Forgotten

by P. C. Cast

  Lynette’s cheeks blazed bright pink as she rushed to Neferet, wrapping her in a cashmere robe and helping her into the slippers the vampyre preferred.

  “They came!”

  “Just as I knew they would.” Neferet kept her voice low. She linked arms with Lynette as they started back across the deserted beach. “And now we have much to do. Dismiss my feeder for the night. I am entirely too busy to play with my food. Instead open one of his veins, fill a goblet and then pay him and send him on his way.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “I’m going to my room to change. Have Mrs. Muir lay out bread, wine, and cheese—and whatever you’d like to eat.”

  “If you agree I will insist Denise stays up, ready to serve you.”

  “Lynette, you think of everything. Yes, please do. And while I am changing I want you to begin puzzling this riddle. To move forward in the present, I must kill my past and my future.”

  “I thought they would send you on a quest. Like, perhaps, a dangerous scavenger hunt. This riddle seems mundane for creatures made from magick and the elements.” Lynette sniffed delicately.

  “I am inclined to agree with you. They are no more than sentient elements. How much of the world could they truly know?”

  “Not as much as you, my lady.”

  “Exactly! Let us make short work of their riddle. But first, get me that goblet of blood. I am famished.”

  17

  Other Lynette

  “So, we need to think symbolically,” Lynette said as she divided her attention between her laptop and her mistress.

  “I cannot literally kill my past or my future because neither are tangible, nor do they exist in the present. It seems logical that I must find an individual who represents my past, and another who represents my future—and then deal with the literal part of the riddle and kill them.”

  Neferet sighed and sipped her goblet of mixed blood and wine. They were in the sitting room of Balmacara Mains that the vampyre had turned into her private space. Wee Denise came and went silently, making sure the fire burned cheerfully and their glasses were never empty. Even though they had been working at figuring out the riddle all night, and it was now well into midmorning, they were still at it.

  Lynette didn’t mind the late hours at all. She enjoyed her alone time with Neferet, especially this Neferet who could conjure the fey from a seemingly empty night and manipulate them into doing her bidding, and then curl up with her in front of the fire and work together like Lynette was no different—no less magical—than any other vampyre or High Priestess—or even goddess.

  “It makes me wish I’d just brought a suitable sacrifice so we didn’t have to deal with all of this.” Neferet sighed again and waved her long, slender fingers at Lynette and her ever-present computer.

  Lynette peeked up over the top of the laptop. “I know you’re anxious to get to the island and begin your studies and we will figure this out—soon. But I hope you don’t mind that I tell you I’ve enjoyed every moment of the time we’ve had together, with just the two of us. I—I don’t mean to be impertinent.” She cast her eyes down, afraid she’d been too familiar.

  “Dear Lynette! It makes my heart lighter to hear you say that. I have enjoyed our time here too, and that is entirely due to you and your vast managerial skills. Do not fret. You will have many years by my side. There will be a very special place in my court for my original, and favorite, handmaid.”

  “Thank you, my lady. That gives me great comfort.” And it also lets me know that I’m going to have to figure out a way to remind you that you’ve granted me a retirement of luxury on the Amalfi Coast.

  But Lynette wouldn’t worry about her endgame at that moment. For now, she was still in the game and playing it as she has played it her whole adult life—to win.

  “So, where were we?”

  “You must kill your past. That’s where we started,” said Lynette. She’d decided a few days ago that keeping Neferet on task took up more than half of her job. It’s a good thing I’m so highly organized, she thought smugly as she searched the internet for symbolism examples—past and future.

  “We know it’s most likely not a place or Oak wouldn’t have said that I need to kill it.”

  “Then that rules out doing something to the Tulsa House of Night—or the House of Night you went to after you were Marked,” said Lynette.

  “I agree, though it is a shame. I would very much enjoy watching either the Tulsa House of Night, or my alma mater, the Chicago House of Night, burn to the ground.”

  “Something you should consider after you become a goddess,” said Lynette.

  “Make a note of that in my to-do list, please,” said Neferet.

  “Of course, my lady.” Lynette expertly opened her calendar and added another bizarre reminder. This one read: Neferet wants to burn to the ground the Tulsa and Chicago HoNs. Remind her. Encourage her. It makes her happy. Then, as Lynette returned to her research, she muttered, more to herself than to the vampyre, “I know how I’d kill my past. I’d get rid of each of my three useless ex-husbands. It’d kill the past—be enjoyable for me—and be a gift to society.”

  “Lynette! That is it!”

  “You were married?”

  “No, of course not. High Priestesses do not give away their power for social conventions, but I do take frequent lovers. So, if you could kill your past by getting rid of your three—” Neferet paused. Her brow lifted to her hairline. “You did say three husbands, did you not?”

  “I did. I used to be a slow learner.”

  “I’m so glad you got over that.”

  “I also got over the notion that I needed a man to be successful,” said Lynette.

  Neferet scoffed. “It is quite the opposite. It is much easier for a strong, intelligent woman to find success if she is not shackled to a man—something human women seem to have a difficult time understanding.”

