Awakened: A House of Night Novel

by P. C. Cast

  Neferet watched, mesmerized, as the Vessel took form, its body coalescing from the pillar of brilliance that reminded her so much of the white bull’s pearl-colored coat. Finally it stood there—he stood before her. Neferet shook her head in wonder.

  He was beautiful, an utterly gorgeous young male. Tall, and strong, and perfectly formed. The average person would see no hint of Darkness about him. The skin that covered his mighty muscles was smooth and blemish-free. His hair was long and thick and the blond of summer wheat. His features were perfect—he was flawless in his façade.

  “Kneel to me, and I will give you your name.”

  The Vessel obeyed instantly, dropping to one knee before her.

  Neferet smiled and put her blood-spattered hand on the top of his silky blond head. “I shall call you Aurox, after the ancient bulls of old.”

  “Yes, mistress. I am Aurox,” the Vessel said.

  Neferet began to laugh and laugh and laugh, not caring that hysteria and madness tinged her voice, not caring that she left Aurox kneeling on the stone rooftop awaiting her next command, and not caring that as she walked away the Vessel watched her with eyes that glistened and glowed with an ancient, special light like moonstones illuminated from within …

  Zoey

  “Yeah, I know Nyx forgave him and turned him into a kid. Kinda, ’cause I don’t know about you, but I don’t know any other kid who turns into a bird during the day.” Stark sounded super tired, but not super tired enough to stop worrying.

  “That’s his consequence for all the bad stuff he’s done,” I told Stark, curling up against him and trying to ignore the Jessica Alba poster on the wall. Stark and I had taken over Dallas’s room in the tunnels under the depot. I’d done some elemental zapping, and everyone had done a lot of good old-fashioned cleaning. We still had quite a way to go, but at least the place was habitable and a Neferet-Free Zone.

  “Right, but it’s still weird that up until just a little while ago he was Kalona’s favorite son, and a Raven Mocker,” Stark continued.

  “Hey, I’m not disagreeing with you. It’s weird for me, too, but I trust Stevie Rae and she loves him.” I squinched up my face, making Stark smile. “Even before he got rid of that beak and those feathers. Jeesh, eew. I gotta get the whole story from her.” I paused, thinking. “I wonder what’s happening right now between them.”

  “Not much. The sun just came up. He’s a bird. Hey, did Stevie Rae say she was going to put him in a cage, or what?”

  I smacked him. “She didn’t say anything like that and you know it!”

  “Makes sense to me.” Stark yawned hugely. “But whatever she does, you’ll have to wait till sunset to hear about it.”

  “Past your bedtime, little boy?” I asked, grinning up at him.

  “Little boy? Are you sassing me, girl?”

  “Sassing?” I giggled. “Yeah, of course. Heehees!”

  “Come here, wumman!”

  Stark started to tickle me like crazy and I tried to retaliate by pulling the hairs on his arms. He yelped (like a little girl) and then the whole thing turned into a wrestling match where I, somehow, ended up being pinned.

  “Do you give?” Stark asked me. With one hand he had both of my wrists and was holding my arms over my head, tickling my ear with his panting breath.

  “No way; you’re not the boss of me.” I struggled (futilely). Okay, so I admit I didn’t struggle very hard. I mean, he was pressed against me and totally not hurting me—like Stark would ever hurt me—and he was super hot, and I loved him. “Actually, I’m going easy on you. All I have to do is call my mega cool element powers and your cute butt will be kicked.”

  “Cute, huh? You think my butt is cute?”

  “Maybe,” I told him, trying not to smile. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t call the elements to kick it.”

  “Well then I better keep your mouth busy so you can’t do that,” he said.

  When he started kissing me I thought about what a strange and wonderful thing it was that something so simple, just a kiss, could make me feel so much. His lips against mine were soft, and an amazing contrast to his hard body. As he kept kissing me I quit thinking about how wonderful it was because he made me stop thinking. All I did was feel: his body, my body, our pleasure.

