“No, actually, I’ve never died,” he joked back.
“Well, Neferet’s comment can be easily explained. I am not Death herself. It is simply that I have been gifted with an affinity for aiding the dead to pass from this realm to the next. I am no more Death than you are Humanity. We both are just representations of the two. It might help you understand if you would think of me as a very accurate medium.”
“Neferet also mentioned a new type of vampyre—a red vampyre, and suggested that they might be dangerous.” I watched the camera shift from Stark to Stevie Rae. “Could you elaborate on that, as well?”
“Certainly, but first I feel I need to make one point very clear. Neferet is no longer in the employ of the Tulsa House of Night. In truth, the way our society works, once a High Priestess loses her job, she has lost that position for life. She will never serve as High Priestess at any other House of Night. As you can imagine that can be a difficult and often embarrassing transition for the terminated employee, as well as for her employer. Vampyres do not have slander and liable laws. We use the oath and honor system. Obviously this time that system did not work.”
“So what you’re saying is that Neferet is…” His word trailed off, and he nodded, encouraging Thanatos to finish the sentence for him.
“Yes, it is a sad but true fact, Neferet is a disgruntled ex-employee with no whistle to blow,” Thanatos said smoothly.
Adam glanced at Stark, who was standing beside me not far from Thanatos. “That ex-employee made some disturbing comments about one House of Night member in particular—James Stark.”
“That’s me,” Stark said right away. I could tell he was uncomfortable, but I don’t think anyone else, including the TV audience, would see anything except a very cute guy with red facial tattooing that looked like opposing arrows.
“So, Jim. Is it okay that I call you that?” Adam asked.
“Well, it is, but it’d be cool with me if you called me Stark. Everyone else does.”
“Okay, Stark, Neferet said you killed your mentor at the Chicago House of Night, and she implied that you’re a threat to the community here. Would you care to respond to that?”
“Well, that’s a bunch of bullpoopie!” I heard my mouth saying.
Stark grinned his cocky half smile and took my hand, threading his fingers through mine for all of the video audience to see. “Z, don’t almost cuss on film. Your grandma might hear and that wouldn’t be cool.”
“Sorry,” I muttered. “How about I just let you talk.”
Stark’s grin got bigger. “Well, that’ll be a first.”
Annoyingly enough, my friends all laughed. I scowled. Stark kept speaking, even though I considered smothering him with a pillow next time we slept.
His voice was hesitant at first, but the longer he talked, the stronger and surer he became. “My mentor, William Chidsey, was awesome. He was nice. And smart. I mean, really smart. And talented. He helped me. Actually, he was more like a father than a mentor to me.” Stark paused and wiped his hand across his face. When he started talking again it was as if it were just him and the reporter, alone, like he’d forgotten that the camera was there at all. “Adam, I found out pretty early, when I was what humans would call a sophomore in high school, that I’d been given this gift.” Stark enunciated the word, not sarcastically, but not like it was an awesome thing, either. His voice said his gift was a responsibility, and not a cool responsibility at that. “I can’t miss my mark. I’m an archer,” he explained when Adam gave him a questioning look. “You know, bow and arrows. Well, whatever I aim at—I hit. Unfortunately, it’s not as literal as that. Think about it—there’s lots of wiggle room between what you’re looking at, and what you’re really thinking about, and what you’re aiming at. Here’s a simple example: imagine taking a bow and arrow and aiming at a stop sign. So, you draw the bow, point the arrow, and sight the middle of a big red sign. But what if, inside your head you’re thinking, ‘Okay, I want to hit that thing that stops cars.’ Next thing you know your arrow has found its way smack through the radiator of the next car that drives by.”
“Well, I see how that might cause some big problems,” Adam said.
“Yeah, big as in epic proportions. It took me a while to figure it out and to be able to control it. Between then and now, I made a really terrible mistake.” Stark paused again and I squeezed his hand, trying to telegraph my support through it. “And because of that my mentor died. I won’t let it happen again. I’ve given my oath on it.”
