by P. C. Cast
“They’re magically delicious,” Shaylin said. “And if you find them I’ll have some, too.”
“Count Chocula.” Since it didn’t look like Aphrodite was going to kill anyone (at that moment) my voice was working again. “If you see a box of that, I’ll take it.”
“What the hell’s wrong with mimosas?” Aphrodite was saying. “Orange juice is for breakfast.”
“What about the champagne part? That’s alcohol,” Stevie Rae said.
“It’s pink Veuve Clicquot. That means it’s good champagne, which cancels out the alcohol part,” Aphrodite said.
“Do you really believe that?” Shaylin asked.
Looking at me and pointedly ignoring Shaylin, Aphrodite said, “Why is it speaking to me?”
“I have a headache, and we haven’t even left for school yet,” I told Aphrodite.
“The stables almost burned down and our High Priestess was outed for being a murderous demi-goddess. I think we can all miss school today,” Aphrodite said.
“Nuh uh,” Stevie Rae said. “We gotta go to school because of all that. Thanatos is gonna need us. Plus, Dragon’s got to have his funeral pyre. That’s gonna be bad, but we have to be there for it.”
That even shut up Aphrodite. She continued to drink while Stevie Rae poured herself and Shaylin some Lucky Charms (which is a lesser cereal than Count Chocula, even though it does have marshmallows), and we all just looked generally gloomy.
“I’m gonna miss Dragon,” I said. “But it’s really cool that he’s with Anastasia again. And the Otherworld is awesome. Really.”
“You got to actually see them reunited, didn’t you?” Shaylin asked, wide-eyed.
“We all did,” I said, smiling.
“It was beautiful,” Stevie Rae said, sniffling and wiping her eyes.
“Yeah,” Aphrodite said softly.
Shaylin cleared her throat. “Look, Aphrodite, I didn’t mean to sound so bitchy before. What I said was wrong. I shouldn’t use my gift like that. You do have a flickery yellow light inside your moonlight light, but that’s not because you’re going to blow out. It’s part of your uniqueness—your warmth. Here’s the truth—it’s small and hidden, because you keep how warm and good you really are hidden most of the time. But that doesn’t change that it’s still there. So, I’m sorry.”
Aphrodite turned cool blue eyes to Shaylin and said, “It puts the lotion in the bucket.”
“Oh, boy,” I said. “Aphrodite, just drink your breakfast. Shaylin, that’s a good example of what you and I were talking about before. I don’t question your gift. I don’t doubt it. I do have an issue with your judgment in deciphering it.”
“I deciphered it perfectly,” Shaylin said, sounding upset and defensive. “But Aphrodite pissed me off. So I messed up. I said I was sorry.”
“Apology not accepted,” Aphrodite said, and turned her back on Shaylin.
Which was when Damien came rushing into the room, holding his iPad and looking more disheveled than he usually looked when he emerged from what he liked to call his beauty rejuvenation period. He hurried straight to me, lifted his iPad, and said. “You guys have to watch this!”
I was only mildly curious at first as I saw the Fox 23 evening news anchor, the totally to-die-for gorgeous Chera Kimiko talking. We hearted us some Chera. Not only was she vampyre-level beautiful, but she was actually a real person, versus the usual plastic talking heads news anchor types.
Aphrodite peeked over my shoulder at Damien’s iPad. “Kimiko is classic. I’ll never forget that time she spit out her gum right in the middle of the news. I thought my dad was gonna shit kittens because—”
“Chera’s great, but this is bad,” Damien cut her off. “And serious. Neferet just gave a press conference.”
Ah, hell …
CHAPTER SIX
Zoey
We all huddled around Damien’s iPad. He pressed play and the Fox 23 video began. Along the bottom of the screen blazed the caption: CHAOS AT THE TULSA HOUSE OF NIGHT? Then the screen was filled with Neferet and a bunch of guys in suits. She was standing someplace really pretty—lots of marble and art deco. I felt a little start of recognition. Chera Kimiko was speaking off camera.
