Marked

Book Jacket

Series: House of Night [1]

Rating:

SUMMARY: The House of Night series is set in a world very much like our own, except in 16-year-old Zoey Redbird's world, vampyres have always existed. In this first book in the series, Zoey enters the House of Night, a school where, after having undergone the Change, she will train to become an adult vampire--that is, if she makes it through the Change. Not all of those who are chosen do. It's tough to begin a new life, away from her parents and friends, and on top of that, Zoey finds she is no average fledgling. She has been Marked as special by the vampyre Goddess, Nyx. But she is not the only fledgling at the House of Night with special powers. When she discovers that the leader of the Dark Daughters, the school's most elite club, is misusing her Goddess-given gifts, Zoey must look deep within herself for the courage to embrace her destiny--with a little help from her new vampyre friends. P.C. Cast is an award-winning fantasy and paranormal romance author, as well as an experienced speaker and teacher. Her novels have been awarded the prestigious Prism, Daphne du Maurier, Affaire du Coeur, and other awards. She lives and teaches in Oklahoma. Kristin Cast has won awards for her poetry and journalism. She attends Northeastern State University, where she is working toward fulfilling her goal of becoming a biology teacher. The House of Night series is set in a world very much like our own, except in 16-year-old Zoey Redbird's world, vampyres have always existed. In this first book in the series, Zoey enters the House of Night, a school where, after having undergone the Change, she will train to become an adult vampire--that is, if she makes it through the Change. Not all of those who are chosen do. It's tough to begin a new life, away from her parents and friends, and on top of that, Zoey finds she is no average fledgling. She has been Marked as special by the vampyre Goddess, Nyx. But she is not the only fledgling at the House of Night with special powers. When she discovers that the leader of the Dark Daughters, the school's most elite club, is misusing her Goddess-given gifts, Zoey must look deep within herself for the courage to embrace her destiny--with a little help from her new vampyre friends. ""Marked" is one of the best coming of age stories to come out of Oklahoma since S. E. Hinton's "The Outsiders." It teaches about the beauty of being a social outcast, friendship, and finding your own inner spirituality."--"The Beltane Papers ""From the moment I stuck my face in this book it hooked me! Totally awesome new take on vampires! "Marked "is hot and dark and funny. It rocks!"--Gena Showalter, author of MTV's "Oh My Goth" "Cast reeled me in from paragraph one. I snorted and giggled through the whole thing, and devoured it in one sitting."--MaryJanice Davidson, "New York"" Times" best-selling author of the "Undead" series "In 16-year-old Zoey Redbird's world, vampyres not only exist but are also tolerated by humans. Those whom the creatures 'mark' as special enter the House of Night school where they will either become vampyres themselves, or, if their body rejects the change, die. To Zoey, being marked is truly a blessing, though she's scared at first. She has never fit into the human world and has always felt she is destined for something else. Her grandmother, a descendant of the Cherokee, has always supported her emotionally, and it is she who takes the girl to her new school. But even there the teen stands apart from the others. Her mark from the Goddess Nyx is a special one, showing that her powers are very strong for one so young. At the House of Night, Zoey finds true friendship, loyalty, and romance as well as mistrust and deception. She realizes that all is not right in the vampyre world and that the problems she thought she left behind exist there as well. Readers will identify with many of the characters, especially the protagonist. The story moves quickly (a little too quickly at the end) and purposely leaves many unresolved issues. A good choice for those libraries serving fans of the occult, but be aware that the book contains some suggestive language and sex."--Donna Rosenblum, "School Library Journal"

Marked

A House of Night Novel (Book 1)

by PC Cast and Kristin Cast

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

For our wonderful agent, Meredith Bernstein, who

said the three magic words: vampyre finishing school. We

heart you!

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to thank a wonderful student of mine,

John Maslin, for research help and for reading and giving

feedback on many early versions of the book. His input was

invaluable.

A big THANKS GUYS goes out to my Creative

Writing classes in the school year 2005-2006. Your

brainstorming was lots of help (and quite amusing).

I also want to thank my fabulous daughter, Kristin,

for making sure we sound like teenagers. I couldn't have

done it without you. (She made me write that.) —PC

I want to thank my lovely "mam," better known as

PC, for being such an unbelievably talented author and so

easy to work with. (Okay, she made me write that.) —

Kristin

PC and Kristin would both like to thank their

dad/grandpa, Dick Cast, for the biological hypothesis he

helped create as the basis for the House of Night's

vampyres. We love you Dad/G-pa!

From Hesiod's poem to Nyx, the Greek

personification of night:

"There also stands the gloomy house of Night;

ghastly clouds shroud it in darkness.

Before it Atlas stands erect and on his head

and unwearying arms firmly supports the broad sky,

where Night and Day cross a bronze threshold

and then come close and greet each other."

(Hesiod, Theogony, 744 ff. )

CHAPTER ONE

Just when I thought my day couldn't get any worse I

saw the dead guy standing next to my locker. Kayla was

talking nonstop in her usual K-babble, and she didn't even

notice him. At first. Actually, now that I think about it, no

one else noticed him until he spoke, which is, tragically,

more evidence of my freakish inability to fit in.

"No, but Zoey, I swear to God Heath didn't get that

drunk after the game. You really shouldn't be so hard on

him.”

"Yeah," I said absently. "Sure." Then I coughed.

Again. I felt like crap. I must be coming down with what

Mr. Wise, my more-than-slightly-insane AP biology teacher,

called the Teenage Plague.

If I died, would it get me out of my geometry test

tomorrow? One could only hope.

"Zoey, please. Are you even listening? I think he

only had like four—I dunno—maybe six beers, and maybe

like three shots. But that's totally beside the point. He

probably wouldn't even have had hardly any if your stupid

parents hadn't made you go home right after the game.”

We shared a long-suffering look, in total agreement

about the latest injustice committed against me by my mom

and the Step-Loser she'd married three really long years

ago. Then, after barely half a breath break, K was back with

the babbling.

"Plus, he was celebrating. I mean we beat Union!" K

shook my shoulder and put her face close to mine. "Hello!

Your boyfriend—”

"My almost-boyfriend," I corrected her, trying my

best not to cough on her.

"Whatever. Heath is our quarterback so of course

he's going to celebrate. It's been like a million years since

Broken Arrow beat Union.”

"Sixteen." I'm crappy at math, but K's math

impairment makes me look like a genius.

"Again, whatever. The point is, he was happy. You

should give the boy a break.”

"The point is that he was wasted for like the fifth

time this week. I'm sorry, but I don't want to go out with a

guy whose main focus in life has changed from trying to

play college football to trying to chug a six-pack without

puking. Not to mention the fact that he's going to get fat

from all that beer.” I had to pause to cough. I was feeling a

little dizzy and forced myself to take slow, deep breaths

when the coughing fit was over. Not that K-babble noticed.

"Eww! Heath, fat! Not a visual I want.”

I managed to ignore another urge to cough. "And

kissing him is like sucking on alcohol-soaked feet.”

K scrunched up her face. "Okay, sick. Too bad he's

so hot.”

I rolled my eyes, not bothering to try to hide my

annoyance at her typical shallowness.

"You're so grumpy when you're sick. Anyway, you

have no idea how lost-puppy-like Heath looked after you

ignored him at lunch. He couldn't even…?”

Then I saw him. The dead guy. Okay, I realized

pretty quick that he wasn't technically "dead.” He was

undead. Or un-human. Whatever. Scientists said one thing,

people said another, but the end result was the same. There

was no mistaking what he was and even if I hadn't felt

the power and darkness that radiated from him,

there was no frickin' way I could miss his Mark,

the sapphire-blue crescent moon on his

forehead and the additional tattooing of

entwining knot work that framed his equally

blue eyes. He was a vampyre, and worse. He

was a Tracker.

Well, crap! He was standing by my locker.

"Zoey, you're so not listening to me!”

Then the vampyre spoke and his

ceremonial words slicked across the space

between us, dangerous and seductive, like

blood mixed with melted chocolate.

"Zoey Montgomery! Night has chosen

thee; thy death will be thy birth. Night calls to

thee; hearken to Her sweet voice. Your destiny

awaits you at the House of Night!”

He lifted one long, white finger and pointed at me.

As my forehead exploded in pain Kayla opened her mouth

and screamed.

When the bright splotches finally cleared from my

eyes I looked up to see K's colorless face staring down at

me.

As usual, I said the first ridiculous thing that came

to mind. "K, your eyes are popping out of your head like a

fish.” "He Marked you. Oh, Zoey! You have the

outline of that thing on your forehead!" Then

she pressed a shaking hand against her white

lips, unsuccessfully trying to hold back a sob.

I sat up and coughed. I had a killer

headache, and I rubbed at the spot right

between my eyebrows. It stung as if a wasp

had bit me and radiated pain down around my

eyes, all the way across my cheekbones. I felt

like I might puke.

"Zoey!" K was really crying now and had

to speak between wet little hiccups. "Oh. My.

God. That guy was a Tracker—a vampyre

Tracker!”

"K." I blinked hard, trying to clear the pain from my

head.

"Stop crying. You know I hate it when you cry." I

reached out to attempt a comforting pat on her shoulders.

And she automatically cringed, and moved away

from me.

I couldn't believe it. She actually cringed, like she

was afraid of me. She must have seen the hurt in my eyes

because she instantly started a string of breathless K-babble.

"Oh, God, Zoey! What are you going to do? You

can't go to that place. You can't be one of those things. This

can't be happening! Who am I supposed to go to all of our

football games with?”

I noticed that all during her tirade she didn't once

move any closer to me. I clamped down on the sick, hurt

feeling inside that threatened to make me burst into tears.

My eyes dried instantly. I was good at hiding tears. I should

be; I'd had three years to get good at it.

"It's okay. I'll figure this out. It's probably some…

some bizarre mistake," I lied.

I wasn't really talking; I was just making words

come out of my mouth. Still grimacing at the pain in my

head, I stood up. Looking around I felt a small measure of

relief that K and I were the only ones in the math hall, and

then I had to choke back what I knew was hysterical

laughter. Had I not been totally psycho about the geometry

test from hell scheduled for tomorrow, and had run back to

my locker to get my book so I could attempt to obsessively

(and pointlessly) study tonight, the Tracker would have

found me standing outside in front of the school with the

majority of the 1,300 kids who went to Broken Arrow's

South Intermediate High School waiting for what my stupid

Barbie-clone sister liked to smugly call "the big yellow

limos.” I have a car, but standing around with the less

fortunate who have to ride the buses is a time-honored

tradition, not to mention an excellent way to check out

who's hitting on who. As it was, there was only one other

kid in the math hall—a tall thin dork with messed-up teeth,

which I could, unfortunately, see too much of because he

was standing there with his mouth flapping open staring at

me like I'd just given birth to a litter of flying pigs.

I coughed again, this time a really wet,

disgusting cough. The dork made a squeaky

little sound and scuttled down the hall to Mrs.

Day's room clutching a flat board to his bony

chest. Guess the chess club had changed its

meeting time to Mondays after school.

Do vampyres play chess? Were there

vampyre dorks? How about Barbie-like vampyre

cheerleaders? Did any vampyres play in the

band? Were there vampyre Emos with their

guy-wearing-girl's-pants weirdness and those

awful bangs that cover half their faces? Or were

they all those freaky Goth kids who didn't like

to bathe much? Was I going to turn into a Goth

kid? Or worse, an Emo? I didn't particularly like

wearing black, at least not exclusively, and I

wasn't feeling a sudden and unfortunate

aversion to soap and water, nor did I have an

obsessive desire to change my hairstyle and

wear too much eyeliner.

All this whirled through my mind while I

felt another little hysterical bubble of laughter

try to escape from my throat, and was almost

thankful when it came out as a cough instead.

"Zoey? Are you okay?" Kayla's voice

sounded too high, like someone was pinching

her, and she'd taken another step away from

me.

I sighed and felt my first sliver of anger. It

wasn't like I'd asked for this. K and I had been

best friends since third grade, and now she was

looking at me like I had turned into a monster.

"Kayla, it's just me. The same me I was

two seconds ago and two hours ago and two

days ago.” I made a frustrated gesture toward

my throbbing head. "This doesn't change who I

am!”

K's eyes teared up again, but, thankfully,

her cell phone started singing Madonna's

"Material Girl.” Automatically, she glanced at

the caller ID. I could tell by her rabbit-in-the-headlights

expression that it was her boyfriend, Jared.

"Go on," I said in a flat, tired voice. "Ride home

with him." Her look of relief was like a slap in my face.

"Call me later?" she threw over her shoulder as she

beat a hasty retreat out the side door.

I watched her rush across the east lawn to the

parking lot. I could see that she had her cell phone smashed

to her ear and was talking in animated little bursts to Jared.

I'm sure she was already telling him I was turning into a

monster.

The problem, of course, was that turning into a

monster was the brighter of my two choices. Choice

Number 1: I turn into a vampyre, which equals a monster in

just about any human's mind. Choice Number 2: My body

rejects the Change and I die. Forever.

So the good news is that I wouldn't have to take the

geometry test tomorrow.

The bad news was that I'd have to move into the

House of Night, a private boarding school in Tulsa's

Midtown, known by all my friends as the Vampyre

Finishing School, where I would spend the next four years

going through bizarre and unnameable physical changes, as

well as a total and permanent life shake-up. And that's only

if the whole process didn't kill me.

Great. I didn't want to do either. I just wanted to

attempt to be normal, despite the burden of my megaconservative parents, my troll-like younger brother, and my

oh-so-perfect older sister. I wanted to pass geometry. I

wanted to keep my grades up so that I could get accepted

into the veterinary college at OSU and get out of Broken

Arrow, Oklahoma. But most of all, I wanted to fit in—at

least at school. Home had become hopeless, so all I was left

with were my friends and my life away from my family.

Now that was being taken away from me, too.

I rubbed my forehead and then messed with my hair

until it semi-covered my eyes, and, with any luck, the mark

that had appeared above them. Keeping my head ducked

down, like I was fascinated with the goo that had somehow

formed in my purse, I hurried toward the door that led to the

student parking lot.

But I stopped short of going outside. Through the

side-by-side windows in the institutional-looking doors I

could see Heath. Girls flocked around him, posing and

flipping their hair, while guys revved ridiculously big

pickup trucks and tried (but mostly failed) to look cool.

Doesn't it figure that I would choose that to be attracted to?

No, to be fair to myself I should remember that Heath used

to be incredibly sweet, and even now he had his moments.

Mostly when he bothered to be sober.

High-pitched girl giggles flitted to me from the

parking lot. Great. Kathy Richter, the biggest ho in school,

was pretending to smack Heath. Even from where I was

standing it was obvious she thought hitting him was some

kind of mating ritual. As usual, clueless Heath was just

standing there grinning. Well, hell, my day just wasn't going

to get any better. And there sat my robin's egg—blue 1966

VW Bug right in the middle of them. No. I couldn't go out

there. I couldn't walk into the middle of all of them with this

thing on my forehead. I'd never be able to be part of them

again. I already knew too well what they'd do. I

remembered the last kid a Tracker had Chosen at SIHS.

It happened at the beginning of the school year last

year. The Tracker had come before school started and had

targeted the kid as he was walking to his first hour. I didn't

see the Tracker, but I did see the kid afterward, for just a

second, after he dropped his books and ran out of the

building, his new Mark glowing on his pale forehead and

tears washing down his too white cheeks. I never forgot

how crowded the halls had been that morning, and how

everyone had backed away from him like he had the plague

as he rushed to escape out the front doors of the school. I

had been one of those kids who had backed out of his way

and stared, even though I'd felt really sorry for him. I just

hadn't wanted to be labeled as that-one-girl-who's-friendswith-those-freaks. Sort of ironic now, isn't it?

Instead of going to my car I headed for the nearest

restroom, which was, thankfully, empty. There were three

stalls—yes, I double-checked each for feet. On one wall

were two sinks, over which hung two medium-sized

mirrors. Across from the sinks the opposite wall was

covered with a huge mirror that had a ledge below it for

holding brushes and makeup and whatnot. I put my purse

and my geometry book on the ledge, took a deep breath,

and in one motion lifted my head and brushed back my hair.

It was like staring into the face of a familiar

stranger. You know, that person you see in a crowd and

swear you know, but you really don't? Now she was me—

the familiar stranger.

She had my eyes. They were the same hazel color

that could never decide whether it wanted to be green or

brown, but my eyes had never been that big and round. Or

had they? She had my hair—long and straight and almost as

dark as my grandma's had been before hers had begun to

turn silver. The stranger had my high cheekbones, long,

strong nose, and wide mouth—more features from my

grandma and her Cherokee ancestors. But my face had

never been that pale. I'd always been olive-ish, much darker

skinned than anyone else in my family. But maybe it wasn't

that my skin was suddenly so white…maybe it just looked

pale in comparison to the dark blue outline of the crescent

moon that was perfectly positioned in the middle of my

forehead. Or maybe it was the horrid fluorescent lighting. I

hoped it was the lighting.

I stared at the exotic-looking tattoo. Mixed with my

strong Cherokee features it seemed to brand me with a mark

of wildness…as if I belonged to ancient times when the

world was bigger…more barbaric.

From this day on my life would never be the same.

And for a moment—just an instant—I forgot about the

horror of not belonging and felt a shocking burst of

pleasure, while deep inside of me the blood of my

grandmother's people rejoiced.

CHAPTER TWO

When I figured that enough time had passed for

everyone to have left school, I flopped my hair back over

my forehead and left the bathroom, hurrying to the doors

that led to the student parking lot. Everything seemed all

clear—there was just some random kid wearing those

seriously unattractive gang wanna-be baggy pants cutting

across the far end of the lot. Keeping his pants from falling

down as he walked was taking all his concentration; he

wouldn't even notice me. I gritted my teeth against the

throbbing pain in my head and bolted out the door, heading

straight for my little Bug.

The moment I stepped outside the sun began to

batter me. I mean, it wasn't a particularly sunny day; there

were plenty of those big, puffy clouds that looked so pretty

in pictures floating around the sky, semi-blocking the sun.

But that didn't matter. I had to squint my eyes painfully and

hold my hand up as a make-believe sun block against even

that intermittent light. I guess it was because I was focusing

so hard on the pain the ordinary sunlight was causing me

that I didn't notice the truck until it squealed to a stop in

front of me.

"Hey Zo! Didn't you get my message?”

Oh crap crap crap! It was Heath. I glanced up,

looking at him from between my fingers like I was

watching one of those stupid slasher movies. He was sitting

on the open tailgate of his friend Dustin's pickup truck.

Over his shoulder I could see into the cab of the truck

where Dustin and his brother, Drew, were doing what they

were usually doing—wrestling around and arguing over

God only knows what stupid boy thing. Thankfully, they

were ignoring me. I glanced back at Heath and sighed. He

had a beer in his hand and a goofy grin on his face.

Momentarily forgetting that I'd just been Marked and was

destined to become an outcast blood-sucking monster, I

scowled at Heath.

"You're drinking at school! Are you crazy?”

His little boy grin got bigger. "Yes I am crazy, 'bout

you, baby!”

I shook my head while I turned my back to him,

opening the creaky door to my Bug and shoving my books

and backpack into the passenger's seat.

"Why aren't you guys at football practice?" I said,

still keeping my face angled away from him.

"Didn't you hear? We got the day off 'cause of the

ass-kicking we gave Union on Friday!”

Dustin and Drew, who must have been kinda paying

attention to Heath and me after all, did a couple of very

Okie "Whoo-hoo!" and "Yeah!" yells from inside the truck.

"Oh. Uh. No. I musta missed the announcement. I've

been busy today. You know, big geometry test tomorrow.” I

tried to sound normal and nonchalant. Then I coughed and

added, "Plus, I'm getting a crappy cold.”

"Zo, really. Are you pissed or somethin'? Like, did

Kayla say some shit about the party? You know I didn't

really cheat on you.”

Huh? Kayla had not said one solitary word about

Heath cheating on me. Like a moron, I forgot (okay,

temporarily) about my new Mark. My head snapped around

so I could glare at him.

"What did you do, Heath?”

"Zo, me? You know I wouldn't…" but his innocent

act and his excuses faded into an unattractive open-mouthed

look of shock when he caught sight of my Mark. "What the

—" he started to say, but I cut him off.

"Shh!" I jerked my head in the direction of the still

clueless Dustin and Drew, who were now singing at the top

of their totally tone-deaf lungs to the latest Toby Keith CD.

Heath's eyes were still wide and shocked, but he

lowered his voice. "Is that some kinda makeup thing you're

doing for drama class?”

"No," I whispered. "It's not.”

"But you can't be Marked. We're going out.”

"We are not going out!" And just like that my semireprieve from coughing ended. I practically doubled over,

hacking a seriously nasty, phlegmy cough.

"Hey, Zo!" Dustin called from the cab. "You gotta

lay off those cigarettes.”

"Yeah, you sound like you're gonna cough up a lung

or some-thin'," Drew said.

"Dude! Leave her alone. You know she don't smoke.

She's a vampyre.”

Great. Wonderful. Heath, with his usual total and

complete lack of anything resembling good sense, thought

he was actually standing up for me as he yelled at his

friends, who instantly stuck their heads out of the open

windows and gawked at me like I was a science experiment.

"Well, shit. Zoey's a fucking freak!" Drew said.

Drew's insensitive words made the anger that had

been simmering somewhere inside my chest ever since

Kayla had cringed from me bubble up and boil over.

Ignoring the pain the sun caused me, I stared straight at

Drew, meeting his eyes.

"Shut the hell up! I've had a really bad day and I do

not need this crap from you.” I paused to look from the now

wide-eyed and silent Drew to Dustin and added, "Or you."

And as I kept eye contact with Dustin I realized something

—something that shocked and weirdly excited me: Dustin

looked scared. Really scared. I glared back at Drew. He

looked scared, too. Then I felt it. A tingling sensation that

crawled over my skin and made my new Mark burn.

Power. I felt power.

"Zo? What the fuck?" Heath's voice broke my

attention and pulled my gaze from the brothers.

"We're outta here!" Dustin said, throwing the truck

into gear and stepping on the gas. The pickup lurched

forward, causing Heath to lose his balance and slide, with a

windmill of arms and flying beer, onto the blacktop of the

parking lot.

Automatically, I rushed forward. "Are you okay?"

Heath was on his hands and knees, and I bent down to help

pull him to his feet.

Then I smelled it. Something smelled amazing—hot

and sweet and delicious.

Was Heath wearing new cologne? One of those

weird pheromone things that are supposed to attract women

like a big genetically engineered bug zapper? I didn't realize

how close I was to him until he stood up straight and our

bodies were almost pressed together. He looked down at

me, a question in his eyes.

I didn't back away from him. I should have. I would

have before…but not now. Not today.

"Zo?" he said softly, his voice deep and husky.

"You smell really good," I couldn't stop myself from

saying. My heart was pounding so loud that I could hear its

echo in my throbbing temples.

"Zoey, I've really missed you. We need to get back

together. You know I really love you." He reached up to

touch my face and both of us noticed the blood that smeared

the palm of his hand. "Ah, shit. I guess I—" his voice

closed off when he glanced at my face. I could only imagine

what I must look like, with my face all white, my new Mark

blazingly outlined in sapphire blue, and my eyes staring at

the blood on his hand. I couldn't move; I couldn't look

away.

"I want…I whispered. "I want…" What did I want?

I couldn't put it into words. No, that wasn't it. I wouldn't put

it into words. Wouldn't say aloud the overwhelming surge

of white-hot desire that was trying to drown me. And it

wasn't because Heath was standing so near. He'd been close

to me before. Hell, we'd been making out for a year, but

he'd never made me feel like this—nothing ever like this. I

bit my lip and moaned.

The pickup truck squealed to a halt, fishtailing

beside us. Drew jumped out and grabbed Heath around the

waist, and jerked him backward into the cab of the truck.

"Knock it off! I'm talking to Zoey!”

Heath tried to struggle against Drew, but the kid was

Broken Arrow's senior linebacker, and truly ginormous.

Dustin reached around them and slammed the door to the

truck.

"Leave him alone, you freak!" Drew yelled at me as

Dustin floored the truck and this time they really did speed

off.

I got into my Bug. My hands were shaking so hard I

had to try three times before I got the engine started.

"Just get home. Just get home.” I said the words

over and over between wrenching coughs as I drove. I

wouldn't think about what had just happened. I couldn't

think about what had just happened.

The drive home took fifteen minutes, but it seemed

to pass in the blink of an eye. Too soon I was sitting in the

driveway, trying to get ready for the scene I knew, sure as

lightning follows thunder, was waiting inside for me.

Why had I been so eager to get here? I suppose I

hadn't technically been all that eager. I suppose I'd just been

escaping from what had happened in the parking lot with

Heath.

No! I wasn't going to think about that now. And,

anyway, there was probably some kind of rational

explanation for everything, a rational and simple

explanation. Dustin and Drew were retards— totally

immature beer-brains. I hadn't used a creepy new power to

intimidate them. They'd just been freaked that I'd been

Marked. That was it. I mean, people were scared of

vampyres.

"But I'm not a vampyre!" I said. Then I coughed

while I remember how hypnotically beautiful Heath's blood

had been, and the rush of desire I'd felt for it. Not Heath,

but Heath's blood.

No! No! No! Blood was not beautiful or desirable. I

must be in shock. That's it. That had to be it. I was in shock

and not thinking clearly. Okay…okay…absently, I touched

my forehead. It had stopped burning, but it still felt

different. I coughed for the zillionth time. Fine. I wouldn't

think about Heath, but I couldn't deny it any more. I felt

different. My skin was ultrasensitive. My chest hurt, and

even though I had my cool Maui Jim sunglasses on, my

eyes kept tearing up painfully.

"I'm dying…" I moaned, and then promptly clamped

my lips shut. I might actually be dying. I glanced up at the

big brick house that, after three years, still didn't seem like

home. "Get it over with. Just get it over with." At least my

sister wouldn't be home yet—cheerleading practice.

Hopefully, the troll would be totally hypnotized by his new

Delta Force: Black Hawk Down video game (um…ew). I

might have Mom to myself. Maybe she would understand…

maybe she would know what to do.…

Ah, hell! I was sixteen years old, but I suddenly

realized that I wanted nothing as much as I wanted my

mom.

"Please let her understand," I whispered a simple

prayer to whatever god or goddess might be listening to me.

As usual, I went in through the garage. I walked

down the hall to my room and dumped my geometry book,

purse, and backpack on my bed. Then I took a deep breath

and headed, a little shakily, to find my mom.

She was in the family room, curled up on the edge

of the couch, sipping a cup of coffee and reading Chicken

Soup for a Woman's Soul. She looked so normal, so much

like she used to look. Except that she used to read exotic

romances and actually wear makeup. Both were things her

new husband didn't allow (what a turd).

"Mom?”

"Hum?" She didn't look up at me.

I swallowed hard. "Mama." I used the name I used

to call her, back in the days before she married John. "I

need your help.”

I don't know whether it was the unexpected use of

"Mama" or if something in my voice touched an old piece

of mom-intuition she still had somewhere inside her, but the

eyes she lifted immediately from the book were soft and

filled with concern.

"What is it, baby—" she began, and then her words

seemed to freeze on her lips as her eyes found the Mark on

my forehead.

"Oh, God! What have you done now?”

My heart started to hurt again. "Mom, I didn't do

anything. This is something that happened to me, not

because of me. It's not my fault.”

"Oh, please, no!" she wailed as if I hadn't said a

word. "What is your father going to say?”

I wanted to scream how the hell would any of us

know what my father was going to say, we haven't seen or

heard from him for fourteen years! But I knew it wouldn't

do any good, and it always just made her mad when I

reminded her that John was not my "real" father. So I tried a

different tactic—one I'd given up on three years ago.

"Mama, please. Can't you just not tell him? At least

for a day or two? Just keep it between the two of us until

we…I don't know…get used to it or something.” I held my

breath.

"But what would I say? You can't even cover that

thing up with makeup.” Her lips curled weirdly as she gave

the crescent moon a nervous glance.

"Mom, I didn't mean that I'd stay here while we got

used to it. I have to go; you know that." I had to pause while

a huge cough made my shoulders shake. "The Tracker

Marked me. I have to move to the House of Night or I'm

just going to get sicker and sicker.” And then die, I tried to

tell her with my eyes. I couldn't actually say the words. "I

just want a couple of days before I have to deal with…" I

broke off so I didn't have to say his name, this time

purposefully making myself cough, which wasn't hard.

"What would I tell your father?”

I felt a rush of fear at the panic in her voice. Wasn't

she the mom? Wasn't she supposed to have the answers

instead of the questions?

"Just…just tell him that I'm spending the next

couple days at Kayla's house because we have a big biology

project due.”

I watched my mom's eyes change. The concern

faded from them and was replaced by a hardness that I

recognized all too well.

"So what you're saying is that you want me to lie to

him.”

"No, Mom. What I'm saying is that I want you, for

once, to put what I need before what he wants. I want you

to be my mama. To help me pack and to drive with me to

this new school because I'm scared and sick and I don't

know if I can do it all by myself!" I finished in a rush,

breathing hard and coughing into my hand.

"I wasn't aware that I had stopped being your mom,"

she said coldly.

She made me feel even more tired than Kayla had. I

sighed. "I think that's the problem, Mom. You don't care

enough to be aware of it. You haven't cared about anything

but John since you married him.”

Her eyes narrowed at me. "I don't know how you

can be so selfish. Don't you realize all that he's done for us?

Because of him I quit that awful job at Dillards. Because of

him we don't have to worry about money and we have this

big, beautiful house. Because of him we have security and a

bright future.”

I'd heard these words so often I could have recited

them with her. It was at this point in our non-conversations

that I usually apologized and went back to my room. But

today I couldn't apologize. Today I was different.

Everything was different.

"No, Mother. The truth is that because of him you

haven't paid any attention to your kids for three years. Did

you know that your oldest daughter has turned into a

sneaky, spoiled slut who's screwed half of the football

team? Do you know what nasty, bloody video games Kevin

keeps hidden from you? No, of course you don't! The two

of them act happy and pretend to like John and the whole

damn make-believe family thing, so you smile at them and

pray for them and let them do whatever. And me? You think

I'm the bad one because I don't pretend—because I'm

honest. You know what? I'm so sick of my life that I'm glad

the Tracker Marked me! They call that vampyre school the

House of Night, but it can't be any darker than this perfect

home!" Before I could cry or scream I whirled around and

stalked back to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me.

I hope they all drown.

Through the too thin walls I could hear her making a

hysterical call to John. There was no doubt that he'd rush

home to deal with me. The Problem. Instead of sitting on

the bed and crying like I was tempted to, I emptied the

school crap out of my backpack. Like I'd need it where I

was going? They probably don't even have normal classes.

They probably have classes like Ripping Peoples Throats

Out um and…and…Intro to How to See in the Dark

Whatever.

No matter what my mom did or didn't do, I couldn't

stay here. I had to leave.

So what did I need to take with me?

My two favorite pairs of jeans, besides what I had

on. A couple of black T-shirts. I mean, what else do

vampyres wear? Plus, they are slimming. I almost passed on

my cute aqua-colored sparkly cami, but all that black was

bound to make me more depressed…so I included it. Then I

stuffed tons of bras and thongs and hair and makeup things

into the side pouch. I almost left my stuffed animal, Otis the

Shish (couldn't say fish when I was two), on my pillow,

but…well…vampyre or not I didn't think I could sleep very

well without him. So I tucked him gently into the damn

backpack.

Then I heard the knock on my door, and its voice

called me out of my room.

"What?" I yelled, and then I convulsed in a bout of

nasty coughing.

"Zoey. Your mother and I need to speak with you.”

Great. Clearly they didn't drown.

I patted Otis the Shish. "Otis, this sucks." I squared

my shoulders, coughed again, and went out to face the

enemy.

CHAPTER THREE

At first glance my step-loser, John Heifer, appears to

be an okay guy, even normal. (Yes, that's really his last

name—and, sadly, it is also now my mom's last name. She's

Mrs. Heifer. Can you believe it?) When he and my mom

started dating I actually overheard some of my mom's

friends calling him "handsome" and "charming." At first. Of

course now Mom has a whole new group of friends, ones

Mr. Handsome and Charming thinks are more appropriate

than the group of fun single women she used to hang with.

I never liked him. Really. I'm not just saying that

because I can't stand him now. From the first day I met him

I saw only one thing—a fake. He fakes being a nice guy. He

fakes being a good husband. He even fakes being a good

father.

He looks like every other dad-age guy. He has dark

hair, skinny chicken legs, and is getting a gut. His eyes are

like his soul, a washed-out, cold, brownish color.

I walked into the family room to find him standing

by the couch. My mother was crumpled near the end of it,

clutching his hand. Her eyes were already red and watery.

Great. She was going to play Hurt Hysterical Mother. It's an

act she does well.

John had begun to attempt to skewer me with his

eyes, but my Mark distracted him. His face twisted in

disgust.

"Get thee behind me, Satan!" he quoted in what I

like to think of as his sermon voice.

I sighed. "It's not Satan. It's just me.”

"Now is not the time for sarcasm, Zoey," Mom said.

"I'll handle this, hon," the step-loser said, patting her

shoulder absently before he turned his attention back to me.

"I told you that your bad behavior and your attitude

problem would catch up with you. I'm not even surprised it

happened this soon.”

I shook my head. I expected this. I really expected

this, and still it was a shock. The entire world knew that

there was nothing anyone could do to bring on the Change.

The whole "if you get bit by a vampyre you'll die and

become one" thing is strictly fiction. Scientists have been

trying to figure out what causes the sequence of physical

events that lead to vampyrism for years, hoping that if they

figure it out they could cure it, or at the very least invent a

vaccine to fight against it. So far, no such luck. But now

John Heifer, my step-loser, had suddenly discovered that

bad teenage behavior—specifically my bad behavior, which

mostly consisted of an occasional lie, some pissed off

thoughts and smart-ass comments directed primarily

against my parents, and maybe some semi-harmless lust for

Ashton Kutcher (sad to say he likes older women)—

actually brought about this physical reaction in my body.

Well, hell! Who knew?

"This wasn't something I caused," I finally managed

to say. "This wasn't done because of me. It was done to me.

Every scientist on the planet agrees with that.”

"Scientists are not all-knowing. They are not men of

God.”

I just stared at him. He was an Elder of the People of

Faith, a position he was oh, so proud of. It was one of the

reasons Mom had been attracted to him, and on a strictly

logical level I could understand why. Being an Elder meant

that a man was successful. He had the right job. A nice

house. The perfect family. He was supposed to do the right

things and believe the right way. On paper he should have

been a great choice for her new husband and our father. Too

bad the paper wouldn't have shown the full story. And now,

predictably, he was going to play the Elder card and throw

God in my face. I would bet my cool new Steve Madden

flats that it irritated God as much as it annoyed me.

I tried again. "We studied this in AP biology. It's a

physiological reaction that takes place in some teenagers'

bodies as their hormone levels rise." I paused, thinking

really hard and totally proud of myself for remembering

something I learned last semester. "In certain people the

hormones trigger something-or-other in a…a…" I thought

harder and remembered: "a Junk DNA strand, which starts

the whole Change." I smiled, not really at John, but because

I was thrilled by my ability to recall stuff from a unit we'd

been done with for months. I knew the smile was a mistake

when I saw the familiar clenching of his jaw.

"God's knowledge surpasses science, and it's

blasphemous for you to say otherwise, young lady.”

"I never said scientists are smarter than God!" I

threw my hands up and tried to stifle a cough. "I'm just

trying to explain this thing to you.”

"I don't need to have anything explained to me by a

sixteen-year-old.”

Well, he was wearing those really bad pants and that

awful shirt. Clearly he did need some things explained to

him by a teenager, but I didn't think it was the right time to

mention his unfortunate and obvious fashion impairment.

"But John, honey, what are we going to do about

her? What will the neighbors say?" Her face paled even

more and she stifled a little sob. "What will people say at

Meeting on Sunday?”

He narrowed his eyes when I opened my mouth to

answer, and interrupted before I could speak.

"We are going to do what any good family should

do. We are going to give this to God.”

They were sending me to a convent? Unfortunately,

I had to deal with another round of coughing, so he kept

right on talking.

"We are also going to call Dr. Asher. He'll know

what to do to calm this situation.”

Wonderful. Fabulous. He's calling in our family

shrink, the Incredibly Expressionless Man. Perfect.

"Linda, call Dr. Asher's emergency number, and then

I think it would be wise to activate the prayer phone tree.

Make sure the other Elders know that they are to gather

here.”

My mom nodded and started to get up, but the

words that burst from my mouth made her flop back down

on the couch.

"What! Your answer is to call a shrink who is totally

clueless about teenagers and get all those uptight Elders

over here? Like they would even begin to try and

understand? No! Don't you get it? I have to leave. Tonight.”

I coughed, a really gut-wrenching sound that hurt my chest.

"See! This will just get worse if I don't get around the…I

hesitated. Why was it so hard to say "vampyres"? Because it

sounded so foreign—so final—and, part of me admitted, so

fantastic. "I have to get to the House of Night.”

Mom jumped up, and for a second I thought she was

actually going to save me. Then John put his arm around

her shoulder possessively. She looked up at him and when

she looked back at me her eyes seemed almost sorry, but her

words, typically, reflected only what John would want her

to say.

"Zoey, surely it wouldn't hurt anything if you spent

just tonight at home?”

"Of course it wouldn't," John said to her. "I'm sure

Dr. Asher will see the need for a house visit. With him here

she'll be perfectly fine." He patted her shoulder, pretended

to be caring, but instead of sweet he sounded slimy.

I looked from him to my mom. They weren't going

to let me leave. Not tonight, and maybe not ever, or at least

not until I had to be hauled out by the paramedics. I

suddenly understood that it wasn't just about this Mark and

the fact that my life had been totally changed. It was about

control. If they let me go, somehow they lose. In Mom's

case, I liked to think that she was afraid of losing me. I

knew what John didn't want to lose. He didn't want to lose

his precious authority and the illusion that we were the

perfect little family. As Mom had already said, What would

the neighbors think—what will people think at Meeting on

Sunday? John had to preserve the illusion, and if that meant

allowing me to get really, really sick, well then, that was a

price he was willing to pay.

I wasn't willing to pay it, though.

I guess it was time I took things into my own hands

(after all, they are well manicured).

"Fine," I said. "Call Dr. Asher. Start the prayer

phone tree. But do you mind if I go lay down until everyone

gets here?" I coughed again for good measure.

"Of course not, honey," Mom said, looking

obviously relieved. "A little rest will probably make you

feel better." Then she moved away from John's possessive

arm. She smiled and then hugged me. "Would you like me

to get you some NyQuil?”

"No, I'll be fine," I said, clinging to her for just a

second, wishing so damn hard that it was three years ago

and she was still mine—still on my side. Then I took a deep

breath and stepped back. "I'll be fine," I repeated.

She looked at me and nodded, telling me she was

sorry the only way she could, with her eyes.

I turned away from her and started to retreat to my

bedroom. To my back the step-loser said, "And why don't

you do us all a favor and see if you can find some powder

or something to cover up that thing on your forehead?”

I didn't even pause. I just kept walking. And I

wouldn't cry.

I'm going to remember this, I told myself sternly.

I'm going to remember how awful they made me feel today.

So when I'm scared and alone and whatever else is going to

happen to me starts to happen, I'm going to remember that

nothing could be as bad as being stuck here. Nothing.

CHAPTER FOUR

So I sat on my bed and coughed while I listened to

my mom making a frantic call to our shrink's emergency

line, followed quickly by another equally hysterical call that

would activate the dreaded People of Faith prayer tree.

Within thirty minutes our house would begin to fill up with

fat women and their beady-eyed pedophile husbands.

They'd call me out to the family room. My Mark would be

considered a Really Big and Embarrassing Problem, so

they'd probably anoint me with some crap that was sure to

clog my pores and give me a Cyclops-sized zit before

laying their hands on me and praying. They'd ask God to

help me stop being such an awful teenager and a problem to

my parents. Oh, and the little matter of my Mark needed to

be cleared up, too.

If only it were that simple. I'd gladly make a deal

with God to be a good kid versus changing school and

species. I'd even take the geometry test. Well, okay. Maybe

not the geometry test—but, still, it's not like I'd asked to

become a freak. This whole thing meant that I was going to

have to leave. To start my life over somewhere I'd be the

new kid. Somewhere I didn't have any friends. I blinked

hard, forcing myself not to cry. School was the only place I

really felt at home anymore; my friends were my only

family. I balled up my fists and squidged my face up to

keep from crying. One step at a time—I'd just take this one

step at a time.

No way was I going deal with clones of the steploser on top of everything else. And, as if the People of

Faith weren't bad enough, the horrid prayer session would

be followed by an equally annoying session with Dr. Asher.

He'd ask me a lot of questions about how this and that made

me feel. Then he'd babble on and on about teenage anger

and angst being normal but that only I could choose how it

would have an impact on my life…blah…blah…and since

this was an "emergency" he'd probably want me to draw

something that represented my inner child or whatever.

I definitely had to get out of there.

Good thing I've always been "the bad kid" and was

well prepared for a situation like this. Okay, I wasn't exactly

thinking about escaping from my house so I could run off

and join the vampyres when I put a spare key to my car

under the flowerpot outside my window. I was just

considering that I might want to sneak out and go to Kayla's

house. Or, if I really wanted to be bad I might meet Heath at

the park and make out. But then Heath started drinking and

I started to change into a vampyre. Sometimes life doesn't

make any sense.

I grabbed my backpack, opened my window, and

with an ease that said more about my sinful nature than the

step-loser's boring lectures, I popped out my window

screen. I put on my sunglasses and peeked out. It was only

four thirty or so, and not dark yet, so I was really glad that

our privacy fence hid me from our totally noisy neighbors.

On this side of the house the only other windows were to

my sister's room, and she should still be at cheerleading

practice. (Hell must truly be freezing over because for once

I was sincerely glad my sister's world revolved around what

she called "the sport of cheer.") I dropped my backpack out

first and then slowly followed it out the window, being

careful not to make even a small oof noise when I landed on

the grass. I paused there for way too many minutes, burying

my face in my arms to muffle my horrible cough. Then I

bent over and lifted up the edge of the pot that held the

lavender plant Grandma Redbird had given me, and let my

fingers find the hard metal of the key where it nestled

against the smushed grass.

The gate didn't even squeak when I cracked it open

and inched out like one of Charlie's Angels. My cute Bug

was sitting there where she always sat—right in front of the

third door to our three car garage. The step-loser wouldn't

let me park her inside because he said the lawnmower was

more important. (More important than a vintage VW?

How? That didn't even make sense. Jeesh, I just sounded

like a guy. Since when did I care about the vintageness of

my Bug? I must really be Changing.) I looked both ways.

Nothing. I sprinted for my Bug, jumped in, put it in neutral,

and was truly thankful that our driveway was ridiculously

steep when my wonderful car rolled smoothly and silently

into the street. From there it was east to start it and zip out

of the neighborhood of Big Expensive Houses.

I didn't even glance in the rearview mirror.

I did reach over and turn off my cell phone. I didn't

want to talk to anyone.

No, that wasn't exactly true. There was one person I

really wanted to talk to. She was the one person in the

world who I was positive wouldn't look at my Mark and

think I was a monster or a freak or a really awful person.

Like my Bug could read my mind it seemed to turn

all by itself onto the highway that led to the Muskogee

Turnpike and, eventually, to the most wonderful place in

this world—my Grandma Redbird's lavender farm.

Unlike the drive from school to home, the hour-anda-half trip to Grandma Redbird's farm seemed to take

forever. By the time I pulled off the two-lane highway onto

the hard-packed dirt road that led to Grandma's place, my

body ached even worse than it did that time they hired that

crazy new gym teacher who thought we should do insane

weight circuits while she cracked her whip at us and

cackled. Okay, so maybe she didn't have a whip, but still.

My muscles hurt like hell. It was almost six o'clock and the

sun was finally starting to set, but my eyes still stung.

Actually, even the fading sunlight made my skin feel tingly

and weird. It made me glad that it was the end of October

and it had finally turned cool enough for me to wear my

Borg Invasion 4D hoodie (sure, it is a Star Trek: The Next

Generation ride in Vegas and, sadly, I am on occasion a

total Star Trek nerd) which, thankfully, covered most of my

skin. Before I got out of my Bug I dug around in the

backseat until I found my old OSU trucker's hat and pulled

it down on my head so that my face was out of the sun.

My grandma's house sat between two lavender fields

and was shaded by huge old oaks. It was built in 1942 of

raw Oklahoma stone, with a comfortable porch and

unusually big windows. I loved this house. Just climbing

the little wooden stairs that led to the porch made me feel

better…safe. Then I saw the note taped on the outside of the

door. It was easy to recognize Grandma Redbird's pretty

handwriting: I'm on the bluffs collecting wildflowers.

I touched the soft lavender-scented paper. She

always knew when I was coming for a visit. When I was a

kid I used to think it was weird, but as I got older I

appreciated the extra sense she had. All my life I've known

that, no matter what, I could count on Grandma Redbird.

During those awful first months after Mom married John I

think I would have shriveled up and died if I hadn't been

able to escape every weekend to Grandma's house.

For a second I considered going inside (Grandma

never locked her doors) and waiting for her, but I needed to

see her, to have her hug me and tell me what I had wanted

Mom to say.

Don't be scared…it'll be okay…we'll make it be

okay. So instead of going inside I found the little deer path

at the edge of the northern-most lavender field that would

lead to the bluffs and I followed it, letting my fingertips trail

over the top of the closest plants so that as I walked they

released their sweet, silvery scent into the air around me

like they were welcoming me home.

It felt like years since I'd been here, even though I

knew it had been only four weeks. John didn't like

Grandma. He thought she was weird. I'd even overheard

him tell Mom that Grandma was "a witch and going to He's

such an ass.

Then an amazing thought hit me and I came to a

complete stop. My parents no longer controlled what I did. I

wasn't going to live with them ever again. John couldn't tell

me what to do anymore.

Whoa! How awesome!

So awesome that it sent me into a spasm of

coughing that made me wrap my arms around myself, like I

was trying to hold my chest together. I needed to find

Grandma Redbird, and I needed to find her now.

CHAPTER FIVE

The path up the side of the bluffs had always been

steep, but I'd climbed it about a gazillion times, with and

without my grandma, and I'd never felt like this. It wasn't

just the coughing anymore. And it wasn't just the sore

muscles. I was dizzy and my stomach had started to gurgle

so badly that I was reminding myself of Meg Ryan in the

movie French Kiss after she ate all that cheese and had a

lactose-intolerance fit. (Kevin Kline is really cute in that

movie—well, for an old guy.)

And I was snotting. I don't mean just sniffling a

little. I mean I was wiping my nose on the sleeve of my

hoodie (gross). I couldn't breathe without opening my

mouth, which made me cough more, and I couldn't believe

how badly my chest hurt! I tried to remember what it was

that officially killed the kids who didn't complete the

Change into vampyres. Did they have heart attacks? Or was

it possible that they coughed and snotted themselves to

death?

Stop thinking about it!

I needed to find Grandma Redbird. If Grandma

didn't have the answers, she'd figure them out. Grandma

Redbird understood people. She said it was because she

hadn't lost touch with her Cherokee heritage and the tribal

knowledge of the ancestral Wise Women she carried in her

blood. Even now it made me smile to think about the frown

that came over Grandma's face whenever the subject of the

step-loser came up (she's the only adult who knows I call

him that). Grandma Redbird said that it was obvious that

the Redbird Wise Woman blood had skipped over her

daughter, but that was only because it had been saving up to

give an extra dose of ancient Cherokee magic to me.

As a little girl I'd climbed this path holding

Grandma's hand more times than I could count. In the

meadow of tall grasses and wildflowers we'd lay out a

brightly colored blanket and eat a picnic lunch while

Grandma told me stories of the Cherokee people and taught

me the mysterious-sounding words of their language. As I

struggled up the winding path those ancient stories seemed

to swirl around and around inside my head, like smoke from

a ceremonial fire…including the sad story of how the stars

were formed when a dog was discovered stealing cornmeal

and the tribe whipped him. As the dog ran howling to his

home in the north, the meal scattered across the sky and the

magic in it made the Milky Way. Or how the Great Buzzard

made the mountains and valleys with his wings. And my

favorite, the story about young woman sun who lived in the

east, and her brother, the moon, who lived in the west, and

the Redbird who was the daughter of the sun.

"Isn't that weird? I'm a Redbird and the daughter of

the sun, but I'm turning into a monster of the night.” I heard

myself talking out loud and was surprised that my voice

sounded so weak, especially when my words seemed to

echo around me, as if I were talking into a vibrating drum.

Drum…

Thinking the word reminded me of powwows

Grandma had taken me to when I was a little girl, and then,

my thoughts somehow breathing life into the memory, I

actually heard the rhythmic beating of ceremonial drums. I

looked around, squinting against even the weak light of the

dying day. My eyes stung and my vision was all screwed

up. There was no wind, but the shadows of the rocks and

trees seemed to be moving…stretching…reaching out

toward me.

"Grandma I'm scared…" I cried between wracking

coughs.

The spirits of the land are nothing to be frightened

of Zoeybird.

"Grandma?" Did I hear her voice calling me by my

nickname, or was it only more weirdness and echoes, this

time coming from my memory? "Grandma!" I called again,

and then stood still listening for an answer.

Nothing. Nothing except the wind.

U-no-le… the Cherokee word for wind drifted

through my mind like a half-forgotten dream.

Wind? No, wait! There hadn't been any wind just a

second ago, but now I had to hold my hat down with one

hand and brush away the hair that was whipping wildly

across my face with the other. Then in the wind I heard

them—the sounds of many Cherokee voices chanting in

time with the beating of the ceremonial drums. Through a

veil of hair and tears I saw smoke. The nutty sweet scent of

piñon wood filled my open mouth and I tasted the

campfires of my ancestors. I gasped, fighting to catch my

breath.

That's when I felt them. They were all around me,

almost-visible shapes shimmering like heat waves lifting

from a blacktop road in summer. I could feel them press

against me as they twirled and moved with graceful,

intricate steps around and around the shadowy image of a

Cherokee campfire.

Join us, u-we-tsi a-ge-hu-tsa…Join us, daughter…

Cherokee ghosts…drowning in my own lungs…the

fight with my parents…my old life gone…

It was all just too much. I ran.

I guess what they teach us in biology about

adrenaline taking over during the whole fight-or-flight thing

is true because even though my chest felt like it was going

to explode and it seemed as if I was trying to breathe

underwater, I ran up the last and steepest part of the trail

like they'd opened up all the stores at the mall and they

were giving away free shoes.

Gasping for breath I stumbled up the path—higher

and higher—fighting to get away from the frightening

spirits that hovered around me like fog, but instead of

leaving them behind it seemed I was running farther into

their world of smoke and shadows. Was I dying? Was this

what happens? Was that why I could see ghosts? Where's

the white light? Completely panicked, I rushed forward,

throwing my arms out wildly as if I could hold off the terror

that was chasing me.

