Текст книги "Awakened"

Автор книги: P. C. Cast

Соавторы: Kristin Cast,P. C. Cast
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Something has changed within me

Something is not the same

I’m through with playing by the rules

Of someone else’s game …

Rachel’s voice began the song, strong and clear. Jack paused with one foot on the bottom rung of the ladder, and when Kurt took over the lyrics he sang with him, matching his sweet tenor, note for note.

Too late for second-guessing

Too late to go back to sleep …

Jack moved up the ladder as he and Kurt sang, pretending he was climbing the steps of the Radio City Music Hall where the Glee cast had performed on tour last spring.

It’s time to trust my instincts

Close my eyes: and leap!

He reached the top rung of the ladder, paused, and began the first chorus with Kurt and Rachel while he reached up and threaded the fishing lure through the bare winter branches.

He was humming along with Rachel’s next lines, waiting for Kurt’s part again, when movement at the split base of the tree caught his attention and his gaze shifted to the damaged trunk. Jack gasped. He was sure he saw, right there, an image of a beautiful woman. The image was dark and indistinct, but as Kurt sang about losing love he’d guessed he’d lost, the woman became clearer, larger, more distinct.

“Nyx?” Jack whispered, awestruck.

Like a veil lifting, the woman was suddenly fully visible. She raised her head and smiled up at Jack, as exquisitely lovely as she was evil.

“Yes, little Jack. You may call me Nyx.”

“Neferet! What are you doing here?” The question burst from him before he could think.

“Actually, at this moment, I’m here because of you.”

“M-me?”

“Yes, you see, I need your help. I know how much you like to help others. That’s why I’ve come for you, Jack. Wouldn’t you like to do something for me? I can promise you that I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Worth my while? What do you mean?” Jack hated that his voice sounded squeaky.

“I mean if you do a little thing for me, then I’ll do a little thing for you, too. I’ve been away from the House of Night fledglings far too long. Perhaps I’ve lost touch with what makes their hearts beat. You could help me—guide me—show me. In return I would reward you. Think about your dreams, what it is you would want to do with your long life after you Change. I could make your dreams come true.”

Jack smiled and threw his arms out wide. “But I’m already living my dream. I’m here, in this beautiful place, with friends who have become my family. What more could anyone want?”

Neferet’s expression hardened. Her voice was stone. “What more could you want? How about dominion over this ‘beautiful place’? Beauty doesn’t last. Friends and family decay. Power is the only thing that goes on forever.”

Jack answered with his gut. “No, love goes on forever.”

Neferet’s laughter was mocking. “Don’t be such a child. I’m offering you much more than love.”

Jack looked at Neferet—really looked at her. She’d changed, and in his heart he knew why. She’d accepted evil. Utterly, completely, totally. He’d understood it before without really knowing it. There is nothing of Light or me left within her. The voice in his mind was gentle and loving, and it gave him the courage to clear the dryness from his throat and look Neferet squarely in her cold, emerald eyes. “Not to be mean or anything, Neferet, but I don’t want what you’re offering. I can’t help you. You and I, well, we’re not on the same side.” He started to climb down the ladder.

“Stay where you are!”

He didn’t know how, but Neferet’s words commanded his body. It felt like he was suddenly wrapped tightly, frozen in place by an invisible cage of ice.

“You impudent boy! You actually think you can defy me?”

Kiss me goodbye

I’m defying gravity …

“Yes,” he said as Kurt’s voice rang around him. “Because I’m on Nyx’s side, not yours. So just let me go, Neferet. I really won’t help you.”

“That is where you’re wrong, you incorruptible innocent. You’ve just proven that you’re going to help me very, very much.” Neferet lifted her hands, making a sifting movement in the air around her. “As I promised, here he is.”

Jack had no idea who Neferet was talking to, but her words made his skin crawl. Helplessly, he watched her leave the shadows of the tree. She appeared to glide away from him and toward the sidewalk that would take her to the main House of Night building. With an oddly detached observation he realized her movements were more reptile than human.

