by P. C. Cast
“What do you mean?”
“Darkness is territorial, possessive. Once it’s had a piece of you, it doesn’t like to let go.”
“Darkness doesn’t have any choice if you choose the path of the Goddess, and you have. It can’t beat Light.”
“But I’m not sure Light can ever really beat Darkness, either. There’s a balance to things, Z.”
“Which doesn’t mean you can’t choose sides. And you’ve chosen. Trust yourself. I trust you. Completely,” I repeated.
Stark kept staring into my eyes like he was grabbing on to a lifeline. “As long as you see me as good—as long as you believe in me—I can trust myself because I trust you, Zoey. And I love you.”
“I love you, too, Guardian,” I said.
He kissed me and then, in a movement that was fast and graceful and lethal, Stark pulled back the bow and let the arrow fly. It thunked with finality into the absolute center of the target.
“Wow,” I said. “That was amazing. You’re amazing.”
He blew out a long breath, and with it the tension that had been so obvious in his body seemed to be blown away, too. Stark smiled his cute, cocky grin. “Center of the target, Z. I hit it dead-on.”
“Of course you did, silly. You can’t miss.”
“Yeah, that’s right. And it’s just a target.”
“Are you gonna teach me or not? And this time don’t go so darn fast. Slow down. Show me.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure. Okay, here.” He aimed and shot more slowly, giving me time to follow his movements.
And the second arrow split the first one down the middle.
“Oh, woops. I forgot about doing that. I used to waste a lot of arrows that way.”
“Here, my turn. I’ll bet I don’t have that problem.”
I tried to do what Stark had done, but ended up shooting my arrow short and watching it skitter off the smooth, wet rocks.
“Well, crap. It’s definitely harder than it looks,” I said.
“Here. I’ll show you. You’re not standing right.” He came up behind me, fitting his arms over mine and snuggling against my backside. “Think of yourself as an ancient warrior queen. Stand strong and proud. Shoulders back! Chin up!” I did as he said and inside the powerful circle of his arms I felt myself transform into someone powerful and majestic. His hands guided mine to pulling the bow taut. “Stay steady and strong—focus,” he whispered. Together we sighted the target, and as we let loose the arrow, I could feet the jolt that rippled through his body and mine and guided the arrow to the dead center of the target again, splintering the two before it.
I turned and smiled up at my Guardian. “What you have is magick. It’s special. You have to use it, Stark. You have to.”
“I’ve missed it,” he said, speaking so softly I had to strain to hear him. “I don’t really feel right if I don’t stay connected to my bow.”
“It’s because through it you’re connected to Nyx. She gave you your gift.”
“Maybe I can start again here. This place feels different to me. Somehow I feel like I belong here—like we belong here.”
“I feel it, too. And it seems like it’s been forever since I’ve felt this safe and this happy.” I stepped into his arms. “Sgiach just told me that she’s going to start opening the island up to Warriors again—and also to other gifted fledglings.” I smiled up at Stark. “You know, like fledglings with special affinities.”
“Oh, you mean like affinities for the elements?”
“Yep, that’s exactly what I mean.” I hugged him, and spoke into his chest. “I want to stay here. I really do.”
Stark stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head. “I know you do, Z. And I’m with you. I’ll always be with you.”
“Maybe here we can get rid of the Darkness Neferet and Kalona have tried to bring to us,” I said.
Stark held me tightly. “I hope so, Z. I really do hope so.”
“Do you think it might be enough to just have one piece of the world that’s safe from Darkness? Is it still walking the path of the Goddess even if I’m just walking it here?”
“Well, I’m no expert, but it makes sense to me that what’s important is that you’re trying your best to stay true to Nyx. I can’t see that where you’re doing it is such a big deal.”
“I understand why Sgiach doesn’t leave this place,” I said.
“So do I, Z.”
Stark held me then, and I felt the bruised, battered places inside of me begin to warm and, slowly, I started to heal.