I didn't see the root that broke through the hard

ground of the path. Completely disoriented I tried to catch

myself, but all of my reflexes were off. I fell hard. The pain

in my head was sharp, but it lasted only an instant before

blackness swallowed me.

Waking up was weird. I expected my body to hurt,

especially my head and my chest, but instead of pain I

felt…well…I felt fine. Actually, I felt better than fine. I

wasn't coughing. My arms and legs were amazingly light,

tingly, and warm, like I had just slipped into a bubbly hot

tub on a cold night.

Huh?

Surprise made me open my eyes. I was staring up at

a light, which miraculously didn't hurt my eyes. Instead of

the glaring light of the sun, this was more like a soft rain of

candlelight filtering down from above. I sat up, and realized

I was wrong. The light wasn't coming down. I was moving

up toward it!

I'm going to heaven. Well, that'll shock some people.

I glanced down to see my body! I or it or…or…

whatever was lying scarily close to the edge of the bluff.

My body was very still. My forehead had been cut and it

was bleeding badly. The blood dripped steadily into a gash

in the rocky ground, making a trail of red tears that fell into

the heart of the bluff.

It was incredibly weird to look down on myself. I

wasn't scared. But I should be, shouldn't I? Didn't this mean

I was dead? Maybe I'd be able to see the Cherokee ghosts

better now. Even that thought didn't scare me. Actually,

instead of being afraid it was more like I was an observer,

as if none of this could really touch me. (Kinda like those

girls who have sex with everyone and think that they're not

going to get pregnant or a really nasty STD that eats your

brains and stuff. Well, we'll see in ten years, won't we?)

I enjoyed the way the world looked, sparkling and

new, but it was my body that kept drawing my attention. I

floated closer to it. I was breathing in short, shallow pants.

Well, my body was breathing like that, not the I that was

me. (Talk about confusing pronoun usage.) And I/she didn't

look good. I/she was all pale and her lips were blue. Hey!

White face, blue lips, and red blood! Am I patriotic or

what?

I laughed, and it was amazing! I swear I could see

my laughter floating around me like the puffy things you

blow off a dandelion, only instead of being white it was

birthday-cake-frosting-blue. Wow! Who knew hitting my

head and passing out would be so much fun? I wondered if

this was what it was like to be high.

The dandelion icing laughter faded and I could hear

the shining crystal sound of running water. I moved closer

to my body, able to see that what I had at first thought was a

gash in the ground was really a narrow crevasse. The living

water sound was coming from deep inside it. Curious, I

peered down, and the sparkling silver outline of words

drifted up from within the rock. I strained to hear, and was

rewarded by a faint, whispering of silver sound.

Zoey Redbird…come to me…

"Grandma!" I yelled into the slash in the rock. My

words were bright purple and they filled the air around me.

"Is that you, Grandma?”

Come to me…

The silver mixed with the purple of my visible

voice, turning the words the glistening color of lavender

blossoms. It was an omen! A sign! Somehow, like the spirit

guides the Cherokee people have believed in for centuries,

Grandma Redbird was telling me I had to go down into the

rock.

Without any more hesitation, I flung my spirit

forward and down into the crevasse, following the trail of

my blood and the silver memory of my grandma's whisper

until I came to the smooth floor of a cave-like room. In the

middle of the room a small stream of water bubbled, giving

off tinkling shards of visible sound, bright and glasscolored. Mixed with the scarlet drops of my blood it lit up

the cave with a flickering light that was the color of dried

leaves. I wanted to sit next to the bubbling water and let my

fingers touch the air around it and play in the texture of its

music, but the voice called to me again.

Zoey Redbird…follow me to your destiny…

So I followed the stream and the woman's call. The

cave narrowed until it was a rounded tunnel. It curved and

curled around and around, in a gentle spiral, ending

abruptly at a wall that was covered with carved symbols

that looked familiar and alien at the same time. Confused, I

watched the stream pour down into a crack in the wall and

disappear. What now? Was I supposed to follow it?

I looked back down the tunnel. Nothing there except

dancing light. I turned to the wall and felt a jolt of electric

shock. Whoa! There was a woman sitting cross-legged in

front of the wall! She was wearing a white fringed dress

that was beaded with the same symbols that were on the

wall behind her. She was fantastically beautiful, with long

straight hair so black it looked as if it had blue and purple

highlights, like a raven's wing. Her full lips curved up as

she spoke, filling the air between us with the silver power

of her voice.

Tsi-lu-gi U-we-tsi a-ge-hu-tsa. Welcome, Daughter.

You have done well.

She spoke in Cherokee, but even though I hadn't

practiced the language much in the last couple years I

understood the words.

"You're not my grandma!" I blurted, feeling

awkward and out of place as my purple words joined with

hers, making incredible patterns of sparkling lavender in the

air around us.

Her smile was like the rising sun.

No, Daughter, I am not, but I know Sylvia Redbird

very well. I took a deep breath. "Am I dead?”

I was afraid she would laugh at me, but she didn't.

Instead her dark eyes were soft and concerned.

No, U-we-tsi a-ge-hu-tsa. You are far from dead,

though your spirit has been temporarily freed to wander the

realm of the Nunne 'hi.

"The spirit people!" I glanced around the tunnel,

trying to see faces and forms within the shadows.

Your grandmother has taught you well, u-s-ti Do-

tsu-wa…little Redbird. You are a unique mixture of the Old

Ways and the New World—of ancient tribal blood and the

heartbeat of outsiders.

Her words made me feel hot and cold at the same

time. "Who are you?" I asked.

I am known by many names…Changing Woman,

Gaea, A'akuluujjusi, Kuan Yin, Grandmother Spider, and

even Dawn…

As she spoke each name her face was transformed

so that I was dizzied by her power. She must have

understood, because she paused and flashed her beautiful

smile at me again, and her face settled back into the woman

I had first seen.

But you, Zoeybird, my Daughter, may call me by the

name by which your world knows me today, Nyx.

"Nyx," my voice was barely above a whisper. "The

vampyre Goddess?”

In truth, it was the ancient Greeks touched by the

Change who first worshiped me as the mother they

searched for within their endless Night. I have been pleased

to call their descendents my children for many ages. And,

yes, in your world those children are called vampyre.

Accept the name, U-we-tsi a-ge-hu-tsa; in it you will find

your destiny.

I could feel my Mark burning on my forehead, and

all of a sudden I wanted to cry. "I—I don't understand. Find

my destiny? I just want to find a way to deal with my new

life—to make this all okay. Goddess, I just want to fit in

someplace. I don't think I'm up to finding my destiny.”

The Goddess's face softened again, and when she

spoke her voice was like my mother's, only more—as

though she had somehow sprinkled the love of every

mother in the world into her words.

Believe in yourself Zoey Redbird. I have Marked

you as my own. You will be my first true U-we-tsi a-ge-hu-

tsa v-hna-i Sv-no-yi…Daughter of Night…in this age. You

are special. Accept that about yourself and you will begin

to understand there is true power in your uniqueness.

Within you is combined the magic blood of ancient Wise

Women and Elders, as well as insight into and

understanding of the modern world.

The Goddess stood up and walked gracefully toward

me, her voice painting silver symbols of power in the air

around us. When she reached me she wiped the tears from

my cheeks before taking my face in her hands.

Zoey Redbird, Daughter of Night, I name you my

eyes and ears in the world today, a world where good and

evil are struggling to find balance.

"But I'm sixteen! I can't even parallel-park! How am

I supposed to know how to be your eyes and ears?”

She just smiled serenely. You are old beyond your

years, Zoeybird. Believe in yourself and you will find a way.

But remember, darkness does not always equate to evil, just

as light does not always bring good.

Then the Goddess Nyx, the ancient personification

of Night, leaned forward and kissed me on my forehead.

And for the third time that day I passed out.

CHAPTER SIX

Beautiful, see the cloud, the cloud appear. Beautiful,

see the rain, the rain draw near…

The words of the ancient song floated through my

mind. I must be dreaming about Grandma Redbird again. It

made me feel warm and safe and happy, which was

especially nice, since I'd felt so crappy lately…except I

couldn't remember exactly why. Huh. Odd.

Who spoke?

The little corn ear,

High on top of the stalk…

My grandma's song continued and I curled up on my

side, sighing as I rubbed my cheek against the soft pillow.

Unfortunately, moving my head caused an ugly pain to

shoot through my temples, and like a bullet through a pane

of glass, it shattered my happy feeling as the memory of the

last day overwhelmed me.

I was turning into a vampyre.

I had run away from home.

I'd had an accident and then some kind of weird

near-death experience.

I was turning into a vampyre. Oh my God.

Man, my head hurt.

"Zoeybird! Are you awake, baby?”

I blinked my blurry eyes clear to see Grandma

Redbird sitting on a little chair close beside my bed.

"Grandma!" I croaked and reached for her hand. My

voice sounded as terrible as my head felt. "What happened?

Where am I?"

"You're safe, Little Bird. You're safe.”

"My head hurts." I reached up and felt the place on

my head that was tight and sore, and my fingers found the

prick of stitches.

"It should. You scared ten years of my life from

me." Grandma rubbed the back of my hand gently. "All that

blood…" She shuddered, and then shook her head and

smiled at me. "How about you promise not to do that

again?”

"Promise," I said. "So, you found me….”

"Bloody and unconscious, Little Bird.” Grandma

brushed the hair back from my forehead, her fingers

lingering lightly on my Mark. "And so pale that your dark

crescent seemed to glow against your skin. I knew you

needed to be taken back to the House of Night, which is

exactly what I did." She chuckled and the mischievous

sparkle in her eyes made her look like a little girl. "I called

your mother to tell her that I was returning you to the House

of Night, and I had to pretend that my cell phone cut out so

I could hang up on her. I'm afraid she's not happy with

either of us.”

I grinned back at Grandma Redbird. Hee hee, Mom

was mad at her, too.

"But, Zoey, whatever were you doing out during the

daylight? And why didn't you tell me earlier that you had

been Marked?”

I struggled to sit up, grunting at the pain in my head.

But, thankfully, it seemed I'd stopped coughing. Must be

because I'm finally really here—at the House of Night… But

the thought disappeared as my mind processed all of what

Grandma had said.

"Wait, I couldn't have told you any earlier. The

Tracker came to school today and Marked me. I went home

first. I really hoped Mom would understand and take my

side." I paused, remembering again the awful scene with my

parents. In total understanding, Grandma squeezed my

hand. "She and John basically locked me in my room while

they called our shrink and started the prayer tree.”

Grandma grimaced.

"So I crawled out my window and came straight to

you,” I concluded.

"I'm glad you did, Zoeybird, but it just doesn't make

any sense.”

"I know,” I sighed. "I can't believe I got Marked,

either. Why me?”

"That's not what I mean, baby. I'm not surprised you

were Tracked and Marked. The Redbird blood has always

held strong magic; it was only a matter of time before one

of us was Chosen. What I mean is that it makes no sense

that you were just Marked. The crescent isn't an outline. It's

completely filled in.”

"That's impossible!”

"Look for yourself, U-we-tsi a-ge-hu-tsa." She used

the Cherokee word for daughter, suddenly reminding me

very much of a mysterious, ancient goddess.

Grandma searched through her purse for the antique

silver compact she always carried. Without saying anything

else, she handed it to me. I pushed the little clasp. It popped

open to show me my reflection…the familiar stranger…the

me who wasn't quite me. Her eyes were huge and her skin

was too white, but I barely noticed that. It was the Mark

that I couldn't quit staring at, the Mark that was now a

completed crescent moon, filled in perfectly with the

distinctive sapphire blue of the vampyre tattoo. Feeling like

I was still moving through a dream, I reached up and let my

fingers trace the exotic-looking Mark and I seemed to feel

the Goddess's lips against my skin again.

"What does it mean?" I said, unable to look away

from the Mark.

"We were hoping you would have an answer to that

question, Zoey Redbird.”

Her voice was amazing. Even before I looked up

from my reflection I knew she would be unique and

incredible. I was right. She was movie-star beautiful, Barbie

beautiful. I'd never seen anyone up close who was so

perfect. She had huge, almond-shaped eyes that were a

deep, mossy green. Her face was an almost perfect heart

and her skin was that kind of flawless creaminess that you

see on TV. Her hair was deep red—not that horrid carrottop orange-red or the washed-out blond-red, but a dark,

glossy auburn that fell in heavy waves well past her

shoulders. Her body was, well, perfect. She wasn't thin like

the freak girls who puked and starved themselves into what

they thought was Paris Hilton chic. ("That's Hott." Yeah,

okay, whatever, Paris.) This woman's body was perfect

because she was strong, but curvy. And she had great boobs.

(I wish I had great boobs.)

"Huh?" I said. Speaking of boobs—I was totally

sounding like one. (Boob…hee hee).

The woman smiled at me and showed amazingly

straight, white teeth—without fangs. Oh, I guess I forgot to

mention that in addition to her perfection she had a sapphire

crescent moon neatly tattooed in the middle of her forehead,

and from it, swirls of lines that reminded me of ocean,

waves framed her brows, extending down around her high

cheekbones.

She was a vampyre.

"I said, we were hoping you would have some

explanation about why a fledgling vampyre that hasn't

Changed has the Mark of a mature being on her forehead.”

Without her smile and the gentle concern in her

voice her words would have seemed harsh. Instead, what

she said came off as worried and a little confused.

"So I'm not a vampyre?" I blurted.

Her laughter was like music. "Not yet, Zoey, but I

would say that already having your Mark complete is an

excellent omen."

"Oh…I I.…well, good. That's good," I babbled.

Thankfully, Grandma saved me from total

humiliation.

"Zoey, this is the High Priestess of the House of

Night, Neferet. She's been taking good care of you while

you've been"—Grandma paused, obviously not wanting to

say the word unconscious— "while you've been asleep.”

"Welcome to the House of Night, Zoey Redbird,"

Neferet said warmly.

I glanced at Grandma and then back at Neferet.

Feeling more than a little lost I stuttered, "That's—that's not

really my name. My last name is Montgomery.”

"Is it?" Neferet said, raising her amber-tinted brows.

"One benefit of beginning a new life is that you have the

opportunity to start over—to make choices you weren't

given before. If you could choose, what would your true

name be?”

I didn't hesitate. "Zoey Redbird.”

"Then from this moment on, you shall be Zoey

Redbird. Welcome to your new life." She reached out like

she wanted to shake my hand, and I automatically offered

mine. But instead of taking my hand, she grasped my

forearm, which was weird but somehow felt right.

Her touch was warm and firm. Her smile blazed

with welcome. She was amazing and awe-inspiring.

Actually, she was what all vampyres are, more than human

—stronger, smarter, more talented. She looked like

someone had turned on a blazing inner light within her,

which I realize is definitely an ironic description

considering the vampyre stereotypes (some of which I

already knew were totally true): They avoid sunlight,

they're most powerful at night, they need to drink blood to

survive (eesh!), and they worship a goddess who is known

as Night personified.

"Th-thank you. It's nice to meet you," I said, trying

really hard to sound at least semi-intelligent and normal.

"As I was telling your grandmother earlier, we have

never had a fledgling come to us in such an unusual manner

before— unconscious and with a completed Mark. Can you

remember what happened to you, Zoey?”

I opened my mouth to tell her that I totally

remembered it— falling and hitting my head…seeing

myself like I was a floating spirit…following the weirdly

visible words into the cave…and finally meeting the

Goddess Nyx. But right before I said the words I got a

weird feeling, like someone had just hit me in my stomach.

It was clear and it was specific, and it was telling me to shut

up.

"I—I really don't remember much—" I broke off

and my hand found the sore spot where my stitches poked

out. "At least not after I hit my head. I mean, up until then I

remember everything. The Tracker Marked me; I told my

parents and got into a ginormic fight with them; then I ran

away to my grandma's place. I was feeling really sick, so

when I climbed the path up to the bluffs…" I remembered

the rest of it—all of the rest of it—the spirits of the

Cherokee people, the dancing and the campfire. Shut up!

the feeling screamed at me. "I—I guess I slipped because I

was coughing so much, and hit my head. The next thing I

remember is Grandma Redbird singing and then I woke up

here." I finished in a rush. I wanted to look away from the

sharpness of her green-eyed gaze, but the same feeling that

was ordering me to be quiet was also clearly telling me that

I had to keep eye contact with her, that I had to try really

hard to look like I wasn't hiding anything, even though I

didn't really have a clue why I was hiding anything.

"It's normal to experience memory loss with a head

wound." Grandma said matter-of-factly, breaking the

silence.

I could have kissed her.

"Yes, of course it is," Neferet said quickly, her face

losing its sharpness. "Do not fear for your granddaughter's

health, Sylvia Redbird. All will be well with her.”

She spoke to Grandma respectfully, and some of the

tension that had been building inside me loosened. If she

liked Grandma Redbird, she had to be an okay person, or

vampyre or whatever. Right?

"As I'm sure you already know, vampyres"—Neferet

paused and smiled at me—"even fledgling vampyres, have

unusual powers of recovery. Her healing is proceeding so

well that it is perfectly safe for her to leave the infirmary."

She looked from Grandma to me. "Zoey, would you like to

meet your new roommate?”

No. I swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes.”

"Excellent!" Neferet said. Thankfully she ignored

the fact that I was standing there like a smiling stupid

garden gnome.

"Are you sure you shouldn't keep her here another

day for observation?" Grandma asked.

"I understand your concern, but I assure you Zoey's

physical wounds are already healing at a pace you would

find extraordinary.”

She smiled at me again and even though I was

scared and nervous and just plain freaked out I smiled back

at her. It seemed like she was genuinely happy that I was

there. And, truthfully, she made me think turning into a

vampyre might not be such a bad thing.

"Grandma, I'm fine. Really. My head just hurts a

little, and the rest of me feels way better." I realized as I

said it that it was true. I'd completely stopped coughing. My

muscles didn't ache anymore. I felt perfectly normal except

for a little headache.

Then Neferet did something that not only surprised

me, but made me instantly like her—and begin to trust her.

She walked over to Grandma and spoke slowly and

carefully.

"Sylvia Redbird, I give you my solemn oath that

your grand-daughter is safe here. Each fledgling is paired

with an adult mentor.

To ensure my oath to you I will be Zoey's mentor.

And now you must entrust her to my care.”

Neferet placed her fist over her heart and bowed

formally to Grandma. My grandma hesitated for only a

moment before answering her.

"I will hold you to your oath, Neferet, High

Priestess of Nyx." Then she mimicked Neferet's actions by

putting her own fist over her heart and bowing to her before

turning to me and hugging me hard. "Call me if you need

me, Zoeybird. I love you.”

"I will, Grandma. I love you, too. And thank you for

bringing me here," I whispered, breathing in her familiar

lavender scent and trying not to cry.

She kissed me gently on my cheek and then with her

quick, confident steps she walked out of the room, leaving

me alone for the first time in my life with a vampyre.

"Well, Zoey, are you ready to begin your new life?”

I looked up at her and thought again how amazing

she was. If I actually Changed into a vampyre, would I have

her confidence and power, or was that something only a

High Priestess got? For an instant it flashed though my

mind how awesome it would be to be a High Priestess—and

then my sanity returned. I was just a kid. A confused kid at

that, and definitely not High Priestess material. I just want

to figure out how to fit in here, but Neferet had certainly

made what was happening to me seem easier to bear.

"Yes, I am.” I was glad I sounded more confident

than I felt.

CHAPTER SEVEN

"What time is it?”

We were walking down a narrow hall that curved

gently. The walls were made of an odd mixture of dark

stone and jutting brick. Every so often flickering gaslights

that hung from old-fashioned-looking black iron sconces

stuck out of the wall, giving off a soft yellow glow that was,

thankfully, really easy on my eyes. There were no windows

in the hall, and we didn't meet anyone else (even though I

kept peeking nervously around, imagining my first glimpse

of vampyre kids).

"It is nearly four A.M., which means classes have

been out for almost an hour,” Neferet said, and then she

smiled slightly at what I'm sure was my totally shocked

expression.

"Classes begin at eight P.M., and end at three A.M.,"

she explained. "Teachers are available until three thirty

A.M. to give students extra help. The gym is open until

dawn, the exact time of which you will always know as

soon as you have completed the Change. Until then dawn

time is clearly posted in all the classrooms, common rooms,

and gathering areas, including the dining hall, library, and

gym. Nyx's Temple is, of course, open at all hours, but

formal rituals are held twice a week right after school. The

next ritual will be tomorrow.” Neferet glanced at me and

her slight smile warmed. "It seems overwhelming now, but

you'll catch on quickly. And your roommate will help you,

as will I.”

I was just getting ready to open my mouth to ask her

another question when an orange ball of fur ran into the hall

and without a sound, hurled itself into Neferet's arms. I

jumped and made a stupid little squee sound—then I felt

like a total retard when I saw that the orange ball of fur was

not a flying boogieman or whatever, but a massively big

cat.

Neferet laughed and scratched the fur ball's ears.

"Zoey, meet Skylar. He's usually prowling around here

waiting to launch himself at me.”

"That's the biggest cat I've ever seen," I said,

reaching my hand out to let him sniff me.

"Careful, he's a known biter.”

Before I could jerk my hand out of the way, Skylar

started rubbing his face on my fingers. I held my breath.

Neferet tilted her head to the side, as if she was

listening to words in the wind. "He likes you, which is

definitely unusual. He doesn't like anyone except me. He

even keeps the other cats away from this end of campus.

He's really a terrible bully," she said fondly.

I carefully scratched Skylar's ears like Neferet had

been doing. "I like cats," I said softly. "I used to have one,

but when my mom got remarried I had to give it to Street

Cats to be adopted. John, her new husband, doesn't like

cats.”

"I've found that the way a person feels about cats—

and the way they feel about him or her in return—is usually

an excellent gauge by which to measure a person's

character.”

I looked up from the cat to meet her green eyes and

saw that she understood a lot more about freaky family

issues than she was saying. It made me feel connected to

her, and automatically my stress level relaxed a little. "Are

there a lot of cats here?”

"Yes, there are. Cats have always been closely allied

with vampyres.”

Okay, actually I already knew that. In World History

with Mr. Shaddox (better known as Puff Shaddy, but don't

tell him) we learned that in the past cats had been

slaughtered because it was thought that they somehow

turned people into vampyres. Yeah, okay, talk about

ridiculous. More evidence of the stupidity of humans… the

thought popped into my mind, shocking me by how easily

I'd already started thinking of "normal" people as "humans,"

and therefore something different than me.

"Do you think I could have a cat?" I asked.

"If one chooses you, you will belong to him or her.”

"Chooses me?”

Neferet smiled and stroked Skylar, who closed his

eyes and purred loudly. "Cats choose us; we don't own

them.” As if to demonstrate what she said was true, Skylar

jumped out of her arms and, with a stuck-up flick of his tail,

disappeared down the hall.

Neferet laughed. "He's really awful, but I do adore

him. I think I would, even were it not part of my gift from

Nyx.”

"Gift? Skylar is a gift from the Goddess?”

"Yes, in a way. Every High Priestess is given an

affinity—what you would probably think of as special

powers—by the Goddess. It's part of the way we identify

our High Priestesses. The affinities can be unusual

cognitive skills, like reading minds or having visions and

being able to predict the future. Or the affinity can be for

something in the physical realm, like a special connection

to one of the four elements, or to animals. I have two

Goddess gifts. My main affinity is for cats; I have a

connection with them that is unusual, even for a vampyre.

Nyx has also given me unusual powers of healing." She

smiled. "Which is why I know you're healing well—my gift

told me.”

"Wow, that's amazing," was all I could think to say.

My head was already reeling from the events of the past

day.

"Come on. Let's get you to your room. I'm sure

you're hungry and tired. Dinner will start in"—Neferet

cocked her head to the side as if someone was weirdly

whispering the time to her—"an hour.” She gave me a

knowing smile. "Vampyres always know what time it is.”

"That's cool, too.”

"That, my dear fledgling, is just the tip of the 'cool'

iceberg.”

I hoped her analogy didn't have anything to do with

Titanic-sized disasters. As we continued walking down the

hall I thought about time and stuff, and remembered the

question I had started to ask when Skylar had interrupted

my easily derailed train of thought.

"So, wait. You said that classes start at eight? At

night?" Okay, I'm usually not this slow, but some of this

was like she was speaking a foreign language to me. I was

having a hard time getting it.

"Once you take a moment to think about it you'll

understand that having classes at night is only logical. Of

course you must know that vampyres, adult or fledgling,

don't explode, or any other such fictional nonsense, if

subjected to direct sunlight, but it is uncomfortable for us.

Wasn't the sunlight already difficult for you to bear today?”

I nodded. "My Maui Jims didn't even help much."

Then I added quickly, feeling moronic again, "Uh, Maui

Jims are sunglasses.”

"Yes, Zoey," Neferet said patiently. "I know

sunglasses. Very well, actually.”

"Oh, God, I'm sorry I—" I broke off, wondering

whether it was okay for me to say "God." Would it offend

Neferet, a High Priestess who wore her Goddess Mark so

proudly? Hell, would it offend Nyx? Oh, God. What about

saying "hell"? It was my favorite cuss word ever. (Okay, it

was really the only cuss word I used regularly.) Could I

still say it? The People of Faith preached that

vampyres worshiped a false goddess and that

they were mostly selfish, dark creatures who

cared about nothing except money and luxury

and drinking blood and they were all certainly

going straight to hell, so wouldn't that mean

that I should watch how and where I used…

"Zoey.”

I looked up to find Neferet studying me

with a concerned expression and realized that

she had probably been trying to get my

attention while I had been babbling inside my

head.

"I'm sorry,” I repeated.

Neferet stopped. She put her hands on my shoulders

and turned me so that I had to face her.

"Zoey, quit apologizing. And remember,

everyone here has been where you are. This

was new to all of us once. We know what it

feels like—the fear of the Change—the shock at

your life being turned into something foreign.”

"And not being able to control any of it," I

added quietly.

"That, too. It won't always be this bad.

When you're a mature vampyre your life will

seem your own again. You'll make your own

choices; go your own way; follow the path down

which your heart and soul and talents lead

you.”

"If I become a mature vampyre.”

"You will, Zoey.”

"How can you be so sure?”

Neferet's eyes found the darkened Mark

on my forehead. "Nyx has chosen you. For

what, we do not know. But her Mark has been

clearly placed upon you. She would not have

touched you only to see you fail.”

I remembered the Goddess's words, Zoey Redbird,

Daughter of Night, I name you my eyes and ears in the

world today, a world where good and evil are struggling to

find balance, and looked quickly away from Neferet's sharp

gaze, wishing desperately that I knew why my gut was still

telling me to keep my mouth shut about my meeting with

the Goddess.

"It's—it's just a lot to happen all in one day.”

"It certainly is, especially on an empty stomach.”

We had started walking again when the sound of a

ringing cell phone made me jump. Neferet sighed and

smiled apologetically at me, then she fished a small phone

out of her pocket.

"Neferet," she said. She listened for a little while

and I saw her forehead wrinkle, and her eyes narrow. "No,

you were right to call me. I'll come back and check on her."

And she flipped the phone shut. "I'm sorry, Zoey. One of the

fledglings broke her leg earlier today. It seems she's having

trouble resting, and I should go back and be sure all is well

with her. Why don't you follow this hallway around to the

left until you come to the main door? You can't miss it—it's

large and made of very old wood. Right outside is a stone

bench. You can wait there for me. I won't be long.”

"Okay, no problem." But before I'd finished

speaking Neferet had already disappeared back down the

winding hallway. I sighed. I didn't like the idea of being by

myself in a place that was full of vampyres and vampyre

kids. And now that Neferet was gone the little flickering

lights didn't seem so welcoming. They seemed weird,

throwing ghostly shadows against the old stone hall.

Determined not to freak myself out, I started slowly

down the hall in the direction we had been heading. Pretty

soon I almost wished I'd run into some other people (even if

they were vampyres). It was too quiet. And creepy. A couple

of times the hall branched off to the right, but like Neferet

had told me, I kept to the left. Actually, I also kept my eyes

to the left because those other halls had hardly any lights in

them.

Unfortunately at the next right-hand turn off the hall

I didn't avert my eyes. Okay, so the reason made sense. I

heard something.

To be more specific, I heard a laugh. It was a soft,

girly laugh that for some reason made the hair on the back

of my neck stand up. It also made me stop walking. I

peeked down the hall and thought I saw movement in the

shadows.

Zoey… My name was whispered from the shadows.

I blinked in surprise. Had I really heard my name or

was I imagining things? The voice was almost familiar.

Could it be Nyx again? Was the Goddess calling my name?

Almost as afraid as I was intrigued, I held my breath and

took a few steps into the side hallway.

As I walked around the gentle bend I saw something

ahead of me that made me stop and automatically move

closer to the wall. In a little alcove not far from me were

two people. At first I couldn't make my mind process what I

was seeing; then in a rush I understood.

I should have gotten out of there then. I should have

backed silently away and tried not to think about what I'd

seen. But I didn't do any of those things. It was like my feet

were suddenly so heavy I couldn't pick them up. All I could

do was watch.

The man—and then with a little jolt of additional

shock I realized that he wasn't a man, he was a teenager—

not more than a year or so older than me. He was standing

with his back pressed against the stone of the alcove. His

head was tilted back and he was breathing hard. His face

was in the shadows, but even though he was only partially

visible I could see that he was handsome. Then another

breathy little laugh drew my eyes downward.

She was on her knees in front of him. All I could see

of her was her blond hair. There was so much of it that it

looked like she was wearing it as some kind of ancient veil.

Then her hands moved up, running along the guy's thighs.

Go! my mind screamed at me. Get out of there! I

started to take a step back, and then his voice made me

freeze.

"Stop!”

My eyes got huge because for a second I thought he

was talking to me.

"You don't really want me to.”

I felt almost dizzy with relief when she spoke. He

was talking to her, not me. They didn't even know I was

there.

"Yes, I do.” It sounded as if he was grinding his

words from between his teeth. "Get off your knees.”

"You like it—you know you like it. Just like you

know you still want me.”

Her voice was all husky and trying to be sexy, but I

could also hear the whine in it. She sounded almost

desperate. I watched her fingers move, and my eyes

widened in amazement when she drew the nail of her index

finger down his thigh. Unbelievably, her fingernail slashed

through his jeans, just like it was a knife, and a line of fresh

blood appeared, startling in its liquid redness.

I didn't want it to, and it grossed me out, but at the

sight of the blood my mouth started watering.

"No!" He snapped, putting his hands on her

shoulders and trying to push her away from him.

"Oh, quit pretending?" she laughed again, a mean,

sarcastic sound. "You know we'll always be together.” She

reached up with her tongue and licked along the line of

blood.

I shuddered; against my will I was completely

mesmerized.

"Cut it out!" He was still pushing at her shoulders. "I

don't want to hurt you, but you're really starting to piss me

off. Why can't you understand? We're not doing this

anymore. I don't want you.”

"You want me! You'll always want me!" She

unzipped his pants.

I shouldn't be there. I shouldn't be seeing this. I tore

my eyes from his bloody thigh and took one step back.

The guy's eyes lifted. He saw me.

And then something truly bizarre happened. I could

feel his touch through our eyes. I couldn't look away from

him. The girl in front of him seemed to disappear, and all

there was in the hallway was him and me and the sweet,

beautiful smell of his blood.

"You don't want me? That's not how it looks now,"

she said with a nasty purr in her voice.

I felt my head begin to shake back and forth, back

and forth. At the same moment he cried "No!" and tried to

push her out of the way so that he could move toward me.

I ripped my eyes away from his and stumbled back.

"No!" he said again. This time I knew he was

speaking to me and not her. She must have realized it, too,

because with a cry that sounded uncomfortably like the

snarl of a wild animal, she started to whirl around. My body

unfroze. At the same instant I turned and ran back down the

hall.

I expected them to come after me, so I kept running

until I reached the huge old doors Neferet had described.

Then I stood there, leaning against their cold wood, trying

to get my breathing under control so I could listen for the

sounds of running feet.

What would I do if they did chase me down? My

head was pounding painfully again, and I felt weak and

totally scared. And completely, utterly grossed out.

Yes, I was aware of the whole oral sex thing. I doubt

if there's a teenager alive in America today who isn't aware

that most of the adult public think we're giving guys blow

jobs like they used to give guys gum (or maybe more

appropriately suckers). Okay, that's just bullshit, and it's

always made me mad. Of course there are girls who think

it's "cool" to give guys head. Uh, they're wrong. Those of us

with functioning brains know that it is not cool to be used

like that.

Okay, so I knew about the whole blow job issue. I' d

definitely never seen one. So, what I had just seen had

definitely freaked me out. But what had freaked me out

more than the fact that the blonde was doing the nasty to

him was the way I'd responded to seeing the guy's blood.

I'd wanted to lick it, too.

And that's just not normal.

Then there's the whole issue about me sharing that

weird look with him. What had that been all about?

"Zoey, are you all right?”

"Hell!" I gasped and jumped. Neferet was standing

behind me looking at me with total confusion.

"Are you feeling ill?”

"I—I…" My mind flailed about. No way could I tell

her what I'd just seen. "My head just really hurts," I finally

managed to say. And it was true. I had a killer headache.

Her frown was full of concern. "Let me help you."

Neferet placed her hand lightly over the line of stitches on

my forehead. She closed her eyes and I could hear her

whispering something in a language I could not understand.

Then her hand started to feel warm and it was as if the

warmth became liquid and my skin absorbed it. I closed my

eyes and sighed in relief as the pain in my head began to

fade.

"Better?”

"Yes," I barely whispered.

She took her hand away and I opened my eyes.

"That should keep the pain away. I don't know why it

suddenly came back with such force.”

"Me, neither, but it's gone now," I said quickly.

She studied me silently for a little while more while

I held my breath. Then she said, "Anything upset you?”

I swallowed. "I'm a little scared about meeting my

new roommate." Which technically wasn't a lie. It wasn't

what had upset me, but I was scared about it.

Neferet's smile was kind. "All will be well, Zoey.

Now let me introduce you to your new life.”

Neferet opened the thick wooden door and we

walked out into a large courtyard that fronted the school.

She stepped aside and let me gawk. Teenagers wearing

uniforms that somehow looked cool and unique while still

being similar walked in small groups across the courtyard

and along the sidewalk. I could hear the deceptively normal

sound of their voices as they laughed and talked. I kept

staring from them to the school, not sure which to gawk at

first. I chose the school. It was the less intimidating of the

two (and I was scared I'd see him). The place was like

something out of a creepy dream. It was the middle of the

night, and it should have been deeply dark, but there was a

brilliant moon shining above the huge old oaks that shaded

everything. Freestanding gaslights housed in tarnished

copper fixtures followed the sidewalk that ran parallel to the

huge red brick and black rock building. It was three stories

tall and had a weirdly high roof that pointed up and then

flattened off at the top. I could see that heavy drapes had

been opened and soft yellow lights made shadows dance up

and down the rooms, giving the entire structure an alive and

welcoming look. A round tower was attached to the front of

the main building, furthering the illusion that the place was

much more castle-like than school-like. I swear, a moat

would have looked more like it belonged there than a

sidewalk ringed by thick azalea bushes and a neat lawn.

Across from the main building was a smaller one

that looked older and church-like. Behind it and the old

oaks that shaded the schoolyard I could see the shadow of

the enormous stone wall that surrounded the entire school.

In front of the church building was a marble statue of a

woman who was wearing long, flowing robes.

"Nyx!" I blurted.

Neferet lifted one eyebrow in surprise. "Yes, Zoey.

That is a statue of the Goddess, and the building behind it is

her temple." She motioned for me to walk with her down

the sidewalk and gestured expansively at the impressive

campus that stretched before us. "What is known today as

the House of Night was built in the neo-French-Norman

style, with stones imported from Europe. It originated in the

mid-192os as an Augustine monastery for the People of

Faith. Eventually it was converted into Cascia Hall, a

private preparatory school for affluent human teenagers.

When we decided that we must open a school of our own in

this part of the country, we bought it from Cascia Hall five

years ago.”

I only vaguely recalled the days when it had been a

stuck-up private school—actually the only reason I'd ever

thought about it at all was that I remembered hearing the

news that a whole herd of kids who went to Cascia Hall had

been busted for drugs, and how shocked the adults had

been. Whatever. No one else had been shocked that those

rich kids were majorly into drugs.

"I'm surprised they sold it to you guys,” I said

absently.

Her laugh was low and a little dangerous. "They

didn't want to, but we made their arrogant headmaster an

offer even he couldn't refuse.”

I wanted to ask her what she meant, but her laugh

gave me a skin-crawly feeling. And, plus, I was busy. I

couldn't stop staring. Okay the first thing I noticed was that

everyone who had a solid vampyre tattoo was incredibly

good-looking. I mean, it was totally insane. Yes, I knew that

vampyres were attractive. Everyone knew that. The most

successful actors and actresses in the world were vampyres.

They were also dancers and musicians, authors and singers.

Vampyres dominated the arts, which is one reason they had

so much money—and also one reason (of many) that the

People of Faith considered them selfish and immoral. But

really, they're just jealous that they're not as good-looking.

The People of Faith would go see their movies, plays,

concerts, buy their books and their art, but at the same time

they'd talk about them and look down at them, and God

knows they'd never, ever mix with them. Hello—can you

say hypocrites?

Anyway, being surrounded by so many totally

gorgeous people made me want to crawl under a bench,

even though many of them greeted Neferet and then smiled

and said hello to me, too. Between hesitantly returning their

hellos I snuck looks at the kids who walked by us. Each of

them nodded respectfully to Neferet. Several of them

bowed formally to her and crossed their fists over their

hearts, which made Neferet smile and bow slightly in

response. Okay, the kids weren't as gorgeous as the adults.

Sure, they were nice-looking—interesting actually, with

their crescent moon outlines, and their uniforms that looked

more like runway designs than school clothes—but they

didn't have the glossy, inhumanly attractive light that

radiated from inside each of the adult vampyres. Uh, I did

notice that, as I had suspected, their uniforms had a lot of

basic black in them (you'd think that a group of people so

up on the arts would recognize a cliché when one goes

walking by in boring Goth black. I'm just saying…). But I

suppose if I was going to be honest I'd have to admit it

looked good on them—the black mixed with tiny plaid lines

of deep purple, dark blue, and emerald green. Each uniform

had an ornate design embroidered in gold or silver on either

its jacket breast pocket or blouse pocket. I could tell that

some of the designs were the same, but I couldn't see

exactly what they were. Also, there was a weirdly large

amount of kids with long hair. Seriously, the girls had long

hair, the guys had long hair, the teachers had long hair, even

the cats that wandered across the sidewalk from time to

time were long-haired balls of fur. Odd. Good thing I'd

talked myself out of getting my hair cut in that short duck

butt style Kayla had cut hers off in last week.

I also noticed that the adults and the kids had one

other thing in common—their eyes all lingered with

obvious curiosity on my Mark. Great. So I was beginning

my new life as an anomaly, which figured about as much as

it sucked.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The part of the House of Night that held the dorms

was way across campus, so we had a fairly long walk, and

Neferet seemed to be walking slowly on purpose, giving me

plenty of time to ask questions and gawk. Not that I

minded. Walking the length of the sprawling castle-like

cluster of buildings, with Neferet pointing out little details

about what was what, gave me a sense of the place. It was

weird, but in a good way. Plus, walking felt normal.

Actually, as odd as it sounds, I felt like myself again. I

wasn't coughing. My body didn't ache. My head even had

stopped hurting. I was absolutely, totally not thinking about

the disturbing scene I'd accidentally witnessed. I was

forgetting it—on purpose. The last thing I needed was to

have more to deal with than a new life and a weird Mark.

So, blow job—forgotten.

Deeply in denial I told myself that if I hadn't been

walking through a school campus at an ungodly hour of the

night beside a vampyre I almost could pretend that I was the

same today as I had been yesterday. Almost.

Well, okay. Maybe not even almost, but my head did

feel better, and I was just about ready to face my roommate

when Neferet finally opened the door to the girl's dorm.

Inside was a surprise. I'm not sure what I expected

—maybe everything to be all black and creepy. But it was

nice, decorated in soft blue and antique yellow, with comfy

couches and clumps of puffy pillows big enough to sit on

dotting the room like giant pastel M&Ms. The soft gaslight

coming from several antique crystal chandeliers made the

place look like a princess's castle. On the cream-colored

walls there were large oil paintings, all of them of ancient

women who looked exotic and powerful. Fresh-cut flowers,

mostly roses, sat in crystal vases on end tables that were

cluttered with books and purses and fairly normal-looking

teenage girl stuff. I saw several flat screen TVs, and

recognized the sounds of MTV's Real World coming from

one of them. I took in all of this fast, while I tried to smile

and appear friendly to the girls who had shut up the instant I

walked in the room and were now staring at me. Well,

scratch that. They weren't exactly staring at me. They were

staring at the Mark on my forehead.

"Ladies, this is Zoey Redbird. Greet her and

welcome her to the House of Night.”

For a second I didn't think anyone was going to say

anything, and I wanted to die of new-kid mortification.

Then a girl stood up from among the middle of a group that

was clustered around one of the TVs. She was a tiny blonde

and darn near perfect. Actually, she reminded me of a young

version of Sarah Jessica Parker (who I don't like, by the by

—she's just so…so…annoying and unnaturally perky).

"Hi Zoey. Welcome to your new home." The SJP

look-alike's smile was warm and genuine, and she was

clearly making an effort to make eye contact instead of

gawk at my darkened-in Mark. Instantly I felt bad for

making a negative comparison about her. "I'm Aphrodite,"

she said.

Aphrodite? Okay, maybe I hadn't been too hasty in

my comparison. How could anyone normal choose

Aphrodite as her name? Please. Talk about delusions of

grandeur. I plastered a smile on my face, though, and said a

bright, "Hi Aphrodite!”

"Neferet, would you like me to show Zoey to her

room?”

Neferet hesitated, which felt really odd. Instead of

answering right away she just stood there and locked eyes

with Aphrodite. Then, just as quickly as the silent staredown had started, Neferet's face broke into a wide smile.

"Thank you, Aphrodite, that would be lovely. I am

Zoey's mentor, but I'm sure she would feel much more

welcomed if someone her own age showed her the way to

her room.”

Was that anger I saw flash through Aphrodite's eyes?

No, I must have imagined it—or at least I would have

believed I'd imagined it if that weird new gut feeling of

mine hadn't told me otherwise. And I didn't need my new

intuition to clue me in that something was wrong, because

Aphrodite laughed—and I recognized the sound of it.

Feeling like someone had punched me in the gut I

realized that this girl—Aphrodite—had been the one I'd just

watched with the guy in the hall!

Aphrodite's laugh, followed by her perky, "Of

course I'd be happy to show her around! You know I'm

always glad to help you, Neferet," was as fake and cold as

Pamela Anderson's humongously huge boobs, but Neferet

just nodded in response and then turned to face me.

"I'll leave you now, Zoey," Neferet said, squeezing

my shoulder. "Aphrodite will take you to your room, and

your new roommate can help you get ready for dinner. I'll

see you in the dining room.” She smiled her warm, momsmile at me, and I had the ridiculously childish urge to hug

her and beg her not to leave me alone with Aphrodite.

"You'll be fine," she said, as if she could read my mind.

"You'll see, Zoeybird. All will be well," she whispered,

sounding so much like my grandma that I had to blink hard

not to cry. Then she nodded a quick good-bye to Aphrodite

and the other girls, and left the dorm.

The door closed with a muffled, dead sound. Oh,

hell…I just wanted to go home!

"Come on, Zoey. The rooms are this way,"

Aphrodite said. She motioned for me to come with her up

the wide stairs that curved to our right. As we walked

upstairs I tried to ignore the buzz of voices that instantly

erupted behind us.

Neither of us spoke, and I felt so uncomfortable that

I wanted to scream. Had she seen me back there in the hall?

Well, I sure as hell wasn't going to mention it. Ever. As far

as I was concerned it never happened.

I cleared my throat and said, "The dorm seems nice.

I mean, it's really pretty.”

She cut her eyes sideways at me. "It's better than

nice or really pretty here; it's amazing.”

"Oh. Well. That's good to hear.”

She laughed. The sound was totally unpleasant—

almost a sneer—and it crawled up the back of my neck like

it had when I'd first heard it.

"It's amazing here mostly because of me.”

I glanced at her, thinking that she must be kidding,

and met her cold blue eyes.

"Yeah, you heard me right. This place is cool

because I'm cool.”

Oh. My. God. What a bizarre thing for her to say. I

didn't have a clue how to respond to that very stuck-up

piece of info. I mean, like I needed the stress of a fight with

slutty Ms. Thinking-She's-All-That added on top of a

life/species/school change? And I still couldn't tell whether

she knew it had been me watching her in the hall.

Okay. I just wanted to find a way to fit in. I wanted

to be able to call this new school home. So I decided to take

the safest road and keep my mouth shut.

Neither of us said anything more. The stairs led to a

large hallway lined with doors. I held my breath when

Aphrodite stopped before one that was painted a pretty light

purple, but instead of knocking, she turned to face me. Her

perfect face suddenly looked hateful and cold and definitely

not so pretty.

"Okay, here's the deal, Zoey. You have this weird

Mark, so everyone's talking about you and wondering what

the fuck is up with you." She rolled her eyes and clutched

her pearls dramatically, changing her voice so that she

sounded really silly and gushing. "Oooh! The new girl has a

colored-in Mark! Whatever could that mean? Is she special?

Does she have fabulous powers? Oh my—oh my!" She

dropped her hand from her throat and narrowed her eyes at

me. Her voice went as flat and mean as her gaze. "Here's

what's what. I'm it here. Things go my way. You want to get

along here, then you'd best remember that. If you don't,

you'll be in for a world of shit.”

Okay, she was starting to piss me off. "Look," I said,

"I just got here. I'm not looking for trouble, and I have no

control over what people are saying about my Mark.”

Her eyes narrowed. Ah, crap. Was I going to have to

actually fight this girl? I'd never been in a fight in my life!

My stomach knotted up and I got ready to duck or run or

whatever would not get me beat up.

Then, just as quickly as she'd gone all scary and

hateful, her face relaxed into a smile and she turned back

into sweet little blonde again. (Not that I was fooled.)

"Good. Just so we understand each other.”

Huh? I understood she'd forgotten to take her meds,

but that was all I understood.

Aphrodite didn't give me time to say anything. With

one last, weirdly warm smile, she knocked on the door.

"Come on in!" called a perky voice with an Okie

accent. Aphrodite opened the door.

"Hi y'all! Ohmygosh, come on in.” With a huge grin,

my new roomie, also a blonde, rushed up like a little

countrified tornado. But the instant she saw Aphrodite, her

grin slid from her face and she stopped hurrying toward us.

"I brought your new roommate to you." There was

nothing technically wrong with Aphrodite's words, but her

tone was hateful and she was putting on a terrible, fake

Oklahoma accent. "Stevie Rae Johnson, this is Zoey

Redbird. Zoey Redbird, this is Stevie Rae Johnson. There,

now ain't we all nice and cozy like three little corns on a

cob?”

I glanced at Stevie Rae. She looked like a terrified

little rabbit.

"Thanks for showing me up here, Aphrodite.” I

talked quickly, moving toward Aphrodite, who

automatically stepped back, which put her out in the hall

again. "See you around.” I closed the door on her as her

look of surprise was just beginning to change to anger. Then

I turned to Stevie Rae, who was still pale.

"What's with her?" I asked.

"She's…she's…,”

Even though I didn't know her at all, I could tell that

Stevie Rae was struggling with how much she should or

shouldn't say. So I decided to help her. I mean, we were

going to be roommates. "She's a bitch!" I said.

Stevie Rae's eyes went round, and then she giggled.

"She's not very nice, that's for sure.”

"She needs pharmaceutical help, that's for sure," I

added, making her laugh some more.

"I think we're gonna get along just fine, Zoey

Redbird," she said, still smiling. "Welcome to your new

home!" She stepped aside and made a sweeping arm gesture

at the little room, like she was ushering me into a palace.

I looked around and blinked. Several times. The first

thing I saw was the life-sized Kenny Chesney poster that

hung over one of the two beds and the cowboy (cowgirl?)

hat that rested on one of the bedside tables—the one that

also had the old-fashioned-looking gas lamp with the base

shaped like a cowboy boot. Oh, nu uh. Stevie Rae was a

total Okie!

Then she shocked me with a big hello hug,

reminding me of a cute puppy with her short, curly hair and

her smiling round face. "Zoey, I'm so glad you're feelin'

better! I was so worried when I heard you'd hurt yourself.

I'm really glad you're finally here.”

"Thanks," I said, still staring around what was now

my room, too, feeling totally overwhelmed and weirdly on

the edge of tears again.

"It's kinda scary, isn't it?" Stevie Rae was watching

me with big, serious blue eyes that were filled with

sympathetic tears. I nodded, not trusting my voice.

"I know. I cried the whole first night.”

I swallowed back my own tears and asked, "How

long have you been here?”

"Three months. And, man, I was glad when they told

me I was getting a roommate!”

"You knew I was coming?”

She nodded vigorously. "Oh, yeah! Neferet told me

day before yesterday that the Tracker had sensed you and

was going to Mark you. I thought you'd be here yesterday,

but then I heard that you'd had an accident and been brought

to the clinic. What happened?”

I shrugged and said, "I was looking for my grandma

and I fell and hit my head." I wasn't getting the weird

feeling that told me to keep my mouth shut, but I wasn't

sure how much I should say to Stevie Rae yet, and I was

relieved when she nodded as though she understood and

didn't ask any more questions about the accident—or

mention my weird colored-in Mark.

"Your parents freaked when you got Marked?”

"Totally. Didn't yours?”

"Actually, my mama was okay with it. She said

anything that got me out of Henrietta was a good thing.”

"Henrietta, Oklahoma?" I asked, glad to move to a

subject that was not all about me.

"Sadly, yes.”

Stevie Rae flopped down on the bed in front of the

Kenny Chesney poster and motioned for me to sit on the

one across the room from her. I did, and then felt a little jolt

of surprise when I realized that I was sitting on my cool

hot-pink and green Ralph Lauren comforter from home. I

looked at the little oak end table and blinked. There was my

annoying, ugly alarm clock, nerdy glasses for when I'm sick

of wearing my contacts, and the picture of Grandma and me

from last summer. And in the bookshelves behind the

computer on my side of the room I saw my Gossip Girls

and Bubbles series books (along with some of my other

favorites, including Bram Stoker's Dracula—which was

more than a little ironic), some CDs, my laptop, and—oh

my dear sweet lord—my Monsters Inc. figurines. How

incredibly embarrassing. My backpack was sitting on the

floor next to my bed.

"Your grandma brought your stuff up here. She's

really nice," Stevie Rae said.

"She's more than nice. She's brave as hell to have

faced my mom and her stupid husband to get this stuff for

me. I can only imagine the overly dramatic scene my mom

caused." I sighed and then shook my head.

"Yeah, I guess I'm lucky. At least my mama was

cool about all of this," Stevie Rae pointed to the outline of

the crescent moon on her forehead. "Even if my daddy lost

every bit of his mind, me being his only 'baby girl' and all.”

