by P. C. Cast
So strange, he thought, a floating paper tissue. Without conscious thought, he tucked it into the pocket of his jeans. Shrugging off the odd, foreboding feeling, he kept walking.
Her emotions hit him after he’d taken two more steps.
Sadness—deep, pressing grief. And guilt. There was guilt there in her feelings, too.
Aurox knew it was the young fledgling High Priestess—the Zoey Redbird. He told himself he approached her only because it was wise to observe one’s enemy. But as he got closer—as her feelings flooded him—something unexpected happened within him. Instead of absorbing her emotions and feeding off them, Aurox absorbed them and felt.
He didn’t change. He didn’t begin to morph into the creature of great power.
Instead, Aurox felt.
Zoey’s grief drew him forward, and as he stood in the shadows that surrounded her and watched her sob, her emotion flowed into him, gathered and pooled in a small, quiet, hidden place deep inside his spirit. As Aurox absorbed Zoey’s sadness and guilt, loneliness and despair, something stirred within him in response.
It was utterly unexpected and completely unacceptable, but Aurox wanted to comfort Zoey Redbird. The impulse was so foreign to him that it shocked him into moving instinctively, as if his subconscious directed his body.
He stepped out of the darkness at the same moment she moved, pressing the palm of her hand to a place in the middle of her breast. She blinked, obviously trying to see through her tears, and her eyes found him. Her body straightened and she looked on the verge of bolting.
“No, you need not leave,” he heard himself saying.
“What do you want?” she said, and then she hiccuped another small sob.
“Nothing. I was passing. You were weeping. I heard.”
“I want to be alone,” she said, wiping at her face with the back of her hand and sniffling.
Aurox did not realize what he did next until he, along with the girl, were both looking at his hand and the tissue he’d pulled from his pocket to offer to her.
“Then I will leave you, but you need this,” he said, sounding stiff and foreign to his own ears. “Your face is very wet.”
She stared at the tissue for a moment more before taking it, then she looked up at him. “I snot when I cry.”
He felt his head nod. “Yes, you do.”
She blew her nose and wiped her face. “Thanks. I never have a Kleenex when I need one.”
“I know,” he said. Then he felt his face flush hot and his body go cold because there was absolutely no reason why he should say such a thing. He had no reason to talk to this fledgling enemy at all.
She was staring at him again, with an odd expression on her face. “What did you say?”
“That I must go.” Aurox turned and moved quickly away into the night. He expected the emotions she had made him feel to fade, to flow from him, just as the emotions of others had after he’d absorbed them, used them, cast them aside. But some of Zoey’s sadness stayed with him, as did her guilt and, most peculiarly of all, her loneliness stayed with him pooled in a deep, hidden abyss in his soul.
CHAPTER NINE
Zoey
I stared after Aurox for a long time.
What the hell?
I blew my nose again, shook my head, and looked at the wet, wadded mess of Kleenex in my hand. What game had Neferet’s creature been playing? Had she purposefully sent him out here after me to offer me a Kleenex and mess with my already totally messed-up head?
No, that couldn’t be right. Neferet didn’t know that Aurox giving me a Kleenex would remind me of Heath. No one would know that except Heath. Well, and Stark.
So it had to just be a weird coincidence. Sure, Aurox was some kind of creature of Neferet’s, but that didn’t mean he was immune to the effects of girl tears. He was a guy—at least I was pretty sure he was a guy. And anyway, he might not be one hundred percent one of Neferet’s mindless minions. He might be an okay guy—or at least he might be kinda okay when he wasn’t changing into a killing machine that looked like a bull. Hell, Stevie Rae had found a good Raven Mocker. Who knows what—
And then I realized what I was doing. I was Kalona-ing him. I was seeing goodness where there was none.
“Oh, hell no! I am soooo not going there,” I chastised myself aloud.
“Not going where, Z?” Stark walked into the courtyard, a box of Kleenex in his hand. “Hey, looks like you were snot prepared for a change,” he said, gesturing to my wadded mess of a tissue.
“Uh, I’ll take another one. Thanks,” I said, plucking a couple of tissues from the box and wiping my face again.
