by P. C. Cast
“How ’bout we be really bad and order from Andolini’s?”
I grinned. “Stevie Rae will want to kiss you for that.”
“Well, she’ll be out of luck, because I prefer gorgeous brunettes.”
“Right answer!” I blew a kiss at him before heading into the deserted media center, which was an awesome mixture of cutting-edge modern technology and ancient, Dewey Decimal–filed books that are sooooo out of print that some of them just have the names of the vampyre authors who wrote and created the single and only copy of the book.
It was to those books—the ones that were off-limits to fledglings—that I headed.
Damien was there already and had several of the old tomes open around him. He didn’t notice me, which had way more to do with his ability to concentrate than my stealthiness, but it did give me an opportunity to study him.
His adult Mark still moved me with its beauty. It spread from the sapphire crescent moon in the center of his forehead to frame his eyes with wings. And they weren’t just any wings. They looked distinctively Egyptian. When the light caught the tattoo just right the center crescent seemed to be Isis turning her head in profile as she unfurled her mighty wings. It was a perfect Mark for the personification of air, and it was, quite simply, exquisite.
Damien was the first male to be accepted on a High Council. He was also the smartest person I knew. But at that moment I noticed how tired he looked. His tattoo almost, but didn’t quite, hide the bruised circles under his eyes. And he looked thin.
I cleared my throat and his gaze shot up to meet mine.
“Hey, you got here fast,” I said.
He shrugged. “I figured there was a lot of work to do, and my research skills have gotten pretty rusty this past year. Who knew administration could be so …” he hesitated, looking at me for help.
“Boring? Tedious? Time-consuming?” I offered.
“All of the above,” he said with a slight smile.
I joined him at the table after grabbing a notebook and a handful of number-two pencils.
“Is Adam enjoying his visit home?”
Damien didn’t meet my eyes. “Adam’s not here.”
“Huh? He stayed in New York? I figured he’d for sure come with you. Neither of you have been back to T-Town for almost a year.”
“Actually, he has been. A month or so ago, I think. I just didn’t come with him.” Damien drew a deep breath, then did meet my gaze. “We broke up three months ago.”
“What? Oh, Damien, I’m sorry.”
He moved a shoulder restlessly. “It’s okay. Really. We were just at different places in our lives.”
“OMG, he’s a commitment-phobe? He has no idea how lucky he was to be with you! Do you want me to call him? I have words for him. Seriously.”
“Um. No. Thank you. Really. But, it’s fine.”
“But you didn’t say anything! I would have come out to New York and fed you ice cream and watched old movies with you.”
He rested a hand over mine. “I know you would have, but we didn’t break up because Adam was a commitment-phobe. Adam was completely committed. It was me.”
“You broke up with Adam?”
“Well, according to Adam, I iced him out.” Damien lifted his shoulder again. “And I can’t disagree with him. He’s a great guy, but he’s not my great guy.” Then he seemed to deflate. “My great guy is dead.”
“Oh, honey!” I held his hand in both of mine. “I understand. I really do. When Heath was killed, it shattered me—literally. But I made it through.”
“Because you had Stark.”
“I’m not going to say having Stark didn’t help. It did. It still does. But the truth is that I pulled myself together because Heath wanted me to be happy again. That’s one thing you can always count on with someone who really loves you—they want you to find happiness, even when you can’t imagine it for yourself.”
“It feels like part of me is missing.” Damien hung his head. “I thought this terrible empty feeling would go away. Maybe not completely, but enough so that I could feel normal again. But it hasn’t. I tried to fill it up with Adam, and I’m sorry I did. I hurt a good man, and the hole is still inside me. How did you get over Heath?”
“I didn’t,” I said honestly. “It’s not about getting over Heath. I have that place inside me, too. The place only Heath can fill. I’ve learned that I can be happy and miss him—and one more thing—the hardest thing of all. I had to give myself permission to be happy without Heath.” I touched Damien’s chin, lifting his face so that he had to look into my eyes. “Give yourself permission to be happy without Jack.”
“It feels like a betrayal.”
“I know. But where is Jack?”
Damien looked confused by my question, but he answered. “In the Other World with Nyx.”
“Do you think he’s happy?”
His haunted expression softened into a smile. “I’m sure he is.”
“Even though you’re not there with him?”
“Yes. Even though I’m not there with him. Okay, I get your point. It would be terrible if I thought Jack was unhappy and unable to go on without me. It just seems different because I’m the one left alive.”
“Will you try to give yourself permission to be happy? If not for yourself, for Jack?” I asked.
“I will.” He sighed. “But it’s odd timing for all of this to be happening, isn’t it? Especially with Jack and me in the middle of Aphrodite’s vision.”
“It is. I don’t understand it at all. But this isn’t the first time I don’t understand evil.”
Damien paused and tapped a finger on a thin stack of papers that I realized was a copy of Neferet’s journal. “I think we need to keep in mind that according to her own words, Neferet didn’t begin as evil. I’m not even completely sure she realized that she was turning to Darkness. It seems she was simply looking for a savior, and then power so that she would never be in a position of needing to be saved again.”
