by P. C. Cast
“Nosebleed section in the west. Ironically just below the press box. Fifty-yard line, but waaaaay above it. Ready to call water when you give the word.”
“Hey, that means you’re up there behind me. I’m in row twenty-five at the fifty-yard line. Where’s Aphrodite?”
“Press box with She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”
“Got it,” I said.
Then his voice got all echoey as he must have covered the walkie-talkie to whisper, “Hey, we can’t get any weapons because the red vamps are all on the field.”
“Dragon knows. They’ll have to improvise.”
“Which means we’ll have to work fast.”
“That’s the plan.” The stadium roared again as OSU fumbled and OU recovered. “Gotta go. Can’t hear you very well.”
“Boomer Soo—,” Kev yelled before the walkie-talkie cut off.
Heath ran back on the field and my eyes followed him. Well, when I wasn’t staring at his girlfriend. I had to admit Jenn Amala was pretty. And I was glad she wasn’t some ordinary blond chick—like Kayla. I shuddered at the thought. Shaunee would be glad Heath was getting some black-girl magic. I tried to be glad too.
And when that failed, I went back to watching him and trying to control the bile that kept rising in my throat.
* * *
Other Aphrodite
“This game is a bore,” Neferet pouted, sipping from a crystal goblet filled with red wine and even redder blood. “I thought the Bedlam thing was a magnificent rivalry.”
“Well, it is,” Aphrodite said reluctantly, waving away one of Neferet’s Warrior guards who tried to pour her more blood-laced wine. “But OSU isn’t very good, that’s all.”
“Not very good seems an understatement. It’s intermission and the score is thirty-eight to three. Three. A field goal is all that orange team could manage.”
“Halftime,” Aphrodite corrected.
“What?” Neferet’s head swiveled, owl-like, to look at Aphrodite. “And why are you dressed so plainly?”
Aphrodite looked down at her jeans, her favorite pair of silver sparkly Jimmy Choo heels, and the red OU tee she’d tied up to show a little of her flat, gorgeous belly.
“Neferet, I’m dressed for a football game. And this pause in the game isn’t called an intermission. It’s called halftime.”
“Semantics.” She waved away Aphrodite’s comment.
“The marching bands are good,” Aphrodite said, attempting to make safe small talk.
“Good? They’re dreadful. Too much brass and noise and not enough finesse.” She drummed her long red fingernails on the press box window as she held out her empty goblet. “Artus. Refill.”
The grizzled Warrior moved with the speed and grace of a predator, refilling his High Priestess’ glass. As he did, Neferet ran a sharp nail up his arm, tracing his bicep and leaving a painful-looking pink trail.
The Warrior had to stifle a moan of pleasure.
Disgusted, Aphrodite averted her gaze.
“Did you have something else to say? Perhaps a thank you for these outstanding seats?” Neferet asked Aphrodite.
“These are great seats. I used to come up here with my father. He was a TU alum,” Aphrodite said.
“Again—boring. Human fathers are so overrated. I thought you understood that.”
Aphrodite shrugged. “Compared to my mother he was father of the year, every year.” She noted Neferet’s dark look, and quickly changed the subject. “But he never had the power you have. It’s amazing that we have the press box all to ourselves. Thanks for the invite, Neferet. These really are great seats.”
Aphrodite glanced around, plastering a grateful smile on her frozen face. The only other person in the box with them, besides Neferet’s Warriors, was a very sweaty human who was commentating the game. Neferet had shoved him over to the far side of the room and had ignored him completely. Aphrodite noted that he’d started stuttering halfway through the second period when Neferet had started complaining about being bored.
“What did you do with that young red vampyre who was following you around?” Neferet had turned away from the huge wall of windows and was studying Aphrodite with disconcerting concentration.
“Who? Oh, you mean Lieutenant Stinky.” She shrugged. “I told him to go find his flight or squadron or whatever it’s called. I don’t care what Stark says, I can’t stand his smell anymore.”