“So, where are you not going?” He sat down beside me on the bench. His shoulder brushed mine and I leaned into him.
“I’m just reminding myself not to let the crazy stuff that goes on around here make me crazy—or at least crazier.”
“You’re not crazy, Z. You’re going through some hard things, but you’re gonna be fine,” he said.
“I hope you’re right,” I muttered and then another, even more depressing thought struck me. “Um, did you tell the rest of the guys not to treat me all weird because of my mom?”
“I didn’t have to tell them. They’re your friends, Z. They’re gonna treat you like they care about you, not weirdly,” Stark said.
“I know, I know I just…” My voice trailed off. I didn’t know how to sift through and put into words the pain and guilt and terrible alone feeling not having a mom had left with me.
“Hey.” Stark stopped and looked down at me. “You’re not alone.”
“Are you listening to my thoughts? You know I don’t like it when—”
He took my shoulders in his hands and gave me a little shake. “It doesn’t take an Oath Bound Warrior’s link to know you’re feeling all by yourself. I don’t know any other kid whose mom is dead, do you?”
“No. Just me.” I bit my lip to keep from bawling. Again.
“See, it’s not tough to figure you out.” He kissed me then. Not with a hot, open mouth, I-want-in-your-panties kiss. Stark’s kiss was soft and sweet and reassuring. When his lips left mine he smiled into my eyes. “But, like I said before, you’re gonna come through all of this just fine and not crazy because you’re smart and strong and beautiful and basically covered with awesomesauce.”
I giggled unexpectedly. “Awesomesauce? Did you seriously just say that?”
“Hell yes I just said it! You are awesome, Z.”
“But awesomesauce?” I giggled again, and felt my stomach begin to unclench. “That’s the dorkiest thing I think I’ve ever heard you say.”
He clutched his chest like I’d just stabbed him. “Z, that hurts. I was trying to be romantic.”
“Well, at least you tried,” I said. “Please tell me you didn’t make that word up all by yourself.”
“Nah.” He gave me his cute, cocky grin. “I heard a bunch of third former girls say I was covered with it when they were watching me shoot my arrows in the arena last hour.”
“Reallly?” I raised a brow and gave him the stank eye. “Third former girls?”
The cocky part of his grin faded. “I meant to say unattractive third former girls.”
“I’m sure that’s exactly what you meant to say.”
His eyes sparkled. “Jealous?”
I snorted and lied. “No!”
“You don’t have to be jealous. Ever. Because you’re not just covered with awesomesauce. You’re what awesomesauce is made of.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep.”
“Promise?”
“Yep.”
I leaned against him. “Okay, I believe you, dork.” I rested my head on his shoulder and he put his arm around me. “Can we go home now?”
“Absolutely. Your short yellow limo is loaded and waiting for you.” He stood up and pulled me to my feet. Hand in hand we walked toward the parking lot. I snuck a sideways glance at him. He looked pleased with himself (and totally hot). Obviously
his dorky word game had been part of his plot to pull me out of the pit of depression I’d felt myself falling into.
Stark would have felt it, too, and not because he was “listening” inappropriately to my thoughts—because he was my Guardian and my Warrior and much, much more.
I squeezed his hand. “Thanks.”
He glanced at me, smiled, then lifted my hand to his lips. “No problem. Just wait ’til you hear the word I’m thinking up to describe your boobs. This time it’ll be totally made up. I don’t need the help of any unattractive third formers for this.”
“No. Just no.”
“But you might need more cheering up.”
“Nope. I’m a-okay. Boob talk is so not necessary.”
“Well, remember that I’m here if you need me,” he said, grinning again. “Ready, willing, and able.”
“That’s a comfort. Thanks.”
“All part of my Guardian job description,” he said.
I lifted both of my brows this time. “Did you actually get a job description?”
“Kinda. Seoras said, ‘Take care o’ yur queen or I’ll be finishin’ the wee scratchin’ I started on yu,’” he said, sounding freakishly like the ancient Scottish Guardian.