  So I hadn’t really been thinking about the fact that he was still holding my arms by my wrists, trapped over my head. I didn’t think about it when his free hand slid up the extra-large Superman T-shirt I was using as pj’s. I still didn’t think about it when his hand moved from under my shirt to the top of my panties. I only started to think about it when his kiss changed. It went from soft and deep to hard. Too hard. It was like he’d suddenly become starving, and I was the meal that ended his famine.

  I tried to pull my wrists from his hand, but his grip was solid.

  I turned my head and his lips left my mouth to make a hot trail down my neck. I was trying to get my head together—trying to figure out what was bothering me so much—when he bit me. Hard.

  The bite wasn’t like before, like our first time on Skye. Then it had been something we’d shared. Something we both had wanted. This time he was rough and possessive and it was definitely not something we were sharing.

  “Ouch!” I jerked my wrists and managed to break one hand free of his hold. With it I shoved at his shoulder. “Stark, that hurt.”

  He moaned and ground his body against me, like I hadn’t spoken or pushed him. I felt his teeth against my skin again and this time I yelled and, with my emotions as well as my body I shoved harder at him—channeling lots of Seriously! You’re hurting me!

  He lifted himself up on his elbows and his gaze met mine. For a flash that lasted less than a second, I saw something within his eyes that made my soul shiver. I flinched back, Stark blinked, and looked at me with a total question mark that turned into shock. Instantly he let go of my wrist.

  “Shit! I’m so sorry, Zoey. Jesus, I’m sorry! Are you hurt?”

  He was patting my body down a little frantically and I batted away his hands, frowning at him. “What do you mean, am I hurt? What the heck’s wrong with you? That was way too rough.”

  Stark wiped a hand down his face. “I didn’t realize—I don’t know why—” He broke off, took a deep breath, and started again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was hurting you.”

  “You bit me.”

  He rubbed his face again. “Yeah, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “It hurt.” I rubbed my neck.

  “Let me see.”

  I moved my hand away and he studied my neck. “It’s a little red, that’s all.” He bent and kissed the sore place uber-gently, and then said, “Hey, I really didn’t think I bit you that hard. Seriously, Z.”

  “Seriously, Stark, you did. And you wouldn’t let go of my wrists when I told you to.”

  Stark blew out a long breath. “Okay, well, I’ll be sure that doesn’t happen again. It’s just that I want you so much, and you turn me on so much—”

  He paused and I finished his sentence, “—that you can’t control yourself? What the hell?”

  “No! No, that’s not it. Zoey, you can’t think that’s it. I’m your Warrior, your Guardian—it’s my job to protect you from anyone who might hurt you.”

  “Does that include yourself?” I asked.

  His gaze met mine and held. In his familiar eyes I saw confusion and sadness and love—a lot of love. “That includes myself. Do you really think I’d actually hurt you?”

  I sighed. What the hell was I making such a big deal about? So, he’d gotten carried away, grabbed my wrists, bit me, and not jumped the second I told him how high. He was a guy. What was that old saying? If it has tires or testicles, it’s gonna give you problems.

  “Zoey, really, I would never let you be hurt. I gave you my oath, plus I love you and—”

  “Okay, sssh.” I pressed my finger against his lips, shutting him up. “No, I don’t think you’d let anything hurt me. You’re tired. The
sun’s up. We’ve had a crazy day. Let’s just sleep and agree to no more biting.”

  “That sounds good to me.” Stark held open his arms. “Would you come here?”

  I nodded and spider-monkied him. His touch was normal: strong and secure, but very, very gentle.

  “I’ve been having sleep issues,” he said hesitantly, after he kissed the top of my head.

  “I know you have—I’ve been sleeping with you. It’s been kinda obvious.” I kissed his shoulder.

  “Not going to ask me if I want to go into therapy with Dragon Lankford this time?”

  “He stayed. He didn’t leave the House of Night with us,” I said.