“Stark says he didn’t assign that soldier to you.”
Aphrodite’s heartbeat began to hammer, but she’d spent her entire childhood hiding her fear from her mother—and that skill had never left her. She rolled her eyes. “Oh, right. It was my choice to have a rancid red vampyre follow me around. Wait! I thought Stark was following your command.” She sat up straight as if the thought had just come to her. “You mean you didn’t tell him to shackle me with that stinky creature?”
“No, my dear. I did not.”
She snorted. “Well, I’m going to have words with General Bow Boy. Where is he, anyway?”
“Fussing with the Red Army. He should return any moment,” Neferet said.
“Good. I’m going to tell him if assigning Stinky to me was his idea of a joke, I am not amused.”
“Hm. That’s interesting.” Neferet’s gaze went back to the field below them where the bands had finished and the players were warming up. “Unlike this game. But I know how I can make it much more interesting. Artus, get that microphone from that inconsequential human over there and give it to me. It’s time.”
Aphrodite felt sick. “Time for what?”
“Aren’t you the Prophetess? Can’t you tell me?” Neferet’s sharp eyes trapped her.
Aphrodite did her best to look confused. “No. I haven’t had a vision since the one about the hayfield.”
“Well, then, watch and learn.” Neferet took the mic her Warrior had taken from the commentator. “I need that camera on me. It should play on that screen with the score so everyone can see me.”
“Human! Turn the camera on the High Priestess!” Artus commanded.
The poor guy was trembling so badly that he almost couldn’t get the camera turned around to face Neferet.
“What are you going to do?” Aphrodite’s stomach flipped around so hard she was finding it difficult to breath.
“Why, I’m simply going to liven things up. Is it ready?”
“Y-y-y-yes, ma’am.”
“High Priestess!” Neferet shrieked. “How many times do I have to tell you ridiculously simple humans, especially you males, that my title is High Priestess, not sweetheart, not honey, and not ma’am!”
“I-I’m s-sorry, High Priestess,” he groveled.
“Of course you are. I forgive you.” Her smile was reptilian. “Now turn that thing on.”
The red light blinked, and the man nodded to her. Aphrodite glanced at the field to see Neferet’s face suddenly being broadcast on each scoreboard and every video monitor in the stadium.
“Good evening, everyone. I am Neferet. Your High Priestess. I am thrilled you accepted my invitation and came to celebrate Bedlam with me. Now, I am quite sure that many of you—especially those of you wearing orange—are feeling disappointed and, perhaps, a little bored with how the game is going. I know I certainly am. Thankfully, I prepared a solution, though I was going to save it until the game was officially over. But, no matter. Now is the perfect time.
“Perhaps you noticed my lovely Red Army is field-level, guarding every exit. With their smell they are certainly difficult to miss!” She laughed at her own joke before continuing. “Well, as with everything I do, stationing them there was purposefully done, and here is why. The winning team will take home that silly glass bell. The losing team—their cheerleaders, their band, and their coaches—they will all be fed to my Red Army. I do despise losers, don’t you? So, carry on, and do your
best. Half of you have a very short time left to live.”
32
Zoey
As Neferet’s image went blank on the video monitors, the stadium erupted in panic. Humans everywhere shot to their feet and began pushing to get to the exits. I fought to stay in my seat as people shoved around me, cursing and crying. Terrified, I looked down at the field. Heath had ripped off his helmet and was facing the OSU team. I watched in horror as he strode over to them and dropped to his knees. Then, turning so that he faced the press box, Heath raised his hand in defiance. Slowly, his OU teammates joined him, surrounded him, and did the same.
I could see the tears in the eyes of the OSU players as they followed suit. Coaches, cheerleaders, referees—they all took to their knees and held up their fists in protest.
And, just like that, the people surrounding me changed as well. The panic stopped as first one person halted and raised their fist to the sky, turning to face the press box defiantly. Then another stopped, and another, until the seas of orange and red rippled together in protest.