“Wee?” I shuddered, remembering the bloody knife wounds that had been slashed all across his chest. How could I ever forget? Even if they weren’t still fresh pink scars, despite the healing power of my elements and my blood. “Wee is definitely not how I’d describe them.”
“Ach, well, lassie. It wasna much more than pussy scratches.”
I felt my eyes go wide, and then I punched him on his arm. “Pussy!”
He rubbed his arm, and in his regular voice said, “Z, it means cat in Scotland. Really.”
“You.” I scowled at him. “Are a guy.”
For some goofy reason that made him laugh, and he put his arms around me, enfolding me in a giant hug. “Yeah, I’m a guy. Your guy. And I want you to remember that beyond all this stuff,” he paused, pulled back far enough so he could gesture at the House of Night and the short bus that waited a little way from where we were now standing, “and my Warrior stuff, and even my Guardian stuff, I love you, Zoey Redbird. And I’ll always be there for you when you need me.”
I stepped back into his arms and breathed a long sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“There she is!” I heard Kramisha’s voice shouting and I sighed, pretty sure I was the “she” she was talking about. I looked up and, sure enough, Kramisha was standing in front of the loaded short bus with Stevie Rae, Aphrodite, Damien, the Twins, Erik, and a red fledgling I didn’t recognize. Keeping Stark’s hand in mine I walked the rest of the way to the bus.
“I’m sorry ’bout your momma. That’s bad,” Kramisha said in greeting.
“Um, th-thanks,” I stuttered, and had just started thinking that I was going to have to come up with a non-awkward way to respond to people who were telling me they were sorry my mom was dead when Kramisha continued with, “Z, I know it ain’t good timin’, but we got us a problem.”
I stifled another sigh. “We, as in me, or we as in you?”
“We think this problem might spill over onto all of us,” Stevie Rae said.
“Great,” I said.
“Zoey, this is Shaylin.” Erik introduced me to the unfamiliar girl, who was studying me like she wished she had me under a microscope. Jeesh, it was a pain to meet new kids.
“Hi, Shaylin,” I said, trying to sound normal while I ignored her stare.
“Purple,” she said.
“I thought Erik said your name was Shaylin,” I said, even though I wanted to shriek Yes! It’s me! The one with the weird tattoos!
“My name is Shaylin.” She gave me a really warm, really nice smile. “You’re purple.”
“She’s not Purple, she’s Zoey,” Stark said, sounding as confused as I felt.
“You’re also flecks of silver.” Shaylin finished staring at me and then turned her gaze to him. “You’re red and gold and a little black. Huh. That’s weird.”
“Okay, I’m not—”
“Oh, for shit’s sake,” Aphrodite interrupted, pointing at Shaylin. “This new kid’s name is Shaylin, and she’s not calling you colors, she’s seeing your colors.”
“My colors? I don’t have a clue what that means,” I said, frowning at Aphrodite and then giving Shaylin a big question mark look.
“I don’t really know what it means, either,” Shaylin said. “It just happened to me, right after I was Marked.”
“I think Shaylin has been gifted with something called True Sight,” Damien said. “It’s rare. I think there’s something about it in the Advanced Fledgling Handbook, but I only peeked at one of those.” He looked embarrassed and apologetic. “I didn’t really study it.”
“Damien, you’re only a forth former. It wasn’t part of your classwork,” Stevie Rae said.
“Hello, talk about homework obsessed,” Erin muttered.
“Seriously,” Shaunee added.
“Look.” I raised my voice so everyone would gawk at me instead of launching into the bickering I was pretty sure was getting ready to start. “I don’t know what True Sight is, but if it’s a gift, and I’m assuming you mean from Nyx, then why is that a problem?” I said.
“She’s a red fledgling,” Aphrodite said.
“So? There’s a whole short bus full of them,” I said, gesturing behind them.
“Yeah, and each of us had to die and then un-die before we got us these.” Kramisha pointed at the red outline of a crescent moon on her forehead.
I stared at her, then at the new kid, and then my mind caught up with my eyes. I looked at Erik. “You just Marked her in red?”
