Destined (House of Night Book 9)

by P. C. Cast

  “For how long?” he asked her. “How long must I hide from this vampyre?”

  She shook her head. “I got a warning, not a timeline.”

  “I’d rather not hide.”

  “I’d rather not have you dead,” Stevie Rae said.

  “I’d rather sleep,” Aphrodite said.

  “All right, let’s go,” I said. I handed Darius my last bottle of water. “Try to make her drink this between glasses of wine.”

  “I’m right here. You don’t have to talk about me like I can’t hear you.” She made a toasting gesture with her glass and then drained it.

  “You’re under the influence, so I’m ignoring you,” I said. “Get some rest. I’ll talk to you later.”

  We moved from Aphrodite’s room, Rephaim and Stevie Rae holding hands and talking in low voices to each other as we made our way up through the tunnels and outside where we were going to wait for a very confused delivery boy who I was going to be sure got an excellent tip.

  “What do you think about the vision?” Stark asked, putting his arm around me and holding me close to him.

  “I think Stevie Rae is going to be a problem. She’s going to try to protect Rephaim so much that she’s gonna end up getting him killed.”

  Stark nodded and looked grim. “That’s how Darkness works. It turns love into something bad.”

  His words surprised me. He sounded so cynical, so old. “Stark, Darkness can’t turn love into anything. Love is the only thing that lasts through Darkness and death and destruction. You know that—or you used to.”

  He stopped then and all of a sudden I was in his arms and he was holding me so tight that he almost stopped my breath.

  “What is it?” I whispered to him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Sometimes I think I should have been the one to die and Heath should have been the one who stayed with you. He believed in love a lot more than I do.”

  “I don’t think the amount of belief you have is what’s important. I think it’s what you have belief in that matters.”

  “Then we’ll be okay because I believe in you,” he said.

  I wrapped my arms around him and held on, trying to reassure him and myself with touch when words just didn’t seem to be enough.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Neferet

  How goes the pursuit of chaos, my heartless one? The white bull’s deep voice echoed through her mind.

  Neferet turned almost in a complete circle before she caught sight of his luminous, magickal coat, his massive horns, his cloven hoofs. He was approaching her from behind the tomb over which the statue of an angelic young girl looked down, head bowed. Time had crumbled one of her stone hands and Neferet thought her expression made it seem as if the angel had given part of herself as an offering, perhaps to the white bull.

  The thought made Neferet burn with jealousy.

  She walked to meet her bull, moving slowly, languorously. Neferet knew she was beautiful, yet still she felt compelled to pull power from the surrounding shadows to enhance herself. Her long, thick hair glistened, much like the liquid silk of her black gown. She’d chosen it because it reminded her of Darkness—reminded her of her bull.

  Neferet stopped before him and dropped gracefully to her knees. “The pursuit of chaos goes well, my lord.”

  So, I am your lord? How interesting.

  Neferet tilted her head back and smiled seductively up at the massive god. “Would you rather I call you my Consort?”

  Ah, the naming of a thing. There is power in it.

  “There is, indeed.” Neferet lifted her hand and touched one of his thick horns. It glistened like opals.

  I approve of your name for the vessel. Aurox, after the great and mighty auroch bulls of old. There is something fitting and right in that name.

  “I am glad you approve, my lord,” she said, thinking that still he hadn’t said whether she could or could not call him Consort.

  And how does he serve you, this creature created through an imperfect sacrifice?

  “He serves me well. I see no imperfection when I look at him, only a gracious gift from you.”

  You will remember that I warned you, though, will you not? The vessel may be cracked.

  “The vessel himself is unimportant,” Neferet said dismissively. “He is simply a means to an end.” She stood and moved closer to him. “We need not waste precious moments speaking of Aurox. He will serve me, and serve me well—or he will cease to exist.”

  You cast aside my gifts so easily?

  “Oh, no, my lord!” she assured him. “I simply listen to you and hear your warning. Can we not speak of something more pleasurable than an empty vessel?”

