by P. C. Cast
“Listen carefully to me. Do exactly what I tell you. Go to the front doors. Lock them. NOW. Then get all of the guests downstairs and into the tunnels. Close and bar the entry behind you. Then have Kramisha call me.”
“But, um. They’re not done eating. And there are a lot of humans here. They won’t want to go into the tunnels.”
“I don’t give a crap about what they want! There is an army of creatures on their way to you. They will kill everyone in their path. Put the phone down right now and lock that front door. Then get everyone into the tunnels and call me back on the landline down there.”
“Y—yes, High Priestess.” Shakily, Skye set the phone down and started toward the big double glass doors at the entrance of the restaurant.
She didn’t make it.
The doors exploded open. On a tide of snow and frigid air, ravenous creatures flooded into the depot. Skye saw their red Marks. She saw their glowing eyes and flashing fangs. She heard the shrieks of the restaurant patrons as they bolted from their tables, only to be tackled as the horde mobbed the dining room and began ripping, tearing, and eating the flesh from the humans.
“Skye!” She heard Xena’s shout, and she tried to retrace her steps. Tried to make it back to the kitchen and the trapdoor that opened to the tunnels below.
Instead a red-eyed demon blocked her way.
“Ooooh, pretty,” he hissed.
Skye screamed until he ripped out her throat, and then, blissfully, she knew no more.
Zoey
“Oh, Goddess, no. No, no, no, no, no!” I could hear everything. “Run!” I screamed impotently into the phone. “Get into the tunnels!”
The line went dead.
“Think, Zoey!” I punched three numbers into the landline, 9-1-1.
A busy signal beeped like a harbinger of doom.
“Seriously?” I shouted into the phone. My hands were trembling so badly that I had a hard time putting in the security code to my phone. Still no service. I got into my contacts and found Kramisha’s landline number. We’d had a landline installed in the tunnels during their renovation. No matter how hard we tried, none of the cell phone providers could come up with a plan that gave us reliable service down there.
The phone rang. “Come on, Kramisha!” And rang. And rang. Then her archaic answering machine kicked on. “Messages is lame. If you under forty, I know you feel the same. I seen your ID. But I ain’t here. Just re-call me.”
“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god!” I hung up and scrolled to Detective Marx’s desk number and somehow managed to punch it correctly into the landline. Please … please … detectives have to work weird hours. Please be there. He answered on the second ring.
“Marx, it’s Zoey. Just listen. Get a lot of cops to the Depot Restaurant. Now. Something happened in Woodward Park tonight. Red vampyres and fledglings from somewhere else got through to our world. They’re killers. And they’re at the depot.”
“How do we tell the difference between good and bad red vamps?”
“If it smells off, like something dead mixed with your grandma’s moldy old basement, it’s a bad guy. Oh, and you have to sever their spines to kill them.”
“Sounds like old-school vampyre stuff.”
“More like old-school zombie stuff, but you’re not wrong.”
“Is Neferet loose?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Did she do this?”
“We didn’t see any sign of her.”
“The mess on Twenty-First—in front of Woodward Park—that wasn’t a simple car accident?”
“Nope. And there’s more. Look by the wall around Neferet’s grotto. It’s bad. Also, keep an eye out for Frances LaFont.”
“LaFont? What does she have to do with this?”
“Well, let’s just say she was her usual charming self and interrupted some spellwork tonight, which let those red vampyre zombie things into Tulsa. She took off, but I have no clue if she made it home, or if one of those creatures got her.”
“Noted,” he said.
“And I’m sending Sons of Erebus Warriors to the depot to help in any way they can. Darius will lead them, and they are all blue vampyres.”
“Roger that.”
“How bad is the weather?”
“Apparently we’re being slammed by a major winter snowstorm. It was just supposed to be a couple of inches, but something changed in the weather pattern an hour or so ago. It’s going to be bad. Stay safe. Touch base with me later.”
“Thank y—” He hung up before I could finish.
I wiped a shaky hand across my sweaty forehead, drew a deep breath in, let it out, and made the decision I thought would keep the most people under my protection safe. Then I pressed the intercom button and spoke with a pretense of calm.
“Students and faculty, this is your High Priestess. I’ve just spoken to the Tulsa Police Department about the weather, and they advise everyone stay off the roads. Due to the unexpected treacherous conditions, I’m calling the school day immediately. Faculty, please see that your students make their way back to the dorms as soon as possible, and please help your human students call their parents—using landlines because the cell towers are out—to let them know that the police have advised we do not run buses on these roads, so their students will be our welcome guests at the House of Night until the weather clears. Thank you, and blessed be.”
I clicked the intercom button off and picked at my fingernails. Had I made the right decision keeping human students on campus? But if I hadn’t and they’d run into those red creatures … I shuddered, not even wanting to think about it.
“Zoeybird, what has happened?”
I looked up to see Grandma standing in the doorway to the administrative offices. “Come with me, Grandma. Maybe you can help us figure it out.”