For an instant he thought she really was leaving—thought he was safe. But when she reached the sidewalk she looked back at him, and she shook her head, laughing softly. “You’ve made this almost too easy for me, boy, with your honorable refusal of my offer.” She made a throwing motion at the sword. Wide-eyed, Jack was sure he saw something black wrap around the hilt. The sword turned, turned, turned, until the upraised point was aimed directly at him.

“There is your sacrifice. He is one I have been unable to taint. Take him, and my debt to your Master has been fulfilled, but wait until the clock chimes twelve. Hold him until then.” Without another look at Jack, Neferet slithered out of his sight and into the building.

It seemed a long time before midnight came, before the school clock began chiming, even though Jack closed his mind to the cold, invisible chains that bound him. He was glad he’d put “Defying Gravity” on a loop. It comforted him to hear Kurt and Rachel singing about overcoming fear.

When the clock began chiming, Jack knew what was going to happen. He knew he couldn’t stop it—knew his fate couldn’t be changed. Instead of pointless struggle, last-minute regrets, useless tears, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then—joyously—joined Rachel and Kurt in the chorus:

I’d sooner buy

Defying gravity

Kiss me goodbye

I’m defying gravity

I think I’ll try

Defying gravity

And you won’t bring me down!

Jack’s sweet tenor was ringing through the branches of the shattered oak when Neferet’s lingering, waiting magic hurled him off the top of the ladder. He fell gruesomely, horribly, onto the waiting claymore, but as the blade pierced his neck, before pain and death and Darkness could touch him, his spirit exploded from his body.

He opened his eyes to find himself standing in an amazing meadow at the base of a tree that looked exactly like the one Kalona had shattered, only this tree was whole and green, and beside it was a woman dressed in glowing silver robes. She was so lovely Jack thought he could stare at her forever.

He knew her instantly. He’d always known her.

“Hello, Nyx,” he said softly.

The Goddess smiled. “Hello, Jack.”

“I’m dead, aren’t I?”

Nyx’s smile didn’t waver. “You are, my wonderful, loving, untaintable child.”

Jack hesitated, then said, “It doesn’t seem so bad, this being dead thing.”

“You’ll find it isn’t.”

“I’ll miss Damien.”

“You’ll be with him again. Some souls find each other again and again. Yours will; you have my oath on it.”

“Did I do okay back there?”

“You were perfect, my son.” Then Nyx, the Goddess of Night, opened her arms and enfolded Jack, and with her touch the last remnants of mortal pain and sadness and loss dissolved from his spirit, leaving love—only and always, love. And Jack knew perfect happiness.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Rephaim

The moment before his father appeared the consistency of the air changed.

He’d known Father had returned from the Otherworld the instant it had happened. How could he not have known it? He’d been with Stevie Rae. She’d felt Zoey become whole again just as the knowledge of his father had come to him.

Stevie Rae … It had been less than a fortnight since he’d been in her presence, spoken with her, touched her, but it seemed that their time together had been an eternity ago.

If Rephaim lived for another century he would not forget what had happened between them just before Father had returned to this realm. The human boy in the fountain had been him. It hadn’t made rational sense, but that didn’t make it any less true. He’d touched Stevie Rae and imagined, for just a heartbeat in time, what could have been.

He could have loved her.

He could have protected her.

He could have chosen Light over Darkness.

But what could have been was not reality—was not to be.

He’d been born of hate and lust, pain and Darkness. He was a monster. Not human. Not immortal. Not beast.

Monster.

Monsters didn’t dream. Monsters didn’t desire anything except blood and destruction. Monsters didn’t—couldn’t—know love or happiness: they weren’t created with that ability.

How then was it possible that he missed her?

Why this terrible hollowness in his soul since Stevie Rae had been gone? Why did he feel only partially alive without her?