“How do we move forward keeping that in mind?” I was glad Damien was a fast reader, and that he’d voiced thoughts that’d been circling around in my mind since I read Neferet’s journal, too.
“I’m not sure yet, but I have a feeling we need to remember Neferet was courted by Darkness well before she was Marked.”
“Okay, well, I’ll keep that in mind.” I turned a couple of the old books Damien had spread around him, checking their spines. “Did you find a good protection spell yet?”
“I’ve found several already. I marked some pages here, here, and here.” Bookmarks feathered out of the books he slid over to my side of the table. “Any of them would do, but you don’t need a so-so spell. You need one that speaks to you specifically.”
“But how do I know what should speak to me if I don’t really know what I’m protecting against?”
“Well, Z, that’s why we’re here!” Stevie Rae rushed up to our table bringing her familiar positive attitude, her bright, shining smile, and Shaunee, Shaylin, and Aphrodite in her wake.
“You’re looking better,” I told my BFF as she slid into a chair beside me while Aphrodite took the chair on my other side.
“I feel better, too,” Aphrodite said.
I rolled my eyes. “I was talking to Stevie Rae, but you do look better.”
“What does the bumpkin have to feel better about?” Aphrodite squinted her eyes at Stevie Rae. “You and Bird Boy have a tiff?”
“No,” Stevie Rae said. Then she looked at Damien. “What’s a tiff?”
He answered without looking up from the text he was studying. “Tiff—a petty quarrel, especially one between friends or lovers.”
“Oh. Thanks. Like I said—no. Rephaim and I are just fine. I’ve been a little homesick, that’s all.”
“Homesick? You’re in Chicago still, right?” Aphrodite
asked.
“Yep.”
“That’s a city. Not quite New York, but still decidedly better than Tulsa, which is really just an oil slick on steroids,” Aphrodite said.
“I love Tulsa,” Stevie Rae bristled. “And it’s not some dang oil slick. It’s home.”
“Trade ya,” Aphrodite said.
“Any day!” Stevie Rae shouted.
“Uh, how about we redirect this energy into something positive—like trying to help me find the right protection spell. Later we’ll talk about making some moves.” I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. “Hey, are all of you homesick?”
Damien sighed. “I love New York. It’s true that it doesn’t sleep. That’s part of its charm and its neurosis.”
“That didn’t answer my question,” I said.
“I’m homesick,” Damien said.
“I’m loving NOLA,” Shaunee said. “But I’m not a Tulsa native like you guys. And I know this is shocking, but for a fire girl I’ve decided that I really like living close to the ocean.”
“So, your nonhomesickness doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Erik Night happens to be filming in New Orleans?” Shaylin waggled her brows at Shaunee.
“Maybe a little.”
“You two are really a thing?” Aphrodite said. “Exclusively?”
“Apparently,” Shaunee said.
“Our boy Erik isn’t sampling all the young starlets on set?” Aphrodite pushed.
Shaunee pierced Aphrodite with her dark eyes. “Your boy Erik messed around. My Erik doesn’t. I’m not even sure why he doesn’t. I’ve given him his freedom. Told him no damn way am I gonna spend my energy worrying about whether or not he can keep his pants zipped. But he insists I’m who he wants. I don’t even think about it anymore. He comes home to me after shooting everyday. And, let’s just say his enthusiasm for coming home to me is obvious. Starlets? Apparently they can’t compete with a mixture of brown sugar and fire, baby.”
“Huh. Well, that’s a surprise,” Aphrodite said. “And you’re totally right about the brown sugar thing. White boys definitely need to broaden their dating horizons. I’m not as sure about the fire part, but it’s obviously working for you.” Then she added, “I’m happy for you two.”
Shaunee blinked in surprise, but she smiled at Aphrodite. “Thank you. I’m happy for me, too. And I’m perfectly content in NOLA.”
“What about you, Shaylin? How’s San Francisco treating you?” I asked.
“The weather’s weird. It’s cold in the summer and nice in the winter. But I’m getting used to it. And I really, really like the fog. Plus, there’s a big queer community. Nicole and I feel at home.”
“Good to know,” I said. “Damien, Stevie Rae, when we get this new mess figured out, how about you two stick around Tulsa for awhile. We’ll talk about making some changes.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Damien said.
“So would Rephaim and I. He doesn’t say much about being homesick, but I think that’s mostly ’cause I’ve been so miserable and he doesn’t want to heap any more shit on the turd truck.”
“If she comes back here can we do something about those bumpkin analogies?” Aphrodite asked.
“No!” Stevie Rae and I said together.
“Where is Rephaim? Sending up a prayer call to Kalona?” I asked.
“No, he’s takin’ Stark’s archery class. His daddy only visits him during the day while he’s in crow form. Rephaim said it’s something about the fact that his human consciousness, which is what Kalona communicates with since he’s not, well, a bird, rests during the day. Basically, that’s when the human part of Rephaim sleeps. So that’s also when Rephaim and his daddy visit. I think it’s real nice.”
“Can’t he speed up the conversation by going to sleep right now?” Aphrodite asked.