She shrugged and then giggled. "My three brothers thought

it was awesome and wanted to know if I could help them

get vampyre chicks." She rolled her eyes. "Stupid boys.”

"Stupid boys,” I echoed and smiled at her. If she

thought boys were stupid she and I would get along fine.

"Mostly now I'm okay with all of this. I mean, the

classes are weird but I like them—especially the Tae Kwan

Do class. I kinda like to kick butt." She grinned

mischievously, like a little blonde elf. "I like the uniforms,

which totally shocked me at first. I mean, would anyone

expect to like school uniforms? But we can add stuff to

them and make them unique, so they don't look like typical

stuck-up, boring school uniforms. And there are some

seriously hot guys here—even if boys are stupid." Her eyes

sparkled. "Mostly I'm just so darn glad to be out of

Henrietta that I don't mind all the other stuff, even if Tulsa

is kinda scary because it's so big.”

"Tulsa isn't scary," I said automatically. Unlike too

many kids from our suburb of Broken Arrow, I actually

knew my way around Tulsa, thanks to what Grandma liked

to call "field-tripping" with her. "You just have to know

where to go. There's a great bead gallery where you can

make your own jewelry downtown on Brady Street, and

next door to that is Lola's at the Bowery—she has the best

desserts in town. Cherry Street is cool, too. We're not far

from there now. Actually, we're right by the awesome

Philbrook Museum and Utica Square. There's some

excellent shopping there and—”

I suddenly realized what I was saying. Did vampyre

kids get to mingle with regular kids? I searched my

memory. No. I'd never seen kids with crescent moon

outlines hanging around the Philbrook or Utica's Gap or

Banana Republic or Starbucks. I'd never seen them at the

movies. Hell! I'd never even seen a vampyre kid before

today. So would they keep us locked up here for four years?

Feeling a little short of breath and claustrophobic I asked,

"Do we ever get out of here?”

"Yeah, but there are all sorts of rules you have to

follow."

"Rules? Like what?”

"Well, you can't wear any part of the school uniform

—" She broke off suddenly. "Shoot! That reminds me. We

have to hurry. Dinner is in a few minutes and you need to

change.” She jumped up and started to rummage through

the closet that was on my side of the room, chattering at me

from over her shoulder the whole time. "Neferet had some

clothes delivered here last night. Don't worry about the

sizes not being right. Somehow they always know what size

we'll be before they actually see us—it's kinda freaky how

the adult vamps know way more than they should. Anyway,

don't be scared. I was serious before when I said the

uniforms aren't as awful as you'd think they'd be. You really

can add your own stuff to them—like me.”

I looked at her. I mean, really looked at her. She was

wearing a pair of honest-to-God Roper jeans. You know, the

kind those ag-kids wear that are way too tight and have no

back pockets. How anyone could think no back pockets and

tightness was cute, I'd honestly never understand. Stevie

Rae was totally skinny, and the jeans even made her butt

look wide. I knew before I looked at the girl's feet what

she'd be wearing—cowboy boots. I glanced down and

sighed. Yep. Brown leather, flat-heeled, pointy-tipped

cowboy boots. Tucked into her countrified jeans was a

black, long-sleeved cotton blouse that had the expensive

look of something you'd find at Saks or Neiman Marcus,

versus the cheaper see-through shirts that overpriced

Abercrombie tries to make us believe aren't slutty. When

she glanced over at me I saw that she had double-pierced

ears with little silver hoops in them. She turned and held out

in one hand a black blouse like the one she had on, and a

pullover sweater in another, and I decided that even though

the country look wasn't for me she was kinda cute with her

mixture of hayseed and chic.

"Here ya go! Just throw these on over your jeans

and we'll be ready.”

The flickering light from the cowboy-boot lamp

caught on a streak of silver embroidery that was on the

breast of the sweater she was holding out. I got up and took

the two shirts, holding the sweater up so I could see the

front of it better. The silver embroidery was in the shape of

a spiral that glittered around and around in a delicate circle

that would rest over my heart.

"It's our sign," Stevie Rae said.

"Our sign?”

"Yeah, each class—here they call them third

formers, fourth formers, fifth formers, and sixth formers—

has their own sign. We're third formers, so our sign is the

silver labyrinth of the Goddess Nyx.”

"What does it mean?" I asked, more to myself than

to her as I traced my finger around the sliver circles.

"It stands for our new beginning as we start walking

the Path of Night and learn the ways of the Goddess and the

possibilities of our new life.”

I looked up at her, surprised that she suddenly

sounded so serious. She grinned a little shyly at me and

shrugged her shoulders. "It one of the first things you learn

in Vampyre Sociology 101. That's the class Neferet teaches,

and it sure beats the heck outta the boring classes I was

taking at Henrietta High, home of the fighting hens. Ugh.

Fighting hens! What kind of a mascot is that?" She shook

her head and rolled her eyes while I laughed. "Anyway, I

heard Neferet is your mentor, which is really lucky. She

hardly takes on any new kids, and besides being High

Priestess, she's way the coolest teacher here.”

What she didn't say was that I'm not just lucky, I'm

"special" with my weird colored-in Mark. Which reminded

me…

"Stevie Rae, why haven't you asked me about my

Mark? I mean, I appreciate you not bombarding me with a

hundred questions, but all the way up here everyone who

saw me stared at my Mark. Aphrodite mentioned it almost

the second we were alone. You haven't even really looked at

it. Why?”

Then she did finally look at my forehead before she

shrugged and met my eyes again. "You're my roommate. I

figured you'd tell me what was up with it when you were

ready. One thing growing up in a small town like Henrietta

taught me is that it's best to mind your own business if you

want someone to stay your friend. Well, we're gonna be

rooming together for four years….” She paused and in the

gap between words sat the big, ugly unsaid truth that we'd

be roommates for four years only if both of us survived the

Change. Stevie Rae swallowed hard and finished in a rush,

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want us to be

friends.”

I smiled at her. She looked so young and hopeful—

so nice and normal and not at all what I imagined a

vampyre kid would be. I felt a little stirring of hope. Maybe

I could find a way to fit in here. "I want to be friends, too.”

"Yea for that!" I swear she looked like a wriggly

puppy again. "But come on! Hurry—we don't want to be

late.”

She gave me a shove toward a door that sat between

the two closets before she hurried over to a makeup mirror

on her computer desk and started brushing at her short hair.

I ducked inside to find a tiny bathroom, and quickly pulled

off my BA Tigers T-shirt and put on the cotton blouse and

over it the silk knit sweater that was a deep, pretty shade of

purple with little black plaid lines going through it. I was

just getting ready to go back into the room to grab my

backpack so I could try to fix my face and hair with the

makeup and stuff I'd brought, when I glanced in the mirror

over the sink. My face was still white, but it had lost the

scary, unhealthy paleness it had earlier. My hair looked

insane, all wild and uncombed, and I could faintly see the

slim line of dark stitches just above my left temple. But it

was the sapphire-colored Mark that caught my eyes. While I

stared at it, entranced by its exotic beauty, the bathroom

light caught the silver labyrinth embroidered over my heart.

I decided that the two symbols somehow matched, even

though they were different shapes…different colors…

But did I match them? And did I match this strange

new world?

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and hoped

desperately that whatever we were eating for dinner (oh,

please let there not be any blood-drinking involved)

wouldn't disagree with my already screwed-up, nervous

stomach.

"Oh, no…" I whispered to myself, "it would be just

my luck to get a raging case of diarrhea.”

CHAPTER NINE

Okay, the cafeteria was cool—oops, I mean "dining

hall," as the silver plaque outside the entrance proclaimed.

It was nothing at all like SIHS's freezing cold monstrous

cafeteria where the acoustics were so bad that even though I

sat right next to Kayla I couldn't hear what she was

babbling at me half the time. This room was warm and

friendly. The walls were made of the same weird mixture of

jutting bricks and black rock as the exterior of the building

and the room was filled with heavy wooden picnic tables

that had matching benches with padded seats and backs.

Each table sat about six kids and radiated out from a large,

unoccupied table situated at the center of the room that was

practically overflowing with fruit and cheese and meat, and

a crystal goblet that was filled with something that looked

suspiciously like red wine. (Huh? Wine at school? What?)

The ceiling was low and the rear wall was made up of

windows with a glass door in the center. Heavy burgundy

velvet drapes were pulled open so that I could see outside to

a beautiful little courtyard with stone benches, winding

paths, and ornamental bushes and flowers. In the middle of

the courtyard was a marble fountain with water spouting

from the top of something that looked an awful lot like a

pineapple. It was very pretty, especially lit up by the

moonlight and the occasional antique gaslight.

Most of the tables were already filled with eating,

talking kids who glanced up with obvious curiosity when

Stevie Rae and I entered the room. I took a deep breath and

held my head high. Might as well give them a clear view of

the Mark they all seemed so obsessed with. Stevie Rae led

me to the side of the room that had the typical cafeteria

servers handing out food from behind buffet-style glass

thingies.

"What's the table in the middle of the room for?" I

asked as we walked.

"It's the symbolic offering to the Goddess Nyx.

There's always a place set at that table for her. It seems

kinda weird at first, but pretty soon it won't seem so weird

and it'll feel right to you.”

Actually, it didn't seem that weird to me. In a way, it

made sense. The Goddess was so alive here. Her Mark was

everywhere. Her statue stood proudly in front of her

Temple. I was also starting to notice all over the school little

pictures and figurines that represented her. Her High

Priestess was my mentor and, I had to admit to myself, I

already felt connected to Nyx. With an effort, I stopped

myself from touching the Mark on my forehead. Instead I

grabbed a tray and moved behind Stevie Rae in line.

"Don't worry," she whispered to me. "The food's real

good. They don't make you drink blood or eat raw meat or

anything like that.”

Relieved, I unclenched my jaws. Most of the kids

were already eating, so the line was short, and as Stevie Rae

and I got up to the food I felt my mouth start to water.

Spaghetti! I sniffed deeply: with garlic!

"That whole vampyres can't stand garlic thing is

total bullshit—pardon my French," Stevie Rae was saying

under her breath to me as we loaded up our plates.

"Okay, what about that whole vampyres have to

drink blood thing?" I whispered back.

"Not," she said softly.

"Not?”

"Not bullshit.”

Great. Wonderful. Fantastic. Just exactly what I

wanted to hear—not.

Trying not to think about blood and whatnot I got a

glass of tea with Stevie Rae, and then followed her to a

table where two other kids were already talking animatedly

while they ate. Of course the conversation totally stopped

when I joined them, which didn't seem to faze Stevie Rae at

all. As I slid into the booth opposite her she made

introductions in her Okie twang.

"Hey, y'all. Meet my new roommate, Zoey Redbird.

Zoey, this is Erin Bates," she pointed to the ridiculously

pretty blonde sitting on my side of the table. (Well, hell—

how many pretty blondes could one school have? Isn't there

some kind of limit?) Still in her matter-of-fact Okie voice,

she went on, making little air quotes for emphasis. "Erin is

'the pretty one.' She's also funny and smart and has more

shoes than anyone I've ever known.”

Erin pulled her blue eyes away from staring at my

Mark long enough to say a quick "Hi.”

"And this is the token guy in our group, Damien

Maslin. But he's gay, so I don't really think he counts as a

guy.”

Instead of getting pissed at Stevie Rae, Damien

looked serene and unruffled. "Actually, since I'm gay I think

I should count for two guys instead of just one. I mean, in

me you get the male point of view and you don't have to

worry about me wanting to touch your boobies.”

He had a smooth face that was totally zit free, and

dark brown hair and eyes that reminded me of a baby deer.

Actually, he was cute. Not in the overly girly way so many

teenage guys are when they decide to come out and tell

everyone what everyone already knew (well, everyone

except their typically clueless and/or in-denial parents).

Damien wasn't a swishy girly-guy; he was just a cute kid

with a likable smile. He was also noticeably trying not to

stare at my Mark, which I appreciated.

"Well, maybe you're right. I hadn't really thought

about it like that," Stevie Rae said through a big bite of

garlic bread.

"Just ignore her, Zoey. The rest of us are almost

normal," Damien said. "And we're desperately glad you

finally got here. Stevie Ray's been driving everyone crazy

wondering what you'd be like, when you'd get here—”

"If you'd be one of those freaky kids who smell bad

and think being a vampyre means seeing who can be the

biggest loser," Erin interrupted.

"Or wondering if you'd be one of them," Damien

said, cutting his eyes at a table to our left.

I followed his gaze and felt a zap of nerves when I

recognized who he was talking about. "You mean

Aphrodite?”

"Yeah," Damien said. "And her stuck-up flock of

sycophants.” Huh? I blinked at him.

Stevie Rae sighed. "You'll get used to Damien's

vocabulary obsession. Thankfully, this isn't a new word so

some of us actually know what he's talking about without

having to beg him for a translation. Again. Sycophant—a

servile flatterer," she twanged proudly like she was giving

an answer in English class.

"Whatever. They make me want to retch," Erin said

without looking up from her spaghetti.

"They?" I asked.

"The Dark Daughters," Stevie Rae said, and I

noticed she automatically lowered her voice.

"Think of them like a sorority," Damien said.

"Of hags from hell," Erin said.

"Hey, y'all, I don't think we should prejudice Zoey

against them. She might get along okay with them.”

"Fuck that. They're hags from hell," Erin said.

"Watch that mouth, Er Bear. You have to eat out of

it," Damien said a little primly.

Incredibly relieved that none of them liked

Aphrodite, I was just getting ready to ask for more of an

explanation when a girl rushed up and, with a big huff, slid

herself and her tray into the booth beside Stevie Rae. She

was the color of cappuccino (the kind you get from real

coffee shops and not the nasty, too-sweet stuff you get from

Quick Trip) and all curvy with pouty lips and high

cheekbones that made her look like an African princess. She

also had some seriously good hair. It was thick and fell in

dark, glossy waves around her shoulders. Her eyes were so

black they looked like they didn't have any pupils.

"Okay, please! Just please. Did nobody," she stared

pointedly at Erin, "think to bother to wake me the hell up

and tell me that we were going to dinner?”

"I do believe I'm your roommate, not your mamma,"

Erin said lazily.

"Do not make me cut that Jessica Simpson lookalike blond hair of yours off in the middle of the night," the

African princess said.

"Actually, the consuetudinary way to phrase that

would be 'Do not make me cut that Jessica Simpson lookalike blond hair of yours off in the middle of the day.'

Technically day is night for us and so night would be day.

Time is reversed here.”

The black girl narrowed her eyes at him. "Damien,

you are getting on my damn last nerve what that vocab

shit.”

"Shaunee," Stevie Rae broke in hastily. "My

roommate finally got here. This is Zoey Redbird. Zoey, this

is Erin's roommate, Shaunee Cole.”

"Hi," I said through a mouthful of spaghetti when

Shaunee turned from glaring at Erin to me.

"So, Zoey, what's up with your Mark being colored

in? You're still a fledgling, aren't you?" Everyone at the

table was shocked silent by Shaunee's question. She looked

around. "What? Do not pretend that every last one of you

isn't wondering the same thing.”

"We might be, but we also might be polite enough

not to ask," Stevie Rae said firmly.

"Oh, please. Whatever.” She shrugged off Stevie

Rae's protest. "This is too important for that. Everyone

wants to know about her Mark. There's no time to play

games when good gossip is involved." Shaunee turned back

to me. "So, what's up with the weird Mark?”

Might as well face this now. I took a quick drink of

tea to clear my throat. All four of them were staring at me,

waiting impatiently for my answer.

"Well, I'm still a fledgling. I don't think I'm any

different than the rest of you." Then I blurted something

that I'd been considering while everyone else had been

talking. I mean, I knew that I was going to have to answer

this question eventually. I'm not stupid— confused, maybe,

but not stupid—and my gut told me I needed to say

something besides the real story about my out-of-body

experience with Nyx. "I don't actually know for sure why

my Mark is filled in. It wasn't that way when the Tracker

first Marked me. But later that day I had an accident. I fell

and hit my head. When I woke up the Mark was like it is

now. I've been thinking about it, and all I can come up with

is that it must have happened as some kind of reaction to

my accident. I was unconscious and I lost a lot of blood.

Maybe that did something to speed up the darkening-in

process. That's my guess, anyway.”

"Huh," Shaunee huffed. "I was hoping it'd be

somethin' more interesting. Something good and gossipy.”

"Sorry…," I muttered.

"Careful, Twin," Erin said to Shaunee, jerking her

head at the Dark Daughters. "You're starting to sound like

you should sit over at that table.”

Shaunee's face twisted. "I wouldn't be caught

undead with those bitches.”

"You're confusing the crap outta Zoey," Stevie Rae

said.

Damien gave a long-suffering sigh. "I'll explain,

proving once again how valuable I am to this group, penis

or no penis.”

"I really wish you wouldn't use the P-word," Stevie

Rae said. "Especially when I'm trying to eat.”

"I like it," Erin chimed in. "If everyone called things

what they are we'd all be a lot less confused. For instance,

you know when I have to go to the bathroom I state the

obvious—I have urine that needs to come out of my urethra.

Simple. Easy. Clear.”

"Disgusting. Gross. Crude," Stevie Rae said.

"I'm with you, Twin," Shaunee said. "I mean, if we

talked plainly about things like urination and menstruation

and such, life would be much simpler.”

"Okay. Enough with the menstruation talk while

we're eating spaghetti." Damien held up a hand like he

could physically stop the conversation. "I may be gay, but

there's only so much even I can handle.” He leaned toward

me and launched into his explanation. "First, Shaunee and

Erin call each other Twin because even though they are

clearly not related—Erin being an extremely white girl

from Tulsa, and Shaunee being of Jamaican descent and a

lovely mocha color from Connecticut—”

"Thank you for appreciating my blackness,"

Shaunee said.

"Don't mention it," Damien said, and then continued

smoothly with his explanation. "Even though they aren't

related by blood they are freakishly alike.”

"It's like they were separated at birth or something,"

Stevie Rae said.

At the same moment Erin and Shaunee grinned at

each other and shrugged. It was then that I noticed they

were wearing the same outfit—dark jeans jackets with

beautiful golden wings embroidered on the breast pockets,

black T-shirts, and low-riding black slacks. They even had

on the same earrings—huge gold hoops.

"We have the same shoe size," Erin said, sticking

out her foot so we could see that she was wearing pointytoed black leather stiletto boots.

"And what's a little melanin difference when a truly

soul-deep love of shoes is involved?" Lifting up her foot

Shaunee showed off another great pair of boots—only these

were smooth black leather with sharp silver buckles across

the ankles.

"Next!" Damien cut in, rolling his eyes. "The Dark

Daughters. The short version is that they're a group made up

of mostly upperclassmen who say that they are in charge of

school spirit and such.”

"No, the short version is that they're hags from hell,"

Shaunee said.

"That's exactly what I said, Twin," Erin laughed.

"You two aren't helping," Damien told them. "Now,

where was I?”

"School spirit and such," I prompted.

"That's right. Yeah, they're supposed to be this great,

pro-school, pro-vamp organization. Also, it is assumed that

their leader is being groomed to be a High Priestess, so

she's supposed to be the heart, mind, and spirit of the school

—as well as a future leader in vamp society, et cetera, et

cetera, blah, blah. Think National Merit Scholar in charge

of the Honor Society mixed with cheerleaders and band

fags.”

"Hey, isn't it disrespectful to your gayness to call

them band fags?" Stevie Rae asked.

"I'm using the word as a term of endearment,"

Damien said. "And football players—don't forget there are

Dark Sons, too," Erin said.

"Uh-huh, Twin. It is truly a crime and a shame that

such seriously hot young lads get sucked in—”

"And she does mean that literally," said Erin with a

naughty grin.

"By hags from hell," concluded Shaunee.

"Hello! Like I would forget the boys? I just keep

getting interrupted.”

The three girls gave him apologetic smiles. Stevie

Rae pantomimed zipping her lips shut and throwing away

the key. Erin and Shaunee mouthed "dork" at her, but they

stayed quiet so Damien could finish.

I noticed that they'd played with the word "sucked,"

making me think that the little scene I'd witnessed hadn't

been too unusual.

"But what the Dark Daughters really are is a group

of stuck-up bitches who get off on lording power over

everyone else. They want everyone to follow them, to

conform to their freaky ideas of what it means to become a

vamp. Most of all, they hate humans, and if you don't feel

the same they don't want shit to do with you.”

"Except to give you a hard time," Stevie Rae added.

I could tell from her expression that she must have firsthand

knowledge about the "hard time" part, and I remembered

how pale and scared she'd looked when Aphrodite had

shown me to our room. I made a mental note to remember

to ask her later about what had happened.

"Don't let them scare you, though," Damien said.

"Just watch your back around them and—”

"Hello, Zoey. Nice to see you again so soon.”

I didn't have any trouble recognizing her voice this

time. I decided it was like honey—slick and too darn sweet.

Everyone at the table jumped, including me. She was

wearing a sweater like mine, except that over her heart was

embroidered the silver silhouette of three goddess-like

women, one of them holding what looked like a pair of

scissors. She had on a very short pleated black skirt, black

tights that had silver sparkles in them, and knee-high black

boots. Two girls were standing behind her, dressed in much

the same way. One was black, with impossibly long hair

(must be a really good weave), and the other was yet

another blonde (who, on closer inspection of her brows, was

probably, I decided, as much a natural blonde as I am).

"Hello, Aphrodite," I said when everyone else

seemed too shocked to speak.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," she said

insincerely. "You're not. We were just discussing the trash

that needs to be taken out tonight," Erin said with a big,

fake smile.

"Well, you would certainly know about that," she

said with a sneer, and then purposefully turned her back on

Erin, who was curling her fists and looking as if she might

leap over the table at Aphrodite. "Zoey, I should have said

something to you earlier, but I guess it just slipped my

mind. I want to issue an invitation for you to join the Dark

Daughters in our own private Full Moon Ritual tomorrow

night. I know it's unusual for someone who hasn't been here

long to take part in a ritual so soon, but your Mark has

clearly shown that you're, well, different than the average

fledgling.” She looked down her perfect nose at Stevie Rae.

"I've already mentioned it to Neferet, and she agrees that it

would be good for you to join us. I'll give you the details

later, when you're not so busy with…uh… trash." She gave

the rest of the table her tight-lipped, sarcastic smile, flipped

her long hair, and she and her entourage flitted off.

"Hag bitches from hell," Shaunee and Erin said

together.

CHAPTER TEN

"I keep thinking that hubris is eventually going to

bring Aphrodite down," Damien said.

"Hubris," Stevie Rae explained, "having godlike

arrogance.”

"I actually know that one," I said, still staring after

Aphrodite and her mob. "We just finished reading Medea in

English class. It's what brought Jason down.”

"I'd love to knock the hubris right out of her bobble

head," Erin said.

"I'll hold her for you, Twin," Shaunee said.

"No! Y'all know we've talked about this before. The

penalty for fighting is bad. Really bad. It's not worth it.”

I watched Erin and Shaunee pale at the same time

and wanted to ask what could be so bad, but Stevie Rae

went on talking, this time to me.

"Just be careful, Zoey. The Dark Daughters, and

especially Aphrodite, can seem almost okay at times, and

that's when they're most dangerous.”

I shook my head. "Oh, nu uh. I'm not going to their

full moon thing.”

"I think you have to," Damien said softly.

"Neferet okayed it.” Stevie Rae said as Erin and

Shaunee nodded in agreement. "That means she'll expect

you to go. You can't tell your mentor no.”

"Especially when your mentor is Neferet, High

Priestess of Nyx," Damien said.

"Can't I just say that I'm not ready for…for…

whatever it is they want me to do, and ask Neferet if I can

be—I dunno, what would you call it—excused from their

full moon thingy this time?”

"Well, you could, but then Neferet would tell the

Dark Daughters and they'd think that you're scared of

them.”

I thought about the major crap that had already

passed between Aphrodite and me in such a short time. "Uh,

Stevie Rae, I might already be scared of them.”

"Don't ever let them know." Stevie Rae looked down

at her plate, trying to hide her embarrassment. "That's worse

than standing up to them.”

"Honey," Damien said, patting Stevie Rae's hand,

"stop beating yourself up about that.”

Stevie Rae gave Damien a sweet, thank-you smile.

Then she said to me, "Just go. Be strong and go. They won't

do anything too awful at the ritual. It's here on campus; they

wouldn't dare.”

"Yeah, they do all their bad bullshit away from here,

where it's harder for the vamps to catch them," Shaunee

said. "Around here they pretend to be all sickeningly sweet

so no one knows what they're really like.”

"No one except us," Erin said, sweeping out her

hand so that she included not just our little group, but

everyone else in the room, too.

"I don't know, y'all, maybe Zoey will actually get

along with some of them okay," Stevie Rae said without any

touch of sarcasm or jealousy.

I shook my head. "Nope. I won't get along with

them. I don't like their kind—the kind of people who try to

control others and make them look bad just to feel better

about themselves. And I don't want to go to their Full Moon

Ritual!" I said firmly, thinking about my stepfather and his

buddies, and how ironic it was that they seemed to have so

much in common with a group of teenagers who called

themselves the daughters of a goddess.

"I'd go with you if I could—any of us would—but

unless you're one of the Dark Daughters you can only get in

if you're invited," Stevie Rae said sadly.

"That's okay. just deal with it." Suddenly I wasn't

hungry anymore. I was just very, very tired, and I really

wanted to change the subject. "So explain to me about the

different symbols you wear here. You told me about ours—

Nyx's spiral. Damien has a spiral, too, so that must mean

he's a…I paused to remember what Stevie Rae had called

freshmen, "a third former. But Erin and Shaunee have

wings, and Aphrodite had something else.”

"You mean besides that cob stuck straight up her

skinny anus?" Erin muttered.

"She means the three Fates," Damien interjected,

beating Shaunee to whatever she was going to add. "The

three Fates are children of Nyx. The sixth formers all wear

the emblem of the Fates, with Atropos holding scissors to

symbolize the end of school.”

"And for some of us, the end of life," Erin added

gloomily.

That shut everyone up. When I couldn't stand the

uncomfortable silence anymore I cleared my throat and

said, "So what about Erin and Shaunee's wings?”

"The wings of Eros, who is the child of Nyx's seed

—”

"The love god," Shaunee said, adding a seated

gyration of her hips.

Damien frowned at her and kept talking. "The

golden wings of Eros are the fourth formers' symbol.”

"'Cause we're the love class," Erin sang, raising her

arms over her head and shimmying her hips.

"Actually, it's because we're supposed to be

reminded of Nyx's capacity to love, and the wings

symbolize our continuous movement forward.”

"What's the symbol for fifth formers?" I asked.

"Nyx's golden chariot pulling a trail of stars,"

Damien said.

"I think it's the prettiest of the four symbols," Stevie

Rae said. "Those stars sparkle like crazy.”

"The chariot shows that we continue on Nyx's

journey. The stars represent the magic of the two years that

have already passed."

"Damien, you are a good little student," Erin said.

"I told you we should have gotten him to help us

study for the human mythology test," Shaunee said.

"I thought I told you we needed his help, and—”

"Anyway," Damien shouted over their bickering,

"that's about all there is to the four symbols of the classes.

Easy-peasy, really," he looked pointedly at the now silent

Twins. "That is, if you pay attention in class instead of

writing notes and staring at guys you think are cute.”

"You're really prudey, Damien," Shaunee said.

"Especially for a gay boy.” Erin added.

"Erin, your hair's looking kinda frizzy today. Not to

be mean or anything, but maybe you should think about

switching products. You can't be too careful about those

kinds of things. The next thing you know you'll be getting

split ends.”

Erin's blue eyes got huge and her hand went

automatically to her hair.

"Oh, no no no. I do not believe you just said that,

Damien. You know how crazy she is about her hair."

Shaunee started to puff up like a mocha-colored blowfish.

Damien, meanwhile, just smiled and returned to his

spaghetti— the perfect picture of innocence.

"Uh, y'all," Stevie Rae said quickly, standing up and

pulling me with her by the elbow. "Zoey looks beat. Y'all

remember what it was like when you first got here. We're

going to go back to our room. I have to study for that vamp

sociology test, so I probably won't see you until tomorrow.”

"Okay, see ya," Damien said. "Zoey, it was really

nice to meet you.”

"Yeah, welcome to Hell High.” Erin and Shaunee

said together before Stevie Rae pulled me out of the room.

"Thanks. I really am tired," I told Stevie Rae as we

backtracked through a hall that I was happy to recognize as

the one that would lead to the main entrance to the central

school building. We paused while a sleek, silver-gray cat

chased a smaller, harassed-looking tabby across the hall in

front of us.

"Beelzebub! Leave Cammy alone! Damien is going

to rip your fur out!”

Stevie Rae made a grab for the gray cat and missed,

but he did stop chasing the tabby and instead streaked back

down the hall the way we had just come. Stevie Rae was

frowning after him.

"Shaunee and Erin need to teach that cat of theirs

some manners; he's always up to something.” She glanced

at me as we left the building and walked out into the soft,

pre-dawn darkness. "That cute little Cameron is Damien's

cat. Beelzebub belongs to Erin and Shaunee; he chose both

of them—together. Yep. It's as strange as it sounds, but after

a little while you'll be like the rest of us and start thinking

that they must really be twins.”

"They seem nice, though.”

"Oh, they're great. They bicker a lot, but they're

totally loyal and will never let anyone talk about you." She

grinned. "Okay, they might talk about you, but that's

different, and it won't be behind your back.”

"And I really like Damien.”

"Damien's sweet, and really smart. I just feel bad for

him sometimes, though.”

"How come?”

"Well, he had a roommate when he first got here

about six months ago, but as soon as the guy found out

Damien was gay— hello, it's not like the boy tries to hide it

—he complained to Neferet and said he wasn't going to

room with a fag.”

I grimaced. I can't stand homophobes. "And Neferet

actually put up with that attitude?”

"No, she made it clear that the kid—oh, he changed

his name to Thor after he got here"—she shook her head

and rolled her eyes—"doesn't that just figure? Anyway,

Neferet let it be known that Thor was way out of line, and

she gave Damien the option of moving into another room

by himself or staying with Thor. Damien chose to move. I

mean, wouldn't you?”

I nodded. "Yep. No way would I room with Thor the

Homophobe.”

"That's what we all think, too. So Damien has been

in a room by himself since then.”

"Aren't there any other gay kids here?”

Stevie Rae shrugged. "There're a few girls who are

lesbians and totally out, but even though a couple of them

are cool and hang with the rest of us they mostly stick

together. They're way into the religious aspect of Goddess

worship and spend most of their time in Nyx's Temple. And,

of course, there are the moronic party girls who think it's

cool to make out with each other, but usually only if some

cute guys are watching.”

I shook my head. "You know, I've never understood

why girls think making out with each other is the way to

catch a boyfriend. You'd think it would be

counterproductive.”

"Like I want a boyfriend who only thinks I'm hot

when I'm kissing some girl? Blech.”

"What about gay guys?”

Stevie sighed. "There are a few besides Damien, but

they're mostly too weird and girly for him. I feel bad for

him. I think he gets pretty lonely. His parents don't write or

anything.”

"The whole vampyre thing freaked them out?”

"No, they didn't really care about that. Actually,

don't say anything to Damien because it hurts his feelings,

but I think they were relieved when he was Marked. They

didn't know what to do with a son who is gay.”

"Why did they have to do anything? He's still their

son. He just likes guys.”

"Well, they live in Dallas, and his dad is big into the

People of Faith. I think he's some kind of minister or

something—”

I held up my hand. "Stop. You don't have to say

another word. I totally get it.” And I did. I was way too

acquainted with the narrow-minded, "our way is the only

right way" ideas of the People of Faith. Even thinking about

it made me feel exhausted and depressed.

Stevie Rae opened the door to the dorm. The livingroom area was empty except for a few girls who were

watching That '7os Show reruns. Stevie Rae waved absently

at them.

"Hey, do you want a pop or something to take

upstairs

with

us?"

I nodded and followed her through the living room and into

a

smaller room off to the side that had four refrigerators, a big

sink,

two microwaves, lots of cabinets, and a pretty white

wooden

table that sat in the middle of it—just like a regular kitchen,

only

this one was weirdly refrigerator-friendly. Everything was

neat and clean. Stevie Rae opened one of the fridges. I

peeked over her shoulder to see that it was filled with all

kinds of drinks— everything from pop to lots of juices and

that fizzy water that tastes nasty.

"What do you want?”

"Any brown pop is fine.” I said.

"This stuff is for all of us," she said as she handed

me two Diet Cokes and grabbed two Frescas for herself.

"There're fruit and veggies and stuff like that in those two

fridges, and lean meat for sandwiches in the other one.

They're kept full all the time, but the vamps are pretty

obsessed with us eating healthy, so you won't find bags of

chips or Twinkies or stuff like that.”

"No chocolate?”

"Yeah, there's some really expensive chocolate in

the cabinets. The vamps say chocolate in moderation is

good for us.”

Okay, so who the hell wants to eat chocolate in

moderation? I kept the thought to myself as we walked

back through the living room and headed upstairs to our

room.

"So the, uh, vamps"—I kinda stumbled over the

word—"are big on healthy eating?”

"Well, yeah, but I think basically just fledglings

eating healthy. I mean, you don't see fat vamps, but you also

don't see them chewing on celery and carrots and picking at

salads. Mostly they eat together in their own dining room,

and rumor has it that they eat well.” She glanced at me and

lowered her voice. "I heard that they eat a lot of red meat. A

lot of rare red meat.”

"Eeesh," I said, not liking the bizarre visual image I

suddenly got of Neferet gnawing on a bloody steak.

Stevie Rae shivered, and went on: "Sometimes

someone's mentor will sit with a fledgling at dinner, but

they usually have just a glass or two of wine and don't eat

with us.”

Stevie Rae opened the door and with a sigh I sat on

my bed and pulled off my shoes. God, I was tired. Rubbing

my feet I wondered about why the adult vamps didn't eat

with us, and then I decided I didn't really want to think

about that long. I mean, it brought to mind too many

questions like what are they really eating? And what will I

have to eat when/if I become an adult vamp? Ugh.

And, part of my brain whispered that it also made

me remember my reaction to Heath's blood yesterday. Had

that been only yesterday? And also my more recent

response to the blood of that guy in the hall. No. I definitely

didn't want to think about either of them—at all. So I

quickly refocused on the healthy-diet issue.

"Okay, they don't particularly care about eating

healthy, so what's the big obsession with us eating healthy?"

I asked Stevie Rae.

She met my eyes, looking worried and more than a

little scared.

"They want us to eat healthy for the same reason

they make us exercise every day—so that our bodies are as

strong as possible, because if you start getting weak or fat

or sick, that's the first sign that your body is rejecting the

Change.”

"And then you die," I said quietly.

"And then you die," she agreed.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I didn't think I'd sleep. I figured I'd lay there and

miss home and think about the bizarre twist my life had

taken. Disturbing flashes of the guy in the hall's eyes drifted

through my mind, but I was so tired I couldn't focus. Even

Aphrodite's psycho hatefulness was something else that

seemed sleepily far away. Actually, my last worries before I

could remember nothing else were about my forehead. Was

it feeling sore again because of the Mark and the cut over

my temple—or was it because I was getting a ginormic zit?

And would my hair look okay for my first day of vamp

school tomorrow? But as I curled up with my comforter and

inhaled the familiar smell of down feathers and home, I felt

unexpectedly safe and warm…and was totally out.

I didn't have a nightmare, either. Instead I dreamed

about cats. Go figure. Hot boys? No. Cool new vampire

powers? Of course not. Just cats. There was one in

particular—a small orange tabby who had little tiny paws

and a pot belly with a pouch that looked kinda marsupial.

She kept yelling at me in an old lady's voice and asking

what had taken me so long to get here. Then her cat voice

changed to an annoying buzzing beeping sound and I…

"Zoey, come on! Turn that stupid alarm clock off!”

"Who—, huh?" Oh, hell. I hate mornings. My hand

flailed about trying to find the off switch of my annoying

alarm clock.

Have I mentioned that I am totally, completely blind

without my contacts? I grabbed my nerdy glasses and

peeked at the time. Six thirty P.M., and I was just waking

up. Talk about bizarre.

"Do you want to take a shower first, or do you want

me to?" Stevie Rae asked sleepily.

"I will, if you don't care.”

"I don't…," She yawned.

" 'Kay.”

"We should hurry, though, 'cause, I don't know about

you, but I have to eat breakfast or I feel like I'm going to

starve to death before lunch.”

"Cereal?" I suddenly perked up. I seriously adore

cereal, and have an I [heart] CEREAL shirt somewhere to

prove it. I especially love Count Chocula—yet another

vampyre irony.

"Yeah, there're always lots of those tiny boxes of

cereal and bagels and fruit and hard-boiled eggs and stuff.”

"I'll hurry." Suddenly I was starving. "Hey, Stevie

Rae, does it matter what I wear?”

"Nope," she yawned again. "Just pick one of the

sweaters or jackets that show our third former symbol and

you'll be fine’

I did hurry, even though I was really nervous about

not looking right and I wished I could take hours doing and

redoing my hair and makeup. I used Stevie Rae's makeup

mirror while she was in the shower, and decided that underdoing was probably a better choice than over-doing. It was

weird how my Mark seemed to change the whole focus of

my face. I've always had nice eyes—big and round and

dark, with lots of lashes. So much that Kayla used to whine

about how unfair it was that I had enough lashes for three

girls and she only had short little blond ones. (Speaking of

…I did miss Kayla, especially this morning as I was getting

ready to go to a new school without her. Maybe I'd call her

later. Or e-mail her. Or…I remembered the comment Heath

had made about the party, and decided maybe not.) Anyway,

the Mark somehow made my eyes look even bigger and

darker. I lined them with a smoky black shadow that had

little sparkly flecks of silver in it. Not heavily like those

loser girls who think that plastering on black eyeliner makes

them look cool. Yeah, right. They look like scary raccoons.

I smudged the line, added mascara, brushed some bronzing

power over my face, and put on lip gloss (to hide the fact

that I'd been nervously picking at my lips).

Then I stared at myself.

Thankfully my hair was acting right, and even my

'weird widow's peak wasn't sticking all up crazily like it did

sometimes. I still looked…umm…different, but the same.

The effect my Mark had on my face hadn't faded. It made

everything that was ethnic about my features stand out: the

darkness of my eyes, my high Cherokee cheekbones, my

proud, straight nose, and even the olive color of my skin

that was like my grandma's. The sapphire Mark of the

Goddess seemed to have flipped a switch and spotlighted

those features; it had freed the Cherokee girl within me and

allowed her to shine.

"Your hair looks great," Stevie Rae said as she came

into the room toweling dry her short hair. "I wish mine

would act right when it's long. It doesn't. It just frizzes out

and looks like a horse's tail.”

"I like your short hair," I said, moving out of her

way and grabbing my cute sparkly black ballet flats.

"Yeah, well, it makes me a freak here. Everybody

has long hair.”

"I noticed, but I don't really get it.”

"It's one of the things that happens while we're

going through the Change. Vamps' hair grows abnormally

fast, just like their fingernails.”

I tried not to shudder as I remembered Aphrodite's

fingernail slashing through jeans and skin.

Thankfully, Stevie Rae was oblivious to my

thoughts, and kept on talking.

"You'll see. After a while you won't have to look at

their symbols to know what year they are. Anyway, you'll

learn all about that kind of stuff in Vamp Sociology class.

Oh! That reminds me." She rifled through some papers on

her desk until she found what she was looking for and

handed it to me. "Here's your schedule. We have third hour

and fifth hour together. And check out the list of electives

you have for second hour. You can choose from any of

them.”

My name was at the top of the schedule, printed in

bold letters, ZOEY REDBIRD, ENTERING THIRD

FORMER, as well as the date, which was five (?!) days

before the Tracker had Marked me.

1st hour—Vampyre Sociology 101. Rm. 215. Prof.

Neferet

2nd hour—Drama 101. Performing Arts Center.

Prof. Nolan

or

Sketching 101. Rm. 312. Prof. Doner

or

Intro to Music. Rm. 314. Prof. Vento

3rd hour—Lit 101. Rm. 214. Prof. Penthesilea

4th hour—Fencing. Gymnasium. Prof. D. Lankford

LUNCH BREAK

5th hour—Spanish 101. Rm. 216. Prof. Garmy

6th hour—Intro to Equestrian Studies. Field House.

Prof. Lenobia

"No geometry?" I blurted, totally overwhelmed by

the schedule, but trying to keep a positive attitude.

"No, thankfully. Next semester we'll have to take

economics, though. But that couldn't be as bad.”

"Fencing? Intro to Equestrian Studies?”

"I told you they like to keep us in shape. Fencing's

okay, even though it's hard. I'm not very good at it, but you

do get paired with upperclassmen a lot—kind of like peer

instructors, and I'm just sayin', some of those boys are just

plain hot! I'm not taking the horse class this semester—they

put me in Tae Kwan Do. And I have to tell ya, I love it!”

"Really?" I said doubtfully. Wonder what the horse

class would be like?

"Yep. Which elective are you going to pick?”

I glanced back down the list. "Which one are you

taking?”

"Intro to Music. Professor Vento is cool, and I,

uh…" Stevie Rae grinned and blushed. "I want to be a

country music star. I mean, Kenny Chesney, Faith Hill, and

Shania Twain are all vamps—and that's just three of them.

Heck, Garth Brooks grew up right here in Oklahoma and

you know he's the biggest vamp of them all. So I don't see

why I can't be one, too.”

"Makes perfect sense to me," I said. Why not?

"You want to take music with me?”

"That'd be fun if I could sing or play anything

resembling an instrument. I can't.”

"Oh, well, maybe not then.”

"Actually, I was thinking about the drama class. I

was in drama at SIHS, and I liked it okay. Do you know

anything about Prof. Nolan?”

"Yeah, she's from Texas and has a major accent, but

she studied drama in New York and everyone likes her.”

I almost laughed out loud when Stevie Rae

mentioned Prof. Nolan's accent. The girl twanged so bad

she sounded like an ad for a trailer park, but no way was I

gonna hurt her feelings by mentioning it.

"Well, then drama it is.”

"Okay, grab your schedule and let's go. Hey," she

said as we hurried out of the room and skipped down the

stairs, "maybe you'll be the next Nicole Kidman!”

Well, I guess being the next Nicole Kidman

wouldn't be bad (not that I plan on marrying and then

divorcing a manic short guy). Now that Stevie Rae

mentioned it, I hadn't really thought much about my future

career since the Tracker had thrown my life into complete

chaos, but now that I was actually thinking about it I still

really wanted to be a veterinarian.

An obese long-haired black and white cat sprinted

down the steps in front of us chasing a cat that looked like

its clone. With all these cats you'd think that there would

definitely be a need for vamp vets. (Hee hee…vamp vets…I

could call my clinic Vamp Vets, and the ads would read:

"We'll take your blood for free!")

The kitchen and living room were crowded with

girls eating and talking and hurrying around. I tried to

return some of the hellos I was getting as Stevie Rae

introduced me to what seemed like an impossibly confusing

stream of girls and keep my concentration on finding a box

of Count Chocula. Just when I was starting to worry, I

found it, hidden behind several massive boxes of Frosted

Flakes (not a bad second choice, but, well, they're not

chocolate and they don't have any yummy little

marshmallows). Stevie Rae poured a quick bowl of Lucky

Charms, and we perched at the kitchen table, eating fast.

"Hi, Zoey!”

That voice. I knew who it was before I saw Stevie

Rae duck her head and stare into her cereal bowl.

"Hi, Aphrodite," I said, trying to sound neutral.

"In case I don't see you later I wanted to be sure you

know where to go tonight. The Dark Daughters' Full Moon

Ritual will start at four A.M., right after the school's ritual.

You'll miss dinner, but don't worry about that. We'll feed

you. Oh, it's in the rec hall over by the east wall. I'll meet

you in front of Nyx's Temple before the school ritual so we

can go in together, and then I can show you the way to the

hall afterward.”

"Actually, I already promised Stevie Rae that I'd

meet her and we'd go to the school ritual together.” I really

hate pushy people. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that." I was pleased to

hear Stevie Rae lift her head and say.

"Hey, you know where the rec hall is, don't you?" I

asked Stevie Rae in my most perkily clueless voice.

"Yep, I do.”

"Then you can just show me how to get there, right?

And that means Aphrodite doesn't have to worry about me

getting lost.”

"Anything I can do to help," Stevie Rae chirped,

sounding like her old self.

"Problem solved," I said with a big smile at

Aphrodite.

"Okay. Fine. I'll see you at four A.M. Don't be late.”

She twitched off.

"If she shakes her butt any more when she walks

she's gonna break something," I said.

Stevie Rae snorted and almost spewed milk from

her nose. Coughing, she said, "Don't do that while I'm

eating!" Then she swallowed and smiled at me. "You didn't

let her boss you around.”

"Neither did you.” I slurped the last spoonful of

cereal. "Ready?”

"Ready. Okay, this'll be easy. Your first hour is right

next to my first hour. All of the third former core classes are

in the same hall Come on—I'll point you in the right

direction and you'll be set.”

We rinsed off our dishes and stuffed them in one of

the five dishwashers, then hurried outside into the darkness

of a beautiful fall evening. Jeesh, it was weird going to

school at night, even if my body was telling me that

everything was normal. We followed the flow of students

through one of the thick wooden doors.

"Third Former Hall is just over here," Stevie Rae

said, guiding me around a corner and up a short flight of

stairs.

"Is that a bathroom?" I asked as we hurried past

water fountains situated between two doors.

"Yep," she said. "Here's my class, and there's yours

right next door. See you after class!”

"Okay, thanks," I called.

At least the bathroom was close. If I had a case of

raging nervous-stomach diarrhea I wouldn't have far to run.

CHAPTER TWELVE

"Zoey! Over here!”

I almost cried in relief when I heard Damien's voice

and saw his hand waving at an empty desk next to him.

"Hi." I sat down and smiled gratefully at him.

"Are you ready for your first day?”

No.

I nodded. "Yep." I wanted to say more, but just then

a bell gave five quick rings and as the echo of it died

Neferet swept into the room. She was wearing a long black

skirt slit up the side to show great stiletto boots, and a deep

purple silk sweater. Over her left breast, embroidered in

silver, was the image of a goddess with her arms upraised,

hands cupping a crescent moon. Her black hair was pulled

back into a thick braid. The series of delicate wavelike

tattoos that framed her face made her look like an ancient

warrior priestess. She smiled at us and I could see that the

entire class was as caught as I was by her powerful

presence.

"Good evening! I've been looking forward to

beginning this unit. Delving into the rich sociology of the

Amazons is one of my favorites.” Then she gestured to me.

"It is excellent timing that Zoey Redbird has joined us

today. I am Zoey's mentor, so I'll expect my students to

welcome her. Damien, would you please get Zoey a

textbook? Her cabinet is next to yours. While you explain

our locker system to her I want the rest of you to journal

about what preconceived impressions you have of the

ancient vampyre warriors who are known as the Amazons.”

The typical paper rustling and student whispering

commenced while Damien led me to the back of the

classroom where there was a wall of cabinets. He opened

one that had the number "12" in silver on it. The cabinet

contained neat, wide shelves filled with textbooks and

supplies.

"At the House of Night there aren't lockers, like at

regular schools. Here, first hour is our homeroom and we

each have a cabinet of our own. The room will always be

open, so you come back here to get books and whatever,

just like you would go to a locker in the hall. Here's the

sociology book.”

He handed me a thick leather book with the

silhouette of a goddess stamped on the front of it along with

the title, Vampyre Sociology 101. I grabbed a notebook and

a couple of pens. When I shut the cabinet door I hesitated.

"Isn't there a lock or something?”

"No," Damien lowered his voice. "They don't need

locks here. If someone steals something, the vamps know it.

I don't even want to think about what would happen to

someone stupid enough to do that.”

We sat back down and I started to write about the

only thing I knew about the Amazons—that they were

warrior women who didn't have much use for men—but my

mind wasn't on my work. Instead, I was wondering why

Damien, Stevie Rae, and even Erin and Shaunee all freak

out about getting in trouble. I mean, I'm a good kid—okay,

not perfect, but still. I've only had detention once so far, and

that wasn't my fault. Really. Some turd boy told me to suck

his cock. What was I supposed to do? Cry? Giggle? Pout?

Umm . no… So instead I bitch-slapped him (although I

prefer just using the word smacked), and I got detention for

it.

Anyway, detention wasn't actually that bad. I got all

my homework done and started the new Gossip Girls book.

Clearly detention at the House of Night entailed more than

going to a teacher's classroom for forty-five minutes of

"quiet time" after school. I'd have to remember to ask Stevie

Rae…

"First, what pieces of the Amazon tradition do we

still practice at the House of Night?" Neferet asked,

drawing my attention back to class.

Damien raised his hand. "The bow of respect, with

our fist over our heart, comes from the Amazons, and so

does the way we shake hands—by gripping forearms.”

"Correct, Damien.”

Huh. That explained the funny handshake.

"So, what preconceived notions do you have about

the Amazon warriors?" she asked the class.

A blonde who sat on the other side of the room said,

"The Amazons were heavily matriarchal, as are all vampyre

societies." Jeesh, she sounded smart.

"That's true, Elizabeth, but when people discuss the

Amazons, legend tends to add an additional layer to history.

What do I mean by that?”

"Well, people—especially humans—think that the

Amazons were man-haters," said Damien.

"Exactly. What we know is that just because a

society is matriarchal, as ours is, it does not automatically

mean that it is anti-male. Even Nyx has a consort, the god

Erebus, to whom she is devoted. The Amazons were unique,

though, in that they were a society of vampyre women who

chose to be their own warriors and protectors. As most of

you already know, our society today is still matriarchal, but

we respect and appreciate the Sons of Night, and consider

them our protectors and consorts. Now, open your text to

Chapter Three and let's look at the greatest of the Amazon

warriors, Penthesilea, but be careful to keep legend and

history separate in your mind.”

And from there Neferet launched into one of the

coolest lectures I'd ever heard. I had no idea an hour had

passed; the ringing bell was a total surprise. I'd just shoved

my sociology book back into my cubbie (okay, I know that

Damien and Neferet called them cabinets, but come on—

they totally remind me of the cubbies we used to have in

kindergarten) when Neferet called my name. I grabbed a

notebook and a pen and hurried over to her desk.

"How are you?" she asked, smiling warmly.

"I'm okay. I'm good.” I said quickly.

She lifted an eyebrow at me.

"Well, I suppose I'm nervous and confused.”

"Of course you are. It's a lot to take in, and changing

schools is always difficult—let alone changing schools and

lives." She glanced over my shoulder. "Damien, would you

walk Zoey to Drama class?”

"Sure," Damien said.

"Zoey, I'll see you tonight at Ritual. Oh, and has

Aphrodite issued a formal invitation for you to join the

Dark Daughters in their private ceremony afterward?”

"Yes.”

"I wanted to double-check with you and make sure

that you feel fine about attending. I would, of course,

understand your reticence, but I encourage you to go; I want

you to take advantage of every opportunity here, and the

Dark Daughters is an exclusive organization. It is a

compliment that they already seem interested in you as a

possible pledge.”