And why did he long to be better, stronger, wiser, and good, truly good for her?

Could he be going mad?

Rephaim paced back and forth across the rooftop balcony of the deserted Gilcrease mansion. It was past midnight and the museum grounds were quiet, but since the cleanup after the ice storm had begun in earnest, the place was becoming busier and busier during daylight hours.

I’m going to have to leave and find another place. A safer place. I should leave Tulsa and make a stronghold in the wilderness of this enormous country. He knew that was the wise thing to do, the rational thing to do, but something compelled him to stay.

Rephaim told himself it was simply that he hoped now that his father had returned to this realm, he would also return to Tulsa, and he was waiting here for him to come back—to give him a purpose and a direction. But in the deepest recesses of his heart he knew the truth. He didn’t want to leave this place because Stevie Rae was here, and even though he couldn’t allow himself to contact her, she was still near, reachable, if only he dared.

Then, in the middle of his pacing and his self-recriminations, the air around him became heavy, thick with an immortal power that Rephaim knew as well as his own name. Something tugged within him, as if the power that floated in the night had attached itself to him and was using him as an anchor to pull itself ever nearer.

Rephaim braced himself, physically and mentally, concentrated on the illusive immortal magick, and willingly accepted the connection, not minding that it was painful and draining and filled him with a suffocating wave of claustrophobia.

The night sky above him darkened. The wind increased, battering Rephaim.

The Raven Mocker stood his ground.

When the magnificent winged immortal, his father, Kalona, deposed Warrior of Nyx, swooped down from the heavens and landed before him, Rephaim automatically dropped to his knees, bowing in allegiance.

“I was surprised to feel that you remained here,” Kalona said without giving his son permission to rise. “Why did you not follow me to Italy?”

Head still bowed, Rephaim answered. “I was mortally wounded. I have only just recovered. I thought it wise to await you here.”

“Wounded? Yes, I recall. A gunshot and a fall from the sky. You may rise, Rephaim.”

“Thank you, Father.” Rephaim stood and faced his father, and then was glad his face didn’t betray emotions easily. Kalona looked as if he had been ill! His bronze skin had a sallow tint to it. His unusual amber eyes were shadowed by dark circles. He even looked thin. “Are you well, Father?”

“Of course I am well; I am an immortal!” the winged being snapped. Then he sighed and brushed a hand wearily across his face. “She held me within the earth. I was already wounded, and being trapped by that element made my recovery before my release impossible—and since then it has been slow.”

“So Neferet did entrap you.” Carefully, Rephaim kept his tone neutral.

“She did, but I could not have been so easily imprisoned had Zoey Redbird not attacked my spirit,” he said bitterly.

“Yet the fledgling lives,” Rephaim said.

“She does!” Kalona roared, towering over his son and causing the Raven Mocker to stumble backward. But just as quickly as his rage exploded, it fizzled, leaving the immortal looking tired again. He blew out a long breath, and in a more reasonable voice repeated, “Yes, Zoey does live, though I believe she will be forever changed by her Otherworld experience.” Kalona stared off into the night. “Everyone who spends time in Nyx’s realm is altered by it.”

“So Nyx did allow you to enter the Otherworld?” Rephaim couldn’t stop from asking. He steeled himself for his father’s reprimand, but when Kalona spoke, his voice was surprisingly introspective, almost gentle.

“She did. And I saw her. Once. Briefly. It was because of the Goddess’s intervention that that gods-be-damned Stark is still breathing and walking the earth.”

“Stark followed Zoey to the Otherworld, and he lives?”

“He lives, although he shouldn’t.” As Kalona spoke he absently rubbed a spot on his chest, over his heart. “I suspect those meddling bulls have something to do with his survival.”

“The black and white bulls? Darkness and Light?” Rephaim tasted the bile of fear at the back of his throat as he remembered the slick, eerie coat of the white bull, the unending evil in his eyes, and the white-hot pain the creature had caused him.