Stevie Rae opened her mouth to answer Aphrodite, but I spoke up first. “I don’t think there’s any reason to send up some frantic emergency call to Kalona. I mean, he said he appeared to me in Capri because he thought I’d like it. That’s probably all there is to it. No need to make a big deal over it.”
Aphrodite shrugged. “Yeah, well, it’s not like Nyx isn’t on top of whatever-the-hell’s going on. She double-teamed it by sending Kramisha a poem and me a vision.”
“And now it’s time we did our part,” said a voice from over by the media center door. I spun around, happiness filling me, as my friends and I all shouted her name together.
“Grandma Redbird!”
With steps that were light and filled with energy that belied her age, my grandma hurried to me, pulling me into her arms.
“Grandma! I thought you were in Maui!”
“Oh, u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya, did you really think I would miss your birthday? And not just any birthday, but a rite of passage?” She cupped my face between her soft, warm hands and kissed me on the forehead. “Maui can wait. You only turn eighteen once.”
“I’m so glad you’re here!” I said.
“So am I! And when can I get my hug?” Stevie Rae said, practically dancing on her toes.
“Come here, sweet girl, and give Grandma a hug.” She opened her arms.
“Me too!” Damien said.
“And me!” Shaunee pushed back her chair and hurried to Grandma.
“I want in on this,” Shaylin said.
“Oh, for shit’s sake. Me too,” Aphrodite said.
Grandma’s laughter was joyous and pure. “All of you, then. Group hug!”
For that moment we were just a circle of friends surrounded by laughter and joined by love.
Then Grandma kissed each of my friends and shooed them back to their places around the table as she retrieved the picnic basket she’d left by the door.
“I brought serious fortification—lavender chocolate chip cookies. Let’s get to work,” she said.
Like the smart group we are, we did what Grandma said.
9
Zoey
“So, none of the most powerful protection spells will work because—like the spell Thanatos used to trap Neferet in the Mayo—they’re always tied to the High Priestess who casts them,” I reasoned aloud.
Damien nodded. “Yes, and that’s bad because we need something that’s permanent.”
“Is there no way for Zoey to relegate a part of her subconscious mind to holding the spell?” Grandma asked.
“I could try, but eventually the spell will end.”
Grandma looked confused, so I continued.
“When I die. I mean, that’s not going to happen for possibly several hundred years, but still. Not good for whoever is here after me.”
“And there’s more to it than that. Linking Zoey to the spell will drain her, no matter if she’s actively aware of it or not,” Damien said. “And if Neferet is indeed stirring and decides to start pushing and testing the spell, Zoey might very well end up like Thanatos. Dead.”
“No. We will not allow that,” said my grandma.
“What if we take turns?” Stevie Rae asked. “We’re all High Priestesses. Z can start by casting the spell. She can hold it for, I dunno, however long she feels comfortable holding it—then we circle again, and I take a turn.”
“And when you get tired it’s my turn,” Shaunee said. “And so on and so on. Would that work?”
“I don’t think so.” Everyone turned to Aphrodite. “I know I’m not the bookworm Damien is.”
“I prefer the term scholar,” Damien said.
“Of course you do. Anyway. I don’t know all that Damien does, but I am a Prophetess of Nyx, and taking turns holding a protection spell doesn’t feel right. Too much could happen to mess it up.”
Stevie Rae sighed. “Is it like when my mama says there’re too many cooks in the kitchen?”
“This time I understand your bumpkin analogy, and yes.
I think that’s it,” Aphrodite said.
“So, the core problem seems to be a stability issue,” Grandma said. “If the spell passes from priestess to priestess, there is no stability. And in a protection spell stability is paramount.”
“Well, then, Z needs to choose one of these other spells.” Shaunee pushed a stack of spell books toward me.
I looked at the books and sighed. “I’ve already gone through them. Nothing fits. Nothing at all. They’re either too dark, or too light and happy. Or they’re for, like, protecting your garden against pests. Or being protected against migraines—”
“Hang on. I need that one,” Aphrodite interrupted, snatching a book from me.
“Or ill wishes. Or clumsiness. I didn’t even know that was a thing,” I said. “Or warding off annoyances, like flat tires or bird poo landing on your head.”
“Seriously? There’s a spell for that?” Stevie Rae asked.
“That’d be a good one for you to have,” Aphrodite said, then she dissolved into giggles, which the rest of us ignored.
“Yeah, there are spells for a bunch of minor things. There are spells for major things, too. Spells that don’t keep the High Priestess who casts them connected to the protection, but … I don’t know. I just …” My words trailed off and I just sat there staring at the giant pile of books and a bunch of cookie crumbs, trying to figure out what it was that wasn’t right. As if that made sense.
“U-we-tsi-a-ge-ya, I think the answer is within you. You simply have to let it out.”
“Okay. How?”
“Show me one of the protection spells that almost feels right.”
I shuffled through the books until I found one of the spells I’d marked earlier. It was an old protection spell against ill wishes.
“Here’s one.” I handed it to her.
“Protection against an Ill Wish,” she read. “That does sound promising, and I see you even marked the page. But you rejected it. Why?”
“It just didn’t feel right.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Well, it wasn’t big enough,” I said.