  You mentioned Consort. It brought to mind something I would like to show you—something you might, perhaps, find interesting.

  “I am yours to command, my lord.” Neferet curtseyed.

  The enormous incarnation of Darkness knelt, offering his back to her. Come, my heartless one.

  Neferet climbed astride him. His coat was ice—slick and cold and impenetrable. He carried her into the night, sliding inhumanly fast through shadows, riding the currents of night, using the hidden, horrible things that always, always did his bidding, until he finally halted in the thickest shadows under ancient, winter nude trees on a ridge southwest of Tulsa.

  “Where are we?” Neferet shivered as she clung to him.

  Quietly, my heartless one. Observe silently. Watch. Listen.

  Neferet watched, listened, and very soon what she believed to be a tall, muscular man descended from one of three stilted wooden shacks that sat atop the ridge before her. He walked to the edge of the ridge and sat on a huge, flat sandstone boulder.

  It was only after he sat that she saw his wings. Kalona! She thought his name, did not speak it, but the bull answered her. Yes, it is your old Consort, Kalona. Let us move closer. Let us observe. The night around them rippled and reformed, cloaking the bull and Neferet eerily, so that it seemed they were only part of the fabric of shadows and the lazy mist that had suddenly begun to unfurl over the ridge.

  Neferet held her breath as the bull moved silently and invisibly closer to Kalona, so close that she could see over his broad shoulder and realized he was holding a cellular phone. He began touching the screen, and Neferet could see it light up. The winged immortal hesitated, his finger hovering indecisively.

  Do you know what you are seeing?

  Neferet stared at Kalona. His shoulders slumped. He rubbed his forehead. He bowed his head as if in defeat and finally, reluctantly, placed the phone gently on the rock beside him.

  No, Neferet thought. I do not know what I’m seeing.

  Kalona, fallen Warrior of Nyx, longs for someone who is absent from him. Someone he does not have the courage to contact.

  Me? She couldn’t stop the thought.

  The bull’s humorless laughter drifted through her mind. No, my heartless one. Your old Consort longs for the company of his son.

  Rephaim! Neferet’s anger began to build. He longs for that boy?

  He does, though he has not yet put words to the feeling. Do you know what that means?

  Neferet thought before she spoke. She discarded jealously and envy and all the trappings of mortal love. Then, and only then did she truly understand. Yes. It means Kalona has a very big weakness.

  It does, indeed.

  They began to fade away from the ridge, slipping from shadow to shadow, riding the night. Neferet stroked the bull’s neck, thought about new possibilities, and smiled.

  Rephaim

  “We gotta talk about Aphrodite’s vision,” Stevie Rae said.

  Rephaim took one of her curls and twirled it around a finger. When he’d completely captured it, he tugged playfully. “You talk. I will touch your hair.”

  She smiled, but gently pushed his hand away. “Rephaim, stop. Be serious. Aphrodite’s vision is scary.”

  “Did you not tell me Aphrodite foretold Zoey’s death? Twice. As well as her grandmother
’s? Each time the foretelling of those deaths made it possible for them to have been averted.” Rephaim caressed her cheek and kissed her gently before saying, “We will use this vision to avert my death as well.”

  “’Kay. That sounds good to me.” She nuzzled his hand with her cheek. “But we gotta be clear about somethin’. Dragon’s some kinda key, so you really do need to stay away from him.”

  “Yes. I know.” He caressed the side of her head, loving the softness of her hair, and let his fingers trail slowly down her neck and shoulder.

  “Rephaim, please listen to me.” Stevie Rae took his face between her hands and made him stop touching her hair and her skin.

  “I’m listening to you.” Reluctantly, he focused his attention on her words.

  “I’ve been thinkin’ that maybe I was wrong. Maybe you do need to stay here and not go to school, and for sure not go to whatever ritual we do out at Z’s g-ma’s farm, or at least you need to stay away until we figure out more of the details about Aphrodite’s vision.”