“What is it?” Kalona’s perceptive gaze skewered his son. “Why do you look thus?”

“They manifested here, in Tulsa, just over a week ago.”

“What brought them here?”

Rephaim hesitated, his heart beating painfully in his chest. What could he admit? What could he say?

“Rephaim, speak!”

“It was the Red One—the young High Priestess. She invoked the presence of the bulls. It was the white bull who gave her the knowledge that helped Stark find the way to the Otherworld.”

“How do you know this?” Kalona’s voice was like death.

“I witnessed part of the invocation. I was wounded so badly that I did not believe I would recover, that I would ever fly again. When the white bull manifested, it strengthened me and drew me to its circle. That was where I observed the Red One getting her information from it.”

“You were healed, but you didn’t capture the Red One? Didn’t stop her before she could return to the House of Night and aid Stark?”

“I could not stop her. The black bull manifested and Light banished Darkness, protecting the Red One,” he said honestly. “I have been here since, regaining my strength and, when I felt that you had returned to this realm, I have been awaiting you.”

Kalona stared at his son. Rephaim met his gaze steadily.

Kalona nodded slowly. “It is good that you awaited me here. There is much that is left undone in Tulsa. This House of Night will soon belong to the Tsi Sgili.”

“Neferet has returned, too? Is the High Council not holding her?”

Kalona laughed. “The High Council is made up of naïve fools. The Tsi Sgili blamed me for recent events, and has punished me by publically lashing me and then banishing me from her side. The Council has been pacified.”

Shocked, Rephaim shook his head. His father’s tone was light, almost humorous, but his look was black—his body weakened and wounded. “Father, I do not understand. Lashed? You allowed Neferet to—”

With immortal speed, Kalona’s hand was suddenly around his son’s throat. The huge Raven Mocker was lifted off the ground as if he weighed no more than one of his slim, black feathers.

“Do not make the mistake of believing that because I have been wounded I have also become weak.”

“I would not do that.” Rephaim’s voice was little more than a choked hiss.

Their faces were close together. Kalona’s amber eyes blazed with angry heat.

“Father,” Rephaim gasped. “I meant you no disrespect.”

Kalona dropped him, and his son crumpled at his feet. The immortal lifted his head and threw his arms wide as if he would take on the heavens. “She still imprisons me!” he shouted.

Rephaim drew in air and rubbed his throat, then his father’s words penetrated the confusion in his mind and he looked up at him. The immortal’s face was twisted as if in agony—his eyes were haunted. Rephaim slowly got to his feet, and approached him carefully. “What has she done?”

Kalona’s arms fell to his sides, but his face remained open to the sky. “I pledged to her my oath that I would destroy Zoey Redbird. The fledgling lives. I broke my oath.”

Rephaim’s blood felt cold. “The oathbreaking held a penalty.”

He didn’t phrase it as a question, but Kalona nodded. “It did.”

“What is it you owe Neferet?”

“She holds dominion over my spirit for as long as I am immortal.”

“By all the gods and goddesses, we are both lost then!” Rephaim couldn’t stop the escaping words.

Kalona turned to him and his son saw that a sly glint had replaced the rage in his eyes. “Neferet has been immortal for less than a breath of this world’s time. I have been so for uncountable eons. If there is one lesson I have learned over several lifetimes, it is that there is nothing that is unbreakable. Nothing. Not the strongest heart, not the purest soul—not even the most binding of oaths.”

“You know how to break her dominion over you?”

“No, but I do know that if I give her what she most desires, she will be distracted while I discover how to break the oath I made her.”

“Father,” Rephaim said hesitantly, “there are always consequences for an oathbreaking. Will you not simply incur another if you break this second oath?”

“I cannot think of a consequence I would not gladly pay to rid myself of Neferet’s domination.”

The cold, deadly anger in Kalona’s voice caused Rephaim’s throat to go dry. He knew when his father got like this, the only thing he could do was to agree with him, to aid him in whatever he sought, to ride the storm silently, mindlessly, at Kalona’s side. He was used to Kalona’s volatile emotions.