Zoey
In the basement under the Field House, the Sons of Erebus Warriors kept their massive stash of weapons. Some were simply lethal. Some were lethal and jewel-encrusted. I’d first discovered the priceless room full of swords, knives, bows, and whatnot when we were battling Neferet, and needed to keep the red fledglings safe in our basement. Over the year I’d assumed the role of Leader of the New North American High Council, I’d been sure Darius—current Swordmaster of the Sons of Erebus—had supervised the cataloging and sorting of all the stored weaponry. We’d found out that the House of Night was sitting on a fortune of weapons, and we’d begun loaning some of the more ancient ones to human museums. The Philbrook was currently displaying a gorgeous collection of samurai swords that dated back more than one thousand years.
We’d also cleaned and reorganized the basement, dividing off a section of it and building out half a dozen cozy guest rooms for any visiting red fledglings or red vampyres. Regular vamps find the sun uncomfortable, but bearable. Red fledglings and vamps find it impossible to tolerate. Exposed too long and they incinerate like one of the ever-fabulous Anne Rice’s fictional vampires. Hence the reason they rest most comfortably underground.
Grandma and I hurried down the stairs that spilled into the huge basement that stretched the length of the Field House. Right now even its vastness was crowded with very large, very well-armed Sons of Erebus Warriors.
Darius and Stark came to my side immediately. Darius raised one hand and the murmurs of the Warriors silenced.
“Get to the Depot Restaurant. It’s too late. They’ve already attacked. I can’t get anyone to answer Kramisha’s landline in the tunnels. 9-1-1 was busy, so I called Detective Marx’s desk. He’s sending TPD there right away, but from what I overheard when I called the restaurant they’re going to be walking into something as awful …” I swallowed hard before I could continue. “Something as awful as when Neferet and her tendrils slaughtered the people at the Boston Avenue Church.”
“They’re going to blame us.” Stark’s lo
ok was dark and tense.
“That’s gonna be hard to do when they find out those red zombies killed our people, too,” I said.
Aphrodite moved through the crowd to stand beside Darius. “You mean those kids who waited tables at the restaurant are …” her words trailed off.
I nodded tightly. “Sounded like it.”
“What about Kramisha and the rest of the red fledglings and vamps who live in the tunnels?” Aphrodite asked.
“I don’t know. I tried to warn them. I just don’t know.”
“Then we need to move and move fast,” Darius said. “Sons of Erebus, those of you I’ve already chosen will come with me to the depot. The rest of you remain here under Stark’s command. Protect the school. We don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with yet, but we do know they’re familiar with our city, and the only way they can be stopped is to sever their spines. Take off their heads.”
“And we will know what we’re dealing with soon. We have one of them. We’re going to get answers,” Stark said grimly.
“Which you won’t know about unless the cell service comes back on,” I added. “So, be careful.”
“This is going to sound strange, but don’t let them bite you,” Aphrodite said.
“What do you know?” I asked.
“Nothing for sure. Yet. But my gut is telling me something, and I know what I saw in my vision. A red tide covered Tulsa, and there just weren’t that many of them that came through whatever the hell that was in the park. I put two and two together. Don’t let them bite you. Period.”
“Better to be safe.” I lifted my hands and the Sons of Erebus bowed their heads. “May Nyx’s blessing fill you with strength and courage and wisdom—and may you return here safely to give your thanks to our goddess. Blessed be.”
“Blessed be,” the Warriors replied.
I grabbed Darius before he could follow his Warriors from the room and hugged him. “Stay safe. No one could stand Aphrodite if you weren’t here.”
“I will, High Priestess,” he said.
Then Aphrodite was in his arms. She kissed him thoroughly and pulled the gorgeous blue, black, and white Burberry scarf from where she’d draped it around her neck, wrapping it high up on his bicep and tying it there securely.
“My beauty? Do you think my arm will be cold?”
Her smile was trembly. “No, and it’s silk anyway so it’s not exactly warm. You’re my Warrior. My knight. Swordmaster of the Sons of Erebus. It’s right that you should carry your prophetess’ favor into battle.”
“I suppose you expect me to bring it back to you unharmed and unstained?”
“You suppose correctly. And the only stains I’ll tolerate are other people’s blood. Not yours. I’ll know the difference.” She kissed him again, and he followed his Warriors up the stairs.
“I think we should post lookouts all along the wall,” Stark said.
“I agree,” I said.
“U-we-tsi-a-ge-ya, did you not tell me you had the city designate the House of Night as a storm shelter?” Grandma said.
“I did. Crap!” I just realized the implications of what Grandma had said. “If the snow’s bad enough to knock out cell service it’s just a matter of time before the electricity is out. Our gaslights and our gas heat won’t be affected, so the humans in the neighborhood might start straggling here. Don’t mistake them for the red zombie vampyre things.”
“Good point,” Stark said. “Thanks for reminding us, Grandma Redbird.”
“And I need someone to stay at the phone in the admin office,” I said. “Keep calling Kramisha’s landline. We need to know what’s going on down there.”
“Nicole and I can do that,” Shaylin said. I smiled my thanks to her as she hurried from the basement.
“Warriors, divide yourself into shifts according to squads,” Stark was telling the Sons of Erebus. “First Squad, begin patrol immediately. Second Squad, relieve them at dawn. I’ll brief you on what we learn about these creatures ASAP.” The Warriors saluted him, bowed to me, and filed up the stairway.