  “None of the professors did. Lenobia stayed, and you know she’s one hundred percent behind us.”

  “Yeah, but she can’t leave those horses, and there’s no way we can get them down here,” I said. “Anyway, Dragon’s different. He feels different to me. He wouldn’t forgive Rephaim, even after Nyx basically told him he should.”

  I could feel Stark nodding. “That was bad. But, ya know, I wouldn’t be into forgiving someone who killed you, either.”

  “It would be like me forgiving Kalona for Heath,” I said quietly.

  Stark’s arms held me closer. “Could you do that?”

  “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know—” I hesitated, my words stumbling.

  He nudged me. “Go ahead. You can tell me.”

  I threaded my fingers through his and said, “In the Otherworld, when you were, uh, dead”—I could hardly speak the word and hurried on—“Nyx was there.”

  “Yeah, you told me that. She made Kalona pay his life debt for killing Heath, and bring me alive.”

  “Well, what I didn’t tell you was that Kalona got super emotional in front of Nyx. He asked her if she would ever forgive him.”

  “What did the Goddess say?”

  “She said to ask again if he was ever worthy of her forgiveness. Actually, Nyx sounded a lot like she did tonight when she was talking to Neferet.”

  Stark snorted. “Not a good sign for Neferet or Kalona.”

  “Yeah, no kidding. Anyway, my point is, well, not that I’m pretending to be a goddess or anything like that, but my answer about forgiving Kalona is a lot like Nyx’s to him and Neferet. I think real forgiveness is a gift someone has to earn, and I don’t even have to worry about Kalona asking for my forgiveness unless he’s worthy of even considering it, and I just don’t see that happening.”

  “He set Rephaim free tonight, though.” I could hear the conflicting emotions in his voice. I understood them. I had them, too.

  “I’ve been thinking about that, and all I can figure is that somehow setting Rephaim free is going to benefit Kalona,” I said.

  “Which means we need to keep an eye on Rephaim,” Stark said. “You gonna mention that to Stevie Rae?”

  “Yeah, but she loves him,” I said.

  He nodded again. “And when you love someone you don’t always see them realistically.”

  I drew back just far enough to give him The Look. “Are you saying that from experience?”

  “No, no, no,” he said quickly, giving me his tired, but cocky grin. “Not experience, just observation.” Stark pulled gently and I curled against him again. “It’s time for sleepin’ now. Lay yur head, wumman, and let me get my rest.”

  “Okay, seriously, you sound creepily like Seoras.” I looked up at Stark and shook my head. “If you start growing a white goatee beard thingie like his I’m gonna fire you.”

  Stark rubbed his chin with one hand like he was considering it. “You can’t fire me. I’ve signed on for life.”

  “I’ll stop kissing you.”

  “Nae beard for me, lassie.” He grinned.

  I smiled back at him, thinking how glad I was he’d “signed up for life,” and how much I hoped that meant he had his “job” for a very, very long time. “Hey, how about this: you fall asleep first, and I’ll stay awake for a while?” I cupped his cheek. “Tonight I’ll guard the Guardian.”

  “Thank you,” he said, being way more serious than I expected. “I love you, Zoey Redbird.”

  “I love you, too, James Stark.”

  Stark turned his head and kissed the inside of my palm and the intricate tattooing the Goddess had placed there. As he closed his eyes and his body began to relax, I stroked his thick brown hair and wondered briefly if or when Nyx would add to my incredible tattooing. She’d given me Marks, taken them away—or at least my friends said they went away while my soul was in the Otherworld—and then Nyx returned them to me again when I returned to myself. Maybe I was set now—maybe I wouldn’t get any more. I was trying to decide whether that was a good or a bad thing when my eyelids got way too heavy to keep open. I thought I’d shut them, just for a little while. Stark was definitely sleeping, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt anything …

  * * *

  Dreams are so weird. I was having a dream that I was flying like Superman—you know, with my hands out in front of me kinda guiding me, and the theme music for the cool old Superman movies, the ones with the awesome Christopher Reeve, was playing in my head when everything changed.