Stark
Zoey felt damn good in his arms. When Stark thought back to how close he’d come to losing her, it could still scare him so badly that it made his stomach sick. I did it. I got to her in the Otherworld and made sure she came back to me. She’s safe now and I’m gonna always keep her that way.
“Hey, you’re thinking awful hard,” Zoey said. Curled up with him in the big bed they shared, she nuzzled his neck and kissed his cheek. “I can practically hear the wheels turning inside your head.”
“I’m the one who’s supposed to have the super psychic abilities.” He said it with a kidding tone, but at the same time Stark gave a little mental push and slipped around just on the outskirts of her psyche—not close enough to her real thoughts to piss her off with his eavesdropping, but just near enough to be sure that she really did feel safe and happy.
“Want to know something?” she asked, with a hesitant tone to her voice.
Stark propped himself up on his elbow and grinned down at her. “Are you kidding, Z? I want to know everything.”
“Stop it—I’m being serious.”
“Me, too!” She gave him a look and he kissed her on the forehead. “Okay, fine. I’m being serious. What is it?”
“I, um, really like it when you touch me.”
Stark’s brows went up and he had to struggle not to break into a giant grin. “Well, that’s good.” He watched her cheeks get pink and a little grin slipped through. “I’m guessing that’s real good.”
Zoey chewed her lip. “Do you like it?”
Stark couldn’t help laughing then. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No. Dead. Serious. I mean, how am I supposed to know? I’m not exactly experienced—not like you are.”
Her cheeks were flaming by that time and he thought she looked mega uncomfortable, which put a damper on his laughter. The last thing he wanted to do was to embarrass her or make her feel weird about what was happening between them.
“Hey.” He cupped her flushed cheek. “Being with you is beyond awesome. And, Zoey, you’re wrong. You’re more experienced than me about love.” When she started to speak he pressed his finger against her lips. “No, let me say this. Yeah, I’ve had sex before. But I’ve never been in love. Never until you. You’re my first, and you’re going to be my last.”
She smiled up at him with such love and trust that he thought his heart would beat out of his chest. It was only Zoey—it would always be only Zoey for him.
“Would you make love to me again?” she whispered.
As her answer Stark held her even closer and began a long, slow kiss. His last thought before everything went wrong was, I’ve never been this happy in my life …
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Kalona
He could feel Neferet getting near and he steeled himself, schooling his expression and cloaking the hatred he had begun to feel for her with a careful demeanor of expectation and accommodation.
Kalona would bide his time. If there was one thing the immortal understood, it was the power of patience.
“Neferet approaches,” he told Rephaim. His son was standing before one of the several large sets of glass doors that opened onto the huge balcony that was the predominate feature of the penthouse loft the Tsi Sgili had purchased. Penthouse meant all the opulence Neferet craved and the privacy and rooftop access he required.
“Has she Imprinted with you?”
Rephaim’s question brought Kalona’s thoughts
up short. “Imprinted? Neferet and I? What an odd question for you to ask me.”
Rephaim turned from the downtown Tulsa panorama to look at his father. “You can sense her approach. I assume she’s tasted of your blood and you’ve Imprinted.”
“No one tastes of an immortal’s blood.”
The elevator doors chimed just before they opened and Kalona turned in time to see Neferet stride across the gleaming marble floor. She moved gracefully, with a sweeping glide those who were less informed would believe vampyric. Kalona knew differently. He understood her movement had changed, shifted, evolved—just as she had changed, shifted, and finally evolved into a being much more than vampyre.
“My Queen,” he said, bowing respectfully to her.
Neferet’s smile was dangerously beautiful. Serpentine, she wrapped one arm around his shoulder and exerted more pressure than was necessary. Obediently, Kalona bent so that she could press her lips to his. He let his mind go blank. His body alone responded, deepening the kiss, letting her tongue slither into his mouth.
As abruptly as she had begun it, Neferet ended the embrace. Glancing over his shoulder she said, “Rephaim, I thought you were dead.”
“Wounded, not dead. I healed and awaited my father’s return,” Rephaim said.