What Rephaim was not used to was feeling resentful of them.

Rephaim could sense the immortal’s gaze studying him. The Raven Mocker cleared his throat and said what he knew his father expected to hear. “What is it that Neferet most desires and how do we give it to her?”

Kalona’s expression relaxed a little. “The Tsi Sgili most desires lording power over humans. We give it to her by helping her begin a war between vampyres and humans. She means to use the war as an excuse for the destruction of the High Council. With them gone, vampyre society will be in disarray and Neferet, using the title of Nyx Incarnate, will rule.”

“But vampyres have become too rational, too civilized, to war with humans. I think they would withdraw from society before they would fight.”

“True enough for most vampyres, but you’re forgetting the new breed of bloodsucker the Tsi Sgili created. They do not seem to have the same scruples.”

“The red fledglings,” Rephaim said.

“Ah, but they aren’t all fledglings, are they? I hear another of the boys has Changed. And then there is the new High Priestess, the Red One. I am not so sure she is as dedicated to Light as is her friend Zoey.”

Rephaim felt like a giant fist was closing around his heart. “The Red One evoked the black bull—the manifestation of Light. I do not think she can be swayed from the Goddess’s path.”

“You said she also conjured the bull of Darkness, did you not?”

“I did, but from what I observed she did not call upon Darkness intentionally.”

Kalona laughed. “Neferet has told me that Stevie Rae was quite different when she first was resurrected. The Red One reveled in Darkness!”

“And then she Changed, like Stark. They’re both committed to Nyx now.”

“No, what Stark is committed to is Zoey Redbird. I do not believe the Red One has formed any such attachment.”

Carefully, Rephaim remained silent.

“The more I think on it, the more I like the idea. Neferet gains power if we use the Red One, and Zoey loses someone close to her. Yes, that pleases me. Very much.”

Rephaim was trying to sift through the mixture of panic and fear and chaos in his mind and conjure a response that might distract Kalona from his pursuit of Stevie Rae when the air around them rippled and changed. Shadows within shadows appeared to quiver briefly but ecstatically. His questioning eyes went from the Darkness lurking in the corners of the rooftop, to his father.

Kalona nodded and smiled grimly. “The Tsi Sgili has paid her debt to Darkness; she has sacrificed the life of an innocent who could not be tainted.”

Rephaim’s blood pounded in his ears, and for an instant he was savagely, incredibly afraid for Stevie Rae. And then he realized No, it could not be Stevie Rae Neferet has sacrificed. Stevie Rae has been tainted by Darkness. For now, from this one threat, she is safe.

“Who is it Neferet has killed?” Rephaim was so distracted by relief, he spoke the words without thinking.

“What possible difference could it make to you who the Tsi Sgili sacrificed?”

Rephaim’s mind refocused on the here and now swiftly. “I am simply curious.”

“I feel a change in you, my son.”

Rephaim met his father’s gaze steadily. “I came close to death, Father. It was a sobering experience. You must remember that I only share a measure of your immortality. The rest of me is human and, therefore, mortal.”

Kalona nodded briefly in acknowledgment. “I do forget that you are weakened by the humanity within you.”

“Mortality, not humanity. I am not humane,” he said bitterly.

Kalona studied him. “How did you manage to survive your wounds?”

Rephaim looked away from his father and answered as truthfully as possible. “I am not entirely sure how or even why I survived.” I will never understand why Stevie Rae saved me, his mind added silently. “Much of that time remains a blur for me.”

“The how is not important. The why is obvious—you survived to serve me, as you have done your entire life.”

“Yes, Father,” he said automatically. Then, to cover the hopelessness even he could hear in his voice, he added, “And in serving you I must tell you that you and I cannot remain here.”

Kalona raised his brow questioningly. “What is it you are saying?”