  Rephaim took her hands from his face and held them in his own. “Stevie Rae, if I begin hiding now, when will it end?”

  “I don’t know, but I do know you’ll be alive.”

  “There are worse things than death. Being trapped by your fear of it is one of those things.” He smiled. “Actually, I find the whole thing curiously positive. The vision means that I am truly human.”

  “What the heck do you mean? Of course you’re human.”

  “I look human, or at least I do until the sun rises. Being mortal makes me truly what I appear to be.”

  “But doesn’t knowing your immortal blood is gone make you sad?”

  “No, it makes me a little more normal.”

  Stevie Rae’s bright blue eyes widened. “You know what else it makes you? Not being part of Kalona’s blood anymore.”

  Rephaim tried to understand Stevie Rae’s denial of his father. He really did, but he couldn’t help the defensive, almost angry feeling that came over him when she tried to push him away from the winged immortal.

  “Do you believe it takes more than blood to make a father?” He spoke slowly, trying to reason through his feelings and find the truth beneath them.

  “Yep, absolutely,” she said.

  “Then it stands to reason that the absence of blood does not automatically unmake a father, too.” Before she could rebut what he was saying, he continued, “Kalona is immortal, but I was by his side long enough to glimpse humanity within that immortality.”

  “Rephaim, I don’t want to argue about your daddy. I know you think I hate him, but that’s not it. I hate that he hurts you.”

  “I understand that.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head, breathing in the sweet, familiar scent of girl and shampoo and soap. “But you must let me find my own way in this. He is my father. Nothing will change that.”

  “Okay, I’ll try to lay off the speeches about staying away from Kalona, but I want you to promise me you’ll think about staying away from Dragon—at least for a little while.”

  “That is an easy promise to make. I already try to avoid the Sword Master because I know the sight of me causes him pain, but I will not hide. I cannot hide from Dragon any more than I can hide from my father.”

  She pulled back and looked at him. “We’re in this together, aren’t we?”

  He met her gaze. “We are. Always.”

  “All right. Let’s stay together, even if it’s dangerous. I’ll protect you,” she said.

  “And I will protect you,” he agreed. Rephaim kissed her then, long and slow. He held her close for just a few moments more, letting her scent and her sweetness blanket him.

  “You have to go now?” She spoke with her face buried in his chest.

  “You know I do.”

  “I’m gonna quit asking that I go up there with you ’cause I know you don’t want me to, but I want you to know that if you ever change your mind I’ll be with you until the very end. ’Cause even when you’re a bird, you’re my bird.”

  That made him chuckle. “I never thought of it like that, but I am your bird, and your bird needs to go out to the morning sky and stretch his wings.”

  “Okie dokie.” He liked that she let go of him first and beamed an enthusiastic, if not totally believable smile at him. “I’ll be here when you fly home.”

  “Good, because I will always fly home to you.” He kissed her quickly, pulled on his shirt, and left their room. He was glad he’d left before his skin started that awful prickling. He hated the panicked feeling it gave him to run through the tunnels, yearning harder and harder for the aboveground world and the beckoning sky.

  Just a little way from the last tunnel junction before the basement exit, he saw something move within the shadows and he automatically took a defensive stance.

  “Hey, relax. It’s just me.”

  He did relax as he recognized Shaunee’s voice, followed closely by the girl herself as she emerged from the right-hand branch of the tunnel. She looked disheveled and was carrying a large plastic basket.

  “Hello, Shaunee,” he said. “Are you well?”

  “Yeah, I guess. I have one more load of my stuff to haul from Erin’s room to my new place down there.” She pointed her thumb behind her at the darkness. “And, yes, I know I’m gonna have to string lights.”

  “You need light?”

  She grinned, held up her hand, palm flat, blew on it, and a little flame appeared, dancing merrily. “Well, not really, but anyone who wants to come visit probably does.”

  “I’ll help you do that tomorrow if you’d like,” he heard himself saying, and then suddenly wished he hadn’t. What if she was like most of the other fledglings, and really didn’t want much to do with him?