Neferet’s face flashed back on the video screens, only this time she didn’t look serene and beautiful. This time she looked more like the Neferet I knew too well—totally insane. Her green eyes were tinged with red and spittle flew from her lips as she shrieked at the camera.
“You will play this game or I will loose my Red Army on all of you! You have until the end of halftime intermission to decide!”
That sent a ripple of fear through the stadium, but Heath didn’t move. And the rest of the field held strong as well.
I keyed the walkie-talkie.
“Anastasia!”
“Here!”
“Call air!”
I concentrated and felt a gush of warm night air rush past me as it headed to the east, answering Anastasia’s call.
“Dragon—go!”
I paused until I felt the heat of flame, like someone had just turned on one of those outside propane heaters that restaurants like to use. Then I keyed the walkie-talkie again.
“Kev, your turn!” I shouted into the walkie-talkie, knowing he was somewhere at the top of the bleachers directly behind me.
As soon as I smelled the ocean I said, “Earth! Your turn, Stevie Rae!”
“Easy-peasy!” came her answer, followed by the scent of fresh-cut grass.
I drew a deep breath and concentrated on my intent—casting an Old Magick–ready circle.
“Spirit, I need you! Please come and complete my circle!”
The people closest to me had started to stare, so I did the only thing I could think to do. I took the sleeve of my sweatshirt and wiped off my forehead and face, exposing my adult vampyre tattoo. I smiled at the people around me.
“The Resistance is here. We’re going to help you. Spread the word. Try to stay calm.”
“But what can you do against the Red Army? They’re monsters! And if they bite us we die!”
“Look,” I pointed up and in a circular motion, following with my fingertip the glowing silver rope of light that ringed the entire stadium. “That’s my circle. We have more power than you know. Trust us. We’re here to stop Neferet for good.”
The people around me gasped. One woman stepped forward.
“Good luck. We’re counting on you,” she said. “And blessed be. My sister was Marked a long time ago. I still miss her.”
“Thank you!” I said.
“What can we do to help?” asked the man at her side.
“I need to get up there. Fast.” I pointed at the stadium seats above us and just below the press box.
The woman who’d spoken to me turned and called down the row to our right. “Jeremy! Help this young woman out, would ya, please? She needs to get up there real quick.” The woman pointed.
A giant of a man stood and started toward me. I could see his resemblance to the older woman.
“Sure, Mama,” he said. Then he looked at me. “Well, sis. Stay behind me and let’s get to gettin’. Best hold onto my belt so I don’t lose ya.”
I didn’t question him. I just did as he said. He turned. I grabbed his belt, and then he started climbing, taking giant steps up and over each row as people either parted to let him through, or he simply pushed them aside like they were curtains and he was determined to step through them onto a stage.
I followed in his wake, gratefully gripping his belt with both hands so that he almost carried me like a tail behind him.
“Sis, there’s a kid yellin’ and wavin’ at us. Is that who I’m takin’ ya to?”
I peeked around the mountain of a man to see Kev, flailing his arms over his head at us.
“Yep, that’s my brother.”
“Hang on!”
I hung on, and soon Jeremy deposited me right in front of Kevin. He was alone in the top row of the bleachers. Everyone else had fled toward the exits.
“Dude, that was seriously cool!” Kevin reached out to shake the giant guy’s hand.
“No problem. Need anything else?”
“No,” I said. “Go back to your family and keep everyone calm and together. We’ll take it from here. And thanks. Thanks a lot.”
“Welcome, sis.” And just as easily as he’d climbed up, Jeremy the Giant made his way back down.
“Okay, we’re calling Oak and the sprites now, right?” Kev asked.
“Not yet. First we need to get up there to the press box.” I glanced at the scoreboard. “We have exactly one minute and twenty-two seconds before halftime ends. That’s not enough time to negotiate with Oak to fix this mess, and if we don’t stop Neferet’s ‘Eat them all’ command, a lot of innocent humans will be killed.”
