Z?”
“Keep your eyes closed!” I hurried through our bedroom to the sitting area, and smiled when I saw my Warrior, still standing in front of the door with his eyes closed. I went to him and took his hand.
“Can I open them now?”
“Nope, not till I say, but follow me.”
“I’m gonna run into something.”
“Don’t be a baby. I’ve got you.” I led him slowly around the coffee table and other obstacles, finally situating him beside the picnic blanket. “Okay, hang on just one more sec.” I left him standing there and hurried around to the other side of the blanket, clicking on the remote to the big TV that was mounted on the wall, checking to be sure it was muted. Then I nervously fluffed my hair again, before saying, “Okay, you can open your eyes now!”
He did, and his lips quirked up in that sexy half-smile I loved so much.
“Z! You’re practically naked!”
I could feel my cheeks flushing, but I grinned at him. “No, I have on one of your T-shirts.”
“Yeah, my old, holey T-shirt that’s totally see-through. Damn, Z! It never looked like that on me!”
“Heehees!” I giggled. “So, are you hungry?”
“For you! Hell yes!”
“No, silly. Well, yes, silly, but first how about we eat?” I pointed down at my picnic dinner.
His gaze reluctantly left my body to check out the blanket. “Z, is that nachos? With everything on them?”
“Yep, it totally is. I even added jalapeños. Lots and lots of them, because even though I think they are the peppers from hell sent to burn mouths into submission, you like them.” I sat on one of the cushions and patted the one beside me, motioning for Stark to join me.
“Nachos are my favorite,” he said as he sat.
“I know.”
He lifted an icy glass, sniffed, and then took a big gulp before he gushed, “And Dr. Pepper! You got me Dr. Pepper!”
“I know how much you heart it, even though I totally disagree with you because it’s—”
“An abomination of brown pop,” he finished the sentence for me.
“Yes, indeedy, it is.”
He reached for a nacho and his gaze lifted to the TV screen. “Holy crap, Z! Game of Thrones? You’re going to actually watch an episode with me?”
“I’m going to watch as many episodes as you want.”
“But you hate Game of Thrones.”
“No, I don’t hate it. I don’t watch it because Cersei reminds me too much of Neferet’s craziness, but it’s not always about me, so let’s watch it.”
Stark stared at me. “What have you done with my Zoey?”
I bumped his shoulder. “Oh, stop.”
“Seriously, am I in trouble?”
“Of course not!”
“Ah, crap.” He put the nacho down and turned me so that I had to look into his eyes. “What have you done?”
I sigh
ed. “I’ve been acting like a selfish bitch since Kevin left, and I’m sorry. Really sorry, Stark. I know you’ve been worried, and this is my way of apologizing.”
“Hey, it’s understandable that you’ve been preoccupied, especially knowing Kev is using Old Magick.”
“Understandable, yeah. But it’s pretty immature of me to be so distracted that you have to be stressed about me, and my High Priestesses have to pick up the slack for me. I’m going to do better, I promise.”
Stark touched my cheek gently. “You always do better, Z. I knew you’d come around.”
“Do you understand how much I love you?” I blurted.
“Yeah, but it’s good to hear you say it.” He devoured a nacho that was covered in gooey cheese and jalapeños, licking the extra cheese from his fingertips as he swallowed.
“You’re the best. You are always here for me, but you also give me space to deal with my stuff on my own. That means a lot to me, especially because I know you can feel how distracted I am.”
“I don’t think you’re distracted right now.” He bent and touched his lips to mine.
I smiled. “No, you have one hundred percent of my attention right now. And I know the sun’s rising soon, but if you can stay awake a while, I promise as long as you’re conscious you’ll have one hundred percent of me.” I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders and pulled him to me. Our lips met again and the kiss became deep and hot. I loved the way he tasted, the minty gum he chewed, the gross sweetness of Dr. Pepper—which suddenly wasn’t gross at all—and the saltiness of nachos.
As he pressed me back against the cushions, his lips traveled down my neck, kissing and taking teasing nips at my skin, which had me gasping and goose bumping.
“How about we don’t go to sleep?” His voice was low, and his breath was warm and sexy against my skin. “How about I kiss every inch of you, then we eat nachos and watch Game of Thrones, and then I kiss every inch of you again.”
His tongue flicked out as he began finding the holes in his old T-shirt, kissing my breasts through them.
“But you have to teach tomorrow.” I sounded breathless, like I’d just sprinted up several flights of stairs.