  He needn’t have been worried. Shaunee didn’t reject him. Actually, her grin got bigger. “That’d be awesome. I was gonna try to put some up when I brought back the last load of stuff, but moving sucks and all I really want to do is curl up on my very comfy new bed and rewatch the last episode of Game of Thrones on my iPad. I really like me some Daenerys.”

  “Stevie Rae and I have been watching that, too. You know it has ravens in it.”

  “Yeah, and dragons and dead things and a cool dwarf, which should be all whatthefuckery and crazy, which it is but in a good way.” She bit her lip and looked like she was trying to decide whether to say more, so Rephaim just stood there, waiting, even when his skin began to tingle. Finally, Shaunee said in a very small voice, “Erin never liked it. She said it was too Dungeons and Dragons dorkified, and I agreed out loud with her, but I used to sneak and watch it while she was sleeping.”

  Rephaim wasn’t sure how he should respond to that. He didn’t really understand why the two girls used to need to act as if they were one person, so he also found it difficult to understand why they both, in their own ways, seemed so upset and lost now. “Maybe you could watch it with Stevie Rae and me when the new season begins?” he offered.

  “Would Stevie Rae make buttered popcorn? She used to make awesome buttered popcorn.”

  “She still does, so yes, I’m saying she will make the popcorn. With butter.”

  “Oooh, yum. I’m in. And, thanks, Rephaim.”

  “You are welcome. I must go now…” he trailed off as he began moving away from her toward the basement exit to above.

  “Hey, I heard about Aphrodite’s vision. I just wanta say I hope you don’t get dead.”

  “I hope I don’t get dead, either.” He paused, and then added, “If something does happen to me, would you call that phone you gave Father and tell him?”

  “Yeah, of course. But nothing’s gonna happen to you. I hope. And, plus, you don’t have to get dead—you can call that phone whenever you want to, you know, just to talk to him.”

  Rephaim realized he’d never even thought of something so simple, so mundane, so normal—to just call his father. “I will. Soon,” he said, and he meant it. “I’ll see you after sunset.
”

  “See ya,” she called.

  Then Rephaim did have to hurry through the last part of the tunnel and rush up the iron ladder and through the basement, but he didn’t mind. His last thought before the raven and the sky overtook his human mind was that he was glad Shaunee and Erin had stopped being one person because Shaunee, all by herself, was a nice girl. And along with Damien and maybe even Zoey, they might possibly be the first true friends he’d ever had …

  Kalona

  There was something about the night that wouldn’t let him rest. His sons were asleep, warm and safe and nesting in the three hunters’ blinds. He should have been sleeping, too. Instead he found himself out on the ridge, sitting on a huge, flat-topped boulder, thinking.

  The iPhone was in his hand. He considered the modern world and the strange magick it had developed. He couldn’t decide if he liked it better than the ancient world. Certainly, it was more comfortable. Absolutely, it was more complicated. But better? Kalona tended to believe it was not.

  He looked at the phone. The fledgling had given it so that he could contact Rephaim, yet the boy was not listed in the contacts. Silly, useless thing, he thought. And then, on second thought, he realized Stevie Rae was in the contact list. Contact the Red One and he would contact his son.

  He did not want to speak with the Red One. She was at the root of his problems. Had she not interfered, Rephaim would be here, by his side, as was the proper order of things.

  Or Rephaim would be dead after bleeding out, broken and alone that terrible night. And would that not have been a better, more fitting end for my son than to be shackled to a young vampyre and her unforgiving Goddess?

  The thoughts had barely formed in his head when Kalona regretted them.

  No, it would not be better if Rephaim had died.

  And Nyx was not unforgiving. She’d forgiven his son. It was only him she refused to forgive.

  Kalona spoke to the heavens, “It is ironic that in doing my son a kindness, you have done me a cruelty. You’ve taken from me the last creature in this world that truly loved me.” His voice was lost quickly to the night and he was completely alone. Goddess, he was tired of being alone!