Kalona thought that though his son’s words were proper and respectful, there was something about his tone that was off, though it had always been difficult to read Rephaim as the visage of a beast tended to mask any human emotion he had. If, indeed, he had any emotion that could be classified as human.
“I learned that you have allowed yourself to be spotted by fledglings from Tulsa’s House of Night.”
“Darkness called. I responded. That there were fledglings there was inconsequential to me,” Rephaim said.
“Not just fledglings—Stevie Rae was there, too. She saw you.”
“As I said before, those beings are inconsequential to me.”
“Still, it was a mistake for you to allow anyone to know you’re here, and I do not tolerate mistakes,” Neferet said.
Kalona saw her eyes begin to take on a reddish hue. Anger stirred within him. That he was in bondage to Neferet was bad enough—that his favorite son could be chastised and harangued by her was intolerable.
“Actually, my Queen, it could work in our favor that they are aware Rephaim remained in Tulsa. I am supposed to be banished from your side, so I cannot be seen here. If the local House of Night rabble hears rumors of a winged being, they will assume a Raven Mocker stalks the night and there will be no thought of me.”
Neferet raised an arched amber brow. “A point well taken, my winged love, especially as the two of you work to bring the rogue red fledglings back to me.”
“As you say, my Queen,” Kalona said smoothly.
“I want Zoey to return to Tulsa.” Neferet abruptly changed the subject. “Those fools at the House of Night tell me she refuses to leave Skye. She is not within my reach there—and I very much want her within my reach.”
“The death of the innocent should cause her to return,” Rephaim said.
Neferet’s green eyes narrowed. “And how do you know about this death?”
“We felt it,” Kalona said. “Darkness reveled in it.”
Neferet’s smile was feral. “How lovely that you felt it. That ridiculous boy’s death was pleasing. Though I am worried that it might have the opposite effect on Zoey. Instead of making her come rushing back to her weak, whining group of friends, it could fuel her decision to stay hidden away on that island.”
“Perhaps you should harm one closer to Zoey. The Red One is like a sister to her,” Kalona said.
“True, and that wretched Aphrodite has become close to her as well,” Neferet said, tapping her chin, considering.
An odd noise coming from his son drew Kalona’s attention to Rephaim. “Did you have something to add, my son?”
“Zoey is hiding on Skye. She believes you cannot reach her there, is that not true?” Rephaim asked.
“We cannot,” Neferet said, irritation making her voice hard and cold. “No one can breach the boundaries of Sgiach’s kingdom.”
“You mean like no one was supposed to be able to breach the boundaries of Nyx’s Realm?” Rephaim said.
Neferet skewered him with her emerald eyes. “Do you dare to be impertinent?”
“Make your point, Rephaim,” Kalona said.
“Father, you already breached a seemingly impossible boundary by entering Nyx’s Otherworld, even after the Goddess herself banished you. Use your connection to Zoey. Reach her through her dreams. Let her understand she cannot hide from you. That, the death of her friend, and Neferet’s return to her House of Night should be enough to coax the young High Priestess out of seclusion.”
“She is not a High Priestess. She is a fledgling! And the Tulsa House of Night is mine, not hers!” Neferet practically shrieked. “No. I have had enough of your father’s connection to her. It didn’t bring about her death, so I want it severed. If Zoey is to be lured from Sgiach, I will do it by using Stevie Rae or Aphrodite—or perhaps both of them. They need a lesson in showing me the proper respect.”
“As you wish, my Queen,” Kalona said, sending his son a pointed look. Rephaim met his gaze, hesitated, and then he, too, bowed his head and said softly, “As you wish…”
“Good, then that is that. Rephaim, local news reports say that there has been gang violence near Will Rogers High School. The gang is cutting throats and draining blood. I believe if we follow that gang we’ll find the rogue red fledglings. Do that. Discreetly.”
Rephaim didn’t speak, but he bowed his head in acknowledgment.
“And now I’m going to luxuriate in that lovely marble bathtub in the other room. Kalona, my love, I will join you in our bed very soon.”