  “You should make educating human women part of your platform when you are Goddess of Night,” said Lynette.

  “You are correct. Think of how many men would simply be unable to function if they didn’t have women orchestrating their lives and running their homes.” The vampyre clapped her hands together gleefully. “Oh, do make a note of that idea, Lynette! And put yourself in charge of the education program.”

  “It is done—and thank you, my lady.” That’s right Lynette. Keep making yourself indispensable.

  “Where were we?”

  “You were talking about killing a lover from your past,” Lynette said helpfully.

  “Ah, right you are, but not any lover will do. I need someone who symbolizes my past as High Priestess of Tulsa’s House of Night.”

  “What of your Sword Master? I believe his name is Artus.”

  “He would be perfect, but he was killed by Stark that terrible day at the stadium. His death has been entirely inconvenient,” said Neferet.

  I’m sure for him too, Lynette thought, but she said, “Did you have a special lover? Maybe someone who was important to the House of Night—or at least to Tulsa’s House of Night.”

  “James Stark comes to mind, but we never had a true connection. His tedious sense of morality was a barrier between us.”

  “Okay, someone important like General Stark, but morally bankrupt—or at least morally ambiguous.”

  Neferet sat up straight. “Loren Blake! He and I have been lovers for the past several years. I even named him Vampyre Poet Laureate, a position that has been of traditional importance to the vampyre community for centuries!”

  “My lady, he sounds perfect!” Lynette’s fingers flew over the keyboard.

  “He does, indeed. How shall I do it? Perhaps I could send him a gift. He really isn’t very bright, especially not for a poet. He wouldn’t think to be concerned if, say, his favorite dark roast coffee from Café du Monde suddenly was deliv
ered as a gift with a basket of beignets. He’d devour all of it—immediately.”

  Lynette glanced up from her computer. “Poison?”

  “That would be the easiest way. Of course, it could get messy, though Loren isn’t known for his generosity, so I doubt that he would share.” Neferet tapped her chin as she considered. “But would the sprites be bothered if a few other vampyres died with him?”

  “It is hard to know for sure, my lady.”

  “True. Though it is a risk I am more than willing to take. Perhaps if I send only a couple beignets and a small sample of coffee he would not share at all.”

  Lynette’s attention was suddenly caught by one of the responses from her search of Loren Blake’s name and she clicked on it, bringing up Blake’s Instagram account. As she read the last story she had to stop herself from jumping up and shouting in victory.

  “Lynette? Lynette! Where is your mind? I asked you to express order from the Café du Monde site.”

  She met Neferet’s gaze and saw the irritation there change as the vampyre recognized the excitement in Lynette’s eyes.

  “My dear? What is it?”

  “What would you say if Loren Blake would come to you?”

  “Here? I would say the last thing I need is the Tulsa House of Night knowing where I am. Have you become ill? How could you forget that?”

  “Forgive me, my lady. I should not be coy about something of such import.”

  “Be clear, Lynette!”

  “Yes, of course. I found Loren Blake’s Instagram account, and from his last story it is obvious that he does not like the changes at the House of Night, and he misses you.”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Earlier today he posted this poem.” Lynette read, “Silenced unfairly/Muted by cowardly fools/I miss her fierceness.”

  “Lynette! He speaks of me!”

  “As well as the current House of Night administration. He calls them cowards. My lady, the poem received several thousand likes!”

  “I knew it. I knew not all of my followers would betray me.”

  “Of course they wouldn’t, my lady!”

  “Give me your phone, dear Lynette. I need to make a call to Tulsa.”

  Lynette took her phone from the end table beside her and handed it to Neferet. “What are you going to do?”

  “Simple. Thanks to your nimble brain I am going to lure Loren Blake to London, where I will kill him. Isn’t it wonderful?”

  “Yes, it is, my lady. I live to serve you.” She curtsied low as Neferet began tapping in numbers.

  Another win for me, she thought. And I will keep winning, especially now that I am allied with someone who understands what is most important in life—power—and the safety it affords. Choosing to follow this vampyre who will soon be immortal and rule the world was the smartest decision I ever made.

  Other Neferet

  Loren answered on the third ring. “Loren Blake speaking.”

  Unbeknownst to him, Neferet put him on speaker so that she and Lynette could hover around the phone and share looks like the coconspirators they were. She pitched her voice so that she sounded young, frightened, and terribly needy—all the things the Vampyre Poet Laureate loved. “Loren! Dearest! It is I! Are you alone? Can you speak without being overheard?”

  There was a pause of several seconds—long enough for Neferet to roll her eyes and begin tapping her fingernails restlessly on the crystal goblet wee Denise had just refilled. She almost hung up, but then Loren’s voice whispered desperately back to her.

  “Neferet? My one true love? It is really you?”

  Relief washed over Neferet, and Lynette fist-pumped silently in victory. “Yes! Can you talk? I need you desperately!”

  “Yes, yes! I’m in Nyx’s Temple. No one else is here right now because everyone is doing something meaningful. My love, that terrible bitch Anastasia kicked me out of the school Council meeting, forced me to pray practically nonstop in Nyx’s Temple—you know how damp and boring this place is—and she took away my title of Poet Laureate.”

