“Darkness? You mean like the opposite of light?”
“In a way that is what it is. It’s hard to define because that type of pure evil is ever-changing, ever-evolving. The Darkness of which I speak is sentient. Find someone who can perceive beings from the spirit realm, and that person should be able to see the chains the Tsi Sgili formed to bind Father, if they are there at all.”
“Can you sense the spirit world?”
“I can,” he said, meeting her gaze without faltering. “Would you have me give myself up to your Vampyre High Council?”
Stevie Rae chewed her bottom lip. Would she? It would be giving Rephaim’s life for Zoey’s, and maybe even her own because she’d have to go with him, and there was no way the mega-powerful vamps on the High Council wouldn’t be able to tell they were Imprinted. She would die for Zoey—of course she would. But it’d be nice if she didn’t have to. Plus, it’s not like Zoey would want her to die. Well, it also wasn’t like Zoey would want her to have saved and then Imprinted with a Raven Mocker. Heck, no one would want that. Goddess knows she didn’t even want it. Well, not most of the time anyway.
“Stevie Rae?”
She jolted out of her inner argument to see Rephaim studying her. “Would you have me give myself to your Vampyre High Council?” he repeated solemnly.
“Only as our last option, and if you go, that means I go, too. And, heck, the High Council probably wouldn’t even believe anything you tell them. But you said all we need is someone who is good with the spirit realm, like good enough that they can sense the Darkness and spirit stuff, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, there’s a whole gaggle of powerful vamps on the High Council. One of them has to be able to do that.”
He cocked his head to the side. “It would be unusual for a vampyre to have the ability to sense the dark forces the Tsi Sgili is wielding. That is one reason Neferet has been able to keep up her charade for so long. Truly being able to identify hidden Darkness is a singular skill. Sensing such evil is difficult unless you are familiar with it.”
“Yeah, well, the High Council vamps are supposed to be all that. One of them has to be able to do it.” She spoke with much more confidence than she felt. Everyone knew the High Council vamps were chosen because of their honor and integrity and basically their all-around goodness, which didn’t so much go with being familiar with Darkness. She cleared her throat. “Okay, well, I gotta go back to the House of Night and make a call to Venice,” she said firmly. Then her gaze went to his arm and the wing held limp in stained bandages behind it. “You’re hurting pretty bad, huh?”
He gave a short nod.
“Okay, well, are ya done eatin’?”
He nodded again.
She swallowed hard, remembering the shared pain of bandaging that broken wing before. “I need to go find the medical supplies. Sadly, they’ll probably be in that security office I sent the dorky guard to, which means I’m gonna have to zap his little pea brain again.”
“You could sense his brain was small?”
“Did ya see how high-waisted his pants were? No one under the age of eighty with a big brain wears grandpa pants pulled all the way to their underarms. Pea brain, I’m just sayin’.”
Then, surprising both of them, Rephaim laughed.
I like the sound of his laughter. And before her own brain could clue her mouth in to being quiet, she smiled, and said, “You should laugh more. It’s nice.”
Rephaim didn’t say anything, but Stevie Rae couldn’t decipher the odd look he gave her. Feeling kinda uncomfortable, she hopped down from her kitchen stool, and said, “Well, I’m gonna go get the first-aid stuff, fix up your wing as best I can, get food and things together for you, and then go back and start making some super long-distance calls. Hang here. I’ll be right back.”
“I’d prefer to come with you,” he said, standing carefully while he held his arm against his side.
“It’d probably be easier on you if you just stayed here,” she said.
“Yes, but I’d prefer to be with you,” he said quietly.
Stevie Rae felt a weird little jolt deep inside her at his words, but she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, and said, “ ’Kay, suit yourself. But don’t whine if it hurts you to walk around.”
“I do not whine!” The look he gave her was so filled with guy pride that it was her turn to laugh as they left the kitchen, side by side.
Stevie Rae
Driving home, Stevie Rae should have been thinking about Zoey and devising her next plan of attack. But that was easy. She’d call Aphrodite. No matter what tragedies were going on in the world, Aphrodite would have her pointy little nose in the middle of everything, especially since it had to do with Zoey.