“Vampyres and violence? You’d be surprised at who is saying yes. Fox 23 exclusively has breaking news tonight from a former High Priestess at Tulsa’s House of Night.”
A stupid commercial came up and while Damien tried to skip it I said, “The picture looks like she’s someplace downtown.”
“It’s the lobby of the Mayo,” Aphrodite said dryly. “And that’s my dad standing behind her.”
“Ohmygoodness!” Stevie Rae’s eyes were giant and round. “She’s giving a press conference with the mayor?”
“And some of the city council. Those are the rest of the suits with him,” Aphrodite said.
Then the video started to play and we all shut up and gawked.
“I am here to officially and publicly sever my ties with the Tulsa House of Night and the Vampyre High Council.” Somehow Neferet managed to look regal and victimized at the same time.
“She’s so full of shit,” Aphrodite said.
“Shhh!” the rest of us shushed her.
“High Priestess Neferet, why would you sever ties with your people?” asked one of the reporters.
“Can we not be considered one people? Are we all not intelligent beings with the capacity to love and understand one another?” Apparently she was speaking rhetorically because she didn’t wait for an answer. “Vampyre politics have become distasteful to me. Many of you know that recently I opened employment at the House of Night to the Tulsa community. I did so because of my conviction that humans and vampyres can do more than just uneasily co-exist. We can live and work and even love together.”
Stevie Rae made gagging noises. I kept shaking my head back and forth in disbelief.
“I received so much resistance from the Vampyre High Council that they sent their High Priestess of Death, Thanatos, to Tulsa to intercede. The current vampyre administration promotes violence and segregation—just look at the past six months and the record of increasing violence in Midtown Tulsa. Do you really believe all of the attacks, especially those involving bloodletting, were human gang related?”
“High Priestess, are you admitting that vampyres have attacked humans in Tulsa?”
Neferet’s hand flew dramatically to her neck. “If I knew that with one hundred percent certainty, I would have gone to the local police immediately. I only have suspicions and concerns. I also have a conscience, which is why I have left the House of Night.” Her smile was luminous. “Please, you no longer need to call me High Priestess. From here on I am simply Neferet.”
Even through the video I could see the reporter blushing and smiling at her.
“There have been rumors of a new kind of vampyre, one with red Marks. Can you substantiate that rumor?” asked another reporter.
“Sadly, I can. There is, indeed, a new type of vampyre—and fledgling. Those who are Marked in red are damaged in some way.”
“Damaged? Can you give us an example?”
“Certainly. The first that comes to mind is James Stark—a fledgling who came to us from Chicago after he accidentally caused his mentor’s death. He has become the first Warrior red vampyre.”
I gasped.
“That bitch is talking about your boyfriend!” Aphrodite said.
“Just last night the school’s longtime Sword Master, Dragon Lankford, was killed. Gored to death by a bull. Lankford was in James Stark’s company when the accident”—she emphasized the word, making it clear she didn’t believe it—“happened.”
“Are you saying this Stark vampyre is dangerous?”
“I’m afraid he could be. Actually, many of the new fledglings and vampyres could be. After all, the new High Priestess of the Tulsa House of Night is Death.”
“Can you give us more specifics about—”
One of the suits stepped forward, cutting Nefere
t off. “I, more than most, am highly concerned about these developments in the vampyre community. As many of you know, my beloved daughter, Aphrodite, was Marked almost four years ago. I understand all too well that vampyres do not like humans to meddle in their personal, political, or criminal affairs. They have long policed their own. But, let me assure you, and our local House of Night, that by Tulsa Council resolution, we will be creating a committee to look into vampyre-human relations. I’m afraid that is all the time we have for questions today.” The man who stepped forward and spoke into Neferet’s microphone was Aphrodite’s dad—the mayor of Tulsa. “I do have one more short announcement to make. Beginning immediately, Neferet has been added to the City Council committee under the title of Vampyre Liaison. Let me reiterate, Tulsa intends to partner with vampyres who wish to live peacefully with humans.” When the reporters all started speaking at once, he raised one hand, smiled a little patronizingly (which weirdly reminded me of Aphrodite). “Neferet will be authoring a weekly column in the Tulsa World’s Scene insert. For now that will be the forum through which she will answer your multitudes of questions. Keep in mind that we are at the very beginnings of a partnership here. We must move slowly and gently so as not to upset the delicate balance of vampyre-human relations.”