We were facing a scary, dangerous unknown, but I felt safe knowing that our Warriors were standing guard—and I knew, no matter how awful it was out there—Darius would bring his Warriors back.
Was I being naïve? I hoped not. I hoped I was being a High Priestess who had faith in her Warriors.
“Tell me what has happened, Zoeybird,” Grandma said.
“It’s easier to show you. Where is he?” I asked Stark.
“We put him in the last bedroom. It was the smallest, and has a steel door with a lock.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the far corner of the basement. Now that the group of Warriors was gone, I could see Damien was sitting on a chair just outside the closed door to the little guest room. Rephaim and Shaunee stood on either side of him.
“Okay, time for answers,” I said. “How are you holding up?” I asked Damien as I approached him.
He looked up at me with haunted eyes framed with dark, puffy circles. His face was too thin. His skin was too white. He looked awful.
“He’s alive. That’s all I’ve been able to really take in.”
I nodded. “I can’t say I understand how you feel, but I can imagine how it would be if Heath or even Aurox suddenly showed up here—alive, but not really themselves. It’d be hard. Really hard. What can I do to help you through this?”
“All of us,” Aphrodite spoke up from beside me. “What can all of us do to help you?”
Damien wiped his eyes and attempted a smile. “Just be here with me. I—I don’t think I should be alone right now. So, even if I tell you to go away, please don’t.”
“Oh, boyfriend, you can definitely count on us to be übernosy and all up in your business,” Shaunee said.
“That’s right,” Stevie Rae said. “Heck, I don’t even need an excuse to be in your business. I like it. I’m naturally übernosy.
“Sadly, that’s too true,” Aphrodite said. “But you can count on us. We’re the Nerd Herd. Shit can’t tear us apart.”
“One for all—all for nerd!” Stevie Rae shouted.
“Th-thanks,” Damien said, wiping more tears from his face. “Okay. I’m ready for whatever.”
“And I do not understand,” Grandma said.
“Stay back by Stark,” I told Grandma. “We’re going to open this door. Jack’s inside. But he’s not our Jack.”
Grandma’s startled expression cleared quickly. She moved to Damien’s side and gently touched his shoulder. “I see. And I am here for you, too, child.”
Damien squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Grandma. That helps.”
“Remember, be careful,” I said. “It’s tough, but we don’t really know this kid—and he’s a different kind of red fledgling.”
“A zombie kind,” Aphrodite said.
“No! I can’t believe—” Damien began, but my raised hand stopped him.
“Damien, we don’t know what he is. We do know we’re going to keep you—and the rest of us—safe. Don’t be defensive. Remember we’re all on your side and we want to be on Jack’s side, too. We just don’t know what side he’s on.”
Damien nodded brokenly.
Grandma rested her hand on his shoulder. “I will stay with you, child.”
“Let’s do this,” Stark said, and opened the door.
Other Jack startled, hissed at us. I noticed his eyes weren’t red, though, and he stopped his hissing when none of us tried to come into the room. He was sitting on the edge of a very comfy queen-sized bed, clutching a tall glass that was empty, but my awesome sense of smell told me that Aphrodite had made sure he’d gotten a blood smoothie first thing.
“Hi, Jack,” I said. “Want more of that?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll get him some more,” Shaunee said, hurrying away.
“We need to talk to you,” I said. “It’s important.”
“I don’t have anything to say to rebels.”
“We aren’t rebels,” Stark said.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you, General. But you’re not a red vampyre. You’re Neferet’s right hand—leader of the Blue Army.” He made a brisk gesture that took in Stark’s adult red vampyre tattoos that were in the shape of arrows.
“Okay, here’s the thing.” Stark took one of the chairs from outside the room, turned it around, and nonchalantly sat in it, like talking to red fledgling dead/undead Jack was an everyday occurrence. “Something happened in Woodward Park. We don’t know why. We don’t know how. We do know you aren’t from here because the Jack who was a part of this world died several months ago.”
“How?” Jack’s voice was faint. His eyes flicked back and forth from Stark to me.
“Let’s table that until later,” I said.
“No.” Damien got up from his chair and moved into the doorway with us. “No. We’re telling him the truth. All of the truth. If we don’t, how can we expect him to trust us?”
“Damien has a good point, u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya,” Grandma agreed.
“Okay, but just the basics for now. We’re under a time crunch,” I said. “Jack, your death was made to look like an accident, but we’re pretty sure Neferet killed you—or at least caused your death.”
“But how?” he asked, sounding so much like our Jack that my heart squeezed.
“It was a sword,” Damien said. “You fell off a ladder and landed on a sword.”
“What was I doing on a ladder?”
“Decorating,” Damien said.
“Oh. That makes sense,” Jack said.
I almost smiled. “Um, Jack, where are you from?”
He looked surprised. “Tulsa.”
I reconsidered and changed my question. “When are you from? What year is it?”
“2017. Well, it’s almost 2018.”
I sighed and muttered, “That didn’t help.”
“How about this—you’re obviously a red fledgling,” Stark said.
Jack nodded.