So Stevie Rae’s next step in her Save Z Plan was already figured out, leaving her mind wide open to think about Rephaim.
Resetting that dang wing had been awful. She still felt the phantom ache of it all through her right shoulder and her back. Even after she’d found the jar of numbing lidocaine and spread that all down his wing and his messed-up arm, she could still feel the deep, sick pain of its brokenness. Rephaim hadn’t said one word during the entire ordeal. He’d turned his head away from her, and right before she touched his wing, he’d said, “Would you do that talking thing you do while you bandage it?”
“Just exactly what talkin’ thing do you mean?” she’d asked.
He’d glanced over his shoulder, and she could have sworn there was a smile in his eyes. “You talk. A lot. So go ahead and do it. It’ll give me something more annoying to think about than the pain.”
She’d harrumphed at him, but he’d made her smile. And she did talk to him the entire time she’d cleaned, bandaged, and reset his badly broken wing. Actually, she’d babbled in big bursts of verbal diarrhea, saying nothing and everything as she rode the tide of pain with him. When she was finally done, he’d followed her, slowly, silently, back to the abandoned mansion, and she’d tried to make the closet more comfortable by stuffing in blankets she’d grabbed from the museum’s staff lounge.
“You need to go. Don’t worry about this.” He’d taken the last blanket from her and then practically collapsed into the closet.
“Look, I put the sack of food right here. It’s stuff that won’t go bad. And remember to drink lots of the water and juice. Hydrating’s good,” she’d said, feeling suddenly worried about leaving him looking so weak and tired.
“I will. Go.”
“Fine. Yeah. I’m going. I’ll try to get back here tomorrow, though.”
He’d nodded wearily.
“All right. ’Kay. I’m outta here.”
She’d turned to go when he said, “You should talk to your mother.”
She’d stopped like she’d run into a John Deere. “Why in the world would you say somethin’ ’bout my mama?”
He’d blinked at her a couple times like she’d confused him, paused, and finally answered with: “You talked about her while you bandaged my wing. You don’t remember?”
“No. Yes. I guess I wasn’t really paying attention to the stuff I was sayin’.” She’d automatically rubbed her own right arm. “I mostly just moved my mouth while I hurried to get the job done.”
“I listened to you instead of the pain.”
“Oh.” Stevie Rae hadn’t known what to say.
“You said she believes you are dead. I just . . .” He trailed off, seeming as confused as if he were trying to decipher an unfamiliar language. “I just thought you should tell her you live. She would want to know, wouldn’t she?”
“Yes.”
They’d stared at each other until she’d finally made her mouth say, “Bye, and don’t forget to eat.”
Then she’d practically run out of the museum.
“Why in the heck did it freak me out so bad that he mentioned my mama?” Stevie Rae asked herself aloud.
She knew the answer, and—no—she didn’t want to say it aloud. He cared about what she’d
said to him; he cared that she missed her mama. As she parked at the House of Night and got out of Zoey’s car, she admitted to herself that it wasn’t really his caring that had freaked her out. It was how his concern made her feel. She’d been glad he cared, and Stevie Rae knew it was dangerous to be glad that a monster cared about her.
“There you are! It’s about time you got back.” Dallas practically popped out of the bushes at her.
“Dallas! I swear to the Goddess herself that I’m gonna knock the living crap right outta you if you don’t stop scaring me.”
“Hit me later. Right now you need to get up to the Council Chamber ’cause Lenobia is not happy that you took off.”
Stevie Rae sighed and followed Dallas upstairs to the room across from the library that the school used as their Council Chamber. She hurried in, and then hesitated at the doorway. The tension in the air was so thick it was almost visible. The table was big and round, so it should have brought people together. Not that day. That day the table seemed more like a middle-school cafeteria with its separate and very hateful cliques.
On one curved side sat Lenobia, Dragon, Erik, and Kramisha. On the other side were Professors Penthasilea, Garmy, and Vento. They were in the middle of what looked like a serious glare war when Dallas cleared his throat, and Lenobia looked up at them.
