Forgotten

by P. C. Cast

  Stark leaned forward. “I contacted our private hangar. No one has seen him there.”

  Kevin snorted. “That doesn’t mean he didn’t hop on a regular human flight to almost anywhere.”

  “Oh, Goddess! You don’t actually believe he could be in contact with Neferet?” Anastasia’s usually serene face paled. “What does he know about the Other World? I should never have allowed anyone who was allied with Neferet onto our Council!”

  Stark smoothed his hands down the sides of the chair’s leather arms. “Well, then, that would have excluded me.” His voice was rough with self-reproach.

  Kevin didn’t think about it—he simply acted on instinct. He reached out and rested his hand on Stark’s shoulder. “Hey, that also would’ve meant Professor P and Professor Nolan would’ve been left out—and you know how awesome they are.

  Dragon paced to Stark’s side, nodding in agreement. “They remained here, doing their best to continue to educate fledglings, even though that meant they had to bow to Neferet. Do not torture yourself with blame, Stark. When you truly knew better, you did better.” Dragon’s gaze warmed and shifted to his mate. “And do not blame yourself either, my love. Now is not the time for that. Now is the time for action.”

  Kevin squeezed Stark’s shoulder before dropping his hand back to his lap. “Dragon’s right. Self-blame is what’s destroying the red vampyres. We can’t go down that path.”

  Anastasia smiled and some of the color returned to her smooth cheeks. “My Warriors are correct. I shall not waste my energy with self-blame.”

  Kevin thought her smile could lighten anyone’s dark mood, and he grinned in return, saying, “Hey, we need to keep in mind that Blake doesn’t know much. Remember that he tended to be too busy ‘composing poetry’”—Kevin air quoted sarcastically—“to make most of our Council meetings.”

  Anastasia’s bright expression turned somber. “But he does know that Zoey came from an alternate world much like ours. Correct?”

  Dragon sighed and nodded. “He does. Though, like Kevin, I don’t believe he knows many details.”

  Anastasia tapped the eraser end of a pencil against her desk. “Details or not, it would be very bad for Neferet to find out about the Other World.”

  “That’s for sure,” said Kevin. He leaned forward earnestly. “My offer still stands. I’ll go to Zoey and warn her that our Neferet is still on the loose and might have found out about her world. And while I’m there I’ll get as many details about Kalona as I can.”

  Anastasia shook her head, making a slicing motion with her slender hand. “No. Not yet. The risk is too great unless we have no choice.” She turned to Stark. “Have you made any headway in finding Neferet?”

  “You mean in the day since our last Council meeting? No. Nothing,” Stark said. “And I have to say I agree with Kevin. Someone needs to go to the Other World.”

  Anastasia steepled her fingers as if she was preparing to pray. Her voice was serene steel. “Stark, I appreciate your insight. I appreciate that you found your way back to the Goddess and that you had a hand in stopping Neferet, but, like Kevin, your emotions are too involved. Your judgment is impaired when it comes to the Other World—so is yours, Kevin.”

  Dragon resumed his pacing. “Right now, we need to focus on finding Blake and Neferet. Let’s hope they’re not together.”

  Kevin kept his frustration controlled, but he couldn’t help the edge that crept into his voice. “And when we do finally find them, what do we do if they are together?”

  Anastasia sighed. “Then, unless we capture or kill Neferet, you will, indeed, have to go to Zoey and warn her.”

  “I agree,” said Dragon.

  Kevin stood. “Okay, I’ll go back to Blake’s room and go through everything. Maybe he left something behind that’ll give us an idea of where he’s headed.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Stark said, standing beside Kevin.

  They nodded respectfully to Anastasia and Dragon, then left the office quickly, heading toward the professors’ quarters. The night was cold and the gaslights reminded Kevin of flitting ghosts under copper domes. He rubbed his hands together and realized his palms were sweaty.

  He glanced sideways at Stark. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  Stark’s breath made misty puffs in the air. “Ditto. You’re going to have to go to the Other World.”