I was watching Neferet’s face instead of the mayor and I saw the way her eyes narrowed and the hardening of her expression. Then Mayor LaFont waved at the camera and the video shifted back to Chera Kimiko and the studio. Damien tapped the screen, and it went blank.
“Oh, for shit’s sake! My father has lost what living with my mother had left of his mind,” Aphrodite said.
“Hey, thought I heard someone call my name.” Stark walked into the room, running his fingers through his bed head and giving me his sexy, cocky, half smile.
“Neferet just had a press conference and told everyone you’re a dangerous killer,” I heard myself telling him.
“She did what?” He looked as shocked as I felt.
“Yeah, and she did more than that,” Aphrodite said. “She got with my dad and has the city making her look all good-guy-like, and us all blood-sucker-like.”
“Uh, newsflash of our own, Aphrodite,” Stevie Rae said. “You’re not a blood-sucker anymore.”
“Oh, please. As if my parents know anything about me. I haven’t spoken to either one of them for months. I’m only their daughter when it’s convenient for them—like now.”
“If it wasn’t so scary it’d be funny,” Shaylin said.
“Neferet is making it look like she broke with the High Council and the school, versus being kicked out for killing my mom,” I explained to Stark.
“She can’t do that,” Stark said. “The Vampyre High Council won’t let her do that.”
“My dad is loving this,” Aphrodite said. I noticed she’d set the champagne aside and this time was refilling her glass with just orange juice. “For years he’s wanted to figure out how he could get in with vampyres. After they got over me not turning into a clone of my mom, they were actually pleased when I was Marked.”
I was watching Aphrodite closely and remembering the day that seemed so long ago now when I had overheard her parents being really pissed at her for having the leadership of the Dark Daughters taken away from her and given to me. Aphrodite was looking like her usual ice queen self right now, but in my memory I could still hear the sound of her mother’s hand slapping her face and see the tears she had had to choke down. It couldn’t be easy for her to have her dad call her a “beloved daughter” when the truth seemed like all he’d ever wanted was to use her.
“Why? What do your parents want with vamps?” Stevie Rae asked.
“To get access to more money—more power—more beauty. In other words, being part of the cool crowd. It’s all they’ve ever wanted—to be cool and powerful. They use whoever they can to get them what they want, including me, and, obviously, Neferet,” Aphrodite said, weirdly echoing what I’d been thinking.
“Neferet is not the way for them to get any of that,” I said.
“No kiddin’, Z, she’s crazier than a rat in a tin shithouse,” Stevie Rae said.
“Well, whatever that means, yeah, but not just that. Did anyone else notice Neferet’s look when Aphrodite’s dad was talking? She definitely didn’t like how things ended,” I said.
“A committee, a newspaper column, and going slowly and gently doesn’t seem like something the Consort of Darkness would be particularly interested in,” Damien agreed.
“And she definitely didn’t like it when the mayor avoided the question about you being dangerous,” I said.
“I’d like to be dangerous to Neferet!” Stark blurted, still looking kinda shell-shocked.
“My dad is very good at promising one thing and delivering another,” said Aphrodite. “I can tell you right now that he thinks he can play that game with Neferet.” She shook her head. No matter how callous she sounded, her expression was strained.
“We need to go to the House of Night. Now. If Thanatos doesn’t know about this, she needs to,” I said.