“Stevie Rae! Finally. I realize these are unusual times, and that we are all under incredible stress, but I would appreciate it if you would restrain your next urge to take off to a park or wherever you went if a school Council meeting has been called. You are acting in the position of a High Priestess; you should remember to behave as such.”
Lenobia’s voice was so harsh that Stevie Rae automatically bristled. She opened her mouth to snap back at her and tell the Horse Mistress that she wasn’t the boss of her, and then leave the dang room and make her call to Venice. But she wasn’t just some fledgling kid anymore, and stomping away from a group of vamps who cared about Zoey—well, at least a few of them did—wasn’t going to help their situation.
Begin as you would end, she could almost hear her mama’s voice in her mind.
So instead of throwing a fit and taking off, Stevie Rae stepped into the room and sat in one of the chairs that was smack between the two groups. When she spoke, she didn’t let herself sound pissed. Actually, she tried her best to mimic the way her mama sounded when she used to get real disappointed with her.
“Lenobia, my affinity is for earth. That means sometimes I’m gonna need to get away from everyone and just be by myself with the earth. It’s how I think, and right now we all need to think. So, I will be takin’ off sometimes, with or without anyone’s permission, and whether or not y’all have called a meeting. And I’m not acting in the position of a High Priestess. I am the first and only red vampyre High Priestess in the entire world. That’s a new thing, so I’m thinkin’ there’s gonna be some new job descriptions that go along with it and, ya know, I may just have to make it up as I figure this Red High Priestess stuff out.” She turned to the other side of the room, and added a quick, “Hi, Professor P, and Garmy and Vento. I haven’t seen y’all in a long time.”
The three professors mumbled hellos, and she ignored the fact that they were staring at her red tattoos like she was a science project gone wrong at the 4-H fair.
“So, Dallas said Neferet dumped Kalona’s body on the High Council, and it looks like his soul is shattered, too,” Stevie Rae said.
“Yes, though some don’t want to believe it,” Prof P said, sending a dark look to Lenobia.
“Kalona is not Erebus!” Lenobia practically exploded. “Just as we all know Neferet is not the earthly incarnation of Nyx! This whole subject is ridiculous.”
“The Council reports that the Prophetess Aphrodite announced the winged immortal’s spirit had shattered, just as has Zoey’s,” said Proffy Garmy.
“Hang on.” Stevie Rae held up her hand to stop the tirade that was obviously getting ready to come at Kramisha. “Did you say Aphrodite and Prophetess together?”
“That is what the High Council has named her,” Erik said dryly. “Even though most of us wouldn’t call her that.”
Stevie Rae lifted her brows at him. “Really? I would. Zoey would. And you have. Maybe not out loud, but you’ve followed her visions, more than once. I’ve been Imprinted with her, not that I liked it or anything, but I can tell you that she’s definitely touched by Nyx and knows stuff. Lots of stuff actually.” She looked at Proffy Garmy. “Aphrodite can sense things about Kalona’s spirit?”
“So the High Council believes.”
Stevie Rae breathed a long sigh of relief. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in days.” She glanced at the clock, and started counting ahead seven hours for Venice time. It was about 10:30 P.M. in Tulsa, which meant it was probably still before dawn over there. “I need a phone. I gotta call Aphrodite. Dang it! I left my cell in my room.” She started to get up.
“Stevie Rae, what are you doing?” Dragon asked, as they all stared at her.
She hesitated long enough to look back at the room and the tense, glaring vamps. “How about I tell you what I’m not doin’? I’m not gonna sit around and argue about who Kalona is or who Neferet is when Zoey needs help. I’m not gonna give up on Z, and I’m not gonna let y’all drag me into some weird teacher bicker war.” She met Kramisha’s startled gaze. “Do you believe I’m your High Priestess?”
“Yep,” she said without hesitation.
“Good. Then come with me. You’re wastin’ your time here. Dallas?”
“Like always, I’m with you, girl,” he said.