  Neferet smiled smoothly, though her voice did not reflect her pleasure. “No! She has no right! You were justly named Poet Laureate by me. I am the only High Priestess who can remove you.”

  “That’s what I thought as well. I was just considering sending a strongly worded letter to the Vampyre High Council.”

  Neferet had to squelch the desire to tell him how utterly impotent and ridiculous he was. Instead she said, “The Vampyre High Council is a governing body as obsolete as flip phones and VHS tapes. It is past time those dinosaurs went extinct.”

  “My love, do you have a plan to get rid of them?”

  “Don’t I always have a plan?”

  “Just hearing your voice is balm to my battered soul. It has been awful here since you left. Anastasia and her ilk want to make peace with the humans. Can you believe it?”

  “I can. But that is something we can discuss when you get here.”

  “Where are you? I shall come immediately! ‘I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest!’”

  Neferet and Lynette shared disgusted looks. Neferet mouthed Shakespeare quote, and Lynette rolled her eyes.

  “Here is what you must do. Leave the school immediately. Go straight to the Tulsa airport. Speak to no one. Tell no one where you are going. It would be best if no one sees you leave.”

  “My love, I can be as silent as the night!”

  “I know you can, dearest. I am counting on your discretion and ability to blend with a crowd.”

  Lynette lifted her laptop and silently pointed at Loren’s profile picture, which looked like a Hollywood headshot and was anything but discrete.

  Neferet had to cover her mouth to hold back her laughter.

  “My love, for you I would take on the world!”

  “That means more to me than I can say, but today all I need you to take is the first available flight to London. When you arrive at Heathrow get a cab to the Covent Garden Hotel.” Neferet motioned for Lynette to take notes, which she did swiftly and silently. “I will text you my suite number. Do not stop at the front desk. When you arrive, come directly to my chamber as I can hardly wait to be in your arms again.”

  “I shall! And I will text you my arrival time at Heathrow as soon as I book my flight.”

  “Dearest, please remember that you must travel with the utmost secrecy.”

  “I know! I know!” His voice dropped to a ridiculous whisper. “They’ve put out a reward for your capture—one hundred thousand dollars.”

  “Yes, dearest, I am aware of that. I am also insulted that the amount is so low.”

  “Well, there are many Warriors who would still follow you. Shall I tell them that you—”

  “Loren! What did I just say about being discrete?”

  Lynette put her face in her hands and shook her head in disgust.

  “Oh, right. Sorry. I tend to be overexuberant.”

  Hastily Lynette typed, he tends to be a braying ass! on her laptop and turned it to Neferet so she could see. Neferet hid her laughter with a cough.

  “My love! Are you ill? Great Britain is so damp, especially this time of year. Are we remaining there, or are we, perhaps, traveling to a more hospitable climate?”

  “We will definitely not be staying in London,” Neferet prevaricated. “Now, I must go. Come swiftly, dearest! I await your embrace!”

  “My own true darling, ‘For your sweet love remembered such wealth brings, that then I scorn to change my state with kings!’”

  Neferet couldn’t bear anymore. She hung up before he could steal anything else from Shakespeare.

  “Is he always like that?” Lynette asked.

  “You mean a tedious bore who isn’t entirely bright?”

  “I do.”

  “Y
es. But he is also exquisitely handsome and knows how to perform magick with his tongue.”

  “At least he has a purpose.”

  “Indeed. And right now, his purpose is to die, killing my past with him.”

  “I assume I am to book you into the Covent Garden Hotel?” Lynette asked.

  “No, you are to book yourself into the hotel. You need not worry about getting caught. Humans do not care about vampyre deaths, so you won’t have any issues from Scotland Yard.”

  “And very shortly you will be Goddess of Night, reigning over all vampyres, so I won’t have to worry about issues from them, either.”

  “Exactly. But we will be cautious. I need time to become immortal, and it would not do to be caught before then. Get a regular suite. Nothing too expensive. Nothing to draw too much attention. You are a successful American businesswoman who is in London for a short vacation.”

  “How short? How many nights should I reserve the suite?”

  “Well, he’ll probably be here sometime tomorrow. Book it for five nights, checking in tomorrow. We will not actually be staying for even one night.”

  “I assume we leave no trail from here to London and back?”

  “Correct. Hire a car with cash. The same discrete service you used when we arrived.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “I wonder what will be the best way for me to do it? I won’t use my children. London’s House of Night will notify the Tulsa House of Night as soon as Loren’s body is identified, and they would recognize the similarities in the kills from Tulsa. Lynette, I’m going to need a dagger. Something small, but lethal. And I will also need a small amount of poison in case that method will be easier than stabbing—” Neferet stopped speaking as Denise entered the parlor.

  “Mistress, might I get ye anythin’?”

  “I believe Lynette would take some coffee, wouldn’t you, my dear?”

  “Yes, please,” Lynette said without looking up from her computer.

  “And open another bottle of this excellent red. Also, call my feeder back. Lynette and I have a short journey to take, and I’d like to eat before we go.”