“And that is why James Stark is here at the Tulsa House of Night.” Thanatos took up the thread of conversation, and the camera followed her. “We believe in second chances in Tulsa.” Her gaze shifted to Aphrodite. I had to make my mouth not flop open as she continued smoothly, “Would you not say that this is an excellent place for second chances, Aphrodite LaFont?”
I shouldn’t have worried. With the camera rolling Aphrodite was totally in her element. She walked forward, toward the camera (of course), then sat at Thanatos’s side. “I couldn’t agree with you more, High Priestess. I was a fledgling for almost four years, but Nyx, our benevolent Goddess, chose to take my Mark from me and to replace it with a prophetic gift. My parents agree with my decision to remain at the House of Night. Actually, we’ve talked about the possibility of me serving an internship with the High Council in Venice when I graduate from here. My mom and dad are super supportive.” She grinned into the camera. “You can tell that if you pull our credit card bills for the last few months. Wow! I have such awesomely cool parents!”
Okay, seriously. That was such a load of stinking, festering bullpoopie that I couldn’t even speak. Thankfully, Stevie Rae was not so mute.
“Speaking of amazing parents, my mom, Ginny Johnson, is gonna make the best chocolate chip cookies in the known universe, and bring them to the open house and bake sale we’re havin’ here real soon, right, Thanatos?”
Thanatos didn’t miss a beat. “You are absolutely correct, Stevie Rae. This coming weekend, should the tempestuous Oklahoma weather allow, we are planning a campus open house. We are hoping that Street Cats will be here with cats for adoption. Actually, I’d like to announce right now that all proceeds from our bake sale”—she smiled in Stevie Rae’s direction—“will go to benefit our local charity, Street Cats. In addition, the grandmother of our fledging High Priestess, Zoey Redbird, is going to have her lavender products for sale on our grounds.”
“Don’t forget the job fair.”
Everyone, including the cameraman, turned at the sound of our Horse Mistress’s voice. Lenobia was standing there, leading her beautiful black mare, Mujaji, who looked like an absolute dream.
“Professor Lenobia, how good of you to join our press conference,” Thanatos said.
“Wow! What a gorgeous horse he is!” Adam gushed as the cameraman did a close-up on Mujaji.
Damien touched Adam’s arm and grinned. “Honey, that’s a she, not a he.”
“Oh, my mistake.” Adam took it all in stride, smiling with a cute flush to his cheeks. “The guy-girl thing never made much difference to me.”
“Because we’re all the same.” I heard the words coming from my mouth, and silently thanked Nyx for them. “Guy, girl, human, vampyre, what difference does it make? We’re sharing Tulsa, and we love it. So, let’s just all get along!”
Thanatos laughed, and the sound was like music. “Oh, Zoey, I could not have said it better myself. And Lenobia, you were correct to remind me. Adam, I would like to announce this evening that during the open house and Street Cat benefit, the Tulsa House of Night will, as the first House of Night in our written history, be taking job applications for human professors. We will be interviewing for professorial positions in our drama department, as well as in our literature department.” Thanatos stood and opened her arms, looking benevolent and wise. “The House of Night welcomes Tulsa. Until Saturday we wish you all merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Neferet
Neferet would not have seen the press conference had she not called room service to her penthouse suite. The pleasingly subservient blond boy was almost young enough to interest her. The last bellboy who had had the good fortune to answer her summons would be calling in sick for the next several days. Weak and bruised, he would not remember anything except a fascination for her beauty and a series of dark, erotic dreams. Fever dreams, his doctor would no doubt call them. Humans were such frail creatures. Such a shame that she constantly needed to find a new plaything.
Neferet studied this bellboy. He was tall, and he looked extremely nervous. His skin was bad. He practically oozed virgin from his over-sized pores. Thinking that virgin blood would mix nicely with the chilled bottle of champagne he was carrying past her, she motioned to her sitting room.
“Please, bring the bottle inside my suite,” Neferet purred.