Stevie Rae looked from vampyre to vampyre. “Y’all need to get your shit together. Here’s a newsflash from the only High Priestess you have left at this dang school: Zoey isn’t dead. And believe me, I know dead. I’ve been there, done that, and got the frickin’ T-shirt.” Stevie Rae turned her back on the room and, with her fledglings, got the heck outta there.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Aphrodite
Aphrodite didn’t let Darius carry her from the Council Chamber like he wanted to. She couldn’t leave Zoey alone in the middle of the shit pot Neferet was stirring with no one but a totally messed-up Warrior and a semi-hysterical nerd herd standing between her and some serious crazy.
“Yes, I believe it is important to keep Erebus’s body under close watch while his spirit is absent. Perhaps this is only a temporary state he has fallen into as a response to Zoey’s attack on him,” Neferet was saying to the High Council.
“Zoey’s attack on him? Did you really just say that?” Stark, puffy-eyed and hollow-cheeked, looked like he was on the verge of exploding.
“Go to Stark and try to help him get a handle on his temper,” Aphrodite whispered to her Warrior. When he hesitated, she added, “I’m fine. I’m just going to sit here and listen and learn—kinda like I’m at one of my mom’s cocktail parties gone bad.”
Darius nodded. He moved quickly to Stark’s side and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Aphrodite thought it was a good sign that Stark didn’t shrug him off, but then again, the arrow kid looked like total crap. She wondered about what happened to a Warrior if his Priestess died, and then shivered with a terrible premonition of what could come.
“Zoey did attack Erebus. His spiritless body is undeniable proof of that,” Neferet said, smugness coloring her voice.
“Zoey was attempting to stop the immortal from killing her consort,” Darius said before Stark could shout his retort.
“Ah, and that is the issue, isn’t it?” Neferet smiled silkily at Darius, making Aphrodite want to claw out her eyes. “Why did my consort feel the need to cause harm to Zoey’s Heath? The only real knowledge we have about it is from Erebus himself before his spirit was wrenched from his body. His last words were ‘I was protecting my Goddess.’ So what transpired between Zoey and Heath and Erebus is much more complicated than it might appear to a young, distraught witness.”
“This wasn’t some fight for Nyx
! Kalona killed Heath! Probably because he was jealous of how much Zoey loved him,” Stark said, looking like he wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around Neferet’s white throat and squeeze.
“And how did you feel about Zoey’s love for Heath? A Warrior bond is an intimate one, is it not? You were there with them when the soul shattering happened. Where is your culpability, Warrior?” Neferet said.
Darius held Stark back from launching himself at Neferet, and Duantia spoke quickly into the rising tension. “Neferet, I think we can all agree that there are many unanswered questions about the tragedy that occurred on our island today. Stark, we also understand the passion and rage you feel at the loss of your Priestess. It is a hard blow for a Warrior to—”
Duantia’s wisdom was cut off by the sound of Aretha Franklin belting out the chorus from “Respect,” which was coming from the little Coach purse Aphrodite had slung over her shoulder.
“Oopsie, um, sorry ’bout that.” Aphrodite frantically unzipped her purse and dug for her iPhone. “Thought I had the ringer turned off. I don’t know who would be . . .” Her voice trailed off when she saw the caller ID was Stevie Rae. She almost pressed the IGNORE button, but a feeling hit her—strong and clear. She needed to talk to Stevie Rae. “Uh, sorry again, but I really have to take this.” Aphrodite hurried up the stairs and out of the Chamber, feeling way too exposed as everyone glared after her like she’d just slapped a baby or drowned a damn puppy. “Stevie Rae,” she whispered hastily, “I know you probably just found out about Z, and you’re freaked, but this really isn’t a good time.”
“Can you sense spirits and stuff from the Otherworld?” Stevie Rae asked without so much as a “Hey there, how ya doin’.”
Something about the tone of her voice brought Aphrodite up short and kept her from replying with her usual sarcasm. “Yeah, I’m starting to be able to. Apparently, I’ve been tuned in to the Otherworld since I started having visions—I just didn’t realize it until today.”
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