"I'm fine with going." I forced my voice and my

smile to be nonchalant. Obviously she expected me to go,

and the last thing I wanted was for Neferet to be

disappointed in me. Plus, no way in hell was I going to do

anything that might make Aphrodite think I was scared of

her.

"Well done.” Neferet said with enthusiasm. She

squeezed my arm and I automatically smiled at her. "If you

need me my office is in the same wing as the infirmary."

She glanced at my forehead. "I see the stitches have almost

completely dissolved. That's excellent. Does your head still

hurt?”

My hand automatically found its way up to my

temple. I could only feel the prickle of a stitch or two today

when there had been at least ten yesterday. Very, very weird.

And, even weirder, I hadn't thought about the cut once this

morning.

I also realized I hadn't thought about my mom or

Heath or even Grandma Redbird.…

"No," I said, suddenly realizing Neferet and Damien

were waiting for me to answer. "No, my head doesn't hurt at

all.”

"Good! Well, you two better go before you're late. I

know you'll love Drama. I think Professor Nolan has just

begun working on monologues.”

I was halfway down the hall, hurrying to keep up

with Damien when it hit me.

"How did she know I was going to take Drama? I

just decided it this morning.”

"Adult vamps know way too much sometimes,"

Damien whispered. "Scratch that. Adult vamps know way

too much all the time, especially when that vamp is a High

Priestess.”

In light of what I hadn't been telling Neferet I didn't

want to think about that too long.

"Hey, y'all!" Stevie Rae rushed up. "How was Vamp

Soc? Did y'all start the Amazons?”

"It was cool." I was glad to change the subject from

the too mysterious vampyres. "I had no idea they really cut

off their right breasts to keep them out of the way.”

"They wouldn't have had to if they'd been as flat as

me," said Stevie Rae, looking down at her own chest.

"Or me," sighed Damien dramatically.

I was still giggling when they pointed me to the

Drama room.

Professor Nolan didn't ooze power like Neferet.

Instead she oozed energy. She had an athletic, but somehow

pear-shaped body. Her brunet hair was long and straight.

And Stevie Rae had been right—she had a serious Texas

twang.

"Zoey, welcome! Have a seat anywhere.”

I said hi and sat beside the Elizabeth girl I

recognized from Vamp Soc. She looked friendly enough

and I already knew she was smart. (It never hurts to sit next

to a smart kid.)

"We're just about to begin choosing the monologues

that each of you will present to the class sometime next

week. But first, I thought you'd like to have a demonstration

of how a monologue should be performed, so I asked one of

our talented upperclassmen to stop by and recite the famous

monologue from Othello, written by the ancient vampyre

playwright, Shakespeare.” Professor Nolan paused and

glanced out of the window in the door. "Here he is now.”

The door opened and oh my dear sweet lord I do

believe my heart totally stopped beating. I'm positive my

mouth flopped open like a moron. He was the most

gorgeous young lad I had ever seen. He was tall and had

dark hair that did that adorably perfect Superman curl thing.

His eyes were an amazing sapphire blue and…

Oh. Hell! Hell! Hell! It was the guy from the hall.

"Come on in, Erik. As usual, your entrance timing is

perfect. We are ready for your monologue." She turned back

to the class. "Most of you already know fifth former, Erik

Night, and are aware that he won last year's worldwide

House of Night monologue competition, the finals of which

were held in London. He is also already creating a buzz in

Hollywood as well as on Broadway for his performance last

semester as Tony in our production of West Side Story. The

class is all yours, Erik." Prof Nolan beamed.

As if my body were suddenly on automatic, I

clapped with the rest of the class. Smiling and confident,

Erik stepped up on the little stage that was situated front

and center in the large, airy classroom.

"Hi. How are you guys doing?”

He spoke directly to me. I mean, directly to me. I

could feel my face getting really hot.

"Monologues seem intimidating, but the key is to

get your lines down, and then to imagine that you're

actually acting with a full cast of actors. Trick yourself into

thinking you're not up here all alone, like this…”

And he began the monologue from Othello. I don't

know much about the play, except that it's one of

Shakespeare's tragedies, but Erik's performance was

amazing. He was a tall guy, probably at least six feet, but as

he began to speak he seemed to get bigger and older and

more powerful. His voice deepened and he took on an

accent I couldn't place. His incredible eyes darkened and

narrowed into slits, and when he said Desdemona's name it

was like he was praying. It was obvious he loved her, even

before he spoke the concluding lines:

She loved me for the dangers I had passed, And I

loved her that she did pity them.

As he said the last two lines his eyes locked with

mine and, just like in the hall the day before, it seemed as if

there was no one else in the room—no one else in the

world. I felt a shiver deep inside of something very much

like what I'd felt the two times I'd smelled blood since I'd

been Marked, only no blood had been spilled in the room.

There was only Erik. And then he smiled, touched his lips

to his fingers as though he was sending me a kiss, and

bowed. The whole class clapped like crazy, including me.

Really. I couldn't help it.

"Now, that's how it's done," Professor Nolan said.

"So, there are copies of monologues in the red bookshelves

at the rear of the class. Each of you take several books and

begin looking through them. What you're trying to find is a

scene that means something to you—that touches some part

of your soul. I'll be circulating and can answer any

questions you have about individual monologues. Once

you've chosen your pieces, I'll go through the steps you'll

need to take as you prepare your own presentation.” With

an energetic smile and nod, she motioned for us to start

looking through the zillions of monologue books.

I still felt flushed and short of breath, but I got up

with the rest of the class, even though I couldn't help

peeking at Erik over my shoulder. He was (unfortunately)

leaving the room, but not before he turned and caught me

gawking at him. I blushed (again). He met my eyes and

smiled directly at me (again). And then he was gone.

"He's so f-ing hot," someone whispered in my ear. I

turned and, shockingly, Ms. Perfect Student Elizabeth was

staring after Erik and fanning herself.

"Doesn't he have a girlfriend?" I blurted like an

idiot.

"Only in my dreams," Elizabeth said. "Actually,

word has it that he and Aphrodite used to be hooked up, but

I've been here for a few months and it's been over between

them at least that long. Here ya go," she tossed a couple of

monologue books at me. "I'm Elizabeth, no last name.”

My face was a question mark.

She sighed. "My last name was Titsworth. Can you

imagine? When I got here a few weeks ago and my mentor

explained that I could change my name to whatever I

wanted it to be, I knew I was going to get rid of the

Titsworth part, but then the whole issue of picking a new

last name just stressed me too much. So I decided I'd keep

my first name and not hassle with a last name." Elizabeth

No Last Name shrugged.

"Well, hi," I said. There were really some odd kids

here.

"Hey," she said as we went back to our desks. "Erik

was looking at you.”

"He was looking at everyone," I said, even though I

could feel my stupid face getting all hot and red again.

"Yeah, but he was really looking at you." She

grinned and added, "Oh, I think your colored-in Mark is

cool.”

"Thanks." It probably looked weird as hell on my

beet-red face.

"Any questions about choosing a monologue,

Zoey?" Professor Nolan asked, making me jump.

"No, Professor Nolan. I've done them before in

drama at SIHS.”

"Very good. Let me know if I can clarify setting or

character for you." She patted me on the arm and kept

moving around the room. I opened up the first book and

started to flip through the pages, trying (unsuccessfully) to

forget about Erik and concentrate on monologues.

He had been looking at me. But why? He must have

known that it had been me in the hall. So what kind of

interest in me was he showing? And did I want a guy to like

me who had been getting a blow job from the hateful

Aphrodite? I probably shouldn't. I mean, I definitely wasn't

going to take up where she left off. Or maybe he was just

curious about my freakishly colored-in Mark, like

practically everybody else was.

But it hadn't seemed like it…it had seemed like he'd

been looking at me. And I'd liked it.

I glanced down at the book I'd been ignoring. The

page was open to the subchapter: Dramatic Monologues for

Women. The first monologue on the page was from Always

Ridiculous by Jose Echegaray.

Well, hell. It was probably a sign.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I actually found my way to Lit class by myself.

Okay, so it was just on the other side of Neferet's room, but

still I felt a little more confident when I didn't have to ask to

be led around like the helpless idiot new kid.

"Zoey! We saved a desk for ya!" Stevie Rae yelled

the instant I got to class. She was sitting beside Damien,

and practically hopping up and down with excitement. She

looked like a happy puppy again, which made me smile. I

was really glad to see her. "So, so, so! Tell me everything!

How was Drama? Did you like it? Do you like Professor

Nolan? Isn't her tattoo cool? It reminds me of a mask—

kinda.”

Damien grabbed Stevie Rae's arm. "Breathe and let

the girl answer.”

"Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"I guess Nolan's tattoos are cool," I said.

"You guess?”

"Well, I was distracted.”

"What?" she said. Then her eyes narrowed. "Did

someone embarrass you about your Mark? I swear people

are just plain rude.”

"No, that wasn't it. Actually that Elizabeth No Last

Name girl said she thought it was cool. I was distracted

because, well…" I was feeling my face get hot again. I'd

decided that I was going to ask them about Erik, but now

that I'd started talking I wondered whether I should say

anything. Should I tell them about the hall?

Damien perked up. "I feel a juicy tidbit coming on.

Come on, Zoey. You were distracted becauuuuse?" He drew

the word out into a question.

"Okay, okay. I can sum it up in two words: Erik

Night.”

Stevie Rae's mouth dropped open and Damien did a

little pretend swoon, which he had to straighten up from

right away because at that moment the bell rang and

Professor Penthesilea swept into the room.

"Later!" Stevie Rae whispered.

"Absolutely!" Damien mouthed.

I smiled innocently. If nothing else I was sure that I

would love the fact that mentioning Erik would drive them

crazy all hour.

Lit class was an experience. First of all, the

classroom itself was totally different than any I'd ever seen.

There were bizarrely interesting posters and paintings and

what looked like original art work filling every inch of wall

space. And hanging from the ceiling were wind chimes and

crystals—lots of them. Professor Penthesilea (whose name I

now recognized from Vamp Soc class as belonging to the

most revered of all the Amazons, and who everyone called

Prof P) was like something out of the movies (well, the

ones on the Sci-Fi Channel). She had seriously long

reddish-blond hair, big hazel eyes, and a curvy body that

probably made all the guys drool (not that it's very hard to

make teenage boys drool). Her tattoos were thin, pretty

Celtic knots that traced their way down her face and around

her cheekbones, making them look high and dramatic. She

was wearing expensive-looking black slacks and a mosscolored silk cardigan sweater set that had the same goddess

figure embroidered over her breast as Neferet had been

wearing. And, now that I thought about it (and not Erik), I

realized Prof Nolan's blouse had the goddess embroidered

on the breast pocket of her blouse, too. Hmmm…

"I was born in April of year 1902," Professor

Penthesilea said, instantly grabbing our attention. I mean,

please, she barely looked thirty. "So I was ten years old in

April of 1912, and I remember the tragedy very well. About

what am I speaking? Do any of you have any idea?”

Okay, I knew exactly what she was talking about,

but it wasn't because I'm a hopeless history nerd. It's

because when I was younger I thought I was in love with

Leonardo DiCaprio, and my mom got me the entire DVD

collection of his movies for my twelfth birthday. This

particular movie I watched so many times I still have most

of it memorized (and I can not tell you how many times I

snot cried when he slipped off that board and floated away

like an adorable Popsicle).

I looked around. No one else seemed to have a clue,

so I sighed and raised my hand.

Prof P smiled and called on me, "Yes, Miss

Redbird.”

"The Titanic sank in April of 1912. It was struck by

the iceberg late on Sunday night, the fourteenth, and sank

just a few hours later on the fifteenth.”

I heard Damien suck air beside me, and Stevie Rae's

little huh. Jeesh, had I really been acting so stupid that they

were shocked to hear me answer a question correctly?

"I do love it when a new fledgling knows

something?" Professor Penthesilea said. "Absolutely

correct, Miss Redbird. I was living in Chicago at the time of

the tragedy, and I will never forget the newsies shouting the

tragic headlines from the street corners. It was a horrid

event, especially because the loss of lives was so

preventable. It also signaled the end of one age and the

beginning of another, as well as bringing about many muchneeded changes in shipping laws. We are going to study all

of this, plus the deliciously melodramatic events of the

night, in our next piece of literature, Walter Lord's

meticulously researched book, A Night to Remember.

Although Lord was not a vampyre—and it's really a shame

he wasn't," she added under her breath, "I still find his take

on the night compelling and his writing style and tone

interesting and very readable. Okay, let's get started! The

last person in each row, get books for the people in your

row from the long cabinet in the back of the room.”

Well, cool! This was definitely more interesting than

reading Great Expectations (Pip, Estella, who cares?!). I

settled in with A Night to Remember and my notebook

opened to take, well, notes. Prof P started to read Chapter

One aloud to us, and she was actually a good reader. Three

class hours almost over and I'd liked all of them. Was it

possible that this vamp school would actually be more than

a boring place I went to every day because I had to and,

besides that, all my friends were there? Not that all of the

classes at SIHS had been boring, but we didn't get to study

the Amazons and the Titanic (from a teacher who'd been

alive when it sank!).

I glanced around at the other kids while Prof P read.

There were about fifteen of us, which seemed about the

average in my other classes, too. All of them had their

books open and were paying attention.

Then my eye was caught by something red and

bushy on the other side of the room near the rear of the

class. I'd spoken too soon—not all of the kids were paying

attention. This one had his head down on his arms and he

was sound asleep, which I knew because his chubby, waytoo-white-and-freckled face was turned in my direction. His

mouth was open, and I think he might have been drooling a

little. I wondered what Prof P would do to the kid. She

didn't seem like the kind of teacher who would be cool with

some slug sleeping in the back of the room, but she just

kept on with her reading, interspersed with interesting

firsthand facts about the early twentieth century, which I

really liked (I loved hearing about the flappers—I would

definitely have been a flapper if I'd lived in the 192os). It

wasn't until the bell was about to ring and Prof P had

assigned the next chapter as homework, and then told us we

could talk quietly amongst ourselves, that she acted as if she

noticed the sleeping kid at all. He'd started to stir, finally

lifting up his head to display the bright red sleeping circle

that was on the side of his forehead and looked bizarrely out

of place beside his Mark.

"Elliott, I need to see you," Prof P said from behind

her desk. The kid took his time getting up and then dragged

his feet, scuffing his untied shoes, over to her desk.

"Yeah?”

"Elliott, you are, of course, failing Lit. But what's

more important, you're failing life. Vampyre males are

strong, honorable, and unique. They have been our warriors

and protectors for countless generations. How do you

expect to make the Change into a being who is more

warrior than man if you do not practice the discipline it

takes even to stay awake in class?”

He shrugged his soft-looking shoulders.

Her expression hardened. "I shall give you one

opportunity to make up the zero for class participation you

received today by writing a short paper on any issue that

was important in America in the early twentieth century.

The paper is due tomorrow.”

Without saying anything, he started to turn away.

"Elliott," Prof P's voice had dropped and, thick with

irritation, it made her sound way scarier than she'd seemed

while she had been reading and lecturing. I could feel the

power radiating from her, and it made me wonder why she

would ever need a male anything to protect her. The kid

stopped and turned back to face her.

"I did not excuse you. What is your decision about

doing the work to make up today's zero?”

The kid just stood there without saying anything.

"That question calls for an answer, Elliott. Now!"

The air around her crackled with the command, making the

skin on my arms tingle.

Seemingly unaffected, he shrugged again. "I

probably won't do it.”

"That says something about your character, Elliott,

and it's not something good. You're not only letting yourself

down, but you're letting down your mentor, too.”

He shrugged again and absently picked his nose.

"The Dragon already knows how I am.”

The bell rang and Prof P, with a disgusted look on

her face, motioned for Elliott to leave the room. Damien,

Stevie Rae, and I had just stood up and were starting to

walk out the door when Elliott slouched by us, moving

more quickly than I believed possible for someone so slothlike. He bumped into Damien, who was ahead of us.

Damien made an oops sound and stumbled a little.

"Fucking faggot, get outta my way," the loser kid

snarled, pushing Damien with his shoulder so he could get

through the door before him.

"I should smack the crap out of that jerk!" Stevie

Rae said, hurrying up to Damien, who was waiting for us.

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it. That

Elliott kid has major problems.”

"Yeah, like having poopie for brains," I said, staring

down the hall at the slug's back. His hair was certainly

unattractive.

"Poopie for brains?" Damien laughed and linked

one arm though mine and one through Stevie Rae's, leading

us down the hall Wizard of Oz fashion. "That's what I like

about our Zoey," he said. "She has such a way with vulgar

language.”

"Poopie's not vulgar," I said defensively.

"I think that's his point, honey," Stevie Rae laughed.

"Oh." I laughed, too, and I really, really liked how it

sounded when he'd said "our" Zoey . like I belonged…like I

might be home.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Fencing was totally cool, which was a surprise.

Class was held in a huge room off the gym that looked like

a dance studio, complete with a floor-to-ceiling wall of

mirrors. Hanging from the ceiling along one side were

weird life-sized manikins that reminded me of threedimensional shooting targets. Everyone called Professor

Lankford Dragon Lankford, or just Dragon. It didn't take

me long to figure out why. His tattoo represented two

dragons whose bodies, serpent-like, wrapped down over his

jaw line. Their heads were over his brows and their mouths

were open, breathing fire at the crescent moon. It was

amazing and hard not to stare at. Plus, Dragon was the first

male adult vampyre I'd seen up close. At first he confused

me. I guess if you'd asked me what I expected from a male

vampyre I would have said his opposite. Honestly, I had the

movie-star vampyre stereotype in mind— tall, dangerous,

handsome. You know, like Vin Diesel. Anyway, Dragon is

short, has long blondish hair that he pulls back in a low

ponytail, and (except for the fierce looking dragon tattoo)

has a cute face with a warm smile It was only when he

began leading the class through its warm-up exercises that

I began to realize his power. From the instant he held the

sword (which I later found out was called an epee) in the

traditional salute he seemed to become someone else—

someone who moved with unbelievable quickness and

grace. He feinted and lunged and effortlessly made the rest

of the class—even the kids who were pretty good, like

Damien—look like awkward puppets. When he finished

leading the warm-ups, the Dragon paired everyone off and

had them work on what he called "the standards." I was

relieved when he motioned for Damien to be my partner.

"Zoey, it's good to have you join the House of

Night," Dragon said, shaking my hand in the traditional

Amazon vampyre greeting. "Damien can explain the

different parts of the fencing uniform to you, and I'll get

you a handout to study over the next few days. I am

assuming you've had no previous instruction in the sport?”

"No, I haven't," I said, and then added nervously,

"but I'd like to learn. I mean, the whole idea of using a

sword is just cool.”

Dragon smiled. "Foil," he corrected, "you'll be

learning how to use a foil. It's the lightest weight of the

three types of weapons we have here, and an excellent

choice for women. Did you know that fencing is one of the

very few sports where women and men can compete on

entirely equal terms?”

"No," I said, instantly intrigued. How cool would it

be to kick a guy's butt at a sport?!

"This is because the intelligent and focused fencer

can successfully compensate for any perceived deficiencies

he or she may have, and may even be able to turn those

deficiencies—such as strength or reach—into assets. In

other words, you may not be as strong or as fast as your

opponent, but you could be smarter or able to remain

focused better, which will tip the scales in your favor. Right,

Damien?”

Damien grinned. "Right.”

"Damien is one of the most focused fencers I've had

the privilege to coach in decades, which makes him a

dangerous opponent.”

I snuck a sideways glance at Damien, who flushed

with pride and pleasure.

"For the next week or so I'll have Damien drill you

in the opening maneuvers. Always remember, fencing

requires a mastery of skills that are sequential and

hierarchical in nature. If one of the skills is not acquired,

subsequent skills will be very difficult to master and the

fencer will be at a permanent and serious disadvantage.”

"Okay, I'll remember,” I said. Dragon smiled

warmly again before he moved off to work his way among

each practicing pair.

"What he means is don't get discouraged or bored if

I make you do the same exercise over and over.”

"So what you're really saying is that you're going to

be annoying, but there's a purpose behind it?”

"Yep. And part of that purpose will help lift that cute

little butt of yours,” he said sassily, tapping me with the side

of his foil.

I slapped at him and rolled my eyes, but after twenty

minutes of lunging and settling back into the beginning

stance and lunging— over and over again—I knew he was

right. My butt would be killing me tomorrow.

We took quick showers after class (thankfully, there

were separate curtain-draped stalls for each of us in the

girls' locker room and we didn't have to barbarically and

tragically shower in a huge open area like we were prison

inmates or whatever) and then I hurried with the rest of the

crowd to the lunch room—better known as the dining hall.

And I do mean hurry. I was starving.

Lunch was a huge build-your-own salad buffet,

which included everything from tuna salad (eesh) to those

weird mini-corns that are so confusing, and don't even taste

like corn. (What exactly are they? Baby corn? Midget corn?

Mutant corn?) I piled my plate high and got a big hunk of

what looked and smelled like freshly baked bread, and slid

into the booth beside Stevie Rae, with Damien following

close behind me. Erin and Shaunee were already arguing

over something to do with whose essay for their Lit class

was better, even though they'd both gotten 96 on their

papers.

"So, Zoey, give. What about Erik Night?" Stevie

Rae asked the instant I'd forked a big bite of salad into my

mouth. Stevie Rae's words immediately shut up the Twins

and focused the entire table's attention on me.

I'd thought about what I was going to say about

Erik, and decided that I wasn't ready to tell anyone about

the unfortunate blow-job scene. So I just said, "He kept

looking at me." When they frowned at me I realized that

through my salad mouth what I'd really said was "He keffft

looookn at mmm." I swallowed and tried again. "He kept

looking at me. In Drama class. It was just, I dunno,

confusing.”

"Define 'looking at me’," Damien said.

"Well, it happened the second he came into class,

but it was especially noticeable when he was giving us an

example of a monologue. He did this thing from Othello,

and when he said the line about love and such, he stared

straight at me. I would have thought it was just an accident

or something, but he looked at me before he started the

monologue, and then again as he was leaving the room." I

sighed and squirmed a little, uncomfortable with their way

too piercing looks. "Never mind. It was probably just part

of his act.”

"Erik Night is the hottest damn thing at this entire

school," Shaunee said.

"Forget that—he's the hottest damn thing on this

planet," Erin said.

"He's not hotter than Kenny Chesney," Stevie Rae

said quickly.

"Okay, just please with your country obsession!"

Shaunee frowned at Stevie Rae before turning her attention

back to me. "Do not let this opportunity pass you by.”

"Yeah," Erin echoed. "Do not.”

"Pass me by? What am I supposed to do? He didn't

even say anything to me.”

"Uh, Zoey honey, did you smile back at the boy?"

Damien asked.

I blinked. Had I smiled back at him? Ah, crap. I bet I

hadn't. I bet I just sat there and stared like a moron and

maybe even drooled. Okay, well, I might not have drooled,

but still. "I dunno," I said instead of the sad truth, which

didn't fool Damien at all.

He snorted. "Next time smile at him.”

"And maybe say hi," Stevie Rae said.

"I thought Erik was a just pretty face," Shaunee said.

"And body," Erin added.

"Until he dumped Aphrodite," Shaunee continued.

"When he did that I realized the boy might have something

going on upstairs."

"We can already tell he has it going on downstairs!"

Erin said, waggling her eyebrows.

"Uh-huh!" Shaunee said, licking her lips like she

was contemplating eating a big piece of chocolate.

"You two are gross," Damien said.

"We only meant that he has the cutest butt in town,

Miss Priss," Shaunee said.

"As if you haven't noticed," Erin said.

"If you started talking to Erik it would really piss off

Aphrodite." Stevie Rae said.

Everyone turned and stared at Stevie Rae as if she'd

just parted the Red Sea or something.

"It's true," Damien said.

"Very true," Shaunee said while Erin nodded.

"So the rumor is he used to go out with Aphrodite," I

said.

"Yep," Erin said.

"The rumor is grotesque but true," Shaunee said.

"Which makes it even better that now he likes you!”

"Guys, he was probably just staring at my weird

Mark,” I blurted.

"Maybe not. You're really cute, Zoey," Stevie Rae

said with a sweet smile.

"Or maybe your Mark made him look, and then he

thought you were cute so he kept looking,” Damien said.

"Either way, his looking will definitely piss

Aphrodite off," Shaunee said.

"Which is a good thing,” Erin said.

Stevie Rae waved away their comments. "Just forget

about Aphrodite and your Mark and all that other stuff.

Next time he smiles at you, say hi. That's all.”

"Easy,” Shaunee said.

"Peasy," Erin said.

"Okay,” I mumbled and went back to my salad,

wishing desperately that the whole Erik Night issue was as

easy-peasy as they thought it was.

One thing about lunch at the House of Night was the

same as lunch at SIHS or any other school I'd ever eaten at

—it was over too soon. And then Spanish class was a blur.

Profesora Garmy was like a little Hispanic whirlwind. I

liked her right away (her tattoos looked oddly like feathers,

so she reminded me of a little Spanish bird), but she ran the

class speaking entirely in Spanish. Entirely. I should

probably mention here that I haven't had Spanish since

eighth grade, and I freely admit to not paying much

attention to it then. So I was pretty lost, but I wrote down

the homework and promised myself that I'd study the vocab

words. I hate being lost.

Intro to Equestrian Studies was held in the Field

House. It was a long, low brick building over by the south

wall, attached to a huge indoor riding arena. The whole

place had that sawdusty, horsey smell that mixed with

leather to form something that was pleasant, even though

you know that part of the "pleasant" scent was poopie—

horse poopie.

I stood nervously with a small group of kids just

inside the corral where a tall, stern-faced upperclassman

had directed us to wait. There were only about ten of us,

and we were all third formers. Oh, (great) that annoying

redheaded Elliott kid was slouching against the wall kicking

at the sawdust floor. He raised enough dust to make the girl

standing closest to him sneeze. She threw him a dirty look

and moved a few steps away. God, did he irritate everyone?

And why couldn't he use some product (or perhaps a comb)

on that nappy hair?

The sound of hooves drew my attention from Elliott

and I looked up in time to see a magnificent black mare

pounding into the corral at full gallop. She slid to a stop a

couple feet in front of us. While we all gawked like fools,

the mare's rider dismounted gracefully. She had thick hair

that reached to her waist and was so blond it was almost

white, and eyes that were a weird shade of slate gray. Her

body was tiny, and the way she stood reminded me of those

girls who obsessively take dance classes so that even when

they're not in ballet they stand like they have something

stuck way up their butts. Her tattoo was an intricate series

of knots entwined around her face—within the sapphire

design I was sure I could see plunging horses.

"Good evening. I am Lenobia, and this," she pointed

at the mare and gave our group a contemptuous look before

finishing the sentence, "is a horse." Her voice rang against

the walls. The black mare blew through her nose as if to

punctuate her words. "And you are my new group of third

formers. Each of you has been chosen for my class because

we believe you might possibly have an aptitude for riding.

The truth is that less than half of you will last the semester,

and less than half of those who last will actually develop

into decent equestrians. Are there any questions?" She

didn't pause long enough for anyone to ask anything.

"Good. Then follow me and you shall begin." She turned

and marched back into the stable. We followed.

I wanted to ask who the "we" were who thought I

might have an aptitude for riding, but I was scared to say

anything and just scrambled after her like everyone else.

She came to a halt in front of a row of empty stalls Outside

of them were pitchforks and wheelbarrows. Lenobia turned

to face us.

"Horses are not big dogs. Nor are they a little girl's

romanticized dream image of a perfect best friend who will

always understand you.”

Two girls standing beside me fidgeted guiltily and

Lenobia skewered them with her gray eyes.

"Horses are work. Horses take dedication,

intelligence, and time. We'll begin with the work part. In the

tack room down this hall you'll find mucking boots. Choose

a pair quickly, while we all get gloves. Then each of you

take your own stall and get busy.”

"Professor Lenobia?" said a chubby girl with a cute

face, who raised her hand nervously.

"Lenobia will do. The name I chose in honor of the

ancient vampyre queen needs no other title.”

I didn't have a clue who Lenobia was, and made a

mental note to look it up.

"Go on. You have a question, Amanda?”

"Yeah, uh, yes.”

Lenobia raised one brow at the girl.

Amanda swallowed noisily. "Get busy doing what,

Profes—, I mean, Lenobia, ma'am?”

"Cleaning out stalls, of course. The manure goes in

the wheelbarrows. When your barrow is full you can dump

it in the compost area on the wall side of the stables. There

is fresh sawdust in the storage room beside the tack room.

You have fifty minutes. I'll be back in forty-five to inspect

your stalls!’

We all blinked at her.

"You may commence. Now.”

We commenced.

Okay. Really. I know it's going to sound weird, but I

didn't mind cleaning out my stall. I mean, horse poopie just

isn't that gross. Especially because it was obvious that these

stalls were cleaned out like every other instant of the day. I

grabbed the mucking boots (which were big rubber

galoshes—totally ugly, but they did cover my jeans all the

way up to my knees) and a pair of gloves and got to work.

There was music playing through excellent loudspeakers—

something that I was pretty sure was Enya's latest CD (my

mom used to listen to Enya before she married John, but

then he decided that it might be witch music so she quit,

which is why I'll always like Enya). So I listened to the

haunting Gaelic lyrics and pitch-forked up poopie. It didn't

seem that hardly any time had passed when I was dumping

the wheelbarrow and then filling it with clean sawdust. I

was just smoothing it around the stall when I got that

prickly feeling that someone was watching me.

"Good job, Zoey.”

I jumped and whirled around to see Lenobia

standing just outside my stall. In one hand she was holding

a big, soft curry brush. In the other she was holding the lead

rope of a doe-eyed roan mare.

"You've done this before," Lenobia said.

"My grandma used to have a really sweet gray

gelding I named Bunny," I said before I realized how stupid

I sounded. Cheeks hot, I hurried on, "Well, I was ten, and

his color reminded me of Bugs Bunny, so I started calling

him that and it stuck.”

Lenobia's lips tilted up in the barest hint of a smile.

"It was Bunny's stall you cleaned?”

"Yeah. I liked to ride him, and Grandma said that no

one should ride a horse unless they clean up after one." I

shrugged. "So I cleaned up after him.”

"Your grandmother is a wise woman.”

I nodded.

"And did you mind cleaning up after Bunny?”

"No, not really.”

"Good. Meet Persephone," Lenobia nodded her head

at the mare beside her. "You've just cleaned her stall.”

The mare came into the stall and walked straight up

to me, sticking her muzzle in my face and blowing gently,

which tickled and made me giggle. I rubbed her nose and

automatically kissed the warm velvet of her muzzle.

"Hi there, Persephone, you pretty girl.”

Lenobia nodded in approval as the mare and I got to

know each other.

"There are only about five minutes left before the

bell rings for school to end, so it is not necessary that you

stay as part of today's class, but if you'd like, I believe you

have earned the privilege of brushing Persephone.”

Surprised, I looked up from patting the horse's neck.

"No problem, I'll stay," I heard myself saying.

"Excellent. You can return the brush to the tack

room when you've finished. I'll see you tomorrow, Zoey."

Lenobia handed me the brush, patted the mare, and left us

alone in the stall.

Persephone stuck her head in the metal rack that

held fresh hay, and got to work chewing, while I got to

work brushing. I'd forgotten how relaxing it was to groom a

horse. Bunny had died of a sudden and very scary heart

attack two years ago, and Grandma had been too upset to

get another horse. She'd said that "the rabbit" (which is

what she used to call him) couldn't be replaced. So it had

been two years since I'd been around a horse, but it came

back to me instantly—all of it. The smells, the warm,

soothing sound of a horse eating, and the gentle shoosh the

curry brush made as it slid over the mare's slick coat.

At the edge of my attention I vaguely heard

Lenobia's voice, sharp and angry, as she totally chewed out

a student I guessed was the annoying redheaded kid. I

peeked over Persephone's shoulder and took a quick look

down the stall line. Sure enough, the redheaded kid was

slouched in front of his stall. Lenobia stood beside him,

hands on her hips. Even from the side view I could see she

was mad as hell. Was it that kid's mission to piss off every

teacher here? And his mentor was Dragon? Okay, the guy

looked nice, until he picked up a sword—uh, I mean foil—

then he shifted from nice guy to deadly-dangerousvampyre-warrior-guy.

"That redheaded slug kid must have a death wish," I

told Persephone as I returned to her grooming. The mare

twitched an ear back at me and blew through her nose.

"Yep, I knew you'd agree. Wanta hear my theory about how

my generation could single-handedly wipe out slugs and

loser kids from America?" She seemed receptive, so I

launched into my Don't Procreate with Losers speech.…

"Zoey! There you are!”

"Ohmygod! Stevie Rae! You scared the poo out of

me!" I patted and reassured Persephone, who had shied

when I'd squealed. "What in the world are ya doin'?”

I waggled the curry brush in her direction. "What

does it look like I'm doing, Stevie Rae, getting a pedicure?”

"Stop messing around. The Full Moon Ritual is

gonna start in like two minutes?”

"Ah, hell!" I gave Persephone one more pat and

hurried out of the stall to the tack room.

"You forgot all about it, didn't you?" Stevie Rae

said, holding my hand to help me balance while I kicked

my feet out of the rubber boots and put my cute little ballet

slippers back on.

"No," I lied.

Then I realized that I'd also forgotten all about the

Dark Daughters' ritual afterward.

"Ah, hell!”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

About halfway to Nyx's Temple I realized that

Stevie Rae was being unusually quiet. I glanced sideways at

her. Was she also looking pale? I got a creepy walk-overyour-grave feeling.

"Stevie Rae, is something wrong?”

"Yeah, well, it's sad and kinda scary.”

"What is? The Full Moon Ritual?" My stomach

started to hurt.

"No, you'll like that—or at least you'll like this one."

I knew she meant, versus the Dark Daughters' ritual I had to

go to afterward, but I didn't want to talk about that. Stevie

Rae's next words made the whole issue of the Dark

Daughters seem like a small, secondary problem. "A girl

died last hour.”

"What? How?”

"How they all die. She didn't make the Change, and

her body just…" Stevie Rae paused, shuddering. "It

happened near the end of Tae Kwan Do class. She'd been

coughing, like she was short of breath at the beginning of

our warm-up exercises. I didn't think anything of it. Or

maybe I did, but I put it out of my mind.”

Stevie Rae gave me a small, sad smile and she

looked ashamed of herself.

"Is there any way to save a kid? After, you know,

they start—" I broke off and made a vague, uncomfortable

gesture.

"No. There's no way you can be saved if your body

starts to reject the Change.”

"Then don't feel bad about not wanting to think

about the girl who was coughing. There's nothing you could

have done anyway.”

"I know. I just…it was awful. And Elizabeth was so

nice.”

I felt a sharp jolt somewhere in the middle of my

body. "Elizabeth No Last Name? She's the girl who died?”

Stevie Rae nodded, blinking hard and obviously

trying not to cry.

"That's horrible," I said, my voice so weak it was

almost a whisper. I remembered how considerate she'd been

about my Mark, and how she'd noticed Erik looking at me.

"But I just saw her in Drama class. She was fine.”

"That's how it happens. One second the kid sitting

next to you looks perfectly normal. The next…" Stevie Rae

shivered again.

"And everything's going to go on like normal? Even

though someone at the school just died?" I remembered that

last year, when a group of sophomores from SIHS had been

in a car accident one weekend and two of them had been

killed, extra counselors had been called in to school on

Monday and all the athletic events had been cancelled for

that week.

"Everything goes on like normal. We're supposed to

get used to the idea that it might happen to anyone. You'll

see. Everyone will act like nothing happened, especially

upperclassmen. It's just third formers and good friends of

Elizabeth, like her roommate, who will show any reaction at

all. The third formers—that's us— are supposed to act right

and get over it. Elizabeth's roommate and best friends will

probably keep to themselves for a couple days, but then

they'll be expected to get it together.” She lowered her

voice, "Truthfully, I don't think the vamps think of any of us

as real until we actually Change.”

I thought about this. Neferet didn't seem to treat me

like I was temporary—she'd even said that it was an

excellent sign that my Mark was colored in already, not that

I was as confident as she seemed to be about my future. But

I absolutely was not going to say anything that might sound

as if Neferet was giving me special treatment. I didn't want

to be "the weird one." I just wanted to be Stevie Rae's friend

and fit in with my new group.

"That's really awful," was all I said.

"Yeah, but at least if it happens, it happens fast.”

Part of me wanted to know the details, and part of

me was too scared even to ask the question.

Thankfully, Shaunee interrupted before I could

make myself ask what I was really too freaked out to want

to know.

"Just please with the taking so long," Shaunee called

from the front steps of the temple. "Erin and Damien are

already inside saving a place in the circle for us, but you

know that once the ritual starts they won't let anyone else

in. Hurry up!”

We rushed up the steps, and with Shaunee leading

us, hurried into the temple. Sweet, smoky incense engulfed

me as I entered the dark arched foyer of Nyx's Temple.

Automatically, I hesitated. Stevie Rae and Shaunee turned

to me.

"It's okay. There's nothing to be nervous or scared

about." Stevie Rae met my eyes and added, "At least

nothing in there.”

"The Full Moon Ritual is great. You'll like it. Oh,

when the vamp traces the pentagram on your forehead and

says 'blessed be' all you have to do is say 'blessed be' back

to her," Shaunee explained. "Then follow us over to our

place in the circle.” She smiled reassuringly at me and

hurried ahead into the dimly lit interior room.

"Wait." I grabbed Stevie Rae's sleeve. "I don't want

to sound stupid, but isn't a pentagram a sign of evil or

something like that?”

"That's what I thought, too, until I got here. But all

that evil stuff is bull that the People of Faith want you to

believe so that…Heck," she said with a shrug, "I'm not even

sure why they're so set on people—well, humans that is—

believing that it's an evil sign. The truth is that for like a

zillion years the pentagram has stood for wisdom,

protection, perfection. Good stuff like that. It's just a five-pointed star. Four of the points stand for the elements. The

fifth, the one that points up, stands for the spirit. That's all it

is. No boogieman there.”

"Control.” I muttered, glad we had a reason to quit

talking about Elizabeth and death.

"Huh?”

"The People of Faith want to control everything, and

part of that control is that everyone has to always believe

exactly the same. That's why they want people to think the

pentagram is bad." I shook my head in disgust. "Never

mind. Come on. I'm readier than I thought I was. Let's go

in.”

We walked deeper into the foyer and I heard running

water. We passed a beautiful fountain, and then the

entryway curved gently to the left. Within a thick, arched

stone doorway stood a vampyre I didn't recognize. She was

dressed entirely in black—a long skirt and a silky, bellsleeved blouse. The only decoration she had on was the

silver embroidered goddess figure over her breast. Her hair

was long and the color of wheat. Sapphire-colored spirals

radiated from her crescent moon tattoo to down around her

flawless face.

"That's Anastasia. She teaches the Spells and Rituals

class. She's also Dragon's wife,” Stevie Rae whispered

quickly before she stepped up to the vampyre and

respectfully placed her fist over her heart.

Anastasia smiled and dipped her finger in a rock

bowl she was holding. Then she traced a five-pointed star

on Stevie Rae's forehead.

"Blessed be, Stevie Rae," she said.

"Blessed be,” Stevie Rae responded. She gave me an

encouraging look before she disappeared into the smoky

room beyond.

I took a deep breath and made a conscious decision

to put all thoughts of Elizabeth and death and what-ifs out

of my mind— at least during this ritual. I moved

purposefully into the space in front of Anastasia. Mimicking

Stevie Rae, I placed my closed fist over my heart.

The vampyre dipped her finger in what I could now

see was oil. "Merry meet, Zoey Redbird, welcome to the

House of Night and your new life," she said as she traced

the pentagram on my forehead over my Mark. "And blessed

be.”

"Blessed be," I murmured, surprised at the electric

shiver that passed through my body when the damp star had

taken form on my forehead.

"Go on in and join your friends," she said kindly.

"There's no need to be nervous, I believe the Goddess is

already looking after you.”

"Th-thank you," I said, and hurried into the room.

There were candles everywhere. Huge white ones

suspended from the ceiling in iron chandeliers. Big candle

trees held more of them and were lined along the walls. In

the temple, sconces didn't burn oil tamely in lanterns, like in

the rest of the school. Here the sconces were real. I knew

that this place used to be a People of Faith church dedicated

to St. Augustine, but it looked like no church I'd ever seen

before. Besides being lit only by candlelight, there were no

pews. (And, by the way, I really dislike pews—could they

be any more uncomfortable?) Actually, the only furniture in

the big room was an antique wooden table situated in the

center that was kinda like the one in the dining hall—only

this one wasn't just loaded with food and wine and such.

This one also held a marble statue of the Goddess, arms

upraised and looking a lot like the embroidered design the

vamps wore. There was a huge candelabrum on the table, its

fat white candles burning brightly, as well as several thick

sticks of smoking incense.

Then my eyes were caught by the open flame

burning from out of a recess in the stone floor. It flickered

wildly, its yellow fire almost waist high. It was beautiful, in

a controlled danger kind of a way, and it seemed to draw me

forward. Thankfully, Stevie Rae's waving hands snagged

my attention before I could follow my impulse to approach

the flame, and then I noticed, wondering how I could have

failed to see this from the beginning, that there was a huge

circle of people—students as well as adult vamps—

stretching around the edges of the room. Feeling nervous

and awestruck at the same time, I made my feet move so I

could take my place in the circle beside Stevie Rae.

"Finally,” Damien said under his breath.

"Sorry we're late.” I said.

"Leave her alone. She's nervous enough as it is,"

Stevie Rae told him.

"Sssh! It's starting,” Shaunee hissed.

Four forms seemed to materialize from within the

darkened corners of the room to become women who made

their way to four spots just within the living circle, like the

directions on a compass. Two more entered from the

doorway through which I'd just come. One was a tall man—

well, scratch that—male vampyre (all of the adults were

vamps), and, ohmygod, he was hot. Now, here was an

excellent example of the stereotype of the gorgeous vamp

guy, up close and personal. He was over six feet tall and

looked like he belonged on the big screen.

"And there is the only reason I'm taking that damn

Poetry elective," Shaunee whispered.

"I'm with you there, Twin," Erin breathed dreamily.

"Who is he?" I asked Stevie Rae.

"Loren Blake, Vamp Poet Laureate. He's the first

male Poet Laureate in two hundred years. Literally," she

whispered. "And he's only like twenty-something, and that's

in real years, not just in looks.”

Before I could say anything else, he started to speak

and my mouth was too busy flopping open at the sound of

his voice for me to do anything but listen.

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies…

As he spoke he moved slowly toward the circle. As

if his voice was music, the woman who had entered the

room with him began to sway, and then to dance gracefully

around the outside of the living circle.

And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes…

The dancing woman had everyone's attention. With

a jolt I realized that it was Neferet. She was wearing a long

silk dress that had tiny crystal beads sewn all over it, so that

the candlelight caught each of her movements and made her

shimmer like the star-filled night sky. Her movements

seemed to call alive the words of the old poem (at least my

mind was still working well enough that I recognized it as

Lord Byron's "She Walks in Beauty").

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

Somehow both Neferet and Loren managed to end

up in the center of the circle as he finished reciting the

stanza. Then Neferet took a goblet from the table and lifted

it, as if offering a drink to the circle.

"Welcome Nyx's children to the Goddess's

celebration of the full moon!”

The adult vamps chorused, "Merry meet.”

Neferet smiled and put the goblet back on the table

and picked up a long white taper that was already lit and

sitting in a single candlestick holder. Then she walked

across the circle to face a vamp I didn't know who was

standing at what must be the head of the circle. The vamp

saluted her, hand over breast, before turning around so that

her back was to Neferet.

"Psst!" Stevie Rae whispered. "We all face each of

the four directions as Neferet evokes the elements and casts

Nyx's circle. East and air come first.”

Then everyone, including me even though I was

kinda slow, turned to face east. Out of the corner of my eye

I could see Neferet raise her arms over her head as her

voice rang against the stone walls of the temple.

"From the east I summon air and ask that you carry

to this circle the gift of knowledge that our ritual will be

filled with learning.”

The instant Neferet began speaking the invocation I

felt the air change. It moved around me, ruffling my hair

and filling my ears with the sound of wind sighing through

leaves. I looked around, expecting to see that everyone else

had been caught in a mini-whirlwind, but didn't notice

anyone else's hair getting messed up. Weird.

The vamp who was standing in the east pulled a

thick yellow candle from the folds of her dress, and Neferet

lit it. She lifted it into the air, and then placed it, flickering,

at her feet.

"Turn to the right, for fire," Stevie Rae whispered

again.

We turned and Neferet continued. "From the south I

summon fire and ask that you light in this circle the gift of

strength of will, so that our ritual will be binding and

powerful.”

The wind that had been blowing softly against me

was replaced by a sensation of heat. It wasn't exactly

uncomfortable; it was more like the flush you feel when

you step into a hot tub, but it was warm enough to make a

light sweat break out over my body. I glanced at Stevie Rae.

She had her head raised slightly and her eyes were closed.

There was no sign of sweat on her face. The intensity of the

heat suddenly jumped up a notch, and I looked back at

Neferet. She had lit a large red candle that Penthesilea was

holding. Then, as the east-facing vamp had done,

Penthesilea lifted it up in offering before placing it by her

feet.

This time I didn't need Stevie Rae's nudging to turn

again to my right and face west. Somehow, I knew not just

that we needed to turn, but that the next element to be

summoned would be water.

"From the west I summon water and ask that you

wash this circle in compassion, that the light of the full

moon can be used to bestow healing to our group as well as

understanding.”

Neferet lit the west-facing vamp's blue candle. The

vamp lifted it, and placed it at her feet as the sound of

waves filled my ears and the salty scent of the sea filled my

nose. Eagerly, I completed the circle by facing north and

knew I'd be embracing earth.

"From the north I summon earth and ask that you

grow within this circle the gift of manifestation, that the

wishes and prayers from tonight will come to fruition.”

Suddenly I could feel the softness of a grassy

meadow under my feet, and I smelled hay and heard

birdsong. A green candle was lit and placed at "earth"'s feet.

I should have probably been afraid of the odd

sensations breaking over me, but they filled me with an

almost unbearable lightness—I felt good! So good that

when Neferet faced the flame that burned in the middle of

the room and the rest of us turned to the interior of the

circle I had to press my lips tightly together to keep from

laughing out loud. The drop-dead gorgeous poet was

standing across the fire from Neferet and I could see that he

was holding a big purple candle in his hands.

"And last, I summon spirit to complete our circle

and ask that you fill us with connection, so that as your

children we may prosper together.”

Unbelievably, I felt my own spirit leap, like there

were bird wings fluttering around inside my chest, as the

poet lit the candle from the huge flame and then placed it on

the table. Then Neferet began to move around within the

circle, speaking to us, meeting our eyes, including us in her

words.

"This is the time of the fullness of the moon. All

things wax and wane, even Nyx's children, her vampyres.

But on this night the powers of life, of magick, and of

creation are at their brightest—as is our Goddess's moon.

This is the time of building…of doing.”

My heart was beating hard as I watched Neferet

speak, and I realized with a little start that she was actually

giving a sermon. This was a worship service, but the casting

of the circle and Neferet's words coupled to touch me like

no other sermon had ever even begun to do. I glanced

around. Maybe it was the setting. The room was misty with

incense and magical in the flickering candlelight. Neferet

was everything a High Priestess should be. Her beauty was

a flame of its own, and her voice was a magic that held

everyone's attention. No one was slumped down in a pew

sleeping or sneakily doing sudoku.

"This is a time when the veil between the mundane

world and the strange and beautiful realms of the Goddess

become thin indeed. On this night may one transcend the

boundaries of the worlds with ease, and know the beauty

and enchantment of Nyx.”

I could feel her words wash against my skin and

close my throat. I shivered and the Mark on my forehead

suddenly felt warm and tingly. Then the poet began to speak

in his deep, powerful voice.

"This is a time for weaving the ethereal into being,

of spinning the strands of space and time to bring forth

Creation. For life is a circle as well as a mystery. Our

Goddess understands this, as does her consort, Erebus.”

As he spoke I felt better about Elizabeth's death.

Suddenly it didn't seem so scary, so horrible. It seemed

more like a part of the natural world, a world that we all had

a place in.

"Light…dark…day…night…death…life…all is tied

together by spirit and the touch of the Goddess. If we keep

the balance and look to the Goddess we can learn to weave

a spell of moonlight and fashion with it a fabric of pure

magical substance to keep with us all the days of our lives.”

"Close your eyes, Children of Nyx," Neferet said

"and send a secret desire to your Goddess. Tonight, when

the veil between the worlds is thin—when magic is afoot

within the mundane— perhaps Nyx will grant your

petitions and dust you with the gossamer mist of dreams

fulfilled.”

Magic! They actually were praying for magic!

Would it work—could it work? Was there really magic in

this world? I remembered the way my spirit had been able

to see words and how the Goddess had called me with her

visible voice down into the crevasse and then kissed my

forehead and changed my life forever. And how, just

moments ago, I'd felt the power of Neferet's calling of the

elements. I hadn't imagined it—I couldn't have imagined it.

I closed my eyes and thought about the magic that

seemed to surround me, and then I sent up my wish into the

night. My secret wish is that I belong…that I have finally

found a home no one can take away from me.

Despite the unusual warmth of my Mark, my head

felt light and unimaginably happy as Neferet called for us to

open our eyes and, in a voice that was at the same time soft

and powerful— woman and warrior combined—she

continued the ritual.

"This is a time of traveling unseen in the full

moonlight. A time to listen for music not fashioned by

human or vampyre hands. It is a time for oneness with the

winds that caress us" — Neferet bowed her head slightly to

the east—"and the bolt of lightning that mimics the spark of

first life.” She tilted her head to the south. "It is a time to

revel in the eternal sea and the warm rains that soothe us, as

well as the verdant land that surrounds and keeps us." She

acknowledged the west and north in turn.

And each time Neferet named an element it felt as

though a jolt of sweet electricity sizzled through my body.

Then the four women who personified the elements

moved as one to the table. With Neferet and Loren, each of

them lifted a goblet.

"All hail, O Goddess of Night and the full moon!"

Neferet said. "All hail Night, from whom our blessings

come. On this night we give thanks to thee!”

Still holding the goblets, the four women scattered

back to their places in the circle.

"In the mighty name of Nyx," Neferet said.

"And of Erebus," the poet added.

"We ask from within your sacred circle that you give

us the knowledge to speak the language of the wilds, to fly

with the freedom of the bird, to live the power and grace of

the feline, and to find an ecstasy and joy in life that would

stir the very heights of our being. Blessed be!”

I couldn't stop grinning. I'd never heard stuff like

this in church before, and I sure as hell had never felt so

energized there, either!

Neferet drank from the goblet she held, and then she

offered it to Loren, who drank from it and said "blessed be."

Mirroring their actions, the four women moved quickly

around the circle, allowing each person, fledgling and adult,

to drink from a goblet. When it was my turn I was happy to

see the familiar face of Penthesilea offer me a drink and a

blessing. The wine was red and I expected it to be bitter,

like the sip of my mom's hidden Cabernet I tried once (and

definitely did not like), but it wasn't. It was sweet and spicy

and it made my head feel even lighter.