“My Queen, did you not wish me to search for the red fledglings with Rephaim?”
“Not tonight. Tonight I need a more personal service from you. We have too long been apart.” She ran one red nail down Kalona’s chest and he had to force himself not to flinch away from her.
She must have seen something of his desire to avoid her touch, though, because her next words were cold and hard. “Do I displease you?”
“Of course not. How could you possibly displease me? I will be ready and willing for you, as always.”
“And you will be in my bed, awaiting my pleasure,” she said. With a cruel smile she spun around and glided into the huge bedchamber that took up half of the palatial penthouse, closing the double doors to the bathroom with a dramatic slam that Kalona thought sounded much like a gaoler closing a prison door.
He and Rephaim remained still and silent for almost one full minute. When the immortal finally spoke his voice was rough with repressed anger.
“There is no price too great to pay to break the hold she has over me.” Kalona swiped his hand down his chest as if he could wipe away her touch.
“She treats you as if you are her servant.”
“Not for all of eternity, she will not,” Kalona said grimly.
“For now she does, though. She even commands you to stay away from Zoey, and you’ve been bound to the Cherokee maiden that shares her soul for centuries!”
The disgust in his son’s voice was mirrored by Kalona’s own thoughts. “No,” he said quietly, speaking more to himself than his son. “The Tsi Sgili may believe she commands my every move, but though she thinks herself a goddess, she is not omniscient. She cannot know everything. She will not see everything.” Kalona’s massive wings moved restlessly, mirroring his agitation. “I believe you were correct, my son. It may prod Zoey to leave the ancient Isle of Skye if she understands that even there she cannot escape her connection with me.”
“It seems logical,” Rephaim said. “The girl hides there to avoid you. Show her your powers are too great for that, whether the Tsi Sgili approves or not.”
“I do not require that creature’s approval.”
“Exactly,” Rephaim said.<
br />
“My son, take to the night’s sky and track the rogue fledglings. That will pacify Neferet. What I truly wish you to do is to find and watch Stevie Rae. Observe her carefully. Note where she goes and what she does, but do not capture her yet. I believe her powers are linked to Darkness. I believe she can be of use to us, but first her continuing friendship with Zoey and the House of Night has to be corroded. She must have a weakness. If we watch her long enough we will discover it.” Kalona paused, then he chuckled, though the sound was utterly humorless. “Weaknesses can be so beguiling.”
“Beguiling, Father?”
Kalona looked at his son, wondering at his odd expression. “Beguiling, indeed. Perhaps you have been so long apart from the world that you do not remember the power of a single human weakness.”
“I … I am not human, Father. Their weaknesses are difficult for me to understand.”
“Of course … of course, just find and observe the Red One. I will consider what to do with her from there,” Kalona said dismissively. “And while I await Neferet’s next command”—he spoke the word as a sneer, like the very voicing of it was distasteful—“I will search the realm of dreams and give Zoey—as well as Neferet—a lesson in hide-and-seek.”
“Yes, Father,” Rephaim said.
Kalona watched him open the double doors and step out onto the stone roof. Rephaim strode across the balcony to the balustrade-like wall that ringed the edge, leaped up on its flat ledge, and then opened his huge ebony wings and dropped silently, gracefully, into the night, gliding black and almost invisible against the Tulsa skyline.
Kalona envied Rephaim for a moment, wishing he, too, could leap from the rooftop of the majestic building called Mayo and glide the black, predator’s sky, hunting, searching, finding.
But no. This night there was another hunting job he would complete. It would not take him to the sky, but it would also, in its own way, be satisfying.
Terror could be satisfying.
For an instant he remembered the last time he’d seen Zoey. It was the same moment his spirit had been torn from the Otherworld and returned to his body. The terror then had been his, caused by his failure to keep Zoey’s soul in the Otherworld, thereby killing her. Darkness, under the direction of Neferet’s oath, sealed by her blood and his acceptance, had been able to control him—to seize his soul.