“No. Yes.” Erik shook his head and looked worried as hell. “I didn’t mean to. I Marked her. Okay, yes, it didn’t go exactly according to plan, but that was because she was blind, and that surprised me.” We all stared at him and he ran his hand through his thick, dark hair. His shoulders slumped. Then he added, “I messed up, and that’s why she’s a red fledgling and can see our colors.”
“You didn’t mess up, Erik.” It looked like Shaylin started to reach out to pat Erik’s arm, but halfway through the motion changed her mind. Her gaze moved to me and she continued, “Before he Marked me I was blind. I’ve been blind since I was a kid. The second he Marked me I could see again, and that’s not a mess up. That’s amazing.”
“Ah! I knew I felt a new fledgling!” At the sound of Neferet’s voice we all jumped like she’d Tasered us. She was hurrying toward us, her long green velvet gown sweeping the ground and making it appear as if she was gliding instead of walking (which was super creepy). “Merry meet, I am Neferet, your High Priestess.” She turned her attention briefly to Erik, and I could see displeasure flash in her eyes. “Professor Night, you should not have brought the child here.” Neferet reached Shaylin and made a graceful, apologetic gesture to her. “Young fledgling, the Tracker should have instructed you to come to the female dormitory where you will join the rest of the—” She broke off when she finally saw Shaylin’s Mark.
“Yeah,” I said, unable to keep my mouth shut any longer. “She’s red. Which means she is in the right place.”
“And I’m her High Priestess. Not you,” Stevie Rae finished for me.
“Oh! You’re … oh, I don’t feel well!” Shaylin was staring at Neferet when she suddenly collapsed. Erik caught her before she conked her head on the ground, managing to look scared and hero-like at the same time. (Seriously, he’s an excellent actor.)
“She’s been through a lot,” Aphrodite said, stepping up to stand toe to toe with Neferet. “She needs to go home. To the depot. With us. Now.”
I held my breath as Neferet’s eyes narrowed and her gaze flicked around at each kid in our group. All vampyres are intuitive, but Neferet is more than that. She can read minds. Well, most fledglings’ minds—or at least the surface of their thoughts. I sent a quick, silent prayer up to the Goddess: Please let
each of them think about everything and anything except the fact that this new kid may have True Sight—whatever that is.
Suddenly Neferet’s suspicious expression changed. She laughed. She actually laughed. I had no idea how it was possible, but her laugh sounded horrible and mean and sarcastic. How could laughter be so awful?
“She was blind. That’s why she’s been Marked red. She’s broken. She just didn’t have to die to get that way. Well, at least not yet she hasn’t died.”
Kramisha was standing beside me, so I saw her little jerk of fear. So did Neferet. The pretend High Priestess smiled at our Poet Laureate. “What is it? Did you actually believe that red outline guaranteed you the Change?” She cocked her head to the side, reminding me of a reptile. “Yes, I can sense your shock and fear. You hadn’t thought of that. Your body can still reject the Change.”
“You don’t know that for sure.” Stevie Rae stepped closer to Kramisha.
“Don’t I?” Again, Neferet’s laugh was mean and awful. She jerked her chin at Shaylin, who was still passed out in Erik’s arms. “That one feels odd to me.” She shifted her gaze to Aphrodite. I saw Aphrodite put her fists on her waist, as if bracing herself for a physical blow. “A little like you feel, and you’re not even a fledgling anymore.”
“No, I’m not. But I am happy with what I am. How about you, Neferet?”
Instead of an answer, Neferet said, “Take the new fledgling with you. You’re right about one thing, Aphrodite. Her home is with you and the rest of the misfits, not here. What in the name of all the gods will Nyx come up with next?”
And then, laughing, she turned her back dismissively on us and slithered away.
When she was out of hearing range I let out a long breath. “Good job, all of you, in not thinking about the True Sight thing.”
“She scares me,” Kramisha said in a voice that sounded very, very young.
Stevie Rae put her arm around Kramisha. “It’s okay to be scared of her. That’ll just make us fight harder against her.”
“Or run faster,” Erik said grimly.