When everyone had been given a drink, the goblets

were returned to the table.

"Tonight I want each of us to spend at least a

moment or two alone in the light of the full moon. Let its

light refresh you and help you to remember how

extraordinary you are…or you are becoming." She smiled

at some of the fledglings, including me. "Bask in your

uniqueness. Revel in your strength. We stand separate from

the world because of our gifts. Never forget that, because

you may be sure the world never will. Now let us close the

circle and embrace the night.”

In reverse order, Neferet thanked each element and

sent them away as each candle was blown out, and as she

did so I felt a little twinge of sadness, like I was saying

good-bye to friends. Then she completed the ritual by

saying, "This rite is ended. Merry meet and merry part and

merry meet again!”

The crowd echoed: "Merry meet and merry part and

merry meet again!”

And that was it. My first ritual of the Goddess was

over.

The circle broke up quickly—more quickly than I

would have liked it to. I wanted to stand there and think

about the amazing things I had felt, especially during the

calling of the elements, but that was impossible. I was

carried out of the temple on a tide of chatter. I was glad that

everyone was so busy talking that no one noticed how quiet

I was; I didn't think I could explain to them what had just

happened to me. Hell! I couldn't even explain it to myself.

"Hey, you think they'll have Chinese food again

tonight? I just loved it last full moon when they had that

yummy moo goo stuff afterward," Shaunee said. "Not to

mention, my fortune cookie said 'You will make a name for

yourself,' which is way cool.”

"I'm so starved I don't care what they feed us as long

as they feed us," Erin said.

"Me too," Stevie Rae said.

"For once we are in perfect agreement," Damien

said, linking arms with Stevie Rae and me. "Let's eat.”

And suddenly, that reminded me. "Uh, guys." That

nice tingly feeling the ritual had given me was gone. "I can't

go. I have to—"

"We're morons." Stevie Rae thumped herself on the

forehead hard enough to make a smacking sound. "We

totally forgot."

"Ah, crap!" Shaunee said.

"The hags from hell," Erin said.

"Want me to save you a plate of something?"

Damien asked sweetly.

"No. Aphrodite said they're going to feed me.”

"Probably raw meat," Shaunee said.

"Yeah, from some poor kid she caught in her nasty

spider web," Erin said.

"By that she means the one between her legs,"

Shaunee explained.

"Stop, you're freaking Zoey out," Stevie Rae said as

she started nudging me toward the door. "I'll show her

where the rec hall is, then I'll meet you guys at our table.”

Outside I said, "Okay, tell me that they're kidding

about the raw meat.”

"They're kidding?" Stevie Rae said unconvincingly.

"Great. I don't even like my steak rare. What am I

going to do if they really do try to feed me raw meat?" I

refused to think about what kind of raw meat it might be.

"I think I have a Tums somewhere in my purse. Do

you want it?" Stevie Rae asked.

"Yeah," I said, already feeling nauseous.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"That's it." Stevie Rae had stopped, looking

uncomfortable and apologetic in front of the steps that led

to a round brick building situated on a little hill overlooking

the eastern part of the wall surrounding the school. Huge

oaks wrapped it in darkness within darkness, so I could

barely make out flickers of either gas or candles lighting up

the entrance. Not one speck of light was coming from the

darkened windows that were long and arched and seemed to

be made of stained glass.

"Okay, well, thanks for the Tums." I tried to sound

brave. "And save a place for me. This really can't take that

long. I should be able to get done here and join you guys for

dinner.”

"Don't rush. Really. You might meet someone you

like and want to hang out. Don't worry about it if you do. I

won't be mad and I'll just tell Damien and the Twins that

you're reconnoitering.”

"I'm not going to become one of them, Stevie Rae.”

"I believe you," she said, but her eyes looked

suspiciously big and round.

"So I'll see you soon.”

"'Kay. See you soon," she said, and started to follow

the sidewalk back to the main building.

I didn't want to watch her walk away—she looked

all forlorn and spanked puppy-like. Instead I climbed up the

steps and told myself that this was going to be no big deal

—nothing worse than the time my Barbie sister talked me

into going to cheerleading camp with her (I don't know

what the hell I'd been thinking). At least this fiasco wouldn't

last a week. They'll probably cast another circle, which was

actually very cool, do some unusual praying like Neferet

did, and then break for dinner. That would be my cue to

smile nicely and slip out. Easy-peasy.

The torches on either side of the thick wooden door

were lit by gas and not the raw flame sconces used in Nyx's

Temple. I reached my hand toward the heavy iron knocker,

but, with a sound that was disturbingly like a sigh, it opened

away from my touch.

"Merry meet, Zoey.”

Oh. My. God. It was Erik. He was wearing all black,

and his dark, curly hair and his insanely blue eyes reminded

me of Clark Kent—well, okay, without the dorky glasses

and the nerdy slicked-back hair…so…I supposed that

would mean he actually reminded me (again) of Superman

—well, without the cape or tights or the big S…

Then the babble in my mind totally shut itself up

when his oil-dampened finger slid over my forehead,

tracing the five points of the pentagram.

"Blessed be," he said.

"Blessed be," I replied, and would be eternally

grateful that my voice didn't croak or crack or squeak. Ah,

man, he smelled good, but I couldn't place what he smelled

like. It wasn't any of the tired, overused colognes guys

apply by the gallon. He smelled like…he smelled like…the

forest at night just after it's rained…something earthy and

clean and…

"You can come on in," he was saying.

"Oh, uh, thanks," I said brilliantly. I stepped inside.

And then I stopped. The interior was all one big room. The

circular-shaped walls were draped in black velvet, totally

blocking the windows and the silver moonlight. I could see

that under the heavy curtains there were weird shapes,

which started to freak me out until I realized that—hello—

it's a rec room. They must have shoved the TVs and game

stuff to the sides of the room and covered them so

everything would look, well, creepier. Then my attention

was captured by the circle itself. It was situated in the

middle of the room and made up entirely of candles in tall

red glass containers, like the prayer candles you can buy in

the Mexican foods section of the grocery store that smell

like roses and old ladies. There must have been more than a

hundred of them and they lit up the kids who were standing

in a loose circle behind them talking and laughing with a

ghostly light that was tinted red. The kids were all wearing

black and I noticed right away that none of them were

wearing any embroidered rank insignias, but each had a

thick silver chain that glittered around their necks from

which an odd symbol dangled. It looked like two crescent

moons positioned back to back against a full moon.

"There you are, Zoey!”

Aphrodite's voice slid across the room just ahead of

her body. She was wearing a long black dress that flashed

with onyx beading, reminding me weirdly of a dark version

of Neferet's beautiful gown. She had on the same necklace

as the others, but hers was bigger and outlined in red jewels

that might have been garnets. Her blond hair was loose and

draped around her like a gold veil. She was entirely too

pretty.

"Erik, thanks for making Zoey welcome. I can take

it from here." She sounded normal, and she even rested her

manicured fingertips on Erik's arm for a second in what the

uninformed might think of as just a friendly gesture, but her

face told a different story. It was set and cold, and her eyes

seemed to blaze into his. Erik barely gave her a look, and he

definitely moved his arm away from her touch. Then he

gave me a quick smile and, without glancing at Aphrodite

again, walked away.

Great. Exactly what I didn't need was to get in the

middle of a nasty breakup. But I couldn't seem to help the

fact that my eyes followed him across the room.

Stupid me. Again. Sigh.

Aphrodite cleared her throat, and I tried

(unsuccessfully) not to look like I'd been caught doing

something I shouldn't have been doing. Her slick, mean

smile said there was absolutely no doubt that she'd noticed

my interest in Erik (and his interest in me). And, again, I

wondered if she knew it had been me in the hall the day

before.

Well, it wasn't like I could ask her.

"You need to hurry, but I brought something for you

to change into." Aphrodite was talking quickly as she

motioned for me to follow her to the girls' restroom. She

threw me a disgusted look over her shoulder. "It's not like

you can come to a Dark Daughters' ritual dressed like that."

Once we were in the bathroom she brusquely handed me a

dress that had been hanging from one of the partitions and

kinda pushed me into the stall. "You can put your clothes on

the hanger and carry them back to the dorm like that.”

There didn't seem to be any arguing with her and,

anyway, I felt like an outsider enough as it was. Being

dressed differently made me feel like I'd shown up at a

party dressed like a duck, but no one had told me it wasn't a

costume party so everyone else was wearing jeans.

I quickly got out of my clothes and slid the black

dress over my head, sighing with relief when it fit. It was

simple but flattering. The material was the soft clingy stuff

that never wrinkles. It had long sleeves and a round

neckline that showed most of my shoulders (good thing I'd

worn my black bra). All around the neckline, the edge of the

long sleeves, and the hem, which was right above my knee,

were sewn little red sparkly beads. It really was pretty. I

slipped my shoes back on thinking, happily, that a nice pair

of ballet flats can go with just about any outfit, and stepped

out of the stall.

"Well, at least it fits." I said.

But I noticed Aphrodite wasn't looking at the dress.

She was looking at my Mark, which bugged the crap out of

me. Okay, my Mark is colored in—get over it already! I

didn't say anything, though. I mean, this was her "party"

and I was a guest. Translation: I was totally outnumbered,

so I better be good.

"I'll be leading the ritual, of course, so I'm gonna be

too busy to hold your hand through it.”

Okay, I should've just kept my mouth shut, but she

was wearing on my last nerve. "Look, Aphrodite, I don't

need to you hold my hand.”

Her eyes narrowed and I braced myself for another

psycho girl scene. Instead she smiled a totally non-nice

smile that made her look like a snarling dog. Not that I was

calling her a bitch, but the analogy seemed scarily accurate.

"Of course you don't need your hand held. You'll

just breeze right through this little ritual like you've breezed

through everything else here. I mean, after all, you are

Neferet's new favorite.”

Wonderful. On top of the Erik issue and the

weirdness over my Mark issue, she was jealous that Neferet

was my mentor.

"Aphrodite, I don't think I'm Neferet's new favorite.

I'm just new." I tried to sound reasonable, and I even

smiled.

"Whatever. So, are you ready?”

I gave up trying to reason with her and nodded,

wishing this whole ritual thing would hurry up and be over.

"Fine. Let's go." She led me out of the rest room and

over to the circle. I recognized the two girls we walked up

to as two of the "hags from hell" who had followed her

around in the cafeteria. Only instead of wearing pursedface, I-just-ate-a-lemon expressions, they were smiling

warmly at me.

No. I wasn't fooled. But I made my face smile, too.

When in enemy territory it's best to blend in and look

inconspicuous and/or stupid.

"Hi, I'm Enyo," said the taller of the two. She was,

of course, blonde, but her long, flowing locks were more

the color of waving wheat than gold. Although in the

candlelight it was hard to be sure which cliché was a more

appropriate description. And I still didn't believe she was a

natural blonde.

"Hi," I said.

"I'm Deino," said the other girl. She was obviously

mixed and had a gorgeous combination of really pretty,

coffee-with-lots-of-cream skin and excellent thick, curly

hair, which probably had never had the nerve to nap up on

her for an instant, no matter the humidity.

The two of them were freakishly perfect.

"Hi," I said again. Feeling more than a little

claustrophobic, I moved into the space they'd created

between them.

"You three enjoy the ritual," Aphrodite said.

"Oh, we will!" Enyo and Deino said together. The

three of them shared a look that made my skin crawl. I

turned my attention away from them before my better

judgment won out over my pride and I bolted from the

room.

I had a good view of the inner area of the circle now,

and again it was similar to the one in Nyx's Temple, except

this one had a chair pulled up beside the table and there was

someone sitting in it. Well, kinda sitting. Actually, the

whoever was slumped down with the hood of a cloak

covering his or her head.

Well…hmmm…

Anyway, the table was draped with the same black

velvet as the walls, and there was a Goddess statue on it, a

bowl of fruit and bread, several goblets, and a pitcher. And

a knife. I squinted to be sure I was seeing right. Yep. It was

a knife—it had a bone handle and a long, wicked curving

blade that looked entirely too sharp to be used for cutting

fruit or bread safely. A girl I thought I recognized from the

dorm was lighting several fat sticks of incense that sat in

ornately carved incense holders on the table, and totally

ignoring whoever was slumped in the chair. Jeesh, was the

kid asleep?

Immediately the air began to fill with smoke that I

swear was green-tinged and curled, ghostlike, around the

room. I expected it to smell sweet, like the incense at Nyx's

Temple, but when a feathery wisp of smoke reached me and

I breathed it in I was surprised by its bitterness. It was kinda

familiar and I frowned, trying to figure out what it reminded

me of…crap, what was it? It was almost like bay leaf, with

a clovey middle. (I had to remember to thank Grandma

Redbird later for teaching me about spices and their smells.)

I sniffed again, intrigued, and my head felt a little woozy.

Weird. Okay, the incense was odd. It seemed to change as it

filled the room, like expensive perfume that changes with

each person who wears it. I breathed in again. Yep. Clove

and bay, but there was something at the end of it; something

that made the scent finish tangy and bitter…dark and mystic

and alluring in its…naughtiness.

Naughtiness? Then I knew.

Well, hell! They were filling the room with pot

smoke mixed with spices. Unbelievable. I'd stood up to peer

pressure and for years said no to even the most polite offers

to try one of those gross-looking homemade joints that get

passed around at parties and whatnot. (I mean, please. Is

that even sanitary? And just exactly why would I want to do

a drug that made me want to obsessively eat fattening snack

foods?) And now here I stood, immersed in pot smoke.

Sigh. Kayla would never believe it.

Then, feeling paranoid (probably another side effect

of the pot invasion) I looked around the circle, sure I'd see a

professor who was ready to leap in and haul us all away

to…to…I dunno, something unspeakably horrid, like the

boot camp Maury sends all of his troubled teen guests to.

But, thankfully, unlike the circle in Nyx's Temple,

there were no adult vamps here, and only about twenty kids.

They were talking quietly and acting like the totally illegal

marijuana incense was no big deal. (Pot heads.) Trying to

breathe shallowly, I turned to the girl to my right. When in

doubt (or panic), make small talk.

"So…Deino is a, well, different name. Does it mean

something special?”

"Deino means terrible;" she said, smiling sweetly.

From my other side the tall blonde chimed in

perkily, "And Enyo means warlike.”

"Huh," I said, trying hard to be polite.

"Yeah, Pemphredo, which means wasp, is the one

lighting the incense," explained Enyo. "We got the names

from Greek mythology. They were the three sisters of the

Gorgon and Scylla. Myth says they were born as hags who

shared an eye, but we decided that was probably just

bullshit male-dominant propaganda written by human men

who wanted to keep strong women down.”

"Really?" I didn't know what else to say. Really.

"Yeah," Deino said. "Human men suck.”

"They should all die," Enyo said.

On that lovely thought the music suddenly started,

making it impossible (thankfully) to talk.

Okay, the music was disturbing. It had a deep,

pulsing beat that was ancient as well as modern. Like

someone had mixed one of those nasty bootie-humping

songs with a tribal mating dance. And then, much to my

shock, Aphrodite began to dance her way around the circle.

Yes, I suppose you could say she was hot. I mean, she had a

good body and she moved like Catherine Zeta-Jones in

Chicago. But somehow it didn't work for me. And I don't

mean because I'm not gay (even though I'm not gay). It

didn't work because it seemed like a crude imitation of

Neferet's dance to "She Walks in Beauty." If this music was

a poem it would be more like "Some Ho Grinds Her

Bootie.”

During Aphrodite's crotch-flailing display everyone

was, naturally, staring at her, so I looked around the circle,

pretending that I wasn't really looking for Erik, until…oh,

crap…I found him almost directly opposite me. And he was

the one kid in the room not watching Aphrodite. He was

watching me. Before I could figure out whether I should

look away, smile at him or wave or whatever (Damien had

said to smile at the kid, and Damien was a self-proclaimed

expert on guys), the music stopped and I looked from Erik

to Aphrodite. She was standing in the middle of the circle in

front of the table. Purposefully, she picked up a big purple

pillar candle in one hand, and the knife in another. The

candle was lit, and she carried it, holding it in front of her

like a beacon, to the side of the circle where I now noticed

one yellow candle nestled amongst the red ones. I didn't

need any prodding from Warlike or Terrible (yeesh) to turn

to the east. As wind ruffled my hair, from the corner of my

vision I could see that she had lit the yellow candle and now

she raised the knife, slashing a pentagram in the air as she

spoke:

O winds of storm,

in Nyx's name I do call thee forth,

cast thy blessing, I do ask,

upon the magic which shall be worked here!

I will admit that she was good. Though not as

powerful as Neferet, it was obvious that she'd practiced

voice control and the silky sound of her words carried

easily. We turned to the south and she approached the large

red pillar candle among the other red ones, and I could feel

what I was already recognizing as the power of the fire and

the magic circle wash over my skin.

O fire of lightning, in Nyx's name I do call thee

forth, bringer of storms and power of magic, I ask your aid

in the spell I do here work!

We turned again and, along with Aphrodite, I felt

flushed and unexpectedly drawn to the blue candle that

nestled within the red ones. Even though it thoroughly

freaked me out, I had to keep myself from stepping from

circle and joining her in the invocation of water.

O torrents of rain, in Nyx's name I do call thee

forth. Join me with your drowning strength, in performing

this most powerful of rituals!

What in the hell was wrong with me? I was

sweating and instead of feeling just a little warm, like

during the earlier ritual, the Mark on my forehead was hot

—burning hot—and I swear I could hear the roar of the sea

in my ears. Numbly, I turned again to the right.

O earth, deep and damp, in Nyx's name I do call

thee forth, that I may feel the earth herself move in the roar

of the storm of power which doth come when you aid me in

this rite!

Aphrodite sliced the air again, and I could feel the

palm of my right hand tingle, as if it ached to hold the knife

and cut the air.

I smelled cut grass and heard the cry of a

whippoorwill, like it was nesting invisibly in the air beside

me. Aphrodite moved back to the center of the circle.

Placing the still-burning purple candle back on its place in

the middle of the table she completed the casting.

O spirit, wild and free, in Nyx's name I do call thee

to me! Answer me! Stay with me during this mighty ritual

and grant me thy Goddess's power!

And somehow I knew what she was going to do

next. I could hear the words inside my mind—inside my

own spirit. When she raised the goblet and began walking

around the circle I felt her words, and even though she

didn't have the poise and power of Neferet what she said

ignited within me, like I was burning from the inside out.

"This is the time of the fullness of our Goddess's

moon. There is magnificence to this night. The ancients

knew the mysteries of this night, and used them to

strengthen themselves…and to split the veil between worlds

and have adventures we only dream about today. Secret…

mysterious…magical…true beauty and power in vampyre

form—not tainted by human rules or law. We are not

humans!" With this, her voice did ring against the walls,

very much as Neferet's had earlier. "And all your Dark

Daughters and Sons ask tonight in this rite is what we have

petitioned each full moon for the past year. Free the power

within us so that, like the mighty felines of the wild, we

know the lithe suppleness of our animal brethren and we are

not bound by human chains or caged by their ignorant

weaknesses.”

Aphrodite had stopped right in front of me. I knew I

was flushed and breathing hard, just as she was. She raised

the goblet and offered it to me.

"Drink, Zoey Redbird, and join us in asking Nyx for

what is ours by the right of blood and body and the Mark of

the great Change—the Mark that she has already touched

you with.”

Yes, I know. I should have probably said no. But

how? And suddenly I didn't want to. I definitely didn't like

or trust Aphrodite, but wasn't what she was saying basically

true? My mother and stepfather's reactions to my Mark

came back hard and clear in my memory, along with

Kayla's look of fear and Drew's and Dustin's revulsion. And

how no one had called me, or even text-messaged me,

since I'd been gone. They'd just let me be dumped here to

deal with a new life all on my own.

It made me sad, but it also made me mad.

I grabbed the goblet from Aphrodite and took a big

drink. It was wine, but it didn't taste like the wine in the

other moon ritual. This one was sweet, too, but there was a

spice to it that tasted like nothing I'd ever experienced

before. It caused an explosion of sensation in my mouth that

traveled with a hot, bittersweet trail down my throat and

filled me with a dizzy desire to drink more and more and

more of it.

"Blessed be," Aphrodite hissed at me as she jerked

the goblet from me, sloshing some of the red liquid over my

fingers. Then she gave me a tight, triumphant smile.

"Blessed be," I replied automatically, head still

reeling with the taste of the wine. She moved to Enyo,

offering her the goblet, and I couldn't stop myself from

licking my fingers to get one more taste of the wine that had

spilled there. It was beyond delicious. And it smelled…it

smelled familiar…but through the whoosh of dizziness in

my head I couldn't concentrate enough to figure out where

I'd smelled something that incredible before.

It hardly took any time for Aphrodite to travel

around the circle, giving each of the kids a taste from the

goblet. I watched her closely, wishing I could have more as

she returned to the table. She lifted the goblet again.

"Great and magical Goddess of Night and of the full

moon, she who rides through the thunder and the tempest,

leading the spirits and the Elder Ones, beautiful and

awesome one, who even those most ancient must obey, aid

us in what we ask. Fill us with your power and magic and

strength!”

Then she upended the goblet, and I watched,

jealously, as she drank until she drained the last drops.

When she finished drinking, the music started up again. In

time with it she made her way back around the circle,

dancing and laughing as she blew out each candle and told

each element good-bye. And somehow, as she was moving

around the circle, my vision got all screwed up because her

body rippled and changed and it suddenly seemed as if I

was watching Neferet again—only now she was a younger,

rawer version of the High Priestess.

"Merry meet and merry part and merry meet again!"

she finally said. We all responded while I blinked my vision

clear and the weird image of Aphrodite-as-Neferet faded, as

did the burning of my Mark. But I could still taste the wine

on my tongue. It was way strange. I don't like alcohol.

Seriously. I just don't like the way it tastes. But there was

something about this wine that was delicious beyond…well,

beyond even Godiva dark chocolate truffles (I know, it's

hard to believe). And I still couldn't figure out why it

somehow seemed familiar.

Then everyone started to talk and laugh as the circle

broke up. The gaslights came on overhead, making us blink

from their brightness. I looked across the circle, trying to

see if Erik might still be watching me, and a movement at

the table caught my eye. The person who had been slumped

and motionless during the entire ritual was finally moving.

He kinda jerked around, awkwardly pulling himself more

into a sitting position. The hood on the dark cloak fell back,

and I was shocked to see bright orange-red, bushy,

unattractive hair and a pudgy too-white and freckled face.

It was that annoying Elliott kid! Very, very odd that

he was here. What could the Dark Daughters and Sons want

with him? I looked around the room again. Yep, as I'd

suspected, there wasn't one ugly, dorky-looking kid present.

Everyone, and I do mean everyone, except Elliott was

attractive. He definitely didn't belong.

He was blinking and yawning and looked like he'd

been sniffing way too much of the incense. He lifted his

hand to wipe something off his nose (probably one of the

boogers he liked to go spelunking after) and I saw the white

of thick bandages that were wrapped around his wrists.

What the…?

A terrible, crawly feeling worked its way up my

spine. Enyo and Deino were standing not far from me,

talking animatedly to the girl they'd called Pemphredo. I

walked over to them and waited till there was a lull in the

conversation. Pretending that my stomach wasn't trying to

squeeze itself to death, I smiled and nodded in the general

direction of Elliott.

"What's that kid doing here?”

Enyo glanced at Elliott and then rolled her eyes.

"He's nothing. Just the refrigerator we used tonight.”

"What a loser," Deino said, dismissing Elliott with a

sneer. "He's practically human," Pemphredo said in disgust.

"No wonder all he's good for is a snack bar.”

My stomach felt like it was being turned inside out.

"Wait, I don't get it. Refrigerator? Snack bar?”

Deino the Terrible turned her haughty, chocolatecolored eyes on me. "That's what we call humans—

refrigerators and snack bars. You know—breakfast, lunch,

and dinner.”

"Or any of the meals in between," warlike Enyo

practically purred.

"I still don't—" I started, but Deino interrupted me.

"Oh, come on! Don't pretend that you couldn't tell

what was in the wine, and that you didn't love the taste of

it.”

"Yeah, admit it, Zoey. It was obvious. You would

have downed the whole thing—you wanted it even more

than we did. We saw you licking it off your fingers," Enyo

said, leaning forward all into my personal space as she

stared at my Mark. "That makes you some kind of freak,

doesn't it? Somehow you're fledgling and vamp, all in one,

and you wanted more of that kid's blood than just a taste.”

"Blood?" I didn't recognize my own voice. The

word "freak" kept echoing round and round in my head.

"Yes, blood," Terrible said.

I felt hot and cold at once and looked away from

their knowing faces, and right into Aphrodite's eyes. She

was standing across the room from me talking to Erik. Our

eyes locked and slowly, purposefully, she smiled. She was

holding the goblet again, and she raised it in an almost

imperceptible salute to me before taking a drink from it and

turning back to laugh at something Erik had just said.

Holding myself together, I made a lame excuse to

Warlike, Terrible, and the Wasp, and walked calmly from

the room. The instant I closed the thick wooden door of the

rec hall behind me I ran like a crazy blind person. I didn't

know where I was going, except that I wanted to be away.

I drank blood—that horrid Elliott kid's blood—and

I'd liked it! And worse, the delicious smell had been

familiar because I'd smelled it before when Heath's hands

had been bleeding. It hadn't been a new cologne I'd been

drawn to; it had been his blood. And I'd smelled it again in

the hall yesterday when Aphrodite had slit Erik's thigh and I

had wanted to lick up his blood, too.

I was a freak.

Finally, I couldn't breathe and I collapsed against the

cool stone of the school's protective wall, gasping for air

and puking my guts up.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Shakily, I wiped the back of my hand across my

mouth and then stumbled away from the puke spot (I

refused to even consider what I puked up and how it must

have looked) until I came to a giant oak that had grown so

close to the wall that half of its branches hung over the

other side of it. I leaned against the tree, concentrating on

not getting sick again.

What had I done? What was happening to me?

Then, from somewhere in the limbs of the oak I

heard a meow. Okay, it wasn't really your normal, average,

catlike meow. It was more like a grumpy, "me-eeh-uf-meeef-uf-snort.”

I looked up. Perched on a limb that was resting

against the wall was a small orange cat. She was staring at

me with huge eyes and she definitely looked disgruntled.

"How did you get up there?”

"Me-uf," she said, sneezed, and inched her way

along the branch, clearly trying to get closer to me.

"Well, come on kitty-kitty-kitty," I coaxed.

"Me-eeh-of-ow," she said, creeping forward about

half one of her little paw lengths.

"That's it, come on, baby girl. Move your little tiny

paddies this way." Yes, I was displacing my freak-out and

channeling it into saving the cat, but the truth was that I

couldn't think about what had just happened. Not now. It

was too soon. Too fresh. So the cat was an excellent

distraction. Plus, she looked familiar. "Come on baby girl,

come on…" I kept up a conversation with her as I hooked

the toe of my flats into the rough brick of the wall and

managed to pull myself up far enough so I could grab onto

the lowest part of the branch the cat was on. Then I was

able to use the branch as a kind of rope to climb farther up

the wall, the whole time talking to the cat, while she kept

complaining at me.

Finally I got within touching range of her. We stared

at each other for a long time, and I started to wonder if she

knew about me. Could she tell that I'd just tasted (and liked)

blood? Did I have blood puke breath? Did I look different?

Had I grown fangs? (Okay, that last question was

ridiculous. Adult vamps don't have fangs, but still.)

She "me-eeh-uf-owed" at me again, and moved a

little closer. I reached out and scratched the top of her head

so that her ears went down and she closed her eyes, purring.

"You look like a little lioness," I told her. "See how

much nicer you are when you're not complaining?" Then I

blinked in surprise, realizing why she seemed so familiar.

"You were in my dream." And a little happiness pushed

through the wall of sickness and fear inside me. "You're my

cat!”

The cat opened her eyes, yawned, and sneezed

again, as if to comment on why it had taken me so long to

figure it out. With a grunt of effort I scrambled up so that I

was sitting on the wide top of the wall beside the branch

where the cat was perched. With a kitty sigh, she jumped

delicately off the branch, onto the top of the wall, and

walked on tiny white paws over to me to crawl into my lap.

There didn't seem to be anything for me to do except to

scratch her on the head some more. She closed her eyes and

purred loudly. I petted the cat and tried to still the tumult in

my mind. The air smelled like it might rain, but the night

was unusually warm for the end of October, and I put my

head back, breathing deeply and letting the silver moonlight

that peeked through the clouds calm me.

I looked at the cat. "Well, Neferet said that we

should sit in the moonlight. I glanced up at the night sky

again. "It would be better if the stupid clouds would blow

away, but still…”

I had only just spoken the words and a gust of wind

whistled around me, suddenly blowing away the wispy

clouds.

"Well, thanks.” I called aloud to nothing in

particular. "That was a very convenient wind." The cat

muttered, reminding me that I'd had the nerve to quit

scratching her ears. "I think I'll call you Nala because you

are a little lioness.” I told her, resuming my scratching.

"You know, baby girl, I'm so glad I found you today; I

really needed something good to happen to me after the

night I've had. You would not believe—”

A weird smell drifted up to me. It was so odd that I

broke off what I was saying. What was that? I sniffed and

wrinkled my nose. It was a dry, old smell. Like a house that

had been closed up for too long, or somebody's scary old

basement. It wasn't a good smell, but it also wasn't so gross

that it made me want to gag. It was just wrong. Like it didn't

belong out here in the open at night.

Then something caught at the corner of my eyesight.

I looked down the long, winding brick wall. Standing there,

half turned away from me like she wasn't sure which way

she wanted to go, was a girl. The light from the moon, and

my new and improved fledgling ability to see well at night,

let me see her even though there were no outside lights near

this part of the wall. I felt myself tense. Had one of those

hateful Dark Daughters followed me? No way did I feel like

dealing with any more of their crap tonight.

I must have actually voiced the frustrated groan I

thought I had made in my mind, because the girl looked up

toward where I was sitting on top of the wall.

I gasped in shock and felt fear skitter through me.

It was Elizabeth! The Elizabeth No Last Name kid

who was supposed to be dead. When she saw me her eyes,

which were a weird, glowing red, widened and then she

made an odd shrieking sound before whirling around and

disappearing with inhuman speed into the night.

At the same instant, Nala arched her back and hissed

with such ferocity that her little body shook.

"It's okay! It's okay!" I said over and over, trying to

calm the cat and me. Both of us were shaking and Nala was

still growling low in her throat. "It couldn't have been a

ghost. It couldn't have been. It was just…just…a weird kid.

I probably scared her and she—”

"Zoey! Zoey! Is that you?”

I jumped and almost fell off the wall. It was too

much for Nala. She gave another tremendous hiss and

leaped neatly from my lap to the ground. Completely and

utterly freaked out, I grabbed the branch for balance and

squinted out into the night.

"Who—who is it?" I called over the pounding of my

heart. Then I was blinded by the beams of two flashlights

aimed directly at me.

"Of course it's her! Like I couldn't recognize my

own best friend's voice? Jeesh, she hasn't been gone that

long!”

"Kayla?" I said, trying to shield my eyes from the

glare of the flashlights with my hand, which was shaking

like crazy.

"Well, I told you we'd find her," a guy's voice said.

"You always want to give up too soon.”

"Heath?" Maybe I was dreaming.

"Yep! Whoo-hoo! We found ya, baby!" Heath

yelled, and even in the awful flashlight glare I could see

him hurl himself at the wall and then start to scramble up

like a tall, blond, football-playing monkey.

Incredibly relieved it was him and not a boogie

monster, I called down to him, "Heath! Be careful. If you

fall you're going to break something." Well, unless he

landed on his head—then he'd probably be okay.

"Not me!" he said, pulling himself up and over so

that he was sitting beside me, straddling the wall. "Hey,

Zoey, check it out—look at me; I'm king of the world!" He

yelled, throwing out his arms, grinning like a total fool, and

breathing alcohol-scented air all over me.

No wonder I'd refused to go out with him.

"Okay, there's no need to forever make fun of my

unfortunate ex-infatuation with Leonardo!' I glared at him,

feeling more like myself than I had in hours. "Actually, it's

kinda like my unfortunate ex-infatuation with you. Only it

didn't last as long, and you didn't make a bunch of cheesy

but cool movies.”

"Hey, you're not still mad about Dustin and Drew

are you? Forget them! They're retards." Heath said, giving

me his puppy-dog look, which used to be really cute when

he was in eighth grade. Too bad the cuteness had stopped

working for him about two years ago. "And, anyway, we

came all the way over here to bust you out.”

"What?" I shook my head and squinted at him.

"Wait. Turn those flashlights off. They're killing my eyes.”

"If we turn them off we can't see," Heath said.

"Fine. Then turn them away. Uh, point them out

there or something," I gestured out away from the school

(and me). Heath turned the beam of the one he'd been

clutching out into the night, and so did Kayla. I was able to

drop my hand, which I was pleased to see had quit shaking,

and stop squinting. Heath's eyes widened when he saw my

Mark.

"Check it out! It's colored in now. Wow! It's like…

like…on TV or something.”

Well, it was nice to see that some things never

change. Heath was still Heath—cute, but not the brightest

Crayola in the pack.

"Hey! What about me? I'm here too, ya know!"

Kayla called. "Someone help me get up there, but be

careful. Let me put my new purse down. Oh, and I better

take off these shoes. Zoey, you would not believe the sale

you missed yesterday at Bakers. All of their summer shoes

totally on closeout. I mean, serious closeout. Seventy

percent off. I got five pairs for….”

"Help her up," I told Heath. "Now. It's the only way

she'll stop talking.”

Yep. Some things just didn't change.

Heath scooted around till he was on his belly, and

then leaned down to offer his hands to Kayla. Giggling, she

grabbed them and let him haul her up on top of the wall

with us. And it was while she was giggling and he was

hauling that I saw it—the unmistakable way Kayla grinned

and giggled and blushed at Heath. I knew it as well as I

knew I would never be a mathematician. Kayla liked Heath.

Okay, not liked. She liked Heath.

Suddenly Heath's guilty comment about messing

around on me at the party I'd missed made perfect sense.

"So how's Jared?" I asked abruptly, totally stopping

K-babble's giggles.

"Okay, I guess,” she said without meeting my eyes.

"You guess?”

She moved her shoulders and I saw that under her

very cute leather jacket she was wearing the tiny little

cream lace cami we used to call the Boob Shirt, because not

only did it show a lot of cleavage, but it was the color of

skin, so it looked like it was showing even more than it

actually was.

"I dunno. We haven't really talked much the past

couple days or so.”

She still wouldn't look at me, but she did glance at

Heath, who looked clueless—but that was really his only

look. So my best friend was going after my boyfriend. Now

that pissed me off, and for a second I wished it wasn't such

a nice warm night. I wished it was cold and Kayla would

freeze her over-developed boobies right off.

From the north the wind whipped around us

suddenly, viciously, bringing an almost frightening chill.

Trying not to look obvious, Kayla pulled her jacket

closed and giggled again, this time nervously instead of

flirtatiously, and I got another big whiff of beer, and

something else. Something that had been so recently

imprinted into my senses that I was surprised I hadn't

smelled it right away.

"Kayla you've been drinking and smoking?”

She shivered and blinked at me like a very slow

rabbit. "Just a couple. Beers, I mean. And, well, um, Heath

had one little bitty joint and I was really, really scared to

come here, so I just had a couple tiny hits off it.”

"She needed some fortification," Heath said, but he's

never been good with words over two syllables, so it

sounded like fort-fi-ka-shun.

"Since when have you started smoking pot?" I asked

Heath.

He grinned. "It's no big deal, Zo. I just have a joint

once in a while. They're safer than cigarettes.”

I really hated it when he called me Zo.

"Heath," I tried to sound patient. "They are not safer

than cigarettes, and even if they are that's not saying much.

Cigarettes are disgusting and they kill you. And, seriously,

the biggest losers at school smoke pot. Besides the fact that

you really can not afford to kill any more brain cells." I

almost added "or sperms," but I didn't want to go there.

Heath would definitely get the wrong idea if I made a

reference to his man parts.

"Nu uh," Kayla said.

"What Kayla?”

She was still clutching her jacket against the chill.

Her eyes had changed from pitiful rabbit to sly, tail-twitchy

cat. I recognized the change. She did it constantly with

people she didn't consider part of her girlfriend group. It

used to drive me crazy and I would yell at her and tell her

she shouldn't be so mean. Now she was turning that crap on

me?

"I said nu uh because not just losers smoke—at least

not just once in a while. You know those two really hot

running backs who play for Union, Chris Ford and Brad

Higeons? I saw them at Katie's party the other night. They

smoke.”

"Hey, they're not that hot," Heath said.

Kayla ignored him and kept talking. "And Morgan

smokes sometimes.”

"Morgan, as in Morgie who's a Tigette?" Yes, I was

pissed at K, but good gossip is good gossip.

"Yeah. She also just got her tongue and her"—K

broke off and mouthed the word "clit"—"pierced. Can you

imagine how much that must have hurt?”

"What? What did she get pierced?" Heath said.

"Nothing," K and I said together, for a moment

sounding eerily like the best friends we used to be.

"Kayla, you're not staying on subject. Again. The

Union football players have always been drug-happy. Hello!

Please recall their steroid use, which is why it took sixteen

years for us to beat them.”

"Go, Tigers! Yeah, we kicked Union's ass!" Heath

said. I rolled my eyes at him.

"And Morgan has clearly begun losing her mind,

which is why she's piercing her…" I glanced at Heath and

reconsidered. "Her body and smoking. Tell me someone

normal who's smoking." K thought for a second. "Me!”

I sighed. "Look, I just don't think it's smart.”

"Well, you don't always know everything." The

hateful glint was back in her eyes.

I looked from her to Heath, and then back to her

again. "Clearly, you're right. I don't know everything.”

Her mean look turned startled and then flattened out

to mean again, and I suddenly couldn't help comparing her

to Stevie Rae, who, even though I'd only known for a

couple days, I was absolutely, totally sure would not ever

go after my boyfriend, whether he was an almost-ex or not.

I also didn't think she would run away from me and treat me

like I was a monster when I needed her the most.

"I think you should leave," I said to Kayla.

"Fine," she said.

"It's probably not a good idea for you to come back

again, either.”

She shrugged one shoulder so that her jacket fell

open and I could see the thin strap of the cami slip down her

shoulder, making it clear she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Whatever," she said.

"Help her get down, Heath.”

Heath was generally pretty good at following simple

directions, so he hoisted Kayla down. She grabbed the

flashlight and looked back up at us.

"Hurry up, Heath. I'm getting really cold." Then she

spun around and started marching off toward the road.

"Well…," Heath said a little awkwardly. "It did get

cold all of a sudden.”

"Yeah, it can quit now," I said absently, and didn't

pay much attention when the wind suddenly stopped.

"Hey, uh, Zo. I really did come to bust you out.”

"No.”

"Huh?" Heath said.

"Heath, look at my forehead.”

"Yeah, you have that half moon thing. And it's

colored in, which is weird because it wasn't colored in

before.”

"Well, it is now. Okay, Heath, focus. I've been

Marked. That means that my body is going through the

Change to become a vampyre.”

Heath's eyes went from my Mark and traveled down

my body. I saw them hesitate at my boobs and then my legs,

which made me realize that they were showing all naked

almost up to my crotch because my skirt had hiked up when

I climbed on top of the wall.

"Zo, whatever's happening to your body is cool with

me. You look seriously hot. You've always been beautiful,

but now you look like a real goddess.” He smiled at me and

touched my cheek gently, reminding me why I've liked him

so much for such a long time. Despite his faults, Heath

could be really sweet, and he always made me feel

completely beautiful.

"Heath," I said softly. "I'm sorry, but things have

changed.”

"Not with me they haven't.” Taking me completely

by surprise he leaned forward, slid a hand up over my knee

and kissed me.

I jerked back and grabbed his wrist. "Stop it Heath!

I'm trying to talk to you.”

"How about you talk, and I kiss?" he whispered.

I started to tell him no again.

Then I felt it.

His pulse under my fingers.

It was beating hard and fast. I swear I could hear it,

too. And as he leaned into me to kiss me again I could see

the vein that ran along his neck. It moved, beating strong as

the blood pumped through his body. Blood…His lips

touched mine and I remembered the taste of the blood in the

goblet. That blood had been cold and mixed with wine, and

from a weak, loser kid who was a nothing. Heath's blood

would be hot and rich…sweet…sweeter than Elliott the

Refrigerator.…

"Ow! Damn, Zoey. You scratched me!" He jerked

his wrist from my hand. "Shit, Zo, you made me bleed. If

you didn't want me to kiss you, all you had to do was say

so.”

He lifted his bleeding wrist to his mouth and sucked

at the drop of blood that was glistening there. Then he

raised his eyes to meet mine, and he froze. He had blood on

his lips. I could smell it—it was like the wine, only better,

worlds better. The scent of it wrapped around me and made

the hair on my arms rise.

I wanted to taste it. I wanted to taste it more than

anything I'd ever wanted in my life.

"I want…" I heard myself whisper in a voice I didn't

know. "Yes…," Heath answered like he was in a trance.

"Yes… whatever you want. I'll do whatever you want.”

This time I leaned into him and touched my tongue

to his lip, taking the drop of blood into my mouth where it

exploded— heat, sensation, and a rush of pleasure I'd never

known.

"More," I rasped.

Like he'd lost the ability to speak and could only

nod, Heath lifted his wrist to me. It was barely bleeding,

and when I licked the tiny scarlet line Heath moaned. The

touch of my tongue seemed to do something to the scratch,

because instantly it started dripping blood, faster…faster…

My hands were shaking as I raised his wrist to my mouth

and pressed my lips against his warm skin. I shivered and

moaned in pleasure and—

"Oh my God! What are you doing to him!" Kayla's

voice was a scream that pierced through the scarlet fog in

my brain. I dropped Heath's wrist as though it had burned

me.

"Get away from him!" Kayla was shrieking. "Leave

him alone!" Heath didn't move.

"Go," I told him. "Go and don't ever come back.”

"No," he said, looking and sounding oddly sober.

"Yes. Get out of here.”

"Let him go!" Kayla yelled.

"Kayla, if you don't shut up I'll fly down there and

suck every last bit of blood from your stupid cheating cow

body!" I spit the words at her.

She squealed and took off. I turned back to Heath,

who was still staring at me.

"Now you need to go, too.”

"I'm not scared of you, Zo.”

"Heath, I'm scared of me enough for both of us.”

"But I don't mind what you did. I love you, Zoey.

More now than I ever have.”

"Stop it!" I didn't mean to yell, but I caused him to

flinch at the power that had filled my words. I swallowed

hard and calmed my voice. "Just go. Please." Then,

searching for some way to make him leave I added,

"Kayla's probably going to get the cops right now. Neither

of us needs that.”

"Okay, I'll go. But I won't stay away." He kissed me

hard and quick. I felt a white-hot stab of pleasure when I

tasted the blood that was still on our lips. Then he slid down

the wall and disappeared into the darkness until all I could

see of him was the little dot of light from his flashlight, and

then, finally, not even that.

I wouldn't let myself think. Not yet. Moving

methodically, like a robot, I used the branch to steady

myself as I climbed down. My knees were shaking so badly

that I was able to walk only the couple of feet to the tree

where I sank down on the ground, pressing my back against

the security of its ancient bark. Nala materialized, hopping

into my lap as if she'd been my cat for years instead of

minutes, and as my sobs started she crawled from my lap to

my chest to press her warm face against my wet cheek.

After what seemed like a long time my sobs turned

to hiccups and I wished I hadn't run out of the rec hall

without my purse. I could really use a Kleenex.

"Here. You look like you need this.”

Nala complained as I jumped in surprise at the

voice, and blinked up through my tears to see someone

handing me a tissue. "Th-thanks," I said, taking it and

wiping my nose.

"No problem," Erik Night said.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"Are you okay?”

"Yeah, I'm okay. Totally. Fine." I lied.

"You don't look fine," Erik said. "Mind if I sit

down?”

"No, go ahead," I said listlessly. I knew my nose

was bright red. I'd definitely been snotting on myself when

he walked up, and I had the sneaking suspicion he'd

witnessed at least part of the nightmare between Heath and

me. The night was just getting worse and worse. I glanced

at him and decided, What the hell, I might as well continue

the trend. "In case you didn't realize it, it was me who saw

that little scene between you and Aphrodite in the hall

yesterday.”

He didn't even hesitate. "I know, and I wish you

hadn't. I don't want you to get the wrong idea about me.”

"And what idea would that be?”

"That there's more going on between Aphrodite and

me than there really is.”

"Not my business," I said.

He shrugged. "I just want you to know that she and I

are not going out anymore.”

I almost said that it sure looked like Aphrodite

wasn't aware of that, but then I thought about what had just

happened between Heath and me, and with a sense of

surprise I realized that maybe I shouldn't judge Erik too

harshly.

"Okay. You guys aren't going out," I said.

He sat quietly beside me for a little while, and when

he spoke again I thought he sounded almost angry.

"Aphrodite didn't tell you about the blood in the wine.”

He hadn't said it like a question, but I answered

anyway. "Nope.”

He shook his head and I saw his jaw tighten. "She

told me she was going to. She said she'd let you know while

you were changing your clothes so that if you weren't okay

with it you could skip drinking from the goblet.”

"She lied.”

"Not a big surprise,” he said.

"Ya think?" I could feel my own anger building

inside me. "This whole thing has just been wrong. I get

pressured into going to the Dark Daughters' ritual where I'm

tricked into drinking blood. Then I meet up with my almostex-boyfriend who just happens to be one hundred percent

human, and no-damn-body bothered to explain to me that

the tiniest speck of his blood would turn me into…into…a

monster." I bit my lip and held on to my anger so I wouldn't

start crying again. I also decided I wouldn't say anything

about thinking I saw Elizabeth's ghost— that was too much

weird to admit for one night.

"No one explained it to you because it's something

that shouldn't have started to effect you until you were a

sixth former," he said quietly.

"Huh?" I was back to being dazzlingly articulate.

"Bloodlust doesn't usually begin until you're a sixth

former and you're almost completely Changed. Once in a

while you'll hear about a fifth former who has to deal with it

early, but that doesn't happen very often.”

"Wait—what are you saying?" My mind felt like

bees were buzzing around in it.

"You start having classes about bloodlust and other

things mature vamps have to deal with during your fifth

form, and then, in your final year, that's mostly what school

focuses on—that and whatever you've decided to major in.”

"But I'm a third former—barely I mean, I've only

been Marked a few days.”

"Your Mark is different; you're different," he said.

"I don't want to be different!" I realized I was

shouting and got my voice under control. "I just want to

figure out how to get through this like everybody else.”

"Too late, Z," he said.

"So what now?”

"I think you'd better talk to your mentor. It's Neferet,

isn't it?"

"Yeah," I said miserably.

"Hey, cheer up. Neferet's great. She hardly ever

takes on fledglings to mentor anymore, so she must really

believe in you.”

"I know, I know. It's just that this makes me feel…"

How did I feel about talking to Neferet about what had

happened tonight? Embarrassed. Like I was twelve years

old again and I had to tell our male gym teacher that I'd

started my period and had to go to the locker room to

change my shorts. I peeked sideways at Erik. There he sat,

gorgeous and attentive and perfect. Hell. I couldn't tell him

that. So instead I blurted, "Stupid. It makes me feel stupid."

Which wasn't actually a lie, but mostly what it made me

feel, besides embarrassed and stupid, was scared. I didn't

want this thing that made it impossible for me to fit in.

"Don't feel stupid. You're actually way ahead of the

rest of us."

"So…," I hesitated, then took a deep breath and

barreled on, "did you like the way the blood in the goblet

tasted tonight?”

"Well, here's the deal with that: My first Full Moon

Ritual with the Dark Daughters was at the end of my third

former year. Except for the 'refrigerator' that night, I was the

only third former there— just like you tonight.” He gave a

small, humorless laugh. "They only invited me because I'd

finaled in the Shakespeare soliloquy contest and was being

flown to London for the competition the next day.” He

glanced at me and looked a little embarrassed. "No one

from this House of Night had ever made it to London. It

was a big deal." He shook his head self-mockingly.

"Actually, I thought I was a big deal. So the Dark Daughters

invited me to join them, and I did. I knew about the blood. I

was given the opportunity to turn it down. I didn't.”

"But did you like it?”

This time his laugh was real. "I gagged and puked

my guts up. It was the most disgusting thing I'd ever

tasted.”

I groaned. My head dropped forward and I put my

face in my hands. "You're not helping me.”

"Because you thought it was good?”

"Better than good," I said, my face still in my hands.

"You say it was the most disgusting thing you'd ever tasted?

I thought it was the most delicious. Well, the most delicious

until I—" I stopped, realizing what I had been about to say.

"Until you tasted fresh blood?" he asked gently.

I nodded my head, afraid to speak.

He tugged at my hands, making me unbury my face.

Then he put his finger under my chin and forced me to look

straight at him. "Don't be embarrassed or ashamed. It's

normal.”

"Loving the taste of blood is not normal. Not for

me.”

"Yes, it is. All vampyres have to deal with their lust

for blood," he said.

"I am not a vampyre!”

"Maybe you're not—yet. But you're also definitely

not the average fledgling, and there's nothing wrong with

that. You're special, Zoey, and special can be amazing.”

Slowly, he took his finger from my chin and, as he

had earlier that night, he traced the shape of a pentagram

softly over my darkened Mark. I liked the way his finger

felt against my skin— warm and a little rough. I also liked

that being near him didn't set off all the weird reactions I'd

had to being close to Heath. I mean, I couldn't hear Erik's

blood beating or see the pulse in his neck jumping. Not that

I'd mind if he kissed me.…

Hell! Was I becoming a vampyre slut? What was

next? Would no male of any species (which might even

include Damien) be safe around me? Maybe I should avoid

all guys until I figured out what was going on with me and

knew I could control myself.

Then I remembered that I had been trying to avoid

everyone, which is why I was out here in the first place.

"What are you doing out here, Erik?”

"I followed you," he said simply.

“

”

Why?

"I figured I knew what Aphrodite had pulled in there

and I thought you might need a friend. You're rooming with

Stevie Rae, right?”

I nodded.

"Yeah, I thought about finding her and sending her

out here to you, but I didn't know if you'd want her to know

about…" He paused and made a vague gesture back in the

direction of the rec hall.

"No! I—I don't want her to know." I stumbled over

the words, I said them so fast.

"That's what I thought. So, that's why you're stuck

with me." He smiled and then looked kinda uncomfortable.

"I really didn't mean to listen in between you and Heath.

Sorry about that.”

I focused on petting Nala. So, he'd watched Heath

kiss me, and then saw the whole blood thing. God, how

embarrassing…Then a thought struck me and I glanced up

at him, smiling ironically. "I guess that makes us even. I

didn't mean to listen in between you and Aphrodite, either.”

He smiled back at me. "We're even. I like that.”