  The theme song was replaced by my mom’s voice.

  “I’m dead!” she said.

  Nyx’s voice responded right away, “Yes, Linda, you are.”

  My stomach clenched. It’s a dream. It’s just a really bad dream!

  Look down, my child. It is important that you bear witness. When the Goddess’s voice whispered through my mind I knew reality had seeped into the Realm of Dreams.

  I didn’t want to. I really, really didn’t want to, but I looked down.

  Below me was what I’d come to think of as the entrance to Nyx’s Realm. There was the vast Darkness into which I’d jumped to get my spirit back into my body. Then there was a carved stone archway above hard packed dirt, and on the other side of the arch stretched Nyx’s magickal grove, beginning with the ethereal hanging tree that was a magnified version of the one Stark and I had tied our dreams for each other on during that wonderful day on the Isle of Skye.

  And just inside the Otherworld arched entrance stood my mom, facing Nyx.

  “Mom!” I called, but neither the Goddess nor my mom reacted to my voice.

  Bear witness silently, my child.

  So I hovered above them and watched while soundless tears washed down my face.

  My mom was staring at the Goddess. Finally, she said in a small, scared voice, “So is God a girl, or did my sins send me to Hell?”

  Nyx smiled. “Here we are not worried with past sins. Here, in my Otherworld, we care only about your spirit and what essence it chooses to carry with it: Light or Darkness. It is a simple thing, really.”

  Mom chewed her lip for a second, and then said, “Which does mine carry, Light or Darkness?”

  Nyx’s smile didn’t waver. “You tell me, Linda. Which have you chosen?”

  My heart squeezed as I watched my mom start to cry. “Until recently, I think I’ve been more on the bad side.”

  “There is a great deal of difference between being weak and being evil,” Nyx said.

  Mom nodded. “I was weak. I didn’t want to be. It’s just that my life was like a snowball rolling down a mountain, and I couldn’t find my way out of the avalanche. But I was trying there at the end. That’s why I was at Mother’s house. I was going to make my life my own again—and get back together with my daughter Zoey. She’s—” Mom stopped. Her eyes widened in understanding. “You’re Zoey’s Goddess, Nyx!”

  “I am, indeed.”

  “Oh! So Zoey will be here someday?”

  I wrapped my arms around myself. She loved me. Mom really loved me.

  “She will, though I hope not for many, many years.”

  Hesitantly, Mom asked, “May I come in and wait for her?”

  “You may.” Nyx spread her arms wide and declared, “Welcome to the Otherworld, Linda Redbird. Leave pain and regret and loss behind, and bring with you love
. Always love.”

  And then my mom and Nyx disappeared in a brilliant flash of light. I woke up, lying on the edge of the bed, arms wrapping around myself, crying steadily.

  Stark woke instantly. “What it is?” He scooted over to me and pulled me into his arms.

  “It’s m-my mom. S-she’s dead,” I sobbed. “S-she really did love me.”

  “Of course she did, Z, of course she did.”

  I closed my eyes and let Stark comfort me while I cried out pain and regret and loss, until all I had left was love. Always love.

  THE END

  Now Available:

  Destined

  ALSO BY P. C. CAST and KRISTIN CAST

  Marked

  Betrayed

  Chosen

  Untamed

  Hunted

  Tempted

  Burned

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously.

  AWAKENED. Copyright © 2010 by P. C. Cast and Kristin Cast. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  “Defying Gravity” from the Broadway muscial Wicked. Music and Lyrics by Stephen Schwartz. Copyright © 2003 Grey Dog Music. All rights reserved. Used by permission of Grey Dog Music (ASCAP).

  www.stmartins.com

  First Edition: January 2011

  eISBN 978-1-4299-4510-3

  First St. Martin’s Griffin eBook Edition: January 2011