Neferet
Humans were so weak and boring and so terribly plain, Neferet thought as she watched the mayor, Charles LaFont, simper and placate and continue to avoid any direct questions about danger and deaths and vampyres after their press conference. Even this man who the whisperings of rumor said was next in line for a senatorial seat, and was supposedly so charismatic and dynamic … Neferet had to hide her sarcastic laughter in a cough. This man was nothing. Neferet had expected more from Aphrodite’s father.
Father! A voice echoed from her past, startling her and causing Neferet’s grip on the filigreed iron banister to tighten suddenly, spasmodically. She had to cough again to hide the cracking sound that came from the wrought iron as she pried her hand from it. This was when her patience ended.
“Mayor LaFont, would you escort me to my penthouse.” The words should have been a question, but Neferet’s voice did not frame them as such. The four city councilmen who had joined the press conference and the mayor turned in her direction. She easily read each of them.
They all found her beautiful and desirable.
Two so much so that they would be willing to forsake their wives, their families, and their careers to mate with her.
Charles LaFont was not one of those two. Aphrodite’s father lusted after her—of that there was no doubt—but his foremost desire was not sexual. LaFont’s greatest need was to feed his wife’s obsession with status and social acceptance. It was a pity, really, that he couldn’t be more easily seduced.
All of them feared her.
That made Neferet smile.
Charles LaFont cleared his throat and nervously adjusted his tie. “Of course, of course. It would be my pleasure to escort you.”
Neferet nodded coolly to the other men and ignored their hot eyes on her as she and LaFont got into the elevator and headed up to her penthouse suite.
She didn’t speak. Neferet knew he was nervous and much more unsure of himself than he pretended to be. In public his façade was one of easy charm and entitlement. But Neferet saw the scared, simpering human that crouched below his surface.
The elevator doors opened and she stepped out into the marble foyer of her suite.
“Join me for a drink, Charles.” Neferet gave him no opportunity to decline. She strode to the ornate, art deco bar and poured two glasses of rich red wine.
As she knew he would, he followed her.
She handed him one of the glasses. He hesitated and she laughed. “It is only a very expensive cabernet—not laced with blood at all.”
“Oh, indeed.” He took the glass and chuckled nervously, reminding her of a small, skittish lapdog.
Neferet loathed dogs almost as much as she loathed men.
“I had more to reveal today than just the information about James Stark,” she said coldly. “I think the community deserves to understand just how dangerous the House of Night vampyres have become.”
“And I think the community does not need to be panicked needlessly,” LaFont countered with.
“Needlessly?” She spoke the one word question sharply.
LaFont nodded and stroked his chin. Neferet was certain he believed he looked wise and benevolent. To her eyes he appeared weak and ridiculous.
It was then that Neferet noticed his hands. They were large and pale, with thick fingers that, for all their size, looked soft and almost feminine.
Neferet’s stomach heaved. She almost gagged on her wine as some of her cool demeanor slipped.
“Neferet? Are you well?” he asked her.
“Quite well,” she spoke quickly. “Except that I am confused. Are you saying that by alerting Tulsa of the dangers of these new vampyres you would be needlessly panicking them?”
“That is exactly what I’m saying. After the press conference Tulsa will be on alert. Continuing violence will not be tolerated; it will be stopped.”
“Really? How do you intend to stop vampyre violence?” Neferet’s voice was deceptively soft.
“Well, that is quite simple. I will continue to carry on with what we began today. You have alerted the public. With you acting as liaison on our newly established committee between the City and the High Council, you will be a voice of reason speaking for human-vampyre coexistence.”
“So it is with words that you will stop their violence,” she said.
“Spoken and written words, yes,” he nodded, looking very pleased with himself. “I do apologize if I spoke out of turn when I mentioned the newspaper column. It was a last-minute notion of my good friend, Jim Watts, senior editor of the Scene insert of the Tulsa World. I would have spoken to you about it first, but since you appeared at my office this afternoon with your alert, things spiraled quickly and publicly.”
Because I arranged them that way—because I goaded your inept system into action. Now it is time I push you into action just as I did the journalists and the councilmen.
“Reticence and writing were not what I planned when I sought you out,” she said.