His smile made my stomach do funny things. "I

wouldn't really have flown down and sucked Kayla's

blood," I managed to say.

He laughed. (He had a really nice laugh.) "I know

that. Vampyres can't fly.”

"It freaked her out, though," I said.

"From what I saw, she deserved it." He waited a beat

and then said, "Can I ask you something? It's kinda

personal.”

"Hey, you've seen me drink blood from a cup and

like it, puke, kiss a guy, lick his blood like I'm a puppy, and

then bawl my eyes out. And I've seen you turn down a blow

job. I think I can manage to answer a kinda personal

question.”

"Was he really in a trance? He looked like it and he

sounded like it.”

I squirmed uncomfortably and Nala complained at

me till I petted her quiet.

"It seemed like he was," I finally managed to say. "I

don't know if it was a trance or not—and I totally didn't

mean to put him under my power or anything freaky like

that—but he did change. I dunno. He'd been smoking and

drinking. He might have just been high." I heard Heath's

voice again, rising from my memory like a cloying mist:

Yes…whatever you want…I'll do whatever you want. And I

saw that intense look he'd given me. Hell, I hadn't even

known Heath the Jock was capable of that kind of intensity

(at least off the football field). I knew for sure he couldn't

spell the word (intensity, not football).

"Had he been like that the whole time, or just after

you…um…started to—”

"Not the whole time. Why?”

"Well, that rules out two things that could have been

making him act weird. One—if he was just high then he

would have been like that the whole time. Two—he might

have been acting like that because you're really pretty, and

that alone could make a guy feel like he's in a trance around

you.”

His words made something flutter low in my

stomach again— something that no guy had made me feel

before. Not Heath the Jock, or Jordon the Sloth, or Jonathan

the Stupid Band Kid (my dating history isn't long, but it's

colorful).

"Really?" I said like a moron.

"Really." He smiled very unmoronically.

How could this guy like me? I'm a blood-drinking

dork.

"But that wasn't it either, because he should have

noticed how hot you look even before you kissed him, and

what you're saying is that he didn't seem entranced until

after blood came into the picture.”

(Entranced— hee hee—he actually said entranced.) I

was too busy grinning stupidly at his use of complex vocab

to think before I answered him. "Actually, it happened when

I started to hear his blood.”

"Say again?”

Ah, crap. I hadn't meant to say that. I cleared my

throat. "Heath started to change when I heard the blood

pounding through his veins.”

"Only adult vamps can hear that.” He paused and

then, with a quick smile added, "And Heath sounds like the

name of a gay soap opera star.”

"Close. He's BA's star quarterback.”

Erik nodded and looked amused.

"Uh, by the way, I like what you changed your name

to. Night is a cool last name," I said, trying to hold up my

end of the conversation and say something even slightly

insightful.

His smile widened. "I didn't change it. Erik Night is

the name I was born with.”

"Oh, well. I like it." Why didn't someone just shoot

me?

"Thanks.”

He glanced at his watch and I could see that it was

almost six thirty—in the A.M., which still seemed freaky.

"It'll be getting light soon," he said.

Guessing that this was our cue for us to go our

separate ways, I started to gather my feet under me and get

a better hold on Nala so I could stand up, and I felt Erik's

hand under my elbow, steadying me. He helped me up and

then just stood there, so close that Nala's tail was brushing

against his black sweater.

"I'd ask if you wanted to get something to eat, but

the only place serving food right now is the rec hall, and I

don't think you want to go back there.”

"No, definitely not. But I'm not hungry anyway."

Which, I realized as soon as I said it, was a big lie. At the

mention of food I was suddenly starving.

"Well, do you mind if I walk you back to your

dorm?" he asked.

"Nope," I said, trying to be nonchalant.

Stevie Rae, Damien, and the Twins would totally die

if they saw me with Erik.

We didn't say anything as we started walking, but it

wasn't an awkward, uncomfortable silence. Actually, it was

nice. Once in a while our arms would brush against each

other and I thought about how tall and cute he was and how

much I'd like him to hold my hand.

"Oh," he said after a while, "I didn't finish

answering your question before. The first time I tasted

blood at one of the Dark Daughters' rituals I hated it, but it

got better and better each time. I can't say I think it's

delicious, but it's grown on me. And I definitely like the

way it makes me feel.”

I looked sharply at him. "Dizzy and kinda weakkneed? Like you're drunk, only you're not.”

"Yeah. Hey, did you know it's impossible for a vamp

to get drunk?" I shook my head. "It's something about what

the Change does to our metabolism. It's even tough for

fledglings to get wasted.”

"So drinking blood is the way vamps get wasted?”

He shrugged. "I suppose. Anyway, drinking human

blood is forbidden for fledglings.”

"Well then why hasn't anyone clued the teachers in

on what Aphrodite's up to?”

"She's not drinking human blood.”

"Uh, Erik, I was there. Blood was definitely in the

wine and it came from that Elliott kid.” I shuddered. "And

what a gross choice he was, too.”

"But he's not human," Erik said.

"Wait—it's forbidden to drink human blood," I said

slowly. (Oh, hell! That's what I'd just done.) "But it's okay

to drink another fledgling's blood?”

"Only if it's consensual.”

"That makes no sense.”

"Sure it does. It's normal for our bloodlust to

develop as our bodies Change, so we need an outlet.

Fledglings heal quickly, so there's no real chance of

someone getting hurt. And there aren't any aftereffects, like

when a vamp feeds off a living human.”

What he was saying was banging through my head

like the annoying, too-loud music that blared in Wet Seal,

and I grasped the first thing I could think clearly about.

"Living human?" I squeaked. "Tell me you don't mean

versus feeding off a corpse." I was feeling a little nauseous

again.

He laughed. "No, I mean versus drinking blood

harvested from the vamps' blood donors.”

"Never heard of such a thing.”

"Most humans haven't. You won't learn about it until

you're a fifth former.”

Then some more of what he'd said broke through the

confusion that was my mind. "What did you mean by

aftereffects?”

"We just started learning about it in Vamp Sociology

312. Seems that when an adult vampyre feeds from a living

human, there can be a very strong bond formed. It's not

always on the part of the vamp, but humans become

infatuated pretty easily. It's dangerous for the human. I

mean, think about it. The blood loss alone isn't a good

thing. Then add that to the fact that we outlive humans by

decades, sometimes even centuries. Look at it from a

human's point of view; it would really suck to be totally in

love with someone who never seems to age while you get

old and wrinkled and then die.”

Again I thought about the dazed but intense way

Heath had looked at me, and I knew that, no matter how

hard it might be, I'd have to tell Neferet everything.

"Yep, that would suck," I said faintly.

"Here we are.”

I was surprised to see that we'd stopped in front of

the girl's dorm. I looked up at him.

"Well, thanks for following me—I think," I said,

with a wry smile.

"Hey, any time you want someone to butt in when

he's not invited, I'm the guy for you.”

"I'll keep that in mind," I said. "Thanks." I hefted

Nala up on my hip and started to open the door.

"Hey, Z," he called.

I turned back.

"Don't give back the dress to Aphrodite. By her

including you in the circle tonight she formally offered you

a position in the Dark Daughters, and it's tradition that the

High Priestess in training gives a gift to the new member on

her first night. I don't imagine you'll want to join, but you

still have the right to keep the dress. Especially because you

look so much better in it than she ever did." He reached

forward and took my hand (the one that wasn't clutching my

cat), and turned it over so that my wrist faced up. Then he

took his finger and traced the vein that was close to the

surface there, making my pulse jump crazily.

"And you should also know that I'm the guy for you

if you decide you might like to try another sip of blood.

Keep that in mind, too.”

Erik bent and, still looking in my eyes, he lightly bit

the pulse point at my wrist before kissing the spot softly.

This time the fluttery feeling in my stomach was more

intense. It made the inside of my thighs tingle and my

breathing deepen. His lips still on my wrist he met my eyes

and I felt a shiver of desire pass through my body. I knew

he could feel me tremble. He let his tongue flick against my

wrist, which made me shiver again. Then he smiled at me

and walked away into the pre-dawn light.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

My wrist was still tingling from Erik's totally

unexpected kiss (and bite and lick), and I wasn't sure I

could speak yet, so I was relieved that there were only a few

girls in the big entry room, and they did little more than

glance at me before they went back to watching what

sounded like America's Next Top Model. I hurried into the

kitchen and plunked Nala down on the floor, hoping she

wouldn't run off while I made a sandwich. She didn't;

actually she followed me around the room like a little

orange dog, complaining at me in her weird non-meow. I

kept telling her "I know" and "I understand" because I

figured she was yelling at me about what a moron I'd been

tonight, and, well, she was right. Sandwich made, I grabbed

a bag of pretzels (Stevie Rae had been right, I couldn't find

any decent junk food in any of the cabinets), some brown

pop (I don't really care what kind, just so that it's brown and

not diet—eesh), and my cat, and I slipped up the stairs.

"Zoey! I've been so worried about you! Tell me

everything.” Curled up in bed with a book, Stevie Rae was

obviously waiting up for me. She was wearing her pajamas

that had cowboy hats all over the drawstring cotton pants,

and her short hair was sticking out on one side as if she'd

fallen asleep on it. I swear she looked about twelve years

old.

"Well," I said brightly. "Looks like we have a pet." I

turned so that Stevie Rae could see Nala squished against

my hip. "Here, help me before I drop something. If it's the

cat she'll probably never stop complaining.”

"She's adorable!" Stevie Rae leaped up and rushed

over to try to take Nala from me, but the cat clung to me as

though someone would kill her if she let go, so Stevie Rae

took my food instead and set it on my bedside table.

"Hey, that dress is amazing.”

"Yeah, I changed before the ritual." Which reminded

me that I was going to have to give it back to Aphrodite.

Fine. I was not keeping the "gift," even though Erik had

said I should. Anyway, returning it seemed like a good time

to "thank" her for "forgetting" to clue me in about the

blood. Hag bitch.

"So…how was it?”

I sat on my bed and gave Nala a pretzel, which she

promptly started batting around (at least she'd stopped

complaining), then I took a big bite of sandwich. Yes, I was

hungry, but I was also buying time. I didn't know what I

should tell Stevie Rae, and what I shouldn't. The blood

thing was just so confusing—and so gross. Would she think

I was awful? Would she be scared of me?

I swallowed and decided to steer the conversation to

a safer topic. "Erik Night walked me home.”

"Get out!" She bobbed up and down on the bed like

a country jack-in-the-box. "Tell me everything.”

"He kissed me," I said, crinkling my eyebrows at

her.

"You have got to be kidding! Where? How? Was it

good?”

"He kissed my hand." I decided quickly to lie. I

didn't want to explain the whole wrist/pulse/blood/bite

thing. "It was when he said good night. We were right in

front of the dorm. And, yes, it was good." I grinned at her

around another mouthful of sandwich.

"I'll bet Aphrodite shit puppies when you left the rec

hall with him.”

"Well, actually, I left before him and he caught up

with me. I'd, uh, gone for a walk along the wall, which is

where I found Nala," I scratched the cat's head. She curled

up next to me, closed her eyes, and started purring.

"Actually, I think she found me. Anyway, I had climbed up

on the wall because I thought she needed rescuing, and then

—and you will not believe this—I saw something that

looked like Elizabeth's ghost, and then my almost-exboyfriend from SIHS, Heath, and my ex–best friend showed

up.”

"What? Who? Slow down. Start with Elizabeth's

ghost.”

I shook my head and chewed. Through bites of

sandwich I explained. "It was really creepy and really

weird. I was sitting up there on the wall petting Nala, and

something caught my attention. I looked down and there

was this girl standing not too far away from me. She looked

up at me, with red glowing eyes, and I swear it was

Elizabeth.”

"No way! Were you totally freaked?”

"Totally. The second she saw me she gave this

horrible shriek and then ran off.”

"I would have been scared shitless.”

"I was, only I hardly had time to think about it when

Heath and Kayla showed up.”

"What do you mean? How could they be here?”

"No, not here, they were outside the wall. They must

have heard me trying to settle Nala down after she

completely freaked at Elizabeth's ghost, because they came

running up.”

"Nala saw her, too?”

I nodded.

Stevie Rae shivered. "Then she must have really

been there."

"Are you sure she's dead?" My voice was almost a

whisper. "There couldn't have been some mistake made and

she's still alive but wandering around the school?" It

sounded ridiculous, but not much more ridiculous than me

seeing an actual ghost.

Stevie Rae swallowed hard. "She's dead. I saw her

die. Everyone in class did.”

She looked like she was going to cry and the whole

subject was creeping me out, so I shifted to a less scary

topic. "Well, I could be wrong. Maybe it was just some kid

with weird eyes who looked like her. It was dark, and then

Heath and Kayla were suddenly there.”

"What was that all about?”

"Heath said they came to 'bust me out’," I rolled my

eyes. "Can you imagine?”

"Are they stupid?”

"Apparently. Oh, and then Kayla, my ex-best friend,

made it obvious that she's after Heath!”

Stevie Rae gasped. "Slut!”

"No kidding. Anyway, I told them to leave and not

come back, and then I got upset, which is when Erik found

me.”

"Aww! Was he sweet and romantic?”

"Yeah, he was, kinda. And he called me Z.”

"O000h, a nickname is a seriously good sign.”

"That's what I thought.”

"So then he walked you back to the dorm?”

"Yeah, he said that he'd take me to get something to

eat, but the only thing that was still open was the rec hall,

and I didn't want to go back there." Ah, crap. I knew right

away that I shouldn't have said that much.

"Were the Dark Daughters awful?”

I looked at Stevie Rae with her big deer-like eyes,

and knew I couldn't tell her about drinking blood. Not yet.

"Well, you know how Neferet was sexy and beautiful and

classy?”

Stevie Rae nodded.

"Aphrodite did basically what Neferet did, but she

looked like a ho.”

"I've always thought that she was really nasty,"

Stevie Rae said, shaking her head in disgust.

"Tell me about it." I looked at Stevie Rae and

blurted, "Yesterday, right before Neferet took me here to the

dorm I saw Aphrodite trying to give Erik a blow job.”

"No way! Jeesh, she's disgusting. Wait, you said she

was trying to do it. What's up with that?”

"He was telling her no and pushing her away. He

said he didn't want her anymore.”

Stevie Rae giggled. "I'll bet that made her lose what

little of her mind she has left.”

I remembered how she'd been all over him, even

when he was clearly telling her no. "Actually, I would have

felt sorry for her if she hadn't been so…so…" I struggled to

put it into words.

"Hag from hell–like?" Stevie Rae offered helpfully.

"Yeah, I guess that's it. She has this attitude, like it's

her right to be as mean and nasty as she wants to be, and we

should all just bow down and accept her.”

Stevie Rae nodded. "That's how her friends are,

too."

"Yeah, I met the awful triplets.”

"You mean Warlike, Terrible, and Wasp?”

"Exactly. What were they thinking when they took

those horrid names?" I said, popping pretzels in my mouth.

"They were thinking exactly what that entire group

of hers thinks—that they are better than everyone else and

untouchable because nasty Aphrodite is going to be the next

High Priestess.”

I spoke the next words as they whispered through

my mind. "I don't think Nyx will allow that.”

"What do you mean? They are already the 'in' group,

and Aphrodite has been leader of the Dark Daughters since

her affinity became obvious during her fifth former year.”

"What's her affinity?”

"She gets visions, like of future tragedies," Stevie

Rae scowled.

"Do you think she fakes them?”

"Oh, heck no! She's amazingly accurate. What I

think, and Damien and the Twins agree with me, is that she

only tells about the visions if she has one when she's around

people outside her little group.”

"Wait, are you saying she knows about bad things

that are going to happen in time to stop them, but she

doesn't do anything about it?”

"Yep. Last week she had a vision during lunch, but

the hags closed ranks around her and started leading her out

of the dining hall. If Damien hadn't run right into them

because he was late and hurrying in to lunch, making them

scatter so that he could see that Aphrodite was in the middle

of a vision, no one would ever have known. And a whole

plane full of people would probably be dead.”

I choked on a pretzel. Between coughs I sputtered,

"A plane full of people! What the hell?”

"Yeah, Damien could tell Aphrodite was having a

vision, so he got Neferet. Aphrodite had to tell her the

vision, which was seeing a jet crash just after takeoff. Her

visions are so clear that she could describe the airport and

read the numbers on the tail of the plane. Neferet took that

info and contacted the Denver airport. They double-checked

the plane and found some problem that they hadn't noticed

before, and said that if they hadn't fixed it the plane would

have crashed immediately after takeoff. But I know darn

well Aphrodite wouldn't have said a word if she hadn't been

caught, even though she made up a big lie about her friends

leading her from the dining hall because they knew she'd

want to be taken to Neferet right away. Total b.s.”

I started to say that I couldn't believe that even

Aphrodite and her hags would purposefully allow the death

of hundreds of people, but then I remembered the hateful

stuff they'd said that night— Human men suck…They

should all die— and I realized they hadn't just been talking;

they'd been serious.

"So why didn't Aphrodite lie to Neferet? You know,

tell her a different airport or switch the numbers of the

plane around or something?”

"Vamps are almost impossible to lie to, especially

when they ask you a direct question. And, remember,

Aphrodite wants to be a High Priestess more than anything.

If Neferet believed she was as twisted as she is, it would

seriously hurt her future plans.”

"Aphrodite has no business being a High Priestess.

She's selfish and hateful, and so are her friends.”

"Yeah, well, Neferet doesn't think so, and she was

her mentor.”

I blinked in surprise. "You've got to be kidding! And

she doesn't see through Aphrodite's crap?" That couldn't be

right; Neferet is way smarter than that.

Stevie Rae shrugged. "She acts different around

Neferet."

"But still…”

"And she does have a powerful affinity, which has

to mean that Nyx has special plans for her.”

"Or she's a demon from hell, and she gets her power

from the dark side. Hello! Has no one seen Star Wars? It

was hard to believe Anakin Skywalker would turn, and look

what happened there.”

"Uh, Zoey. That's like total fiction.”

"Still, I think it makes a good point.”

"Well, try telling that to Neferet.”

I chewed my sandwich and thought about it. Maybe

I should. Neferet did seem way too smart to fall for

Aphrodite's games. She probably already knew something

was up with the hags. Maybe all she needed was someone

to stand up and say something to her.

"So, has anyone ever tried to tell Neferet about

Aphrodite?" I asked.

"Not that I know of.”

"Why not?”

Stevie Rae looked uncomfortable. "Well, I think it

seems kinda tattletale-like. Anyway, what would we tell

Neferet? That we think Aphrodite might hide her visions,

but that the only proof we have is that she's a hateful bitch.”

Stevie Rae shook her head. "No, I can't see that going over

very well with Neferet. Plus, if by some miracle she

believed us, what would Neferet do? It's not like she's going

to kick her out of the school so she can cough herself to

death on the streets. She'd still be here with her pack of hags

and all those guys who would do anything for her if she

snapped her little clawed fingers at them. I guess it's just not

worth it.”

Stevie Rae had a point, but I didn't like it. I really,

really didn't like it.

Things might be different if a more powerful

fledgling took Aphrodite's place as leader of the Dark

Daughters.

I jumped guiltily, and covered it by taking a big gulp

of pop. What was I thinking? I wasn't power hungry. I didn't

want to be a High Priestess or get caught up in a pain-inthe-ass battle with Aphrodite and half the school (the more

attractive half, at that). I just wanted to find a place for

myself in this new life, a place that felt like home—a place

where I fit in and was like the rest of the kids.

Then I remembered the electric jolts I'd felt during

the casting of both circles, and how the elements had

seemed to sizzle through my body, and also how I had had

to force myself to stay in the circle and not join Aphrodite

in the casting.

"Stevie Rae, when a circle's being cast, do you feel

anything?" I asked abruptly.

"What do you mean?”

"Well, like when fire's called to the circle. Do you

ever feel hot?”

"Nah. I mean, I really like the circle stuff, and

sometimes when Neferet is praying I feel a zap of energy

traveling through the circle itself, but that's it.”

"So you've never felt a breeze when wind's called,

or smelled rain with water, or felt grass under your feet with

earth?”

"No way. Only a High Priestess with a major

affinity for the elements would—" She broke off suddenly

and her eyes got huge. "Are you saying that you felt that

stuff? Any of that stuff?”

I squirmed. "Maybe.”

"Maybe!" she squeaked. "Zoey! Do you have any

idea what this could mean?”

I shook my head.

"Just last week in Soc class we were studying about

the most famous vamp High Priestesses in history. There

hasn't been a priestess with an affinity for all four of the

elements for hundreds of years.”

"Five," I said miserably.

"All five! You felt something with spirit, too!”

"Yeah, I think so.”

"Zoey! This is amazing. I don't think there's ever

been a High Priestess who felt all five of the elements." She

nodded at my Mark. "It's that. It means you're different, and

you really are.”

"Stevie Rae, can we just keep this between us for a

while? I mean, not even tell Damien or the Twins? I just—I

just want to try to figure this out on my own a little. I feel

like everything's happening too fast.”

"But Zoey, I—”

"And I might be wrong," I interrupted quickly.

"What if I was just excited and nervous because I'd never

been in a ritual before? Do you know how embarrassed I'd

be if I told people 'hey, I'm the only fledgling ever to have

an affinity for all the elements' and it turned out to be

nerves?”

Stevie Rae chewed her cheek. "I dunno, I still think

you should tell someone.”

"Yeah, then Aphrodite and her herd could be right

there to gloat if it turned out that I was imagining things.”

Stevie Rae paled. "Oh, man. You're totally right.

That would be really awful. I won't say anything till you're

ready. Promise.”

Her reaction reminded me. "Hey, what is it

Aphrodite did to you?”

Stevie Rae looked down at her lap, clasped her

hands together, and hunched her shoulders as if she

suddenly felt a chill. "She invited me to a ritual. I hadn't

been here very long, only about a month or so, and I was

kinda excited that the 'in' group wanted me.” She shook her

head, still not looking at me. "It was stupid of me, but I

didn't really know anyone very well yet, and I thought

maybe they would be my friends. So I went. But they didn't

want me to be one of them. They wanted me to be a—a—

blood donor for their ritual. They even called me

'refrigerator: like I wasn't good for anything except holding

blood for them. They made me cry and when I said no they

laughed at me and kicked me out. That's how I met Damien,

and then Erin and Shaunee. They were hanging out together

and they saw me run out of the rec hall, so they followed

me and told me not to worry about it. They've been my

friends ever since." She finally looked up at me. "I'm sorry.

I would have said something to you before, except I knew

they wouldn't try that with you. You're too strong, and

Aphrodite is too curious about your Mark. Plus, you're

beautiful enough to be one of them.”

"Hey, so are you!" I felt sick to my stomach thinking

about Stevie Rae being slumped in the chair like Elliott…

about drinking Stevie Rae's blood.

"No, I'm just kinda cute. I'm not them.”

"I'm not them, either!" I yelled, causing Nala to

wake up and mutter restlessly at me.

"I know you're not. That's not what I meant. I just

meant that I knew they would want you in their group, so

they wouldn't try to use you like that.”

No, they managed to trick me and tried their best to

freak me out. But why? Wait! I knew what they'd been up

to. Erik said that the first time he drank blood he'd hated it,

and had run out puking. I'd been here only two days. They'd

wanted to do something that would disgust me so badly that

I'd be scared away from them and their ritual forever.

They didn't want me to be part of the Dark

Daughters, but they also didn't want to tell Neferet they

didn't want me. Instead, they wanted me to refuse to join

them. For whatever twisted reason, bully Aphrodite wanted

to keep me out of the Dark Daughters. Bullies have always

pissed me off, which meant, unfortunately, I knew what I

had to do.

Ah, crap. I was going to join the Dark Daughters.

"Zoey, you're not mad at me, are you?" Stevie Rae

said in a small voice.

I blinked, trying to clear my thoughts. "Of course

not! You were right; Aphrodite didn't try to get me to do

anything like giving blood." I popped the last bite of

sandwich into my mouth, chewing fast. "Hey, I'm really

beat. Do you think you could help me find a litter box for

Nala so that I can get some sleep?”

Stevie Rae instantly brightened, and hopped off the

bed with her usual perkiness. "Check this out." She

practically skipped to the side of the room and held up a big

green bag that had

FELICIA'S SOUTHERN AGRICULTURE STORE,

2616 S. HARVARD,TULSA

printed in bold white letters across it. From it she

dumped onto the floor a litter box, food and water dishes, a

box of Friskies cat food (with extra hairball protection), and

a sack of kitty litter.

"How did you know?”

"I didn't. It was sitting in front of our door when I

got back from dinner.” She reached into the bottom of the

bag and pulled out an envelope and an adorable pink leather

collar that had miniature silver spikes all around it.

"Here, this is for you.”

She handed me the envelope, which I could now see

had my name printed on it, while she coaxed Nala into her

collar. Inside, written in a beautiful, flowing script on

expensive bone-colored stationary was one line.

Skylar told me she was coming. It was signed with a

single letter: N.

CHAPTER TWENTY

I was going to have to talk to Neferet. I thought

about it as Stevie Rae and I rushed through breakfast the

next morning. I didn't want to tell her anything about my

supposed strange reaction to the elements—I mean, I hadn't

been lying to Stevie Rae. I could have imagined the entire

thing. What if I tell Neferet and she makes me take some

kind of weird affinity test (in this school, who knew?) and

she finds out that I don't have anything other than an

overactive imagination? No way did I want to go through

something like that. I'd just keep my mouth shut until I

knew more about it. I also didn't want to say anything to her

about thinking I might have seen Elizabeth's ghost. Like I

wanted Neferet to think I was psycho? Neferet was cool,

but she was an adult, and I could almost hear the "it was

just your imagination because you'd been through so many

changes" lecture I would get if I admitted to seeing a ghost.

But I did need to talk to her about the bloodlust thing.

(Yeesh—if I liked it so much why did the thought of it still

make me feel queasy?)

"Ya think she's going to follow you to class?" Stevie

Rae said, pointing to Nala.

I looked down at my feet where the cat lay curled,

purring contentedly. "Can she?”

"Do you mean, is she allowed?”

I nodded.

"Yeah, cats can go anywhere they want.”

"Huh," I said, reaching down to scratch the top of

her head. "I guess she might follow me around all day

then.”

"Well, I'm glad she's yours and not mine. From what

I saw when the alarm when off, she's a serious pillowhogger.”

I laughed. "You're right about that. How such a

petite girl could push me off my own pillow, I do not

know." I gave her head one more scratch. "Let's go. We're

gonna be late.”

I stood up with my bowl in my hand, and almost ran

smack into Aphrodite. She was, as usual, flanked by

Terrible and Warlike. Wasp was nowhere to be seen (maybe

she'd taken a shower this morning and melted when the

water touched her—hee hee). Aphrodite's nasty smile

reminded me of a piranha I'd seen at the Jenks Aquarium

when my biology class went there last year on a field trip.

"Hi, Zoey. Gosh, you left in such a hurry last night I

didn't get a chance to say bye. Sorry you didn't have a good

time. It's too bad, but the Dark Daughters isn't for

everyone." She glanced at Stevie Rae and curled her lip.

"Actually, I had a great time last night, and I

absolutely love the dress you gave me!" I gushed. "Thank

you for inviting me to join the Dark Daughters. I accept.

Totally.”

Aphrodite's feral smile flattened. "Really?”

I grinned like an utterly clueless fool. "Really!

When's the next meeting or ritual or whatever—or should I

just ask Neferet? I'm going to see her this morning. I know

she'll be happy to hear how welcome you made me feel last

night and that I'm now a Dark Daughter.”

Aphrodite hesitated for just a moment. Then she

smiled again and matched my clueless tone of voice

perfectly. "Yes, I bet Neferet will be glad to hear you've

joined us, but I am the leader of the Dark Daughters and I

know our schedule by heart, so there's no need to bother her

with silly questions. Tomorrow is our Samhain celebration.

Wear your dress," she emphasized the word, and my smile

widened. I'd meant to get to her and I had. "And meet at the

rec hall right after dinner, four thirty A.M., sharp.”

"Great. I'll be there.”

"Good, what a nice surprise," she said slickly. Then,

followed by Terrible and Warlike (who looked vaguely

shell-shocked), the three of them left the kitchen.

"Hags from hell," I muttered under my breath. I

glanced at Stevie Rae, who was staring at me with a

stricken expression frozen on her face.

"You're joining them?" she whispered.

"It's not what you think. Come on, I'll tell you on the

way to class." I put our breakfast dishes in a dishwasher and

herded the too quiet Stevie Rae out of the dorm. Nala

padded after us, occasionally hissing at any cat who dared

wander too close to me on the sidewalk. "I'm

reconnoitering, just like you said last night," I explained.

"No. I don't like it," she said, shaking her head so

hard she made her short hair bounce crazily.

"Have you never heard of the old saying 'keep your

friends close and your enemies closer'?”

"Yeah, but—”

"That's all I'm doing. Aphrodite gets away with too

much crap. She's mean. She's selfish. She can't be what Nyx

wants for a High Priestess.”

Stevie Rae's eyes got huge. "You're going to stop

her?”

"Well, I'm gonna try." And as I spoke I felt the

sapphire crescent moon on my forehead tingle.

* * *

"Thanks for the cat things you got for Nala," I said.

Neferet looked up from the paper she was grading

and smiled. "Nala—that's a good name for her, but you

should thank Skylar, not me. He's the one who told me she

was coming." Then she glanced at the orange ball of fur that

was impatiently twining between my legs. "She's really

attached to you." Her eyes lifted again to meet mine. "Tell

me, Zoey, do you ever hear her voice inside your head, or

know exactly where she is, even when she's not in the same

room as you?”

I blinked. Neferet thought I might have an affinity

for cats! "No, I—I don't hear her in my head. But she does

complain at me a lot. And I wouldn't know about whether or

not I know where she is when she's not with me. She's

always with me.”

"She is delightful." Neferet crooked a finger at Nala

and said, "Come to me, child.”

Instantly, Nala padded over and jumped up on

Neferet's desk, scattering papers everywhere.

"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry, Neferet." I grabbed for Nala,

but Neferet waved me away. She scratched Nala's head, and

the cat closed her eyes and purred.

"Cats are always welcome, and papers are easily

reorganized. Now, what is it you really wanted to speak

with me about, Zoeybird?”

Her use of my grandma's nickname for me made my

heart hurt, and I suddenly missed her with an intensity that

had me blinking tears from my eyes.

"Are you missing your old home?" Neferet asked

softly.

"No, not really. Well, except for Grandma, but I've

been so busy that I guess I just now realized it," I said

guiltily.

"You don't miss your mother and father.”

It wasn't like she'd said it as a question, but I felt

that I needed to answer her. "No. Well, I don't really have a

dad. He left us when I was little. My mom remarried three

years ago and, well…”

"You can tell me. I give you my word that I will

understand," Neferet said.

"I hate him!" I said with more anger than I'd

expected to feel. "Since he joined our family"—I said the

word sarcastically— "nothing has been right. My mom

totally changed. It's like she can't be his wife and my

mother anymore. It hasn't been my home for a long time.”

"My mother died when I was ten years old. My

father did not remarry. Instead, he began to use me as his

wife. From the time I was ten until Nyx saved me by

Marking me when I was fifteen, he abused me." Neferet

paused and let the shock of what she was saying settle into

me before she continued. "So you see, when I say that I

understand what it is to have your home become an

unbearable place I am not just spouting platitudes.”

"That's awful.” I didn't know what else to say.

"It was then. Now it is simply another memory.

Zoey, humans in your past, and even in your present and

future, will become less and less important to you until,

eventually, you will feel very little for them. You'll

understand this more as you continue to Change.”

There was a cold flatness to her voice that made me

feel odd, and I heard myself saying, "I don't want to stop

caring about my grandma.”

"Of course you don't.” She was back to being warm

and caring again. "It's only nine P.M., why don't you call

her? You can be late to Drama class; I'll let Professor Nolan

know that you are excused.”

"Thank you, I'd like that. But it's not what I wanted

to talk to you about." I took a deep breath. "I drank blood

last night.”

Neferet nodded. "Yes, the Dark Daughters often mix

fledgling blood with their ritual wine. It's something the

young like to do. Did it upset you greatly, Zoey?”

"Well, I didn't know about it until afterward. Then,

yes, it did upset me.”

Neferet frowned. "It wasn't ethical of Aphrodite not

to tell you before. You should have had a choice about

partaking. I'll speak with her.”

"No!" I said a little too quickly, and then I forced

myself to sound calmer. "No, there's really no need. I'll take

care of it. I've decided to join the Dark Daughters, so I don't

want to start off by looking like I set out to get Aphrodite in

trouble.”

"You're probably right. Aphrodite can be rather

temperamental, and I trust that you can take care of it

yourself, Zoey. We do like to encourage fledglings to solve

the problems they have with each other among themselves

whenever possible." She studied me, concern obvious in her

face. "It's normal for the first few tastes of blood to be less

than appetizing. You'd know that if you had been with us

longer.”

"It's not that. It—it tasted really good. Erik told me

that mine was an unusual reaction.”

Neferet's perfect brows shot up. "It is, indeed. Did

you also feel dizzy or exhilarated?”

"Both," I said softly.

Neferet glanced at my Mark. "You are unique, Zoey

Redbird. Well, I think it would be best to pull you out of

this section of Sociology, and move you into a Sociology

415.

"I'd really rather you didn't do that," I said quickly.

"I already feel like enough of a freak with everyone staring

at my Mark and watching to see if I'll do something weird.

If you move me into a class with kids who have been here

for three years, they'll really think I'm bizarre.”

Neferet hesitated, scratching Nala's head while she

considered.

"I understand what you mean, Zoey. I haven't been a

teenager for over one hundred years, but vampyres have

long, accurate memories, and I do recall what it was like to

go through the Change.” She sighed. "Okay, how about a

compromise? I'll allow you to stay in the third former Soc

class, but I want to give you the text we use in the upperlevel class, and have you agree to read a chapter a week,

and promise that you'll discuss any questions you have with

me.”

"Deal," I said.

"You know, Zoey, as you Change, you literally are

becoming an entirely new being. A vampyre is not a human,

although we are humane. It may sound reprehensible to you

now, but your desire for blood is as normal for your new

life as your desire for"—she paused and smiled—"brown

pop has been in your old life.”

"Jeesh! Do you know everything?”

"Nyx has gifted me generously. Besides my affinity

for our lovely felines and my abilities as a healer, I am also

an intuitive.”

"You can read my mind?" I asked nervously.

"Not exactly. But I can pick up bits and pieces of

things. For instance, I know that there's something else you

need to tell me about last night.”

I drew a deep breath. "I was upset after I found out

about the blood, so I ran out of the rec hall. That's how I

found Nala. She was in a tree that was real close to the

school's wall. I thought she was stuck up there, so I climbed

up on the wall to get her and, well, while I was talking to

her two kids from my old school found me.”

"What happened?" Neferet's hand had stilled; she

was no longer petting Nala, and I had all of her attention.

"It wasn't good. They—they were wasted, high and

drunk." Okay, I hadn't meant to blurt that!

"Did they try to hurt you?”

"No, nothing like that. It was my ex–best friend and

my almost-ex-boyfriend.”

Neferet raised her brow at me again.

"Well, I'd quit going out with him, but he and I still

had a thing for each other.”

She nodded as though she understood. "Go on.”

"Kayla and I kinda fought. She sees me differently

now and I guess I see her differently, too. Neither one of us

likes the new view." As I said it I realized it was true. It

wasn't that K had changed—actually, she'd been exactly the

same. It was just that the little things I used to ignore, like

her nonsensical babble and her mean side, were now

suddenly too irritating to deal with. "Anyway, she left and I

was alone with Heath." I stopped there, not sure how to say

the rest of it.

Neferet's eyes narrowed. "You experienced

bloodlust for him."

"Yes," I whispered.

"Did you drink his blood, Zoey?" Her voice was

sharp.

"I just tasted a drop of it. I'd scratched him. I hadn't

meant to, but when I heard his pulse pounding it—it made

me scratch him.”

"So you didn't actually drink from the wound?”

"I started to, but Kayla came back and interrupted

us. She totally freaked, and that's how I finally got Heath to

leave.”

"He didn't want to?”

I shook my head. "No. He didn't want to." I felt like

I was going to cry again. "Neferet, I'm so sorry! I didn't

mean to. I didn't even know what I was doing until Kayla

screamed.”

"Of course you didn't realize what was happening.

How could a newly Marked fledgling be expected to know

about bloodlust?" She touched my arm in a reassuring,

mom-like gesture. "You probably didn't Imprint with him.”

"Imprint?”

"It's what often happens when vampyres drink

directly from humans, especially if there is a bond that has

been established between them prior to the blood-letting.

This is why it is forbidden for fledglings to drink the blood

of humans. Actually, it's strongly discouraged for adult

vampyres to feed from humans, too. There's an entire sect

of vampyres who consider it morally wrong and would like

to make it illegal," she said.

I watched her eyes darken as she talked. The

expression in them suddenly made me very nervous and I

shivered. Then Neferet blinked and her eyes changed back

to normal. Or had I just imagined their weird darkness?

"But that's a discussion best left for my sixth form

sociology class.”

"What do I do about Heath?”

"Nothing. Let me know if he tries to see you again.

If he calls you, don't answer. If he began Imprinting even

the sound of your voice will effect him and work as a lure

to draw him to you.”

"It sounds like something out of Dracula," I

muttered.

"It's nothing like that wretched book!" she snapped.

"Stoker vilified vampyres, which has caused our kind

endless petty troubles with humans.”

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—”

She waved her hand dismissively. "No, I shouldn't

have taken out my frustration about that old fool's book on

you. And don't worry about your friend Heath. I'm sure he'll

be fine. You said that he was smoking and drinking? I

assume you mean marijuana?”

I nodded. "But I don't smoke," I added. "Actually, he

didn't used to and neither did Kayla. I don't get what's

happening to them. I think they're hanging with some of

those druggie football players from Union, and none of

them have enough sense to just say no.”

"Well, his reaction to you might have had more to

do with his level of intoxication than a possible Imprint."

She paused, pulling a scratch pad out of her desk drawer,

and handing me a pencil. "But just in case, why don't you

write down your friends' full names and where they live.

Oh, and add the names of the Union football players, too, if

you know them.”

"Why would you need all of their names?" I felt my

heart fall into my shoes. "You're not going to call their

parents, are you?”

Neferet laughed. "Of course not. The misbehavior of

human teenagers is no concern of mine. I only ask so that I

can focus my thoughts on the group and perhaps pick up

any vestiges of a possible Imprint among them.”

"What happens if you do? What happens to Heath?”

"He's young and the Imprint will be weak, so time

and distance should make it fade eventually. If he actually

Imprinted in full, there are ways to break it." I was about to

say that maybe she should just go ahead and do whatever

she did to break an Imprinting when she continued. "None

of the ways are pleasant.”

"Oh, okay.”

I wrote the names and addresses for Kayla and

Heath. I didn't have a clue where the Union guys lived, but I

did remember their names. Neferet got up and went to the

back of the classroom to retrieve a thick textbook whose

title in silver letters read Sociology 415.

"Begin with Chapter One and work your way

through this entire book. Until you've finished it, let's

consider it your homework instead of the work I assign to

the rest of the Socioi class.”

I took the book. It was heavy and the cover felt cool

in my hot, nervous grip.

"If you have any questions, any at all, come see me

right away. If I'm not here you can come to my apartment in

Nyx's Temple. Go in the front door and follow the stairs on

your right. I am the only priestess at the school right now,

so the entire second floor belongs to me. And don't worry

about disturbing me. You're my fledgling—it's your job to

disturb me," she said with a warm smile.

"Thank you, Neferet.”

"Try not to worry. Nyx has touched you and the

goddess cares for her own." She hugged me. "Now, I'm

going to go tell Professor Nolan what's been keeping you.

Go ahead and use the phone at my desk to call your

grandma." She hugged me again and then closed the

classroom door gently behind her as she left.

I sat down at her desk and thought about how great

she was, and how long it'd been since my mom had hugged

me like that. And for some reason, I started to cry.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

"Hi Grandma, it's me.”

"Oh! My Zoeybird! Are you okay, honey?”

I smiled into the phone and wiped my eyes. "I'm

good, Grandma. I just miss you.”

"Little bird, I miss you, too." She paused and then

said, "Has your mom called you?”

"No.”

Grandma sighed. "Well, honey, maybe she doesn't

want to bother you while you're settling into your new life. I

did tell her that Neferet had explained to me that your days

and nights will be flip-flopped.”

"Thanks, Grandma, but I don't think that's why she

hasn't called me.”

"Maybe she has tried and you just missed her call. I

called your cell yesterday, but I only got your voicemail.”

I felt a twinge of guilt. I hadn't even checked my

phone for messages. "I forgot to plug my cell phone in. It's

back in the room. Sorry I missed your call, Grandma.”

Then, to make her feel better (and to get her to quit talking

about it), I said, "I'll check my phone when I get back to my

room. Maybe Mom did call.”

"Maybe she did, honey. So, tell me, how is it there?”

"It's good. I mean, there are a lot of things I like

about it. My classes are cool. Hey, Grandma, I'm even

taking fencing and an equestrian class.”

"That's wonderful! I remember how much you liked

to ride Bunny.”

"And I got a cat!”

"Oh, Zoeybird, I'm so glad. You've always loved

cats. Are you making friends with the other kids?”

"Yeah, my roommate, Stevie Rae, is great. And I

already like her friends, too.”

"So, if everything is going so well, why the tears?”

I should have known I couldn't hide anything from

my grandma. "It's just…just that some of the things about

the Change are really hard to deal with.”

"You're well, aren't you?" Worry was thick in her

voice. "Is your head okay?”

"Yeah, it's nothing like that. It's—" I stopped. I

wanted to tell her; I wanted to tell her so bad I could

explode, but I didn't know how. And I was afraid—afraid

she wouldn't love me anymore. I mean, Mom had quit

loving me, hadn't she? Or, at the very least, Mom had traded

me in for a new husband, which in some ways was worse

than quitting loving me. What would I do if Grandma

walked away from me, too?

"Zoeybird, you know you can tell me anything," she

said gently.

"It's hard, Grandma." I bit my lip to keep from

crying.

"Then let me make it easier. There is nothing you

could say that would make me stop loving you. I'm your

Grandma today, tomorrow, and next year. I'll be your

Grandma even after I join our ancestors in the spirit world,

and from there I'll still love you, Little Bird.”

"I drank blood and I liked it!" I blurted.

Without any hesitation, Grandma said, "Well, honey,

isn't that what vampyres do?”

"Yeah, but I'm not a vampyre. I'm just a few-daysold fledgling.”

"You're special, Zoey. You always have been. Why

should that change now?”

"I don't feel special. I feel like a freak.”

"Then remember something. You're still you.

Doesn't matter that you've been Marked. Doesn't matter that

you're going through the Change. Inside, your spirit is still

your spirit. On the outside you might look like a familiar

stranger, but you need only look inside to find the you

you've known for sixteen years.”

"The familiar stranger…," I whispered. "How did

you know?”

"You're my girl, Honey. You're daughter of my

spirit. It's not hard to understand what you must be feeling

—it's very much like what I imagine I'd be feeling.”

"Thank you, Grandma.”

"You are welcome, U-we-tsi a-ge-hu-tsa.”

I smiled, loving how the Cherokee word for

daughter sounded—so magical and special, like it was a

Goddess-given title. Goddess-given…

"Grandma, there's something else.”

"Tell me, Little Bird.”

"I think I feel the five elements when a circle is

cast.”

"If that is the truth, you have been given great

power, Zoey. And you know that with great power comes

great responsibility. Our family has a rich history of Tribal

Elders, Medicine Men, and Wise Women. Have a care,

Little Bird, to think before you act. The Goddess would not

have granted you special powers on a whim. Use them

carefully, and make Nyx, as well as your ancestors, look

down and smile on you.”

"I'll try my best, Grandma.”

"That's all I would ever ask of you, Zoeybird.”

"There's a girl here who also has special powers,

too, but she's awful. She's a bully and she lies. Grandma, I

think…I think…" I took a deep breath and said what had

been brewing in my mind all morning. "I think I'm stronger

than she is and I think that maybe Nyx Marked me so that I

can get her out of the position she's in. But—but that would

mean that I have to take her place, and I don't know if I'm

ready for that, not now. Maybe not ever.”

"Follow what your spirit tells you, Zoeybird." She

hesitated, then said, "Honey, do you remember the

purification prayer of our people?”

I thought about it. I couldn't count the times I'd gone

with her to the little stream behind Grandma's house and

watched her bathe ritualistically in the running water and

speak the purification prayer. Sometimes I stepped into the

stream with her and said the prayer, too. The prayer had

been entwined throughout my childhood, spoken at the

change of seasons, in thanks for the lavender harvest, or in

preparation for the coming winter, as well as whenever

Grandma was faced with hard decisions. Sometimes I didn't

know why she purified herself and spoke the prayer. It

simply had always been.

"Yes," I said. "I remember it.”

"Is there running water inside the school grounds?”

"I don't know, Grandma.”

"Well, if there isn't then get something to use as a

smudge stick. Sage and lavender mixed together are best,

but you can even use fresh pine if you have no other choice.

Do you know what to do, Zoeybird?”

"Smudge myself, starting at my feet and working

my way up my body, front and back," I recited, as if I was a

small child again and Grandma was drilling me in the ways

of our people. "And then face the east and speak the

purification prayer.”

"Good, you do remember. Ask for the Goddess's

help, Zoey. I believe that she will hear you. Can you do this

before sunrise tomorrow?”

"I think so.”

"I will perform the prayer, too, and add a

grandmother's voice to ask the Goddess to guide you.”

And suddenly I felt better. Grandma was never

wrong about these sorts of things. If she believed it would

be okay, then it really would be okay.

"I'll speak the purification prayer before dawn. I

promise.”

"Good, Little Bird. Now this old woman had better

let you go. You are in the middle of a school day right now,

aren't you?”

"Yeah, I'm on my way to Drama class. And,

Grandma, you'll never be old.”

"Not as long as I can hear your young voice, Little

Bird. I love you, U-we-tsi a-ge-hu-tsa.”

"I love you, too, Grandma.”

Talking to Grandma had lifted a terrible weight from

my heart. I was still scared and freaked out about the future,

and I wasn't wild about the thought of bringing down

Aphrodite. Not to mention that I really didn't have a clue

how to go about it. But I did have a plan. Okay, maybe it

wasn't a "plan," but at least it was something to do. I'd

complete the purification prayer, and then…well…then I'd

figure out what to do after that.

Yeah, that would work. Or at least that's what I kept

telling myself through my morning classes. By lunch I'd

decided on the place for my ritual—under the tree by the

wall where I'd found Nala. I thought about it while I made

my way through the salad bar behind the Twins. Trees,

especially oaks, were sacred to the Cherokee people, so that

seemed to be a good choice. Plus, it was secluded and easy

to get to. Sure, Heath and Kayla had found me over there,

but I wasn't planning on sitting on top of the wall again, and

I couldn't imagine Heath showing up at dawn two days in a

row, whether he had been Imprinted or not. I mean, this was

the guy who slept till two in the afternoon in the summer,

every day. It took two alarm clocks and his mother

shrieking at him to get him up for school. The kid was not

going to be up at pre-dawn again. It would probably take

him months to recover from yesterday. No, actually, he'd

probably snuck out of the house and met K (sneaking out

had always been easy for her, her parents were totally

clueless), and they'd been up all night. Which meant that

he'd missed school and would be playing sick and sleeping

in for the next two days. Anyway, I wasn't worried about

him showing up.

"Don't you think baby corns are scary? There's just

something wrong about their midget bodies.”

I jumped and almost dropped the ladle of ranch

dressing into the vat of white liquid, and looked up into

Erik's laughing blue eyes.

"Oh, hi," I said. "You scared me.”

"Z, I think I'm making a habit of sneaking up on

you.”

I giggled nervously, very aware that the Twins were

watching every move we made.

"You look like you've recovered from yesterday.”

"Yeah, no problem. I'm fine. And this time I'm not

lying."

"And I heard you joined the Dark Daughters.”

Shaunee and Erin sucked air together. I was careful

not to look at them.

"Yep.”

"That's cool. That group needs some new blood.”

"You say 'that group' like you don't belong to it.

Aren't you a Dark Son?”

"Yeah, but it's not the same as being a Dark

Daughter. We're just ornamental. Kinda the opposite of how

it is in the human world. All the guys know that we're just

there to look good and keep Aphrodite amused.”

I looked up at him, reading something else in his

eyes. "And is that what you're still doing, amusing

Aphrodite?”

"As I said last night, not anymore, which is one

reason I don't really consider myself a member of the group.

I'm sure they'd officially kick me out if it wasn't for that

little acting thing I do.”

"You mean 'little' as in Broadway and LA already

being interested in you.”

"That's what I mean." He grinned at me. "It's not

real, you know. Acting is all pretend. It's not what I really

am." He bent down to whisper in my ear. "Really, I'm a

dork.”

"Oh, please. Does that line work for you?”

He exaggerated a look of being offended. "Line?

No, Z. That's no line, and I can prove it.”

"Sure you can.”

"I can. Come to the movies with me tonight. We'll

watch my favorite DVDs of all time.”

"How does that prove anything?”

"It's Star Wars, the original ones. I know all the lines

for all the parts." He leaned closer and whispered again. "I

can even do Chewbacca's parts.”

I laughed. "You're right. You are a dork.”

"Told you.”

We'd come to the end of the salad bar and he walked

with me over to the table where Damien, Stevie Rae, and

the Twins were already seated. And, no, they weren't

making any attempt to hide the fact that they were all totally

gawking at the two of us.

"So, will you go…with me…tonight?”

I could hear the four of them holding their breaths.

Literally.

"I'd like to, but I can't tonight. I—uh—I already

have plans."

"Oh. Okay. Well…next time. See ya." He nodded at

the table and walked away.

I sat down. They were all staring at me. "What?" I

said.

"You have lost every last bit of your mind," Shaunee

said. "My exact thoughts, Twin," Erin said.

"I hope you have a really good reason for blowing

him off," Stevie Rae said. "It was obvious you hurt his

feelings.”

"Think he'd let me comfort him?" Damien asked,

still gazing dreamily after Erik.

"Give it up," Erin said.

"He doesn't play for your team,” Shaunee said.

"Shush!" Stevie Rae said. She turned to look me

straight in the eyes. "Why did you tell him no? What could

be more important than a date with him?”

"Getting rid of Aphrodite," I said simply.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

"She has a point," Damien said.

"She joined the Dark Daughters," Shaunee said.

"What!" Damien squeaked, his voice going up about

twenty octaves.

"Leave her alone," Stevie Rae said, instantly coming

to my defense. "She's reconnoitering.”

"Reconnoitering, hell! If she joined the Dark

Daughters she's engaging the enemy full on," Damien said.

"Well, she joined," Shaunee said.

"We heard her," Erin said.

"Hello! I'm still right here," I said.

"So what are you going to do?" Damien asked me.

"I don't really know," I said.

"You better get a plan and get one quick or those

hags are gonna have you for lunch," Erin said.