  They’d reached the part of the sidewalk that passed the statue of Nyx, and the scent of the votive offerings left by fledglings filled the frigid air with a sweetness that had Kevin pausing before the Goddess. “Yeah, that’s what I figure too,” he said softly, staring up at Nyx. “I bet Blake heard from Neferet and he’s going to meet her.”

  Stark seemed impervious to the presence of the Goddess. He grunted and rubbed his hands together to warm them. “That slimy bastard. I’ve always had a bad feeling about him. How much do you think he actually knows?”

  Kevin opened himself to the soothing presence of Nyx, and was filled by a certainty that was echoed in his words. “I’m sure he knows that Zo came from another world, and I’d bet that he also knows that the Neferet over there is immortal and was defeated and entombed.”

  “Shit! That’s bad,” Stark said, shifting his weight from foot to foot restlessly.

  Kevin let his gaze fall from the Goddess to Stark. “Yeah. I don’t remember ever talking about how we actually got back and forth between worlds—at least not in front of anyone except Dragon and Anastasia.”

  “Well, that’s a little good news,” said Stark. “Blake is too stupid to figure out the hows of it by himself.”

  “Yeah, but Neferet isn’t.”

  Stark ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “Shit. Bad. Again.”

  “Yep. I think Anastasia is going to have to let me go to Zo’s world. I know she doesn’t want to, but I really don’t think we have any choice,” said Kevin.

  “I’m going with you.”

  Kevin shook his head. “Dude, I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Well, when has a bad idea ever stopped me? You go—I go. That’s it.”

  Kevin shrugged and returned his gaze to Nyx. “Not up to me.” He was filled with a rush of warmth that accompanied the certainty he already felt—and then he added silently, Thanks, Nyx. Zo is definitely gonna need my help dealing with two Neferets as well as two Starks …

  19

  Other Neferet

  Neferet slipped by the front-desk staff easily as Lynette made a very loud, very American scene about needing a new keycard because hers kept not working. Keeping her head tilted down, and her hat and glasses on, Neferet chose the stairwell, avoiding the cameras in the elevator. They would, of course, record Lynette’s face, as well as Loren Blake’s, but with her hair piled up under her hat, her tattoos covered, and her face obscured by huge Jackie O sunglasses, Neferet could be any tall, willowy woman wearing jeans and a sweater.

  The lock to Neferet’s suite flashed green, and she slipped into the room unnoticed. The door closed behind her with a secure click and whir of the deadbolt. Neferet breathed a relieved sigh as she tossed her hat, sunglasses, and purse onto the plush couch. One of the things Neferet liked best about this hotel was that each suite had been decorated differently. This particular suite had a plush ivory carpet and a lovely terrace, and was decorated with gorgeous upholstery that featured exotic birds and flowers.

  Neferet plucked the little sachet of sugar-like poison out of her emerald-green Manolo Blahnik clutch and shook it, noticing that the white powder glistened in the muted lamplight. Wee Denise had been so helpful in procuring the lethal dose. “Perhaps I should poison him.” She rounded the couch, dragging her pointed nails along its high back as she considered her options. “It would be such a shame to stain any of this.”

  Neferet stilled as the door unlocked and Lynette breathlessly hurried into the s
uite. “The champagne service is on its way up.” She paused, nervously smoothing out her cardigan. “I’ll stay long enough to set it up for you. Is there anything else you need?”

  Neferet frowned at Lynette. “Yes, handmaid, I need for you to not be so obviously nervous.”

  Lynette froze and then she sighed and fussed with her hair before she nodded and, sounding much more like herself, said, “You are absolutely right, as usual, my lady. All will be well. You simply will not tolerate failure.”

  Neferet sighed and slid the sachet back into her clutch. “Of course I won’t, my dear, though I will be pleased when this tedious night is over. The drive here was unendingly long.”

  With her usual level of competence, Lynette fluffed the already perfect velvet throw pillows and moved Neferet’s hat to the dresser top. “I know. But at least it stopped raining. I see a heater on the balcony. Do you want me to set up the champagne out there?”