Virgin blood was so very sweet that a bad complexion and sweaty palms could be easily overlooked. After all, she was not going to touch him. At least not very much …
“Is right here fine, ma’am?” His eyes kept flitting from her breasts to her mouth and then back to the bottle he was opening, all the while he reeked of sexual desire, fear, and fascination.
“Right there is perfect.” Neferet ran a long, pointed fingernail down the low bodice of her silk robe.
“Wow,” he gulped, working the gold foil off the top of the champagne with inexperienced, shaky hands. “I hope you don’t mind me sayin’ this, but you’re way prettier than those other vampyres on the news.”
“Other vampyres? News?”
“Yes, ma’am. They’re on Fox 23 late night right now.”
“Turn it on for me!” she snapped.
“But the champagne’s not—”
“Leave it! I am fully capable of opening it myself. Put on the news and go.”
The boy did as he was told and then slunk out, still casting longing glances at her. Neferet paid him no mind. She was utterly engrossed in the scene unfolding before her on the large flat screen television. It was Thanatos, Zoey, and several of her group. They were outside at the House of Night, clustered together and talking easily with the reporter. Neferet scowled. They all looked so normal.
Her lip curled as she heard Thanatos explain away Dragon Lankford’s death as a tragic bison accident.
“That wretched Aurox,” Neferet muttered. “Imperfect, inept Vessel! All of this is his fault.”
She kept watching the interview, smirking at Stark and Zoey, only concentrating when she heard her name mentioned. Neferet pressed the volume button and Thanatos’s voice blared, “… Neferet is a disgruntled ex-employee with no whistle to blow…”
Neferet’s body became very cold.
“She dares to name me an employee!” Neferet continued to watch. Her anger built to such intensity that the glass door to the penthouse balcony burst open, raining shards of crystal across the marble floor.
“We’re sharing Tulsa, and we love it. So, let’s just all get along!” Zoey’s ridiculously cheerful voice grated up and down Neferet’s spine.
“I will not allow you to undo what I have begun, you obnoxious child!” Neferet seethed. When Thanatos announced that the Tulsa House of Night would be taking applications for human professors her mouth gaped along with the reporters. After the new High Priestess’s benevolent, merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again, Neferet watched in disbelief as the news anchors chattered inanely about how interesting all the vampyre interaction was and how great the open house and job fair would be for the city as a still shot close-up of Zoey’s smiling face decorated the screen. She punched the power button, unable to bear one more instant of Zoey Redbird.
From the clever little alcove that was tucked between the living room and the dining room, Neferet’s computer began to ring. On the screen the silhouetted figure of Nyx’s upraised arms flashed and beside the icon were the words: VAMPYRE HIGH COUNCIL.
Neferet walked slowly over to the computer and clicked the mouse to answer, automatically activating the video camera. She smiled coolly at the six somber High Priestesses seated on their carved marble thrones. “I have been expecting your call.”
Duantia, the senior member of the Vampyre High Council, spoke first. Neferet thought she sounded very, very old. There certainly seemed to be more silver than brown in her long, thick hair, and Neferet was sure she could see bags under her dark eyes. “You were summoned to appear before us, yet there you are in Tulsa, and here we are in Venice. What has delayed you?”
“I am busy.” Neferet pitched her voice to sound more amused than annoyed. Or afraid. She must never allow them to believe she feared them, or anyone, at all. “It is not convenient to make a trip to Italy at this time.”
“Then you force us to pass judgment over you in absente reo.”
Neferet scoffed. “Save your Latin for vampyres too old to live in the present.”
Duantia continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Our sister High Priestess, and the seventh member of this Council, Thanatos, has produced irrefutable evidence though a reveal ritual witness by High Priestess Zoey Redbird, her—”
“That insolent child isn’t a High Priestess!”
“You will not interrupt me!” Even through the Internet, thousands of miles away, Duantia’s power was palpable. It was only with a supreme effort that Neferet didn’t cringe from the computer screen.
“Say what you must. I will not interrupt again,” Neferet said emotionlessly.