"Yep," Shaunee said, biting viciously into her salad

for effect.

"Hey! She doesn't have to figure this out on her

own. She has us." Stevie Rae crossed her arms over her

chest and glared at the Twins.

I smiled my thanks to Stevie Rae. "Well, I kinda

have an idea."

"Good. Tell us and we'll brainstorm," said Stevie

Rae. Everyone looked expectantly at me. I sighed. "Well.

Um…,”

I started hesitantly, afraid I was sounding like a

moron, and then I decided I might as well tell them what

had been on my mind since I talked to Grandma, so I

finished in a rush. "I thought I'd perform an ancient

purification prayer based on Cherokee ritual and ask Nyx to

help me come up with a plan.”

The silence at the table seemed to last forever. Then

Damien finally said, "Asking for Nyx's help isn't a bad

idea.”

"Are you Cherokee?" Shaunee asked.

"You look Cherokee," Erin said.

"Hello! Her last name is Redbird. She's Cherokee,"

Stevie Rae said with finality.

"Well, that's good," Shaunee said, but she looked

doubtful.

"I just think that Nyx might actually hear me and—

maybe—give me some kind of clue as to what I should do

about horrid Aphrodite." I looked at each of my friends.

"Something inside me says it's just wrong to let her get

away with all the crap she's getting away with.”

"Let me tell them!" Stevie Rae suddenly said. "They

won't tell anyone. Really. And it'd help if they knew.”

"What the F?" Erin said.

"Okay, now you have no choice," Shaunee said,

pointing at Stevie Rae with her fork. "She knew if she said

that we would pester the crap outta you till you told us

whatever it is she's talking about.”

I frowned at Stevie Rae, who shrugged her

shoulders sheepishly and said, "Sorry.”

Reluctantly, I lowered my voice and leaned forward.

"Promise you won't tell anyone.”

"Promise," they said.

"I think I can feel the five elements when a circle is

cast." Silence. They just stared. Three of them shocked,

Stevie Rae smug.

"So, you still think she can't take down Aphrodite?"

Stevie Rae said.

"I knew there was more to your Mark than falling

down and hitting your head!" Shaunee said.

"Wow," Erin said. "Talk about good gossip.”

"No one can know!" I said quickly.

"Please," Shaunee said. "We're just sayin' that

someday this is gonna be great gossip.”

"We know how to wait for great gossip," Erin said.

Damien ignored both of them. "I don't think there's a

record of any High Priestess who has had an affinity with

all five elements.” Damien's voice got more excited as he

spoke. "Do you know what that means?" He didn't give me

a chance to respond. "It means you could potentially be the

most puissant High Priestess the vampyres have ever

known.”

"Huh?" I said. Puissant?

"Strong—powerful," he said impatiently. "You

might actually be able to take out Aphrodite!”

"Now, that's some seriously good news," Erin said,

as Shaunee nodded in enthusiastic agreement.

"So when and where are we doing the purification

thingy?" Stevie Rae said.

"We?" I said.

"You're not in this alone, Zoey," she said.

I opened my mouth to protest—I mean, I wasn't

even sure what I was going to do. I didn't want to get my

friends mixed up in something that might be—actually,

would probably be—a total mess. But Damien didn't give

me time to tell them no.

"You need us," he said simply. "Even the most

puissant High Priestess needs her circle.”

"Well, I hadn't really thought about casting a circle. I

was just gonna do a kind of purification prayer thing.”

"Can't you cast a circle and then pray the prayer and

ask for Nyx's help?" Stevie Rae asked.

"Seems logical," Shaunee said.

"Plus, if you really do have an affinity for the five

elements, I'll bet we'll be able to sense it when you cast

your own circle. Right, Damien?" Stevie Rae said.

Everyone looked at the gay scholar of our group.

"Sounds like good logic to me," he said.

I was still going to argue, even though everything

inside of me felt relieved and happy and grateful that my

friends would be there with me, that they wouldn't let me

face all of this uncertainty alone.

Value them; they are pearls of great price.

The familiar voice floated through my mind, and I

realized that I shouldn't question the new instinct within me

that seemed to have been born when Nyx kissed my

forehead and permanently changed my Mark and my life.

"Okay, I'm going to need a smudge stick." They

looked at me blankly, and I went on to explain. "It's for the

purification part of the ritual because I don't have any

running water handy. Or do I?”

"You mean like a stream or a river or something like

that?" Stevie Rae asked.

"Yeah.”

"Well, there's a little stream that runs through the

courtyard outside the dining hall and disappears somewhere

under the school," Damien said.

"That's no good; it's too public. We'll need to use the

smudge stick. What works best is dried lavender and sage

mixed together, but if I have to I can use pine.”

"I can get the sage and lavender," Damien said.

"They have that kind of stuff in the school supplies store for

the fifth and sixth former's Spells and Rituals class. I'll just

say I'm helping out an upperclassman by picking some up

for him. What else do you need?”

"Well, in the purification ritual Grandma always

thanked the seven sacred directions the Cherokee people

honor: north, south, east, west, sun, earth, and self. But I

think I want to make the prayer more specific to Nyx." I

chewed my lip, thinking.

"I think that's smart," Shaunee said.

"Yeah," Erin added. "I mean, Nyx isn't allied with

the sun. She's Night.”

"I think you should follow your gut," Stevie Rae

said. "Trusting herself is one of the first things a High

Priestess learns to do," Damien said.

"Okay, then I'll also need a candle for each of the

five elements," I decided.

"Easy-peasy," Shaunee said.

"Yeah, the temple is never locked and there are

zillions of circle candles in there.”

"Is it okay to take them?" Stealing from Nyx's

Temple definitely did not feel like a good idea.

"It's fine as long as we bring them back," Damien

said. "What else?”

"That's it." I think. Hell, I wasn't sure. It's not like I

actually knew what I was doing.

"When and where?" Damien asked.

"After dinner. Let's say five o'clock. And we can't go

together. The last thing we need is for Aphrodite or any of

the other Dark Daughters to think we're having some kind

of meeting and get curious about us. So let's meet at a huge

oak tree by the eastern wall." I smiled crookedly at them.

"It's easy to find if you pretend that you've just run out of

one of the Dark Daughter's rituals in the rec hall, and you

want to get the hell away from the hags.”

"That doesn't take much pretending," Shaunee said.

Erin snorted.

"Okay, we'll bring the stuff," Damien said.

"Yeah, we'll bring the stuff; you bring the

puissantness," Shaunee said, giving Damien a smartass

look.

"That is not the correct form of that word. You

know, you really should do more reading. Maybe your

vocabulary would improve.” Damien said.

"Your mom needs to read more.” Shaunee said, and

then she and Erin dissolved in giggles at the really bad

"your mom" joke.

I, for one, was glad that they shifted the subject

away from me and I could eat my salad and think in relative

privacy while they bickered back and forth. I was chewing

and trying to remember all the words to the purification

prayer when Nala hopped up on the bench beside me. She

looked at me with her big eyes and then leaned into me and

started to purr like a jet engine. I don't know why, but she

made me feel better. And when the bell rang and we all

hurried off to class, each of my four friends smiled at me,

gave me a secret wink, and said, "Later, Z." They made me

feel better, too, even though their easy adoption of Erik's

nickname for me gave my heart a twinge.

Spanish class zoomed by: a whole lesson on

learning how to say that we like things or don't like things.

Prof. Garmy was cracking me up. She said it would change

our lives. Me gusta gatos. (I like cats.) Me gusta it de

compras. (I like shopping.) No me gusta cocinar. (I don't

like to cook.) No me gusta lavantar el gato. (I don't like to

wash the cat.) Those were Prof. Garmy's favorites, and we

spent the hour coming up with our own favorites.

I tried not to scribble things like me gusta Erik… and

no me gusta el hag-o Aphrodite. Okay, so I'm sure el hag-o

is not how you say "hag" in Spanish, but still. Anyway,

class was fun and I actually understood what we were

saying. Equestrian class didn't quite zoom by. Mucking

stalls was good for thinking—I went over and over the

purification prayer—but the hour definitely seemed to take

an hour. This time Stevie Rae didn't have to come get me. I

was way too anxious to lose track of time. As the bell rang I

was quickly putting up the curry combs, happy that Lenobia

had let me groom Persephone again, and preoccupied

because she had also told me that starting next week she

thought I might actually begin riding her. I hurried out of

the stables, wishing that the hour wasn't so late back in the

"real" world. I'd have loved to call Grandma and tell her

how well I was doing with the horses.

"I know what's going on.”

I swear I almost choked. "God, Aphrodite! Could

you make a sound or something! What are you, part spider?

You scared the hell outta me.”

"What's wrong?" she purred. "Guilty conscience?”

"Uh, when you sneak up behind people, you scare

them. Guilt has nothing to do with it.”

"So you're not guilty?”

"Aphrodite, I don't know what you're talking about."

"I know what you're planning for tonight.”

"And yet I still don't know what you're talking

about."Ah, crap! How could she have found out?

"Everyone thinks you're so damn cute and so damn

innocent and they're so damn impressed by that freakish

Mark of yours. Everyone but me.” She turned to face me,

and we stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Her blue eyes

narrowed and her face twisted until it was scarily haggish.

Huh. I wondered (briefly) if the Twins realized how

accurate their nickname for her was. "No matter what

bullshit you've heard he's still mine. He'll always be mine.”

My eyes widened and I felt a wash of relief so

intense it made me laugh. She was talking about Erik, not

about the purification prayer! "Wow, you sound like Erik's

mom. Does he know you're checking up on him?”

"Did I look like Erik's mom when you watched me

suck his dick in the hall?”

So she did know. Whatever. I suppose it was

inevitable that we would have this conversation. "No, you

didn't look like Erik's mom. You looked like what you are—

desperate—while you pathetically tried to throw yourself at

a guy who was clearly telling you he didn't want you

anymore.”

"Fucking bitch! Nobody talks to me like that!”

She raised her hand and, clawlike, moved to slash at

my face. Then it seemed that the world stopped, leaving the

two of us in a little bubble of slow-motion. I caught her

wrist, stopping her easily—too easily. It was like she was a

small, sick child who had struck out in anger, but was really

too weak to do any harm. I held her there for a moment,

meeting her hateful eyes.

"Don't ever try to hit me again. I'm not one of the

kids you can bully. Get this, and get this now. I am not

scared of you." Then I flung her wrist away from me, and

was totally shocked to see her stagger back several feet.

Rubbing her wrist, she glared at me. "Don't bother

showing up tomorrow. Consider yourself uninvited and no

longer a Dark Daughter.”

"Really?" I felt unbelievably calm. I knew I held the

trump card on this and I pulled it. "So you want to explain

to my mentor, High Priestess Neferet, the vamp whose idea

it was for me to join the Dark Daughters in the first place,

that you kicked me out because you're jealous that your exboyfriend likes me?”

Her face paled.

"Oh, and you may be very sure that I'll be totally,

completely upset when Neferet asks me about it." I sniffed

and sobbed a little like I was fake crying.

"Do you know what it's like to be a part of

something and have no one else in the group want you

there?" she snarled between her clenched teeth.

I felt my stomach clench and had to force myself not

to let her see she'd struck a nerve. Yes, I knew exactly what

it was like to be a part of something—a supposed family—

and have it feel like no one else wanted me there, but

Aphrodite wasn't going to know it. Instead I smiled, and in

my sweetest voice I said, "Why, whatever do you mean,

Aphrodite? Erik is part of the Dark Sons and just today at

lunch he told me how happy he was that I'd joined the Dark

Daughters.”

"Come to the ritual. Pretend you're part of the Dark

Daughters. But you'd better remember something. They're

my Dark Daughters. You're the outsider; the one who is not

wanted. And remember this, too. Erik Night and I have a

bond that you'll never understand. He's not my ex anything.

You didn't stay to see the end of our little game in the hall.

He was then and he is now exactly what I want him to be.

Mine." Then she tossed her very big, very blond hair and

stalked away.

About two breaths later Stevie Rae stuck her head

out from behind an old oak that was not far from the

sidewalk and said, "Is she gone?”

"Thankfully." I shook my head at Stevie Rae. "What

are you doing back there?”

"Are you kidding? I'm hiding. She scares the

bejezzus outta me. I was coming to meet you and saw the

two of you arguing. Man, she actually tried to hit you!”

"Aphrodite has some serious anger-management

issues." Stevie Rae laughed.

"Uh, Stevie Rae, you can come out from behind

there now." Still laughing, Stevie Rae practically skipped

over to me and linked her arm with mine. "You really stood

up to her!”

"I really did.”

"She really, really hates your guts.”

"She really, really does.”

"You know what that means?" Stevie Rae said.

"Yep. I don't have any choice now. I'm going to have

to take her down.”

"Yep.”

But I knew that I'd had no choice even before

Aphrodite tried to scratch my eyes out. I hadn't had any

choice since Nyx had placed her Mark on me. As Stevie

Rae and I walked together in the gaslight-illuminated

richness of the night, the Goddess's words repeated over

and over through my mind: You are old beyond your years,

Zoeybird. Believe in yourself and you will find a way. But

remember, darkness does not always equate to evil, just as

light does not always bring good.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

"I hope the rest of them can find it," I said, glancing

around me while Stevie Rae and I waited by the big oak

tree. "It didn't seem this dark last night.”

"It wasn't. It's really cloudy tonight, so the moon's

having trouble shining through. But don't worry, the Change

is doing really cool things for our night vision. Heck, I think

I can see as good as Nala." Stevie Rae scratched the cat

affectionately on her head and Nala closed her eyes and

purred. "They'll find us.”

I leaned against the tree and worried. Dinner had

been good— seriously yummy broiled chicken, seasoned

rice, and baby snow peas (one thing I could say for this

place, they could really cook)—yeah, everything had been

great. Until Erik had come by our table and said hi. Okay, it

wasn't really a "hi, Z, I still like you" hi. It was a "hi, Zoey."

Period. Yep. That was it. He'd gotten his food and was

walking with a couple other guys the Twins called hotties. I

will admit that I didn't even notice them. I was too busy

noticing Erik. They came to our table. I looked up and

smiled. He met my eyes for a millisecond, said, "Hi, Zoey,"

and walked on. And all of a sudden the chicken didn't taste

nearly as good.

"You just hurt his ego. Be nice to him and he'll ask

you out again," Stevie Rae said, bringing me and my

thoughts back to the present under the tree.

"How'd you know I was thinking about Erik?" I

asked. Stevie Rae had quit petting Nala, so I reached down

to scratch the cat on top of her head before she started

complaining at me.

"'Cause that's what I'd be thinking about.”

"Well, I should be thinking about the circle I have to

cast but have never cast before in my entire life, and the

purification ritual I have to perform, and not some boy.”

"He's not 'some boy: He's some fiiine boy,” Stevie

Rae drawled, making me laugh.

"You must be talking about Erik," Damien said,

stepping out of the shadow of the wall. "Don't worry. I saw

the way he was looking at you at lunch today. He'll ask you

out again.”

"Yeah, take it from him," Shaunee said.

"He is our group expert on All Things Penile," Erin

said as they joined them under the tree.

"Quite true,” Damien said.

Before they could make my head hurt I changed the

subject. "Did you get the stuff we need?”

"I had to mix the dried sage and lavender together

myself. I hope it's okay that I tied them like this." Damien

pulled the smudge stick of dried herbs out of his jacket

sleeve and handed it to me. It was thick and almost a foot

long, and right away I smelled the familiar sweetness of

lavender. He'd wrapped the bundle tightly together on one

end with what looked like extra-thick thread.

"It's perfect.” I smiled at him.

He looked relieved, and then said, a little shyly, "I

used my cross-stitch thread.”

"Hey, I told you before you shouldn't be ashamed

that you like to cross-stitch. I think it's a cute hobby. Plus,

you're really good at it," Stevie Rae said.

"I wish my dad thought so," Damien said.

I hated hearing the sadness in his voice. "I wish

you'd teach me sometime. I've always wanted to learn how

to cross-stitch," I lied, and was glad to see Damien's face

brighten.

"Anytime, Z," he said.

"How about the candles?" I asked the Twins.

"Hey, we told you. Easy…" Shaunee opened her

purse and pulled out green, yellow, and blue votives in

correspondingly colored thick glass cups.

"Peasy." From her purse Erin took a red and purple

votive in the same kind of colored containers.

"Good. Okay, let's see. Let's move over here, a little

way from the trunk, but close enough that we're still

standing under the branches." They followed me as I

walked a few paces from the tree. I looked at the candles.

What should I do? Maybe I should…And as I thought about

it, I knew. Without stopping to wonder how or why or

question the intuitive knowledge that had suddenly come to

me, I simply acted on it. "I'm going to give each of you a

candle. Then, just like the vamps in Neferet's Full Moon

Ritual, you're going to represent that element. I'll be spirit."

Erin handed me the purple votive. "I'm the center of the

circle. The rest of you take your places around me."

Without hesitation I took the red candle from Erin and

handed it to Shaunee. "You'll be fire.”

"Sounds good to me. I mean, everyone knows how

hot I am.”

She grinned and shimmied to the southern edge of

the circle. The green candle was next. I turned to Stevie

Rae. "You're earth."

"And green's my favorite color!" she said, happily

moving to stand across from Shaunee.

"Erin, you're water.”

"Good. I used to like to lay out, which involves

swimming when I needed to cool off." Erin moved to the

western position. "So I must be air," Damien said, taking

the yellow candle

"You are. Your element opens the circle.”

"Kinda like I wish I could open people's minds," he

said, moving to the eastern position.

I smiled warmly at him. "Yep. Kinda like that.”

"Okay. What's next?" Stevie Rae asked.

"Well, let's use the smoke from the smudge stick to

purify ourselves.” I set the purple candle at my feet so I

could concentrate on the smudge stick. Then I rolled my

eyes. "Well, hell. Did anyone remember matches or a

lighter or whatever?”

"Naturally," Damien said, pulling a lighter from his

pocket. "Thanks, air," I said.

"Don't mention it, High Priestess," he said.

I didn't say anything, but when he called me that a

shiver of excitement tingled through my body.

"Here's how you use the smudge stick," I said, glad

that my voice sounded way calmer than I felt. I stood in

front of Damien, deciding that I should begin where the

circle would be started. Realizing that I was eerily echoing

my Grandma and the lessons of my childhood, I began

explaining the process to my friends. "Smudging is a ritual

way to cleanse a person, place, or an object of negative

energies, spirits, or influences. The smudging ceremony

involves the burning of special, sacred plants and herbal

resins, then, either passing an object through the smoke, or

fanning the smoke around a person or place. The spirit of

the plant purifies whatever is being smudged." I smiled at

Damien. "Ready?”

"Affirmative,” he said in typical Damien fashion.

I lit the smudge stick and let the fire burn the dry

herbs for a little while, and then I blew them out so that all

that was left was a nicely smoking ember. Then, starting at

Damien's feet, I wafted smoke up his body while I

continued my explanation of the ancient ceremony.

"It's really important to remember that we're asking

the spirits of the sacred plants we're using to help us, and

we should show them proper respect by acknowledging

their powers.”

"What do lavender and sage do?" Stevie Rae asked

from across the circle.

While I smudged my way up Damien's body I

answered Stevie Rae. "White sage is used a lot in traditional

ceremonies. It drives out negative energies, spirits, and

influences. Actually, desert sage does the same thing, but I

like white sage better because it smells sweeter.” I'd made it

to Damien's head and I grinned at him. "Good choice,

Damien.”

"Sometimes I think I might be a little psychic,"

Damien said. Erin and Shaunee snorted, but we ignored

them.

"Okay, now turn clockwise and I'll finish up with

your back," I told him. He turned and I continued. "My

grandma always uses lavender in all of her smudge sticks.

I'm sure part of the reason is that she owns a lavender

farm.”

"Cool!" Stevie Rae said.

"Yeah, it's an awesome place." I smiled over my

shoulder at her, but I kept smudging Damien. "The other

part of the reason she uses lavender is because it is able to

restore balance and create a peaceful atmosphere. It also

draws loving energy and positive spirits." I tapped Damien's

shoulder so he'd turn around. "You're done." Then I moved

around the circle to Shaunee, who was representing the

element fire, and I began smudging her.

"Positive spirits?" Stevie Rae said, sounding young

and scared. "I didn't know we'd be calling anything more

than the elements to the circle.”

"Please. Just please, Stevie Rae," Shaunee said,

frowning through the smoke to Stevie Rae. "You can not be

a vampyre and be afraid of ghosts.”

"Nope. It doesn't even sound right," Erin said.

I glanced across the circle at Stevie Rae and our

eyes met briefly. We were both thinking about my

encounter with what might have been Elizabeth's ghost, but

neither of us seemed willing to talk about it.

"I'm not a vampyre. Yet. I'm just a fledgling. So it's

okay for me to be scared of ghosts.”

"Wait, isn't Zoey talking about Cherokee spirits?

They probably won't pay much attention to a ceremony

done by a bunch of vampyre fledglings whose non-Native

American-ness outweighs our High Priestess's Cherokeeness four to one," Damien said.

I finished with Shaunee and moved on to Erin. "I

don't think it matters that much what we are on the outside,"

I said, instantly feeling the rightness of what I was saying.

"I think what matters is our intent. It's kinda like this:

Aphrodite and her group are some of the best looking, most

talented kids at this school, and the Dark Daughters should

be an awesome club. But instead we call them the hags and

they're basically a bunch of bullies and spoiled brats.”

Wonder how Erik fit into all of that? Was he really just

`whatever' about the group, like he told me, or was he into it

more deeply than that, as Aphrodite implied?

"Or kids who have been bullied into joining and

who are just along for the ride," Erin said.

"Exactly." I mentally shook myself. Now was not

the time to daydream about Erik. I finished smudging Erin

and walked over to stand in front of Stevie Rae. "What I

mean is that I do think the spirits of my ancestors can hear

us, just like I think the spirits of the sage and the lavender

are working for us. But I don't think you have anything to

be afraid of, Stevie Rae. Our intention is not to call them

here so that we can use them to kick Aphrodite's ass.” I

paused in my smudging and added, "Even though the girl

definitely needs a good ass-kicking. And I don't think there

will be any scary ghosts hanging around tonight," I said

firmly, then handed Stevie Rae the smudge stick and said,

"Okay, now you do me.” She began mimicking my actions

and I relaxed into the familiar sweet smoke as it drifted

around me.

"We're not going to ask them to help us kick her

ass?" Shaunee definitely sounded disappointed.

"Nope. We're purifying ourselves so that we can ask

for Nyx's guidance. I don't want to beat Aphrodite up." I

remembered how good it'd felt to toss her away from me

and tell her off. "Well, okay, I might enjoy it, but the truth is

that doesn't solve the problem of the Dark Daughters.”

Stevie Rae was done smudging me and I took the

stick from her and carefully rubbed it out on the ground.

Then I returned to the center of the circle where Nala was

curled contentedly in a little orange ball beside the spirit

candle. I looked around at my friends. "It's true that we

don't like Aphrodite, but I think it's important not to focus

on negatives like kicking her ass or pushing her out of the

Dark Daughters. That's what she would do in our place.

What we want is what's right. More like justice than

revenge. We're different than her, and if we somehow

manage to take her place in the Dark Daughters, that group

will be different, too.”

"See, that's why you'll be the High Priestess and

Erin and I will just be your very attractive sidekicks.

Because we are shallow and we just want to knock her

bobble-head off her shoulders," Shaunee said while Erin

nodded.

"Positive thoughts only, please," Damien said

sharply. "We are in the middle of a purification ritual!’

Before Shaunee could do anything more than glare

at Damien, Stevie Rae chirped, "'Kay! I'm thinkin' only

positive things, like how great it would be if Zoey was

leader of the Dark Daughters!’

"Good idea, Stevie Rae," Damien said. "I'm thinking

the same.”

"Hey! That's my happy thought, too," Erin said.

"Peter Pan with me, Twin," she called to Shaunee, who

stopped scowling at Damien and said, "You know I'm

always up for some happy thoughts. And it would be damn

nice if Zoey was in charge of the Dark Daughters and on

her way to being High Priestess for real.”

High Priestess for real…I wondered briefly whether

it was a good or bad thing that those words made me feel as

if I might need to puke. Again. Sighing, I lit the purple

candle. "Ready?" I asked the four of them.

"Ready!" they said together.

"Okay, pick up your candles.”

Without hesitating (which meant I also wasn't giving

myself time to chicken out), I carried the candle over to

Damien. I wasn't experienced and brilliant like Neferet, or

seductive and confident like Aphrodite. I was just me. Just

Zoey—that familiar stranger who had gone from being an

almost normal high school kid to a truly unusual vampyre

fledgling. I took a deep breath. As my grandma would say,

all I could do was try my best.

"Air is everywhere, so it only makes sense that it is

the first element to be called into the circle. I ask that you

hear me, air, and I summon you to this circle." I lit

Damien's yellow candle with my purple one and instantly

the flame began to flicker crazily. I watched Damien's eyes

get big and round and startled-looking as wind suddenly

whipped in a mini-whirlwind around our bodies, lifting our

hair and brushing softly against our skin.

"It's true," he whispered, staring at me. "You can

actually manifest the elements.”

"Well," I whispered back, feeling lightheaded, "one

of them at least. Let's try for two.”

I walked over to Shaunee. She raised her candle

eagerly and made me smile when she said, "I'm ready for

fire—bring it on!”

"Fire reminds me of cold winter nights and the

warmth and safety of the fireplace that heats my grandma's

cabin. I ask that you hear me, fire, and I summon you to this

circle.” I lit the red candle and the flame blazed, much

brighter than should have been possible for an ordinary

votive. The air around Shaunee and me was suddenly filled

with the rich, woody scent and homey warmth of a roaring

fireplace.

"Wow!" Shaunee exclaimed, her dark eyes dancing

with the reflection of the candle's shimmering flame. "Now,

that's cool!"

"That's two," I heard Damien say.

Erin was grinning when I took my place in front of

her. "I'm ready for water," she said quickly.

"Water is relief on a hot Oklahoma summer day. It's

the amazing ocean that I really would like to see someday,

and it's the rain that makes the lavender grow. I ask that you

hear me, water, and I summon you to this circle.”

I lit the blue candle and felt instant coolness against

my skin, as well as smelled a clean, salty scent that could

only be the ocean I'd never seen.

"Awesome. Really, really awesome," Erin said,

drawing in a deep breath of ocean air.

"That's three," Damien said.

"I'm not scared anymore," Stevie Rae said when I

stood in front of her.

"Good," I said. Then I focused my mind on the

fourth element, earth. "Earth supports and surrounds us. We

wouldn't be anything without her. I ask that you hear me,

earth, and I summon you to this circle.” The green candle lit

easily, and suddenly Stevie Rae and I were overwhelmed

with the sweet scent of freshly cut grass. I heard the rustle

of the oak's leaves and we looked up to see the great oak

literally bowing its branches over us as though it would

shield us from all harm.

"Totally amazing," Stevie Rae breathed.

"Four," Damien said, his voice filled with

excitement.

I walked quickly to the center of the circle and lifted

my purple candle.

"The last element is one that fills everything and

everyone. It makes us unique and it breathes life into all

things. I ask that you hear me, spirit, and I summon you to

this circle.”

Incredibly, it seemed that I was suddenly surrounded

by the four elements, that I was in the middle of a whirlpool

made up of air and fire, water and earth. But it wasn't scary,

not at all. It filled me with peace, and at the same time I felt

a surge of white-hot power and had to press my lips tightly

together to keep from laughing with pure joy.

"Look! Look at the circle!" Damien shouted.

I blinked my vision clear and instantly felt the

elements settle down, as if they were playful kittens who

were sitting around me, waiting happily for me to call them

to bat at string and whatnot. I was smiling at the

comparison when I saw the glowing light that wrapped

around the circumference of the circle, joining Damien,

Shaunee, Erin, and Stevie Rae. It was bright and clear, and

the luminous silver of a full moon.

"And that makes five," Damien said.

"Holy crap!" I blurted, very un—High Priestess-like,

and the four of them laughed, filling the night with the

sounds of happiness. And I understood, for the first time,

why Neferet and Aphrodite had danced during the rituals. I

wanted to dance and laugh and shout with happiness.

Another time, I told myself. Tonight there was more serious

work to be done.

"Okay, I'm going to speak the purification prayer," I

told my four friends. "And while I say the prayer I'm going

to face each of the elements, one at a time.”

"What do you want us to do?" Stevie Rae asked.

"Focus on the prayer. Concentrate. Believe that the

elements will carry it to Nyx, and that the Goddess will

answer it by helping me to know what I should do," I said

with way more certainty than I felt.

Once again I faced east. Damien smiled

encouragement to me. And I began to recite the ancient

purification prayer I'd said so many times with my grandma

—with just a few changes I'd decided on earlier.

Great Goddess of Night, whose voice I hear in the

wind, who breathes the breath of life to Her children. Hear

me; I need your strength and wisdom.

I paused briefly as I turned to the south.

Let me walk in beauty, and make my eyes ever

behold the red and purple sunset that comes before the

beauty of your night. Make my hands respect the things you

have made and my ears sharp to hear your voice. Make me

wise so that I may understand the things you have taught

your people.

I turned again to the right, and my voice felt

stronger as I fell into the rhythm of the prayer.

Help me to remain calm and strong in the face of all

that comes toward me. Let me learn the lessons you have

hidden in every leaf and rock. Help me seek pure thoughts

and act with the intention of helping others. Help me find

compassion without empathy overwhelming me.

I faced Stevie Rae, whose eyes were squeezed shut

as though she was concentrating with all of her might.

I seek strength, not to be greater than others, but to

fight my greatest enemy, the doubts within myself

I walked back to the center of the circle and finished

the prayer, and for the first time in my life, I felt a flush of

sensation as the power of the ancient words rushed from me

to what I hoped with all my heart and soul was my listening

Goddess.

Make me always ready to come to you with clean

hands and straight eyes. So when life fades, as the fading

sunset, my spirit may come to you without shame.

Technically, that was the conclusion of the Cherokee

prayer my grandma had taught me, but I felt the need to

add: "And Nyx, I don't understand why you Marked me and

why you have given me the gift of an affinity for the

elements. I don't even have to know. What I want to ask is

that you help me know the right thing to do, and then give

me the courage to do it." And I finished the prayer the way I

remembered Neferet completed her ritual: "Blessed be!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

"That was truly the most prodigious circle-casting

I've ever experienced!" Damien gushed after the circle had

been closed and we were gathering up the candles and

smudge stick.

"I thought 'prodigious' meant 'big,' " Shaunee said.

"It also can show exciting wonder and can refer to

something stupendous and monumental," Damien said.

"For once I'm not going to argue with you," Shaunee

said, surprising everyone except Erin.

"Yeah, the circle was prodigious," Erin said.

"Do you know I actually could feel earth when Zoey

called it?" Stevie Rae said. "It was like I was suddenly

surrounded by a growing wheat field. No, it was more than

being surrounded by it. It was like I was suddenly a part of

it.”

"I know exactly what you mean. When she called

flame it was like the fire exploded through me," Shaunee

said.

I tried to understand what I was feeling while the

four of them talked happily together. I was definitely happy,

but overwhelmed and more than a little confused. So it was

true, I did have some kind of affinity with all five of the

elements.

Why?

Just to bring down Aphrodite? (Which, by the by, I

still didn't have a clue how to do.) No, I didn't think so.

Why would Nyx touch me with such unusual power just so

that I could kick a spoiled bully out of the leadership of a

club?

Okay, the Dark Daughters were more than a student

council or whatever, but still.

"Zoey, are you all right?”

The concern in Damien's voice made me look up

from Nala, and I realized that I was sitting in the middle of

what used to be the circle, with my cat on my lap,

completely engrossed in my own thoughts as I scratched her

head.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I'm fine, just a little distracted.”

"We should get back. It's getting late," Stevie Rae

said.

"Okay. You're right," I said, and got up, still holding

Nala. But I couldn't make my feet follow them as they

started to head back to the dorms.

"Zoey?”

Damien, the first to notice my hesitation, stopped

and called back to me, and then my other friends stopped,

looking at me with expressions that ranged from worried to

confused.

"Uh, why don't you guys go ahead? I'm going to

stay out here for just a little while longer.”

"We could stay with you and—" Damien began, but

Stevie Rae (bless her little bumpkin heart) interrupted him.

"Zoey needs to do some thinkin' on her own.

Wouldn't you if you just found out you were the only

fledgling in known history to have an affinity for all five

elements?”

"I suppose," Damien said reluctantly.

"But don't forget that it'll be getting light soon," Erin

said.

I smiled reassuringly at them. "I won't. I'll be back

at the dorm soon.”

"I'll make a sandwich for you and try to scare up

some chips to go with your brown non-diet pop. It's

important that a High Priestess eats after she performs a

ritual," Stevie Rae said with a smile and a wave as she

pulled the rest of the four along with her.

I called thanks to Stevie Rae as they disappeared

into the darkness. Then I walked over to the tree and sat

down, resting my back against its thick trunk. I closed my

eyes and petted Nala. Her purr was normal and familiar and

incredibly soothing, and it seemed to help ground me.

"I'm still me," I whispered to my cat. "Just like

Grandma said. All the other stuff can change, but what's

really Zoey—what's been Zoey for sixteen years—is still

Zoey.”

Maybe if I repeated it over and over enough to

myself, I'd actually believe it. I rested my face in one hand

and scratched my cat with the other, and told myself that I

was still me…still me…still me…

"See how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that

I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that

cheek!”

Nala "me-eeh-uf-owed" in complaint as I jumped in

surprise.

"Seems like I keep finding you by this tree," Erik

said, smiling down at me and looking like a god.

He made me feel all fluttery in my stomach, but

tonight he also made me feel something else. Just exactly

why did he keep "finding" me? And just exactly how long

had he been watching this time?

"What are you doing out here, Erik?”

"Hi, it's nice to see you, too. And, yes, I would like

to have a seat, thank you," he said and started to sit beside

me.

I stood up, making Nala mutter at me again.

"Actually, I was just going to go back to the dorm.”

"Hey, I didn't mean to intrude or whatever. I just

couldn't concentrate on my homework so I went for a walk.

I guess my feet carried me this way without me telling them

to, 'cause next thing I knew here I was and here you are. I'm

really not stalking you. Promise.”

He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked totally

embarrassed. Well, totally cute and embarrassed, and I

remembered how much I had wanted to say yes to him

earlier when he asked me to watch dorky movies with him.

And now here I was, rejecting him and making him

uncomfortable again. It's a wonder the kid ever talked to

me. Clearly, I was taking this High Priestess thing way too

seriously.

"So how about walking me back to my dorm?

Again," I asked. "Sounds good.”

This time Nala complained when I tried to carry her.

Instead she trotted along after us while Erik and I fell into

step together as easily as we had before. We didn't say

anything for a while. I wanted to ask him about Aphrodite,

or at the very least tell him what she'd said to me about him,

but I couldn't come up with a good way of saying

something that I probably didn't have any business

questioning him about.

"So what were you doing out here this time?" he

asked.

"Thinking," I said, which technically wasn't a lie. I

had been thinking. A lot. Before, during, and after the

circle-casting I was conveniently not going to mention.

"Oh. Are you worried about that Heath kid?”

Actually, I hadn't thought about Heath or Kayla

since I'd talked to Neferet, but I shrugged, not wanting to

get specific about what I'd been thinking.

"I mean, I guess it's probably hard to break up with

someone just because you got Marked," he said.

"I didn't break up with him because I got Marked.

He and I were pretty much finished before that. The Mark

just made it more final." I looked at Erik and took a deep

breath. "What about you and Aphrodite?”

He blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?”

"I mean today she told me that you'll never be her ex

because you'll always be hers.”

His eyes narrowed and he looked truly pissed.

"Aphrodite has a serious problem with telling the truth.”

"Well, not that it's any of my business, but—”

"It is your business," he said quickly. And then,

totally and utterly shocking me, he took my hand. "At least

I'd like it to be your business.”

"Oh," I said. "Okay, well, okay." Once again, I was

sure I was astounding him with my witty conversation

skills.

"So you weren't just avoiding me tonight; you really

had some thinking to do?" he asked slowly.

"I wasn't avoiding you. There's just …," I hesitated,

not sure how the hell to explain something I was pretty sure

I shouldn't explain to him. "There's a lot of stuff going on

with me right now. This whole Change thing is pretty

confusing sometimes.”

"It gets better," he said, squeezing my hand.

"Somehow, for me, I doubt it," I muttered.

He laughed and tapped my Mark with his finger.

"You're just ahead of some of the rest of us. That's hard at

first, but, believe me, it'll get easier—even for you.”

I sighed. "I hope so." But I doubted it.

We stopped in front of the dorm, and he turned to

me, his voice suddenly low and serious. "Z, don't believe

the crap Aphrodite says. She and I haven't been together in

months.”

"But you used to be," I said.

He nodded and his face looked strained.

"She's not a very nice person, Erik.”

"I know that.”

And then I realized what had really been bothering

me and decided, oh, well, what the hell, I'd just say it.

"I don't like it that you'd be with someone who's so

mean. It makes me feel funny about wanting to be with

you." He opened up his mouth to say something and I kept

talking, not wanting to hear excuses I wasn't sure that I

should or could believe. "Thanks for walking me home. I

am glad you found me again.”

"I'm glad I found you, too," he said. "I'd like to see

you again, Z, and not just by accident.”

I hesitated. And wondered why I was hesitating. I

did want to see him again. I needed to forget Aphrodite.

Seriously, she is really pretty and he is a guy. He probably

fell into her haggish (and hot) clutches before he knew what

was happening. I mean, she did kinda remind me of a

spider. I should be glad that she hadn't bitten his head off,

and give the guy a chance.

"Okay, how about I watch those dorky DVDs with

you Saturday?" I said before I could freakishly talk myself

out of going out with the most gorgeous guy at this school.

"It's a date," he said.

Obviously giving me time to pull away if I wanted

to, Erik slowly bent down and kissed me. His lips were

warm and he smelled really good. The kiss was soft and

nice. Honestly, it made me want him to kiss me more. Too

soon it was over, but he didn't move away from me. We

were standing close, and I realized that I had my hands on

his chest. His were resting lightly on my shoulders. I smiled

up at him.

"I'm glad you asked me out again,” I said.

"I'm glad you finally said yes," he said.

Then he kissed me again, only this time he wasn't

hesitant. The kiss deepened, and my arms went up around

his shoulders. I felt, more than heard, him moan and as he

kissed me long and hard it was like he flipped a switch

somewhere deep inside me, and hot, sweet, electric desire

flashed through me. It was crazy and amazing, and more

than anyone else's kisses had ever made me feel.

I loved the way my body fitted his, hard against soft,

and I pressed myself against him, forgetting about

Aphrodite and the circle I'd just cast and the entire rest of

the world. This time when we broke off the kiss we were

both breathing hard, and we stared at each other. As my

sense started to return to me I realized that I was totally

smushed against him and that I'd been standing there in

front of the dorm making out like a slut. I started to pull out

of his arms.

"What's wrong? Why do you suddenly look

different?" he said, tightening his arms around me.

"Erik, I'm not like Aphrodite." I pulled harder and he

let me go.

"I know you're not. I wouldn't like you if you were

like her.”

"I don't just mean my personality. I mean standing

out here making out with you isn't normal behavior for me.”

"Okay." He reached one hand toward me as though

he wanted to pull me back into his arms, but then he seemed

to change his mind and his hand fell to his side. "Zoey, you

make me feel different than anyone has ever made me feel

before.”

I felt my face getting hot and I couldn't tell if it was

from anger or embarrassment. "Don't patronize me, Erik. I

saw you in the hall with Aphrodite. You've clearly felt this

kind of stuff before, and more.”

He shook his head and I saw hurt in his eyes. "What

Aphrodite made me feel was all physical. What you make

me feel is about touching my heart. I know the difference,

Zoey, and I thought you did, too.”

I stared at him—at those gorgeous blue eyes that

had seemed to touch me the first time he looked at me. "I'm

sorry," I said softly. "That was mean of me. I do know the

difference.”

"Promise me that you won't let Aphrodite come

between us."

"I promise." It scared me, but I meant it.

"Good.”

Nala materialized out of the dark and started

winding around my legs and complaining. "I better get her

inside and put her to bed.”

"Okay." He smiled and gave me a quick kiss. "See

you Saturday, Z.”

My lips tingled all the way up to my room.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The next day started with what I looked back on

later as suspicious normalcy. Stevie Rae and I ate breakfast,

still whispering good gossip about how hot Erik was and

trying to figure out what I'd wear on our date Saturday. We

didn't even see Aphrodite or the hag triplets, Warlike,

Terrible, and Wasp. Vamp Soc class was so interesting—

we'd moved from the Amazons to learning about an ancient

Greek vampyre festival called Correia—that I'd stopped

thinking about the Dark Daughters ritual planned for that

evening, and for a little while I'd actually quit worrying

about what I was going to do about Aphrodite. Drama class

was good, too. I decided to do one of Kate's soliloquies

from The Taming of the Shrew (I've loved that play ever

since I saw the old movie starring Elizabeth Taylor and

Richard Burton). Then as I was leaving class Neferet

snagged me in the hall and asked how far I'd read in the

upper level Vamp Soc book. I'd had to tell her that I really

hadn't read much (translation: I hadn't read any) yet, and I

was totally distracted by her obvious disappointment in me

when I hurried into English class. I'd just taken my seat

between Damien and Stevie Rae when all hell broke loose,

and everything vaguely resembling anything normal about

the day ended.

Penthesilea was reading "You Go and I'll Stay a

While Chapter Four” of A Night to Remember. It's a really

good book, and we were all listening, as usual, then that

stupid Elliott kid started coughing. Jeesh, the kid was totally

and completely annoying.

Somewhere in the middle of the chapter and the

obnoxious coughing I started to smell something. It was

rich and sweet, delicious, and elusive. Automatically, I

inhaled deeply, still trying to concentrate on the book.

Elliott's coughing got worse, and with the rest of the

class, I turned to give him a dirty look. I mean, please.

Could he not get a cough drop or a drink or whatever?

And then I saw the blood.

Elliott wasn't in his usual slouched and sleeping

position. He was sitting straight up, staring at his hand,

which was covered with fresh blood. As I watched him, he

coughed again, making a nasty, wet sound that reminded me

of the day I'd been Marked. Only when Elliott coughed,

bright scarlet blood spewed from his mouth.

"Wh—?" he gurgled.

"Get Neferet!" Penthesilea snapped the command as

she jerked open one of her desk drawers, yanked out a

neatly folded towel, and moved quickly down the aisle to

Elliott. The kid who was sitting closest to the door took off.

In utter silence we watched Penthesilea make it to

Elliott just in time for his next bloody cough, which she

caught in the towel. He clutched the towel to his face,

hacking and spitting and gagging. When he finally looked

up, bloody tears were running down his pale, round face,

and blood was running from his nose like it was a faucet

someone had left on. When he turned his head to look up at

Penthesilea, I could see that there was a red stream coming

from his ear, too.

"No!" Elliott said with more emotion than I'd ever

heard him show. "No! I don't want to die!”

"Sssh," Penthesilea soothed, smoothing his orange

hair back from his sweaty face. "Your pain will end soon.”

"But—but, no I—" He started to protest again, in a

whiny voice that sounded more like his own, then he was

interrupted by another round of hacking coughs. He gagged

again, this time puking blood into the already soaked towel.

Neferet entered the room with two tall, powerfullooking vampyre men close behind her. They carried a flat

stretcher and a blanket; Neferet was carrying only a vial

filled with milky-colored liquid. Not two breaths behind

them, Dragon Lankford burst into the room.

"That's his mentor,” Stevie Rae whispered almost

soundlessly. I nodded, remembering when Penthesilea had

chastised Elliott for letting Dragon down.

Neferet handed Dragon the vial she'd been holding.

Then she stood behind Elliott. She put her hands on his

shoulders. Instantly, his gagging and coughing subsided.

"Drink this quickly, Elliott," Dragon told him. When

he started to weakly shake his head no, he added gently, "It

will make your pain end.”

"Will—will you stay with me?" Elliott gasped.

"Of course,” Dragon said. "I won't let you be alone

for even a moment.”

"Will you call my mom?" Elliott whispered.

"I will.”

Elliott closed his eyes for a second, and then, with

shaking hands he held the vial to his lips and drank. Neferet

nodded to the two men, and they picked him up and lay him

on the stretcher as if he was a doll and not a dying kid. With

Dragon by his side, they hurried from the room. Before

Neferet followed them she turned to face the shocked

classroom of third formers.

"I could tell you that Elliott will be fine—that he

will recover, but that would be a lie." Her voice was serene,

but filled with commanding strength. "The truth is his body

has rejected the Change. In minutes he will die the

permanent death and will not mature into a vampyre. I

could tell you not to worry, that it won't happen to you. But

this would be a lie, too. On average, one out of every ten of

you will not make the Change. Some fledglings die early in

their third former year, as is Elliott. Some of you will be

stronger and last until your sixth former year, and then

sicken and die suddenly. I tell you this not so that you will

live in fear. I tell you for two reasons. First, I want you to

know that as your High Priestess I will not lie to you, but

will help ease your passing into the next world if that time

comes. And second, I want you to live as you would be

remembered if you would die tomorrow, because you

might. Then if you do die your spirit can rest peacefully

knowing that you leave behind an honorable memory. If

you do not die, then you will have set the foundation for a

long life rich with integrity." She looked straight into my

eyes as she finished, saying, "I ask that Nyx's blessing

comfort you today, and that you remember death is a natural

part of life, even a vampyre life. For someday we all must

return to the bosom of the Goddess.” She closed the door

behind her with a sound that seemed to echo finality.

Penthesilea worked quickly and efficiently. Matterof-factly she cleaned up the spatters of blood that stained

Elliot's desk. When all evidence of the dying kid was gone,

she returned to the front of the class and led us in a moment

of silence for Elliott. Then she picked up the book and

began reading where she'd left off. I tried to listen. I tried to

block out the vision of Elliott bleeding out through his eyes

and ears and nose and mouth. And I also tried not to think

about the fact that the delicious smell I'd noticed had been,

without a doubt, Elliott's lifeblood pouring from his dying

body.

* * *

I know things are supposed to go on as usual after a

fledgling dies, but apparently it was unusual for two kids to

die so close together, and everyone was unnaturally quiet

for the rest of the day. Lunch was silent and depressing, and

I noticed that most of the food was picked at rather than

eaten. The Twins didn't even bicker with Damien, which

might have been a nice change if I hadn't known the awful

reason behind it. When Stevie Rae made some lame excuse

to leave lunch early and go back to the room before fifth

hour started, I was more than happy to say I'd go with her.

We walked along the sidewalk in the thick dark of

another cloudy night. Tonight the gaslights didn't feel

cheerful and warm. Instead they seemed cold and not bright

enough.

"No one liked Elliott, and somehow I think that

makes it worse," Stevie Rae said. "It was weirdly easier

with Elizabeth. At least we could feel honestly sorry she

was gone.”

"I know what you mean. I feel upset, but I know I'm

really upset that I saw what can happen to us and now I

can't get it out of my mind, and not upset that the kid's

dead.”

"At least it happens fast," she said softly.

I shivered. "I wonder if it hurts.”

"They give you something—that white stuff Elliott

drank. It makes it stop hurting, but it lets you be conscious

till the end. And Neferet always helps with the actual

dying.”

"It's scary, isn't it?" I said.

"Yeah.”

We didn't say anything for a while. Then the moon

peeped through the clouds, painting the leaves of the tree

with an eerie silver watercolor, and reminding me suddenly

of Aphrodite and her ritual.

"Any chance Aphrodite will cancel the Samhain

ritual tonight?"

"No way. The Dark Daughters' rituals are never

cancelled.”

"Well, hell," I said. Then I glanced at Stevie Rae.

"He was their refrigerator.”

She gave me a startled look. "Elliott?”

"Yeah, it was really gross, and he acted all drugged

and weird. He must have been starting to reject the Change

even then." There was an uncomfortable silence, and then I

added, "I didn't want to say anything to you before,

especially after you told me about…well…you know. Are

you sure Aphrodite won't cancel tonight? I mean, what with

Elizabeth and now Elliott.”

"It won't matter. And the Dark Daughters don't care

about the kid they use as a refrigerator. They'll just get

someone else.”

She hesitated. "Zoey, I've been thinking. Maybe

you shouldn't go tonight. I heard what Aphrodite said to you

yesterday. She's going to make sure no one accepts you.

She'll be really, really mean.”

"I'll be okay, Stevie Rae.”

"No, I have a bad feeling about it. You don't have a

plan yet, do you?”

"Well, no. I'm still in the reconnoitering stage I said,

trying to lighten up the conversation.

"Reconnoiter later. Today's been too awful.

Everyone's upset. I think you should wait.”

"I can't just not show up, especially after what

Aphrodite said to me yesterday. She'll think she told me and

now she can intimidate me.”

Stevie Rae took a deep breath. "Well, then I think

you should take me with you.” I started to shake my head

but she kept right on talking. "You're a Dark Daughter now.

Technically, you can invite people to the rituals. So invite

me. I'll go and watch your back.”

I thought about drinking blood and liking it so much

that it was obvious, even to Warlike and Terrible. And I

tried, and failed, not to think about the scent of blood—

Heath's and Erik's and even Elliott's. Stevie Rae would find

out someday how blood affected me, but it wouldn't be

tonight. Actually, if I could help it, it wouldn't be anytime

soon. I didn't want to chance losing her or the Twins or

Damien—and I was afraid I would. Yes, they knew I was

"special,” and they accepted me because that uniqueness

meant High Priestess to them, and that was good. My

bloodlust was not so good. Would they accept it as easily?

"No way, Stevie Rae.”

"But, Zoey, you shouldn't go into that hag pack

alone."

"I won't be alone. Erik will be there.”

"Yeah, but he used to be Aphrodite's boyfriend. Who

knows how good he'll be at standing up to her if she gets

real hateful with you.”

"Honey, I can stand up for myself.”

"I know, but—" She broke off and gave me a funny

look. "Z, are you vibrating?”

"Huh? Am I what?" And then I heard it, too, and

started laughing. "It's my cell phone. I stuck it in my purse

after it charged up last night." I pulled it out of my purse,

glancing at the time on the face dial. "It's past midnight,

who the heck…" Flipping the phone open I was shocked to

see that I had fifteen new text messages and five missed

calls. "Jeesh, someone's been calling and calling, and I

didn't even notice.” I checked the text messages first, and

felt my stomach start to clench as I read them.

Zo call me I stl luv u

Zo call me plz

Got 2 see u

U & Me

Will u call?

I wnt 2 talk 2 u Zo!

Call me bak

I didn't need to read any more of them. They were

all basically the same. "Ah, crap. They're all from Heath.”

"Your ex?”

I sighed. "Yeah.”

"What does he want?”

"Apparently, me." Reluctantly, I keyed in the code

to access my voice messages, and Heath's cute, dopey voice

shocked me with how loud and animated he sounded.

"Zo! Call me. Like, I know it's late, but…wait. It's

not late to you, but it's late to me. But that's okay 'cause I

don't care. I just want you to call me. Okay. So. Bye. Call

me.”