  Neferet sat on the love seat, lounging back against the down-filled upholstery. She glanced at the balcony, making her mind up instantly. “No, my dear. I do not want to chance being seen. I am extraordinarily memorable.”

  “Very true, my lady.”

  There were two knocks. “Room service.” The muffled words drifted through the door.

  Neferet stood and quickly stepped into the bathroom while Lynette opened the door. She waited impatiently, staring at her reflection in the antique mirror. Neferet grimaced, hating the fact that her exquisite Mark was hidden under thick makeup. “Never again,” she promised herself.

  Finally, Lynette called, “Okay, he’s gone. Here, I poured you a glass. Thought you might need it.” Lynette handed her the beautiful champagne flute filled with bubbly.

  “You are such a dear.” Neferet sipped appreciatively. “How much time do we have?”

  Lynette checked her phone. “He landed thirty minutes ago, which is when he replied, acknowledging that he was at Heathrow and on his way here. It takes a little over an hour to get here from the airport.”

  “Excellent. That means I have time to change into nothing and drink most of this champagne before he arrives.”

  “Shall I order another bottle, my lady?” Lynette asked as she refilled Neferet’s flute.

  “Indeed. And I shall slip out of these awful jeans.” Neferet paused and shuddered delicately.

  “When I made the reservation I reminded them to have their highest quality bathrobe set out and ready in the suite.” Lynette hurried past Neferet to open the expensive armoire that rested against the bedroom wall. “Oh, yes! Here it is.”

  Neferet glanced over the flute at it as she sipped champagne. “It will do. Put it in the bathroom for me, my dear.”

  Lynette disappeared into the luxurious bathroom. Returning she said, “I believe I should go get the extra bottle for you. I think it’s best to keep people away from this suite as much as possible.”

  Neferet drained the glass before placing it back on its silver tray. She pulled off her sweater and stepped out of her jeans, leaving them in a dark, discarded heap on the thick carpet. Naked, she refilled her flute. “I agree, dear Lynette.”

  Lynette quickly picked up her mistress’s clothes, hanging them neatly in the armoire. “My lady,” she glanced over her shoulder at Neferet. “Are you nervous?”

  “Whatever for?”

  “Well, you’re getting ready to see an old love whom you’re going to kill. That would make me really nervous.”

  Neferet laughed and waved her scarlet fingernails dismissively as she walked past Lynette, entering the bathroom to retrieve the thick bathrobe. “Dear Lynette, that is why I am the goddess and you are the handmaid. I am not nervous. I am anxious. Also, I can’t seem to decide whether I should poison or stab him. It is such a conundrum.”

  “You should wait and decide when he’s here. If he’s just mildly annoying, you’ll probably want to poison him.” Lynette handed Neferet a refilled glass of champagne as she returned to lounge on the love seat. “Wee Denise did say whatever is in that little bag will make him pass out and then his heart will stop—painlessly and silently.”

  Neferet tapped her fingernail against the crystal flute. “But if he is entirely irritating and as whiny and clingy as he tends to be, it will probably be satisfying to stab him, even though he will bleed all over this deliciously plush carpet.”

  “That would be a shame,” Lynette said as she gave the carpet an appreciative look.

  “Exactly what I was thinking.” Neferet shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, however I do it I shall make it quick. I want to get this annoying detail over with and return to Skye. We still need to figure out how to kill my future.”

  “That one’s a lot harder than your past,” Lynette said.

  “Yes, I agree.” Neferet made a shooing gesture at Lynette. “Quickly! Get that champagne. Then wait down the street at that exceptionally good Italian restaurant I pointed out on the way in. I do hope there will be time to have a delicious, leisurely meal when I’m finished with Loren. I adore their pasta.”

  “I could order something to go.”

  “No need. I’ll simply take care of Loren quickly so that we can enjoy our dinner. I do hate takeout, don’t you?”