“This place,” his arm swept around them to take in Gilcrease grounds. “There are too many humans present since the ice has gone. We cannot stay here.” Rephaim drew a deep breath and continued. “Perhaps it would be wisest for you and me to leave Tulsa for a time.”

“Of course we cannot leave Tulsa. I have already explained to you that I must distract the Tsi Sgili so that I can free myself from her bondage. That is best done here, using the Red One and her fledglings. But you are correct to note that this place is not adequate for us.”

“Then would it not behoove us to leave the city until we can discover a better location?”

“Why do you continue this insistence that we depart here when I have made it clear to you that we must remain?”

Rephaim drew a deep breath and said only, “I grow weary of the city.”

“Then draw on the reserves of strength you have within you as legacy from my blood!” Kalona commanded, clearly annoyed. “We remain in Tulsa for as long as it takes to achieve my objective. Neferet has already considered where I should stay. She demands that I am close, but she knows I must not be seen, at least not right away.” Kalona paused, grimacing in obvious anger at being so thoroughly controlled by the Tsi Sgili. “We will move, tonight, to the building Neferet has acquired. Soon we will begin hunting the red fledglings, and their High Priestess.” Kalona’s gaze shifted to his son’s wings. “You are able to fly again, are you not?”

“I am, Father.”

“Then, enough of this useless talk. Let us take to the sky and begin climbing toward our future, and our freedom.”

The immortal spread his massive wings and leaped from the roof of the deserted Gilcrease Manor. Rephaim hesitated, trying to think—to breathe—to understand what he was going to do. From the corner of the rooftop an image flickered and the little blond spirit that had been haunting him since he’d arrived, broken and bleeding, manifested.

“You can’t let your father hurt her. You know that, right?”

“For the last time, begone, apparition,” Rephaim said as he unfurled his wings and prepared to follow his father.

“You have to help Stevie Rae.”

Rephaim rounded on her. “Why do I have to? I’m a monster—she can be nothing to me.”

The child smiled. “Too late, she already means something to you. Plus there’s another reason you have to help her.”

“Why?” Rephaim asked wearily.

“Because you’re not all monster. You’re part boy and that means someday you’ll die. When you die, there’s only one thing you take with you into forever.”

“And what is that?”

Her grin was radiant. “Love, silly! You get to take love with you. So you see, you have to save her or you’ll regret it forever and ever.”

Rephaim stared at the girl. “Thank you,” he said softly just before he vaulted into darkness.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Stevie Rae

“I think y’all should give Zoey a break. After what she’s been through she could use a vacation,” Stevie Rae said.

“If that’s all it is,” Erik said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Word is she isn’t planning on coming back. At all.”

“That’s just plain silly.”

“Have you talked to her?” Erik asked.

“No, have you?” she countered.

“No.”

“Actually, Erik brings up a valid point,” Lenobia said. “No one has talked with Zoey. Jack said that she’s not returning. I’ve spoken with Aphrodite. She and Darius are, indeed, arriving soon. Zoey is not making or taking calls.”

“Zoey is tired. Stark is still messed up. Isn’t that what Jack reported?” Stevie Rae said.

“Yes,” Dragon Lankford said. “But the truth is, we have barely spoken to Zoey since her return from the Otherworld.”

“Okay, seriously, why is this such a big deal? You’re acting like Z is some truant bad kid, and not a kick-ass High Priestess.”

“Well, for one thing, it concerns us because she does have so much power. With power comes responsibility. You know that,” Lenobia said. “And then there is the issue of Neferet and Kalona.”

“Here I must speak,” Professor Penthasilea said. “I am not the only one of us to have received the High Council’s most recent message. There is no Neferet and Kalona. Neferet has broken with her Consort since his spirit returned to his body and he regained consciousness. Neferet had him publically lashed, and then banished from her side, and from vampyre society for one century. Neferet spearheaded his punishment for the crime of killing the human boy. The High Council ruled that Kalona, and not Neferet, was responsible for the crime.”