“The reveal ritual over which Thanatos presided was witnessed by the young High Priestess, Zoey Redbird; her circle, each member of which has been gifted by Nyx with an elemental affinity; as well as several Sons of Erebus Warriors. During this ritual the earth gave record that you murdered a human, sacrificing her to the white bull of Darkness, who appears to be your Consort.”
Neferet watched the High Council members shift nervously, as if just hearing the word Consort associated with the white bull was difficult for them to bear. That pleased her. Very shortly the High Council would have to bear more than simple words.
“Neferet, what do you say in your defense?” Duantia concluded.
Neferet drew herself up to her full height. She felt the threads of Darkness rustle around her, lapping at her ankles and slithering around her calves. “I need no defense. Killing the human was not an act of murder. It was a sacred sacrifice.”
“You dare call Darkness sacred?” the Council member named Alitheia shouted.
“Alitheia, or Truth, as we would say in a language that isn’t dead, I will impart a little of your own to you. The truth is that I am immortal. In a little over a hundred years I have attained more power than all of you in all of your centuries have managed to acquire. The truth is that in another hundred years, most of you will be dust, and I will still be young, powerful, beautiful, and a goddess. If I choose to sacrifice a human, no matter for what purpose, it is sacred and not sin!”
“Neferet, is Darkness your Consort?” Duantia’s question shot through the silence following Neferet’s shout.
“Conjure the white bull and ask Darkness yourself. But only if you dare,” Neferet sneered.
“High Council, what is your judgment?” Duantia asked. She held Neferet’s gaze as each of the High Council members stood and, one at a time, pronounced the same word, over and over, “Shunned!”
Duantia stood last. “Shunned!” she said firmly. “From this day forth, you will no longer be recognized as a High Priestess of Nyx. You will no longer be recognized as a vampyre at all. Henceforth you are dead to us.” As one, the High Council members turned their backs to Neferet, and then the screen bleeped the CALL ENDED sound and the picture went blank.
Neferet stared at the black screen. She was breathing heavily, trying to control the tumult within her. The High Council had shunned her!
“Horrid old crones!” she ranted. Too soon! Neferet had, of course, intended to break with the High Council, but not before she h
ad divided them and set them at each other’s throats so that they would be too busy with the destruction happening within to meddle in the world she was fashioning outside their cozy little island. “I almost accomplished it before—when Kalona was posing as Erebus at my side. But Zoey ruined that by forcing me to reveal him as a fraud.” Unable to quiet her frustration, Neferet stalked from the room, her stiletto heels crunching on the broken glass. She went out on the balcony, pressing her hands against the cold stone balustrade. “Zoey caused Thanatos to be sent to Tulsa to spy on me. And it was Zoey’s mother who was too weak, too imperfect a sacrifice. Had Aurox not been a cracked vessel, the reveal ritual would have been stopped by Rephaim’s death. And now I am shunned by the High Council and viewed as a domesticated ally by Tulsa humans.” Neferet raised her arms to the sky and shrieked her anger. “Zoey Redbird will pay for what she has caused!”
Neferet reached down and ripped the silk robe from her, baring her body to the night. Naked, she threw out her arms and tilted back her head so that her long hair veiled her like a dark curtain. “Come to me, Darkness!” She braced herself, ready for the painful pleasure of her white bull’s icy touch.
Nothing.
The only movement in the night was the restless, dark tendrils that had become her constant companions.
“My lord! Come to me! I am in need of you!” Neferet called.
“Your call is not a surprise, my heartless one.”
Neferet heard his voice in her head, as always, but she did not feel his awe-inspiring presence. She dropped her arms, turning, searching for him. “My lord, I cannot see you.”
“You need something.”
Still not understanding why he had not appeared to her, Neferet did not allow her confusion to show. Instead she responded seductively. “What I need is you, my lord.”
Instantly, the thickest of the snake-like minions of Darkness detached itself from the others that slithered over her ankles. It whipped around her waist, slicing through her smooth skin and drawing a perfect circle of scarlet. The other tendrils crawled up her legs, moving to feed from the warm wash of her blood.
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