“How the hell do you think you’re gonna stop Neferet from commanding the Red Army to start killing?”
“I saw Stark go up there earlier. Hopefully, he’s still up there. I’m not going to stop Neferet. He doesn’t even have to stop her. All he has to do is—”
“Counter her command!” Kevin grinned. “That’ll at least confuse the armies and make them hesitate.”
“Yep, long enough for us to call the sprites and have them heal the red vampyres.”
“Good plan, Zo, but how do we get up there?” He pointed above us at the giant glass box.
“Well, as Stevie Rae would say, since we have all five elements here that should be easy-peasy. Trust me. This isn’t my first rodeo.” I keyed the walkie-talkie. “Anastasia! We’re going to need air. That means you have to concentrate and help us control your element. Ready to do that?”
“Yes, I am!” she said.
“Okay, here goes!” I held my hand out for Kevin’s, which he took without hesitation. “Focus on air—on how strong it is, how it surrounds us, fills us, and is always here for us.” Then I turned so that Kevin and I faced east. “Air! Hear my call! I am Zoey Redbird. This is my brother, Kevin Redbird. Nyx has gifted us with air affinities, and we need you to hear us. For the good of this world, we must be lifted up there.” I pointed to the very top section of the press box, knowing Neferet would never settle for seats that were anything but the best. “Air, take us there!” I squeezed Kevin’s hand tight. “Focus! And don’t let go of me!”
Kevin and I closed our eyes. I imagined air swirling around us, becoming tangible, like a gust of wind turned into the hand of the Goddess—cupping us in her palm and lifting us. In my mind’s eye I suddenly saw a clear image of Anastasia. She was sitting cross-legged at the top of the eastern bleachers, her eyes closed and her head tilted back. Her face was absolutely serene. Her long gray-streaked blond hair floated around her in invisible air currents. She was more radiant and beautiful than I’d ever seen her look.
And then Kevin and I were surrounded by a funnel of air. But this funnel wasn’t Oklahoma tornado crazy. It was soothing, serene, and warm. Safe within its eye, we began to lift.
�
�Wow! Hell yes, we have juice!”
I could hear the crowd below exclaiming in surprise, but I stayed focused thinking about air and how much I appreciated the invisible but powerful element. In seconds we were floating in front of a wall of windows behind which Neferet stood, glaring at us. Aphrodite was there too, watching us with wide-eyed surprise. There was also an ancient-looking Warrior—scarred, gnarled, and mean-eyed, watching us with a flat, calculating expression.
And there was Stark, who had just sprinted into the press box, mouth open, staring.
“How do we get in?” Kevin shouted over the funnel of air.
“The same way we got up here. Air can lift us, so air can also smash that glass.” I caught Aphrodite’s shocked gaze and mouthed, Get down. She didn’t hesitate. I saw her drop to the floor and then I raised both of my hands, taking Kevin’s with me. I turned my head to look at him. He met my eyes. “Imagine what we want, and then we ask air to push.” He nodded. I closed my eyes again, concentrating on a vision of air smacking against the glass and shattering it into a zillion tiny pieces that rained harmlessly to the empty top bleacher seats below us. Then I opened my eyes and told Kevin, “Push! Now!”
Kev and I pushed and, miraculously, air responded, smacking against the glass and shattering it into diamond dust before lifting us through the empty window frame and depositing us gently inside, just feet from Neferet.
33
Zoey
“Thank you, air!” I said before facing a glowering Neferet.
“Hi, Neferet. Remember me?”
“Insolent child!” she shouted. “I have never seen you before in my—” Her words broke off abruptly and I saw recognition flash across her face.
“That’s right. You thought you killed me. Guess what? I’m back! ” And without thinking, my body did something I’d wanted to do for ages. I closed the few feet between us and slapped her—hard—across the face.
“You little bitch!” Neferet’s hand flew to her cheek as from the shadows around her tendrils of Darkness began to hiss in anger and slither toward me.