“Yes, we know that, but—,” Lenobia began.

“What are y’all talkin’ about?” Stevie Rae interrupted, feeling like her head was going to explode.

“Looks like we ain’t on the email list,” Kramisha said, looking every bit as freaked out as Stevie Rae.

As the clock outside began to chime midnight, Neferet stepped from within the hidden door that was the High Priestess’s entrance to the Tulsa Council Chamber. She moved with purpose to the huge round table. Her voice was whip-like and full of confidence and command.

“I see I have returned none too soon. Would someone please explain to me why we have begun allowing fledglings access to our Council Meetings?”

“Kramisha is more than just a fledgling. She’s a Poet Laureate and a Prophetess. Add to that the fact that I’m a High Priestess and I’ve invited her—all that gives her the right to be in this Council Meeting.” Stevie Rae swallowed the sick fear that came with confronting Neferet and was incredibly relieved that her voice sounded steady when she finally freed the words from the back of her throat. “And why aren’t you in jail for Heath’s murder?”

“Jail?” Neferet’s laughter was cruel. “What impudence! I am a High Priestess, one who has earned that title and not simply been given it by default.”

“And yet you avoid the question of your culpability in the human’s murder,” Dragon said. “I, too, did not receive communication from the Vampyre High Council. I would like an explanation of your presence, and why you were not held responsible for the behavior of your Consort.”

Stevie Rae expected Neferet to explode at Dragon’s questioning, but instead her expression softened and her green eyes filled with pity. Neferet’s voice was warm and understanding when she answered the Sword Master. “I imagine the High Council is holding your communication because they are cognizant that you are still grieving deeply for your lost mate.”

Dragon’s face paled, but his blue eyes hardened. “I did not lose Anastasia. She was taken from me. Murdered by a creature who was the creation of your Consort, acting under his command.”

“I understand how your grief can taint judgment, but you need to know that Rephaim and the other Raven Mockers were not under orders to harm anyone. On the contrary, they were commanded to protect. When Zoey and her friends set the House of Night afire and stole our horses, they took that as an attack. They simply reacted.”

Stevie Rae and Lenobia shared a quick look that telegraphed don’t let them know who was in on what, and Stevie Rae kept her mouth shut, refusing to give up Lenobia’s part in Zoey’s “escape.”

“They killed my mate,” Dragon said, pulling everyone’s attention to him.

“And for that I will be eternally sorry,” Neferet said. “Anastasia was a good friend to me.”

“You chased Zoey and Darius and the rest of the gang,” Stevie Rae said. “You threatened us. You commanded Stark to shoot Zoey. How do you excuse all of that?”

Neferet’s beautiful face seemed to crumple. She leaned on the table, and sobbed softly. “I know … I know. I was weak. I let the winged immortal taint my mind. He said Zoey had to be destroyed, and because I believed he was Erebus Incarnate, I also believed him.”

“Oh, that’s just a bunch of bull,” Stevie Rae said.

Neferet’s emerald eyes skewered her. “Have you never cared for someone, only to find out later that he was truly a monster in disguise?”

Stevie Rae felt all the blood drain from her face. She answered the only way she knew how—with the truth. “In my life, monsters don’t disguise themselves.”

“You did not answer my question, young Priestess.”

Stevie Rae lifted her chin. “I’ll answer your question. No, I’ve never cared for someone and not known what he was from the beginning. And if you’re talkin’ ’bout Dallas, I knew he might have issues, but I never expected him to turn to Darkness and go all crazy.”

Neferet’s smile was sly. “Yes, I heard about Dallas. So sad … so sad.”

“Neferet, I still need to understand the ruling of the High Council. As Sword Master and Leader of the Sons of Erebus at this House of Night, I am entitled to be kept informed regarding anything that might compromise the security of our school, whether I am in mourning or not,” Dragon said, looking pale but determined.