  “It’s never as good as eating in the restaurant,” Lynette said.

  “Exactly.”

  “I’ll return shortly.” Lynette hurried out the door.

  She was back with a second bottle of champagne just as Neferet finished loosening the intricate braid that had held her hair prisoner under the ridiculous hat she’d been forced to wear as a disguise.

  “You look beautiful,” said Lynette.

  “I do, don’t I? It’ll be wasted on Loren because he will so shortly be dead, but at least I’ll be spared the bad odes he would have written celebrating my beauty.”

  “That is a silver lining.” Lynette glanced at her phone. “Oh! I have to go. He’ll be here in about fifteen minutes. Not that you need it, but good luck.”

  “No, I don’t, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

  Lynette hadn’t been gone two minutes when there was a knock on the door. Loren was early. Neferet sighed in exasperation. She truly loathed people who were early. It was a sign of a sense of pompous and unwarranted self-importance—a description that accurately fit Loren Blake. Neferet pressed her eye to the spy hole. Loren breathed into the palm of his hand and sniffed. Neferet grimaced, sighed, and then opened the door.

  “Beloved!” She flung her arms wide, being sure her bathrobe also opened to reveal her nakedness.

  “‘She walks in beauty, like the night. Of cloudless climes and starry skies. And all that’s best of dark and bright, meets in her aspect and her eyes,’” Blake quoted as he rushed into the suite and took her in his arms, kissing her passionately.

  Neferet returned the kiss. Briefly. Then she pushed away, laughing coyly. “I have always so loved your eagerness.”

  “I have been without you for days and days, my own! And look at you! You’ve covered your Mark!”

  Neferet affected a trembling hand as she pressed it to her forehead where heavy makeup completely covered her elaborate tattoo. “I had to, dearest. I cannot let them catch me and drag me back to Tulsa to be at the mercy of my betrayers.” With a choked sob, she collapsed into the plush love seat before which Lynette had set up the champagne service. “Do have a drink. You must be exhausted from your flight.”

  Loren shuddered and dropped to the love seat beside her, pouring himself a glass of champagne and refilling hers. “It was a dreadful flight. I had to travel coach class.”

  Neferet gasped, not having to act to show horror. “That is, indeed, dreadful. But, Loren, you made quite certain no one at the House of Night knows you’re here?”

  “Absolutely, my own. I made sure of it. And anyway, the new leaders of the House of Night don’t care about me.”

>   “Oh, dearest, do not underestimate your importance. For me, you symbolize a rich past.”

  “Yes, but for them I am only a deposed poet.” He sighed melodramatically. Neferet thought for a moment that he would cry and swore to herself if he did she would pull the knife out of the deep pocket of her robe and slit his throat immediately. “Plus, they’re too busy coddling the red vampyres and burying stories about that other Zoey to care about anything really important. I mean, come on. Who the hell cares that she was from another world that is a mirror of our own? Like that has anything to do with our world and our war?”

  A stab of shock jolted through Neferet that was so strong, so surprising, that she almost dropped her champagne flute. She placed it carefully on the small table and turned to face Loren.

  “What did you just say?”

  He blinked stupidly at her ferocious expression. “About our war?”

  “No, Loren. About the vampyre who ruined my life. About the child who caused my generals to betray me. About Zoey Redbird!”

  “Ooooh, that’s right! I forgot that you weren’t there to find out about the mirror world.”

  Neferet waited, toying with the hilt of the dagger in her pocket, imagining sinking the blade into Loren’s throat.

  “Loren! Tell me everything you know about this mirror world. Now!”

  “Of course. Sorry. I’m just breathless from being in your presence. I desire you so much, my own true love.” He took the end of the cloth belt to her robe and playfully tugged it.

  Neferet’s hand snaked out and stopped him in a grip that had him yelping in pain.

  “My love, that hurts!”

  “Loren, you must remember that I am not only your love. I am also a High Priestess who has been unjustly usurped from her position. Now, tell me everything you know about Zoey and the world from which she came.”