I groaned and deleted it. The next one sounded even

more manic.

"Zoey! Okay. You need to call me. Really. And don't

be mad. Hey, I don't even like Kayla. She's lame. I still love

you, Zo, only you. So call me. I don't care when. I'll just

wake up.”

"Man oh man," Stevie Rae said, easily overhearing

Heath's gushing. "The boy's obsessed. No wonder you

dumped him.”

"Yeah," I mumbled, quickly deleting the second

message. The third was much like the first two, only more

desperate. I turned the volume down and tapped my foot

impatiently while I went through all five messages, not

listening except to see when I could delete and move on to

the next one. "I gotta go see Neferet," I said, more to myself

than to Stevie Rae.

"How come? You need to block him from calling or

something?"

"No. Yeah. Something like that. I just need to talk to

her about, well, about what I should do.” I avoided Stevie

Rae's curious gaze.

"I mean, he's already showed up here once. I don't

want him to come by again and cause any trouble.”

"Oh, yeah, that's true. It'd be bad if he ran into Erik.”

"It'd be awful. Okay, I better hurry and try to catch

Neferet before fifth hour. I'll see you after school.”

I didn't wait for Stevie Rae's good-bye, but took off

in the direction of Neferet's room. Could this day get any

worse? Elliott dies and I'm attracted to his blood. I have to

go to the Samhain ritual tonight with a bunch of kids who

hate me and want to make sure I know it, and I've probably

Imprinted my ex-almost-boyfriend.

Yep. Today really, really sucked.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

If Skylar's hissing and growling hadn't caught my

attention, I would never have seen Aphrodite slumped in the

little alcove down the hall from Neferet's room.

"What is it, Skylar?" I held my hand out gingerly,

remembering what Neferet had said about her cat being a

known biter. I was also sincerely glad that Nala wasn't

tagging long after me as usual—Skylar would probably eat

my poor little cat for lunch. "Kitty-kitty," the big orange

tom gave me a considering look (probably considering

whether or not to bite the crap out of my hand). Then he

made his decision, un-puffed himself, and trotted over to

me. He rubbed around my legs, then he gave the alcove one

more good hiss before he took off, disappearing down the

hall in the direction of Neferet's room.

"What the hell was his problem?" I looked hesitantly

into the alcove, wondering what would make a mean cat

like Skylar puff up and hiss, and I felt a jolt of shock. She

was sitting right on the floor, hard to see in the shadow

under the ledge that held a pretty statue of Nyx. Her head

was tilted back, and her eyes were rolled so that only their

whites were showing. She scared the total crap out of me. I

felt frozen, expecting any second to see blood pouring

down her face. Then she moaned and muttered something I

couldn't understand while her eyeballs shifted around

behind her closed lids as though she was watching a scene.

I realized what must be happening. Aphrodite was having a

vision. She'd probably felt it coming on and hidden in the

alcove so no one would find her and she could keep her info

about the death and destruction she could prevent to her

hateful self. Cow. Hag.

Well, I was done letting her get away with that crap.

I bent down and grabbed her under the arms, pulling her to

her feet. (Let me tell you, she's a lot heavier than she looks.)

"Come on," I groaned, half carrying her while she

lurched blindly forward with me. "Let's take a little trip

down the hall and see what kind of tragedy you want to

keep quiet about.”

Thankfully, Neferet's room wasn't far away. We

staggered in and Neferet jumped up from behind her desk

and rushed to us.

"Zoey! Aphrodite! What?" But as soon as she got a

good look at Aphrodite, her alarm changed to calm

understanding. "Help me bring her over here to my chair.

She'll be more comfortable there.”

We led Aphrodite to Neferet's big leather chair, and

let her sink into it. Then Neferet crouched beside her and

took her hand.

"Aphrodite, with the Goddess's voice I beseech you

to tell her Priestess what it is you see." Neferet's voice was

soft, but compelling, and I could feel the power in her

command.

Aphrodite's eyelids instantly began to flicker, and

she drew a deep, gasping breath. Then they opened

suddenly. Her eyes looked huge and glassy.

"So much blood! There's so much blood coming out

of his body!”

"Who, Aphrodite? Center yourself. Focus and clear

the vision," Neferet commanded.

Aphrodite drew another gasping breath. "They're

dead! No. No. That can't be! Not right. No. Not natural! I

don't understand…I don't…" She blinked her eyes again,

and her gaze seemed to clear. She looked around the room,

like she didn't recognize anything. Her eyes touched me.

"You…," she said faintly. "You know.”

"Yeah," I said, thinking that I sure did know that she

was trying to hide her vision, but all I said was, "I found

you in the hall and—" Neferet's raised hand stopped me.

"No, she's not finished. She shouldn't be coming to

so soon. The vision is still too abstract," Neferet told me

quickly, and then she lowered her voice again and assumed

the compelling, commanding tone. "Aphrodite, go back.

See what it is you were meant to witness, and what you

were meant to change.”

Ha! Got you now. I couldn't help being a little smug.

After all, she had tried to scratch my eyes out yesterday.

"The dead…" Getting more and more difficult to

understand, Aphrodite murmured something that sounded

like "Tunnels…they kill…someone there…I don't…I

can't…" She was frantic, and I almost felt sorry for her.

Clearly, whatever she was seeing was freaking her out.

Then her searching eyes found Neferet, and I saw

recognition flash through them and I started to relax. She

was coming around and this whole weirdness would be

cleared up. And just as I thought that, Aphrodite's eyes,

which seemed to be locked on Neferet, widened

unbelievably. A look of pure terror blanked her face and she

screamed.

Neferet clamped her hands on Aphrodite's trembling

shoulders. "Awaken!" She spared hardly a glance over her

shoulder at me to say, "Go now, Zoey. Her vision is

confused. Elliott's death has upset her. I need to be certain

she is herself once more.”

I didn't need to be told twice. Heath's obsession

forgotten, I got the hell outta there and headed to Spanish

class.

I couldn't concentrate on school. I kept replaying the

weird scene with Neferet and Aphrodite over and over in

my head. She'd obviously been having a vision about

people dying, but from Neferet's reaction it hadn't behaved

like a normal vision (if there was such a thing). Stevie Rae

had said that Aphrodite's visions were so clear that she

could direct people to the right airport and even the specific

plane she'd seen crashing. Yet today, all of a sudden,

nothing was clear. Well, nothing but seeing me and saying

weird stuff, and then screaming her brains out at Neferet. It

so didn't make sense. I was almost looking forward to

seeing how she'd act tonight. Almost.

I put away Persephone's curry brushes and picked

up Nala, who'd been perched on top of the horse's feeder

watching and making her weird me-eeh-uf-ows at me, and

started slowly back to the dorm. This time Aphrodite didn't

hassle me, but when I rounded the corner by the old oak

Stevie Rae, Damien, and the Twins were huddled together

doing a lot of talking—that suddenly shut up when I came

into view. They all looked guiltily at me. It was pretty easy

to guess who they'd been talking about.

"What?" I said.

"We were just waiting for you," Stevie Rae said. Her

usual perkiness was missing.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked.

"She's worried about you," Shaunee said.

"We're worried about you," Erin said.

"What's going on with your ex?" Damien asked.

"He's buggin', that's all. If he didn't bug, he wouldn't

be my ex." I tried to speak nonchalantly, without looking

any of the four of them in the eye too long. (I've never been

a particularly good liar.)

"We think I should go with you tonight," Stevie Rae

said.

"Actually, we think we should go with you tonight,"

Damien corrected.

I frowned at them. No possible way I wanted all

four of them to watch me drink whatever loser kid's blood

they managed to mix into the wine tonight.

"No.”

"Zoey, it's been a really bad day. Everyone's

stressed. Plus, Aphrodite is out to get you. It makes sense

that we should stick together tonight," Damien said

logically.

Yeah, it was logical, but they didn't know the whole

story. I didn't want them to know the whole story. Yet. The

truth was, I cared too much about them. They made me feel

accepted and safe—they made me feel like I fit in here. I

couldn't risk losing that right now, not when all of this was

still so new and so scary. So I did what I had learned to do

too well at home when I was scared and upset and didn't

know what else to do—I got pissed and defensive.

"You guys say that I have powers that will someday

make me your High Priestess?" They all nodded eagerly

and smiled at me, which squeezed my heart. I gritted my

teeth and made my voice real cold. "Then you need to listen

to me when I say no. I don't want you there tonight. This is

something I have to deal with. Alone. And I don't want to

talk about it anymore.”

And then I stomped away from them.

Naturally, within half an hour I was sorry I'd been so

awful. I paced back and forth under the big oak that had

somehow become my sanctuary, annoying Nala and

wishing that Stevie Rae would show up so I could

apologize. My friends didn't know why I didn't want them

there. They were just looking out for me. Maybe…maybe

they would understand about the blood thing. Erik seemed

to understand. Okay, sure, he was a fifth former, but still.

We were all supposed to go through it. We were all

supposed to start craving blood—or we died. I brightened a

little and scratched Nala's head.

"When the alternative is death, blood drinking

doesn't seem so bad. Right?”

She purred, so I took that as a yes. I checked the

time on my watch. Crap. I had to go back to the dorm,

change my clothes, and go meet the Dark Daughters.

Listlessly, I started following the wall back. It was a cloudy

night again, but I didn't mind the darkness. Actually, I was

starting to like the night. I should. It was going to be my

element for a very long time. If I lived. As though she could

read my morbid thoughts, Nala "me-eeh-uf-owed" grumpily

at me as she trotted along beside me.

"Yeah, I know. I shouldn't be so negative. I'll work

on that right after I—”

Nala's low growl surprised me. She'd stopped. Her

back was arched and her hair was standing on end, making

her look like a fat little puffball, but her slitted eyes were no

joke, and neither was the ferocious hiss that snaked from

her mouth. "Nala, what…”

A terrible chill fingered its way down my spine even

before I turned to look in the direction my cat was staring.

Later, I couldn't figure out why I didn't scream. I remember

my mouth opening so I could gulp air, but I was absolutely

silent. It seemed I'd gone numb, but that was impossible. If

I'd been numb there's no way I could have been so

thoroughly petrified.

Elliott was standing not ten feet from me in the

darkness that shadowed the space next to the wall. He must

have been heading in the same direction Nala and I were

walking. Then he'd heard Nala, and half turned back toward

us. She hissed again at him and, with a frighteningly quick

movement he whirled around to fully face us.

I swear I couldn't breathe. He was a ghost—he had

to be, but he looked so solid, so real. If I hadn't watched his

body rejecting the Change, I would have thought he was

just looking especially pale and…and… weird. He was

abnormally white, but there was more wrong about him

than that. His eyes had changed. They reflected what little

light there was and they glowed a terrible rust red, like

dried blood.

Exactly as the ghost of Elizabeth's eyes had glowed.

There was something else different about him, too.

His body looked strange—thinner. How was that possible?

The smell came to me then. Old and dry and out of place,

like a closet that hadn't been opened in years or a creepy

basement. It was the same smell I'd noticed just before I'd

seen Elizabeth.

Nala growled and Elliott dropped into an odd, half

crouch and hissed back at her. Then he bared his teeth, and I

could see that he had fangs! He took a step toward Nala as

if he was going to attack her. I didn't think, I just reacted.

"Leave her alone and get the hell out of here!" It

amazed me that I sounded like I wasn't doing anything more

exciting than yelling at a bad dog, because I was definitely

scared totally shitless.

His head swiveled in my direction and the glow of

his eyes touched me for the first time. Wrong! The intuitive

voice inside me that had become familiar was screaming.

This is an abomination!

"You…" His voice was horrible. It was raspy and

guttural, as if something had damaged his throat. "I will

have you!" And he began to come toward me.

Raw fear engulfed me like a bitter wind.

Nala's battle yowl rent the night as she hurled

herself at Elliott's ghost. In complete shock I watched,

expecting the cat to go spitting and clawing through empty

air. Instead she landed on his thigh, claws extended,

scratching and howling like an animal three times her size.

He screamed, grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, and

threw her away from him. Then, with impossible speed and

strength he literally leaped to the top of the wall, and

disappeared into the night that surrounded the school.

I was shaking so hard that I stumbled. "Nala!" I

sobbed. "Where are you, little girl?”

Puffed up and growling, she padded over to me, but

her slitted eyes were still focused on the wall. I crouched

beside her, and with shaking hands checked to make sure

she felt all in one piece. She felt unbroken, so I scooped her

up and began jogging away from the wall as fast as I could.

"It's okay. We're okay. He's gone. What a brave girl

you were.” I kept talking to her. She perched halfway over

my shoulder so that she could see behind us, and she

continued to growl.

When I got to the first gaslight, not far from the rec

hall, I stopped and shifted Nala's position so that I could

look more closely to see that she was really okay. What I

found made my stomach clench so hard I thought I was

going to throw up. On her paws was blood. Only it wasn't

Nala's. And it didn't smell delicious like other blood had

smelled. Instead it carried the scent of musty dryness, old

basements. I forced myself not to retch as I wiped her paws

on the winter grass. Then I picked her up again and hurried

down the sidewalk that led to the dorm. Nala never stopped

looking behind us and growling.

Stevie Rae, the Twins, and Damien were all

conspicuously absent from the dorm. They weren't

watching TV—they weren't in the computer room or the

library, and they weren't in the kitchen, either. I climbed

quickly up the stairs, hoping desperately that at least Stevie

Rae would be in our room. No such luck.

I sat on my bed, petting the still distraught Nala.

Should I try to find my friends? Or should I just stay here?

Stevie Rae would eventually come back to our room. I

looked at her gyrating Elvis clock. I had about ten minutes

to get changed and to the rec hall. But how could I go on to

the ritual after what had just happened?

What had just happened?

A ghost had tried to attack me. No. That wasn't

right. How could ghosts bleed? But had it been blood? It

didn't smell like blood. I had no idea what was going on.

I should go directly to Neferet and tell her what had

happened. I should get up right now and take myself and

my freaked-out cat to Neferet and tell her about Elizabeth

last night and now Elliott tonight. I should… I should…

No. This time it wasn't a scream within me. It was

the strength of certainty. I could not tell Neferet, at least not

at that moment.

"I have to go to the ritual." I said aloud the words

that were echoing through my mind. "I have to be at this

ritual.”

As I pulled on the black dress and searched around

the closet for my ballet flats I felt myself becoming very

calm. Things here didn't play by the same rules as they did

in my old world—in my old life—and it was time I

accepted that and started getting used to it.

I had an affinity for the five elements, which meant

that I had been gifted with incredible powers by an ancient

goddess. As Grandma had reminded me, with great power

comes great responsibility. Maybe I was being allowed to

see things—like ghosts that didn't act or look or smell like

ghosts should—for a reason. I didn't know what that meant

yet. Actually, I didn't know much besides the two thoughts

that were clearest in my mind: I couldn't tell Neferet, and I

had to go to the ritual.

Hurrying to the rec hall I tried to at least think

positively. Maybe Aphrodite would not show up tonight, or

be there but forget to harass me.

It turned out, as my luck would have it, neither was

the case.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

"Nice dress, Zoey. It looks just like mine. Oh, wait!

It used to be mine." Aphrodite laughed a throaty, I'm-sogrown-up-and-you're-just-a-kid laugh. I really hate it when

girls do that. I mean, yes, she's older, but I have boobs, too.

I smiled, purposefully putting an extra dose of

cluelessness into my voice and launched into a gihugic lie,

which I think I pulled off pretty well considering I'm a bad

liar, I had just been attacked by a ghost, and everybody was

staring at us and listening in.

"Hi, Aphrodite! Gosh, I was just reading the chapter

in the Soc 415 book Neferet gave me about how important

it is for the leader of the Dark Daughters to make every new

member of the group feel welcome and accepted. You must

be proud that you're doing your job so well.” Then I stepped

a little closer to her and lowered my voice so she alone

could hear me. "And I must say you look better than you

did the last time I saw you." I watched her pale and was

sure fear flickered through her eyes. Surprisingly, it didn't

make me feel victorious and smug. It just made me feel

mean and shallow and tired. I sighed. "Sorry. I shouldn't

have said that.”

Her face hardened. "Fuck off, freak," she hissed.

Then she laughed as though she'd just made a huge joke (at

my expense), turned her back on me, and with a hateful flip

of her hair walked to the middle of the rec hall.

Okay, I didn't feel bad anymore. Hateful cow. She

raised one slim arm, and everyone who had been gawking

at me now turned their attention (thankfully) to her. Tonight

she had on an antique-looking red silk dress that fit her as if

it had been painted on. I'd like to know just exactly where

she got her clothes. Goth ho store?

"A fledgling died yesterday, and then another one

died today.”

Her voice was strong and clear, and sounded almost

compassionate, which surprised me. For a second she really

did remind me of Neferet, and I wondered whether she was

going to say something profound and leader-like.

"We all knew both of them. Elizabeth had been nice

and quiet. Elliott had been our refrigerator for the past

several rituals." She smiled suddenly; it was feral and mean,

and any resemblance she might have had to Neferet ended.

"But they were weak, and vampyres do not need weakness

in their coven." She shrugged her scarlet-covered shoulders.

"If we were humans we'd call it survival of the fittest.

Thank the Goddess we're not humans, so let's just call it

Fate, and be happy tonight that it didn't kick any of our

asses.”

I was totally grossed out to hear sounds of general

agreement. I hadn't really known Elizabeth, but she'd been

nice to me. Okay, I admit that I hadn't liked Elliott—no one

had. The kid was annoying and unattractive (and his ghost

or whatever seemed to be carrying on those traits), but I

was not glad he died. If I'm ever leader of the Dark

Daughters I won't make fun of the death of a fledgling, no

matter how insignificant. I made the promise to myself, but

I was also conscious of sending it out like a prayer. I hoped

Nyx heard me, and I hoped she approved.

"But enough gloom and doom," Aphrodite was

saying. "It's Samhain! The night when we celebrate the end

of the harvest season and, even better, it is the time when

we remember our ancestors—all the great vampyres who

have lived and died before us." The tone of her voice was

creepy, like she was getting into the show she was putting

on way too much, and I rolled my eyes as she continued.

"It's the night when the veil between life and death is

thinnest and when spirits are most likely to walk the earth."

She paused and looked around the audience, being careful

to ignore me (like everyone else was). I had a moment to

wonder about what she'd just said. Could what have

happened with Elliott have something to do with the veil

between life and death being thinnest, and the fact that he

had died on Samhain? I didn't have time to wonder any

more about it because Aphrodite raised her voice and

shouted, "So what are we going to do?”

"Go out!" the Dark Daughters and Sons yelled back.

Aphrodite's laugh was way too sexual to be

appropriate, and I swear she touched herself. Right there in

front of everyone. Jeesh, she was nasty.

"That's right. I've chosen an awesome place for us

tonight, and we even have a new little refrigerator waiting

for us there with the girls.”

Ugh. By "the girls" did she mean Warlike, Terrible,

and Wasp? I glanced quickly around the room. Didn't see

them anywhere. Great. I could only imagine what those

three plus Aphrodite would consider "awesome." And I

didn't even want to think about the poor kid who had

somehow been talked into being their new refrigerator.

And, yes, I was going to be in total denial about the

fact that my mouth watered when Aphrodite mentioned that

there was a refrigerator waiting for us, which meant I was

going to get to drink blood again.

"So let's get out of here. And remember, be silent.

Focus your minds on being invisible, and any human who

happens to still be awake will simply not see us." Then she

looked right at me. "And may Nyx have mercy on anyone

who gives us away, because we certainly won't." She smiled

silkily back at the group. "Follow me, Dark Daughters and

Sons!”

In silent pairs and small groups, everyone followed

Aphrodite out the back door of the rec hall. Naturally, they

ignored me. I almost didn't follow them. I really didn't want

to. I mean, I'd had enough excitement for one night. I

should go back to the dorm and apologize to Stevie Rae.

Then we could find the Twins and Damien, and I could tell

them about Elliott (I paused to consider whether my gut

feeling was warning me against telling my friends, but it

stayed silent). Okay. So. I could tell them. That sounded

like a better idea than following bitchy Aphrodite and a

group of kids who couldn't stand me. But my intuition,

which had been quiet when I'd thought about talking to my

friends, suddenly reared up again. I had to go to the ritual. I

sighed.

"Come on, Z. You don't want to miss the show, do

you?”

Erik was standing by the back door, looking like

Superman with his blue eyes smiling at me.

Well, hell.

"Are you kidding? Hateful girls, totally cliquish

drama-trauma, and the possibility for embarrassment and

bloodletting. What's not to love? I wouldn't miss a minute

of it.” Together Erik and I followed the group out the door.

Everyone was walking quietly to the wall behind the

rec hall, which was too close to where I'd seen Elizabeth

and Elliott for me to feel comfortable. And then, weirdly,

the kids seemed to disappear into the wall.

"What the—?" I whispered.

"It's just a trick. You'll see.”

I did. It was actually a trap door. Like the kind you

see in those old murder movies, only instead of a door in a

library wall or inside a fireplace (as in one of the Indiana

Jones movies—yes, I'm a dork), this trap door was a small

section of the thick, otherwise solid-looking school wall.

Part of it swung out, leaving an open space just big enough

for one person (or fledgling or vamp or possibly even a

freakishly solid ghost or two) to slip through. Erik and I

were the last ones through. I heard a soft whoosh, and

looked back in time to see the wall closing seamlessly.

"It's on an automatic keypad, like a car door," Erik

whispered. "Huh. Who all knows about this?”

"Anyone who's ever been a Dark Daughter or Son.”

"Huh." I suspected that was probably most of the

adult vamps. I glanced around. I didn't see anyone watching

us, or following us.

Erik noticed my look. "They don't care. It's school

tradition that we sneak out for some of the rituals As long as

we don't do anything too stupid, they pretend like they don't

know we're going." He shrugged. "It works out okay, I

guess.”

"As long as we don't do anything too stupid," I said.

"Shush!" Someone in front of us hissed. I closed my

mouth and decided to concentrate on where we were going.

It was about four thirty A.M. Uh, no one was awake.

Big surprise. It was weird to be walking through this really

cool part of Tulsa—a neighborhood filled with mansions

built by old oil money—and have nobody notice us. We

were cutting through amazingly landscaped yards and no

dogs were even barking at us. It was as if we were

shadows…or ghosts.…The thought gave me a creepy chill.

The moon that earlier had been mostly obscured by clouds

was now shining silver-white in an unexpectedly clear sky. I

swear that even before I was Marked I could have read by

its light. It was cold, but that didn't bother me like it would

have just a week ago. I tried not to think about what that

meant about the Change that was going on inside my body.

We crossed a street, then slid soundlessly between

two yards. I heard running water before I saw the little

footbridge. The moonlight lit up the stream as though

someone had spilled mercury across the top of it. I felt

captured by its beauty, and I automatically slowed down,

reminding myself that night was my new day. I hoped that I

would never get used to the dark majesty of it.

"Come on, Z," whispered Erik from the other side of

the bridge.

I looked up at him. He was silhouetted against an

incredible mansion that stretched up the hill behind him

with its huge, terraced lawn and pond and gazebo and

fountains and waterfalls (these people clearly had entirely

too much money), and he reminded me of one of those

romantic heroes out of history, like…like…Well, the only

two heroes I could think of were Superman and Zorro, and

neither of them were truly historical. But he did look very

knight-like and romantic. And then it registered on me

exactly which amazing mansion we were trespassing on,

and I hurried across the bridge to him.

"Erik," I whispered frantically, "this is the Philbrook

Museum! We're really going to get in trouble if they catch

us messing around here.”

"They won't catch us.”

I had to scramble to keep up with him. He was

walking fast, much more eager than me to catch up with the

silent, ghostlike group.

"Okay, this isn't just some rich guy's house. This is a

museum. There are twenty-four-hour security guards here.”

"Aphrodite will have drugged them.”

"What!”

"Ssssh. It doesn't hurt them. They'll be groggy for a

while and then go home and not remember anything. No big

deal.”

I didn't reply, but I really didn't like that he was so

'whatever' about drugging security guards. It just didn't

seem right, even though I could understand the need for it.

We were trespassing. We didn't want to get caught. So the

guards needed to be drugged. I got it. I just didn't like it,

and it sounded like yet another thing that was begging to be

changed about the Dark Daughters and their holier-thanthou attitudes. They reminded me more and more of the

People of Faith, which was not a flattering comparison.

Aphrodite wasn't God (or Goddess, for that matter), despite

what she called herself.

Erik had stopped walking. We stepped up to join the

group where it had formed a loose circle around the domed

gazebo situated at the bottom of the gentle slope that led up

to the museum. It was close to the ornamental fishpond that

ended right before the terraces leading up to the museum

began. It really was an incredibly beautiful place. I'd been

there two or three times on field trips, and once, with my

Art class, I'd even been inspired to sketch the gardens, even

though I definitely can not draw. Now the night had

changed it from a place with pretty, well-tended gardens

and marble water features into a magical fairy kingdom all

washed in the light of the moon and shaded by layers of

grays and silvers and midnight blues.

The gazebo itself was amazing. It sat on the top of

huge round stairs, throne-like, so that you had to climb up

to it. It was made of carved white columns, and the dome

was lit from beneath, so that it looked like something that

could have been found in ancient Greece, and then restored

to its original glory and lit for the night to see.

Aphrodite climbed the stairs to take her place in the

middle of the gazebo, which immediately sucked some of

the magic and beauty from it. Naturally, Warlike, Terrible,

and Wasp were there, too. Another girl was with them, who

I didn't recognize. Of course I could have seen her a zillion

times and wouldn't have remembered—she was just another

Barbie-like blond (although her name probably meant

something like Wicked or Hateful). They'd set up a little

table in the middle of the gazebo and draped it with black

cloth. I could see that there were a bunch of candles on it,

and some other stuff, including a goblet and a knife. Some

poor kid was slumped with his head down on the table. A

cloak had been pulled around him, so that it covered his

body, and he looked a lot like Elliott on the night he'd been

the refrigerator.

It must really take a lot out of a kid to have his

blood drained for Aphrodite's rituals, and I wondered

whether that had anything to do with bringing on Elliott's

death. I blocked from my mind the fact that my mouth

started watering when I thought about the kid's blood being

mixed with the wine in the goblet. Weird how something

could totally gross me out and make me want it really bad

at the same time.

"I will cast the circle and call the spirits of our

ancestors to dance within it with us," Aphrodite said. She

spoke softly, but her voice traveled around us like a

poisonous mist. It was spooky to think about ghosts being

drawn to Aphrodite's circle, especially after my own recent

experiences with ghosts, but I have to admit that it intrigued

me almost as much as it scared me. Maybe I was so certain

I had to be here because I was meant to get some clue about

Elizabeth and Elliott tonight. Plus, this ritual was obviously

something the Dark Daughters had been doing for a while.

It couldn't be that scary or dangerous. Aphrodite played all

big and cool, but I had a feeling that it was an act.

Underneath she was what all bullies are—insecure and

immature. Also, bullies tended to avoid anyone tougher

than them, so it was only logical that if Aphrodite was

going to call spirits into a circle it meant that they were

harmless, probably even nice. Aphrodite was definitely not

going to face down a big, bad, boogie monster.

Or anything as truly freaky as what Elliott had

become.

I started to relax into welcoming what was already

becoming a familiar hum of power as the four Dark

Daughters took candles that corresponded to the element

they were representing, and then moved to the correct area

of the mini-circle in the gazebo. Aphrodite summoned

wind, and my hair lifted gently in a breeze that only I could

feel. I closed my eyes, loving the electricity that tingled

across my skin. Actually, in spite of Aphrodite and the

stuck-up Dark Daughters, I was already enjoying the

beginning of the ritual. And Erik was standing beside me,

which helped me not to care that no one else there would

talk to me.

I relaxed more, certain suddenly that the future

wasn't going to be that bad. I'd make up with my friends,

we'd figure out together what the hell was going on with the

weird ghosts, and maybe I'd even get a totally hot

boyfriend. Everything would be okay. I opened my eyes and

watched Aphrodite move around the circle. Each element

sizzled through me, and I wondered how Erik could stand

so close to me and not notice it. I even snuck a peek at him,

half expecting him to be staring at me as the elements

played over my skin, but, like everyone else, he was

looking at Aphrodite. (Which was actually annoying—

wasn't he supposed to be sneaking looks at me, too?) Then

Aphrodite began the ritual of summoning of the ancestral

spirits, and even I couldn't keep my attention from her. She

stood at the table, holding a long braid of dried grass over

the purple spirit flame, so that it lit quickly. She allowed it

to burn for a little while, and then blew it out. She waved it

gently around her as she began to speak, filling the area

with tendrils of smoke. I sniffed, recognizing the scent of

sweet grass, one of the most sacred of ceremonial herbs

because it attracted spiritual energy. Grandma used it often

in her prayers. Then I frowned and felt a tendril of worry.

Sweet grass should be used only after sage has been burned

to cleanse and purify the area; if not, it might attract any

energy—and "any" didn't always mean good. But it was too

late to say anything, even if I could have stopped the

ceremony. She had already begun calling to the spirits, and

her voice had taken on an eerie, singsong quality that was

somehow intensified by the smoke that curled thickly

around her.

On this Samhain night, hear my ancient call all you

spirits of our ancestors. On this Samhain night, let my voice

carry with this smoke to the Otherworld where bright

spirits play in the sweet grass mists of memory. On this

Samhain night I do not call the spirits of our human

ancestors. No, I let them sleep; I have no need for them in

life or in death. On this Samhain night I call magical

ancestors— mystical ancestors—those who were once more

than human, and who, in death, are more than human.

Completely entranced, I watched with everyone else

as the smoke swirled and changed and began to take on

forms. At first I thought I was seeing things, and I tried to

blink my vision clear, but soon I understood what I was

seeing had nothing to do with blurry vision. There were

people forming within the smoke. They were indistinct,

more like the outlines of bodies than actual bodies

themselves, but as Aphrodite continued to wave the sweet

grass they grew more substantial, and then suddenly the

circle was filled with spectral figures that had dark,

cavernous eyes and open mouths.

They didn't look anything like Elizabeth or Elliott.

Actually, they looked exactly as I imagined ghosts would—

smoky and transparent and creepy. I sniffed the air. Nope, I

definitely didn't smell any old basement yuckiness.

Aphrodite put down the still-smoking grass and

picked up the goblet. Even from where I was watching, it

seemed that she looked unusually pale, as though she had

taken on some of the physical characteristics of the ghosts.

Her red dress was almost painfully bright within the circle

of smoke and gray and mist.

"I greet you, ancestral spirits, and ask that you

accept our offering of wine and blood so that you may

remember what it is to taste life." She lifted the goblet, and

the smoky shapes churned and roiled with obvious

excitement. "I greet you, ancestral spirits, and within the

protection of my circle I—”

"Zo! I knew I'd find you if I tried hard enough!”

Heath's voice sliced through the night, cutting off

Aphrodite's words.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

"Heath! What in the hell are you doing here!”

"Well, you didn't call me back.” Oblivious to

everyone else, he hugged me. I didn't need the bright light

of the moon for me to see his bloodshot eyes. "I missed

you, Zo!" he blurted, wafting beer breath all over me.

"Heath. You need to go—”

"No. Let him stay," Aphrodite interrupted me.

Heath's gaze swiveled up to her, and I imagined

what she must look like through his eyes. She stood in the

pool of light made by the gazebo's spotlights shining

through the sweet grass smoke, illuminating her almost as

though she was underwater. Her red silk dress clung to her

body. Her blond hair was thick and heavy down her back.

Her lips were tilted up in a mean-looking smile, which I'm

sure Heath would misunderstand and think she was being

nice. Actually, he probably wouldn't even notice the smoky

ghosts that had stopped hovering around the goblet and had

now turned their blank eyes toward him. He also wouldn't

notice that Aphrodite's voice had a weird, hollow sound to it

and that her eyes were glassy and staring. Hell, knowing

Heath he wouldn't notice anything except her big boobies.

"Cool, a vampyre chick," Heath said, totally proving

me right.

"Get him out of here.” Erik's voice was tight with

worry.

Heath tore his eyes from Aphrodite's boobs to glare

at Erik. "Who're you?”

Ah, crap. I recognized that tone. It was the one

Heath used when he was getting ready to have a jealous fit.

(Another reason he was my ex.)

"Heath, you need to get out of here,” I said.

"No." He stepped closer to me and put his arm

possessively around my shoulders, but he didn't look at me.

He kept staring down Erik. "I came to see my girlfriend,

and I'm gonna see my girlfriend.”

I ignored the fact that I could feel Heath's pulse

where his arm rested against my shoulders. Instead of doing

something utterly gross and disturbing, like biting into his

wrist, I shrugged off his arm and then yanked at it so he had

to face me and not Erik.

"I am not your girlfriend.”

"Aw, Zo, you're just sayin' that.”

I gritted my teeth. God, he was dumb. (Yet another

reason he was my ex.)

"Are you stupid?" Erik said.

"Look, you bloodsucking fuck, I'm—" Heath began

to say, but Aphrodite's strangely echoing voice drowned

him out.

"Come up here, human.”

Like our eyes were magnets to her freaky attraction,

Heath, Erik, and I (and, for that matter, the rest of the Dark

Daughters and Sons) stared up at her. Her body looked

weird. Was it pulsing? How could it? She flipped back her

hair and ran one hand down her body like a nasty stripper,

cupping her breast and then moving down to rub between

her legs. Her other hand lifted and she curled her finger,

beckoning Heath.

"Come to me, human. Let me taste you.”

This was bad; this was wrong. Something terrible

was going to happen to Heath if he went up there and

stepped within that circle.

Totally entranced by her, Heath lurched forward

without any hesitation (or common sense). I grabbed one of

his arms, and was pleased to see Erik grab his other.

"Stop it, Heath! I want you to go. Now. You don't

belong here.”

With an effort, Heath pulled his eyes from

Aphrodite. He jerked his arm from Erik's grip and

practically growled at him. Then he turned on me.

"You're cheating on me!”

"Can you not listen? It's impossible for me to cheat

on you. We are not together! Now get out of—”

"If he refuses our summons, then we shall go to

him.”

My head jerked up to see Aphrodite's body convulse

as gray wisps seeped out of her. She let out a gasp that was

a cross between a sob and a scream. The spirits, including

the ones that had obviously been possessing her, rushed to

the edge of the circle, pressing against it in an effort to

break free and get to Heath.

"Stop them, Aphrodite. If you don't they'll kill him!"

Damien shouted as he stepped out from behind an

ornamental hedge that framed the pond.

"Damien, what—" I began, but he shook his head.

"No time to explain," he told me quickly before

turning his attention back to Aphrodite. "You know what

they are," he called up to her. "You have to contain them in

the circle or he'll die.”

Aphrodite was so pale she looked like a ghost

herself. She moved away from the smoky shapes that were

still trying to push against the invisible boundary of the

circle, until she was pressed against one edge of the table.

"I won't stop them. If they want him, they can have

him. Better him than me—or any of the rest of us,"

Aphrodite said.

"Yeah, we don't want any part of this kind of shit!"

said Terrible before dropping her candle, which sputtered

and went out. Without another word, she ran out of the

circle and down the gazebo stairs. The other three girls who

were supposed to be personifying the elements followed her

lead, disappearing quickly into the night and leaving their

candles overturned and unlit.

Horrified, I watched one of the gray shapes begin to

melt through the circle. The smoke that was his spectral

body began seeping down the stairs, reminding me of a

snake as it slithered in our direction. I felt the Dark

Daughters and Sons stir and glanced around me. They were

nervously backing away, looks of fear twisting their faces.

"It's up to you, Zoey.”

"Stevie Rae!”

She was standing unsteadily in the middle of the

circle. She'd thrown off the cape that had covered her, and I

could see the white linen bandages on her wrists.

"I told you we needed to stick together." She smiled

weakly at me.

"Better hurry," Shaunee said.

"Those ghosts are scaring the shit right outta your

ex," Erin said.

I looked over my shoulder to see the Twins standing

beside the white-faced, open-mouthed Heath, and I felt a

jolt of pure happiness. They hadn't abandoned me! I wasn't

alone!

"Let's get this done," I said. "Keep him here," I told

Erik, who was staring at me with obvious shock.

Without needing to look back to be sure my friends

were following me, I hurried up the steep stairs to the

ghost-filled gazebo. When I reached the boundary of the

circle I hesitated for a second. The spirits were slowly

dissolving through it, their attention completely focused on

Heath. I took a deep breath and stepped inside the invisible

barrier, feeling an awful chill as the dead brushed restlessly

against my skin.

"You have no right to be here. This is my circle,"

Aphrodite said, pulling herself together enough to wrinkle

her lip at me and block my way to the table and the spirit

candle, which was the only one still lit.

"Was your circle. Now you need to shut up and

move," I told her.

Aphrodite narrowed her eyes at me.

Ah, crap. I really didn't have time for this.

"Bobble-head, you need to do what Zoey says. I

have been dying to kick the shit outta you for two years,"

Shaunee said, moving up to stand beside me.

"Me, too, you nasty ho bag," Erin said, stepping up

to my other side.

Before the Twins could pounce on her, Heath's

scream shattered the night. I whirled around. Mist was

crawling up Heath's legs, leaving long, thin tears in his

jeans that instantly began to weep blood. Panicked, he was

kicking and shrieking. Erik hadn't run away, but was hitting

at the mist, too, even though whenever some of it stuck on

him it ripped his clothes and tore open his skin.

"Fast! Take your places," I yelled before the

seductive smell of their blood could mess with my

concentration.

My friends ran to the deserted candles. Hastily they

picked them up and waited in the proper positions.

I moved around Aphrodite, who was staring at

Heath and Erik, with her hand pressed against her mouth as

if to hold back her screams. I grabbed the purple candle and

rushed over to Damien.

"Wind! I summon you to this circle," I yelled,

touching the purple candle to the yellow one. I wanted to

cry with relief when the familiar whirlwind suddenly sprang

up, swirling around my body and lifting my hair crazily.

Shielding the purple candle with my hand I ran to

Shaunee.

"Fire! I summon you to this circle!" Heat flared with

the whirling air as I lit the red candle. I didn't pause, but

kept moving clockwise around the circle. "Water! I summon

you to this circle!" The sea was there, salty and sweet at the

same time. "Earth! I summon you to this circle!" I touched

the flame to Stevie Rae's candle, trying not to flinch at the

bandages that covered her wrists. She was abnormally pale,

but she grinned when the air filled with the scent of freshly

cut hay.

Heath screamed again, and I rushed back to the

center of the circle and lifted the purple candle. "Spirit! I

summon you to this circle!" Energy sizzled into me. I

glanced around at the boundary of my circle and, sure

enough, I could see the ribbon of power marking its

circumference. I closed my eyes for an instant. Oh, thank

you, Nyx!

Then I put the candle down on the table and grabbed

the goblet of bloody wine. I turned to face Heath and Erik

and the ghostly horde.

"Here is your sacrifice!" I yelled, sloshing the liquid

in the goblet in a messy arc around me, so that it made a

blood-colored circle on the gazebo floor. "You weren't

called here to kill. You were called here because it's

Samhain and we wanted to honor you." I spilled more wine,

trying hard to ignore the seductive scent of fresh blood

mixed with wine.

The ghosts paused in their attack. I focused on them,

not wanting to distract myself with the terror in Heath's

eyes and the pain in Erik's.

"We prefer this warm young blood, Priestess." The

eerie voice echoed up to me, sending chills over my skin. I

swear I could smell his rotting flesh-scented breath.

I swallowed hard. "I understand that, but those lives

aren't yours to take. Tonight is a night for celebration, not

for death."

"And yet we choose death—it is dearest to us."

Ghostly laughter floated through the air with the tainted

smoke of sweet grass, and the spirits began to converge

again on Heath.

I threw down the goblet and raised my hands. "Then

I'm not asking anymore; I'm telling you. Wind, fire, water,

earth, and spirit! I command in Nyx's name that you close

this circle, pulling back to it the dead who have been

allowed to escape. Now!”

Heat surged through my body and shot from my

outstretched hands. In a rush of salt-scented wind that was

burning hot, a shining green mist whooshed from me down

the stairs to whip around Heath and Erik, making their

clothes and hair flap like mad. The magical wind caught the

smoky shapes and tore them from their victims, and with a

deafening roar, it sucked them back into the boundary of my

circle. Suddenly I was surrounded by ghostly shapes, from

which I could feel danger and hunger pulsing, as clearly as I

had felt Heath's blood earlier. Aphrodite was curled up on

the chair, cowering from the specters. One of them brushed

against her and she let out a little shriek, which seemed to

stir them up even more, and they pressed violently around

me.

"Zoey!" Stevie Rae cried my name, her voice shrill

with fear. I saw her take a hesitant step toward me.

"No!" Damien snapped. "Don't break the circle.

They can't hurt Zoey—they can't hurt any of us, the circle is

too strong. But only if we don't break it.”

"We're not going anywhere," Shaunee called.

"Nope. I like it right here," Erin said, sounding only

a little breathless.

I felt their loyalty and trust and acceptance like a

sixth element. It filled me with confidence. I straightened

my spine and looked at the swirling, angry ghosts.

"So—we're not leaving. Which means you guys

have got to go.”

I pointed down at the spilled blood and wine. "Take

your sacrifice and get out of here. It's all the blood that is

owed to you tonight.”

The smoky horde paused in their seething. I knew I

had them. I drew a deep breath and finished it.

"With the power of the elements I command you:

Go!”

Suddenly, as though an invisible giant slapped them

down, they dissolved into the wine-soaked floor of the

gazebo, somehow absorbing the blood-tinged liquid and

making it disappear with them.

I breathed a long, ragged sigh of relief.

Automatically, I turned to Damien.

"Thank you, wind. You may depart.” He started to

blow out his candle, but didn't need to, a little puff of wind,

which felt surprisingly playful, did it for him. Damien

grinned at me. And then his eyes got huge and round.

"Zoey! Your Mark!”

"What?" I lifted my hand to my forehead. It tingled,

as did my shoulders and my neck (which figured, I always

get shoulder/neckaches when I'm over-stressed), plus my

whole body was still humming with the aftereffects of

elemental power, so I hadn't even noticed it.

His shocked look changed to happiness. "Finish

closing the circle. Then you can use one of Erin's many

mirrors to see what's happened.”

I turned to Shaunee to say good-bye to fire.

"Wow…amazing," Shaunee said, staring at me.

"Hey, how did you know I have more than one

mirror in my purse?" Erin was complaining from across the

circle at Damien when I turned to her and sent water away.

Her eyes got big when she caught a good look at me, too.

"Holy shit!" she said.

"Erin, you really shouldn't curse in a sacred circle.

Y'all know it's not—" Stevie Rae was saying in her sweet

Okie twang when I turned to say good-bye to earth, and her

words were suddenly cut off as she gasped, "Oh, my

goodness!”

I sighed. Hell, what now? I went back to the table

and lifted the spirit candle.

"Thank you, spirit. You may depart," I said.

"Why?" Aphrodite stood up so abruptly that she

knocked over the chair. Like everyone else, she was staring

at me with a ridiculously shocked expression. "Why you?

Why not me?”

"Aphrodite, what are you talking about now?”

"She's talking about this." Erin handed me a

compact she pulled out of the chic leather purse she always

had slung over her shoulder.

I opened it and looked. At first I didn't understand

what I was seeing—it was too foreign, too surprising. Then,

from my side, Stevie Rae whispered, "It's beautiful…”

And I realized she was right. It was beautiful. My

Mark had been added to. A delicate swirl of lace-like

sapphire tattooing framed my eyes. Not as intricate and

large as an adult vamp, but unheard of in a fledgling. I let

my fingers trace the curling design, thinking that it looked

like something that should decorate the face of an exotic

foreign princess…or maybe the High Priestess of a goddess.

And I stared hard at the me that wasn't really me— this

stranger who was becoming more and more familiar.

"And that's not all Zoey. Look at your shoulder,"

Damien said softly.

I glanced down at the deep, off-the-shoulder

neckline of my cool dress and felt a jolt of shock surge

through my body. My shoulder was tattooed, too. Stretching

from my neck, down my shoulder and back, were sapphire

tattoos in a swirling pattern much like that on my face, only

the blue marks on my body looked even more ancient, even

more mysterious, because they were interspersed with

letter-like symbols.

My mouth opened, but words wouldn't come out.

"Z, he needs help." Erik broke through my shock

and I looked up from my shoulder to see him stumbling into

the gazebo, half carrying an unconscious Heath.

"Whatever. Leave him here," Aphrodite said.

"Someone will find him in the morning. We need to get out

of here before the guards wake up.”

I whirled on her. "And you ask why me and not

you? Maybe because Nyx is sick and tired of you being

selfish, spoiled, indulged, hateful…" I paused, so pissed I

couldn't think of any more adjectives.

"Nasty!" Erin and Shaunee added together.

"Yeah, and a nasty bully." I took a step closer to her

and got all in her face. "This whole Change is hard enough

without someone like you. Unless we want to be your"—I

glanced up at Damien and smiled—"your sycophants, you

make us feel like we don't belong—like we're nothing.

That's over, Aphrodite. What you did tonight was totally,

completely wrong. You almost caused Heath to die. And

maybe even Erik and who knows who else, and it was all

because of your selfishness.”

"It wasn't my fault your boyfriend tracked you

here," she yelled.

"No, Heath wasn't your fault, but that's the only

thing that wasn't your fault tonight. It was your fault that

your so-called friends wouldn't stand by you and keep the

circle strong. And it was your fault that negative spirits

found the circle to begin with." She looked confused, which

pissed me off even more. "Sage, you hateful hag! You're

supposed to use sage to clear out negative energy before

you use sweet grass. And it's not surprising that you drew

such horrid spirits.”

"Yeah, 'cause you're horrid," Stevie Rae said.

"You don't have shit to say about it, refrigerator,"

Aphrodite sneered.

"No!" I put my finger in her face. "This refrigerator

crap is the first thing that's ending.”

"Oh, so now you're going to pretend that you don't

crave the taste of blood more than any of us?”

I glanced up at my friends. They met my eyes

without flinching. Damien smiled encouragement. Stevie

Rae nodded at me. The Twins winked. And I realized that

I'd been a fool. They weren't going to shun me. They were

my friends; I should have trusted them more, even if I

hadn't learned to trust myself yet.

"We'll all eventually crave blood," I said simply. "Or

we'll die. But that doesn't make us monsters, and it's time

the Dark Daughters stopped acting the part. You're finished,

Aphrodite. You're no longer leader of the Dark Daughters.”

"And I suppose you think that now you're the

leader?”

I nodded. "I am. I didn't come to the House of Night

asking for these powers. All I wanted was a place to fit in.

Well, I guess this is Nyx's way of answering my prayer.” I

smiled at my friends and they grinned back at me. "Clearly,

the Goddess has a sense of humor.”

"You stupid bitch, you can't just take over the Dark

Daughters. Only a High Priestess can change their

leadership.”

"Convenient, then, that I am here, isn't it?" Neferet

said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Neferet stepped from the shadows and into the

gazebo, moving quickly to Heath and Erik. First, she

touched Erik's face and checked the bloody slash marks on

his arms from where he'd struggled futilely to try to pull the

ghosts off Heath. As she passed her hands over his wounds I

could actually see the blood drying. Erik breathed a sigh of

relief, like his pain had disappeared.

"These will heal. Come to the infirmary when we

get back to school and I'll give you some salve that will

lessen the sting from your wounds." She patted his cheek

and he blushed bright red. "You showed the bravery of a

vampyre warrior when you stayed to protect the boy. I am

proud of you, Erik Night, as is the Goddess.”

I felt a rush of pleasure at her approval; I was proud

of him, too. Then I heard murmured agreement all around

me and realized that the Dark Daughters and Sons had

returned and were crowding the stairs of the gazebo. How

long had they been watching? Neferet turned her attention

to Heath, and I forgot about everyone else. She lifted the

torn legs of his jeans and examined the bloody marks there

and on his arms. Then she cupped his pale, rigid face in her

hands and closed her eyes. I watched his body stiffen even

more and convulse, and then he sighed and, like Erik, he

relaxed. After a moment, he looked like he was sleeping

peacefully instead of fighting silently against death. Still on

her knees beside him, Neferet said, "He will recover, and he

will remember nothing of this night except that he got

drunk and then lost trying to find his ex-almost-girlfriend.”

She looked up at me as she said the last of it, her eyes kind

and filled with understanding.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Neferet nodded slightly to me, before she stood to

confront Aphrodite.

"I am as responsible for what happened here tonight

as you are. I have known for years of your selfishness, but I

chose to overlook it, hoping that age and the touch of the

Goddess would mature you. I was wrong.” Neferet's voice

took on the clear, powerful quality of a command.

"Aphrodite, I officially release you from your position as

leader of the Dark Daughters and Sons. You are no longer in

training for High Priestess. You are now no different than

any other fledgling." With one swift movement, Neferet

reached out, grasped the silver and garnet necklace of rank

that dangled between Aphrodite's breasts, and tore it from

her neck.

Aphrodite didn't make a sound but her face was

chalky and she stared unblinkingly at Neferet.

The High Priestess turned her back on Aphrodite

and approached me. "Zoey Redbird, I knew you were

special from the day Nyx let me foresee that you would be

Marked." She smiled at me and put a finger under my chin,

lifting my head so that she could get a better look at the new

addition to my Mark. Then she brushed my hair aside so

that the tattoos that had appeared on my neck, shoulders,

and back could also be seen. I heard the Dark Daughters

and Sons gasp as they, too, got their first look at my unusual

Marks. "Extraordinary, truly extraordinary,” she breathed,

letting her hand fall back to her side as she continued.

"Tonight you showed the wisdom of the Goddess's choice

in gifting you with special powers. You have earned the

position of Leader of the Dark Daughters and Sons and

High Priestess in training, through your Goddess-given gifts

as well as through your compassion and wisdom." She

handed me Aphrodite's necklace. It felt heavy and warm in

my hands. "Wear this more wisely than did your

predecessor." Then she made a truly amazing gesture.

Neferet, High Priestess of Nyx, saluted me, fist crossed

over her heart, head bowed formally, with the vampyre sign

of respect. Everyone around us except Aphrodite mimicked

her. Tears blurred my vision as my four friends grinned at

me and bowed with the other Dark Daughters and Sons.

But even in the midst of such perfect happiness I felt

the shadow of confusion. How could I have ever doubted

that I could tell Neferet anything?

"Go back to the school. I'll take care of what needs

to be done here," Neferet told me. She hugged me quickly

and whispered into my ear, "I am so very proud of you,

Zoeybird." Then she gave me a little push in the direction of

my friends. "Welcome the new Leader of the Dark

Daughters and Sons!" she said.

Damien, Stevie Rae, Shaunee, and Erin led the

cheering. And then everyone surrounded me and it seemed

that I was washed from the gazebo in an exuberant wave of

laughter and congratulations. I nodded and smiled at my

new "friends," but I wasn't a fool. Silently I reminded

myself that only moments before they had been agreeing

with everything Aphrodite had said.

It would definitely take a while to change things.

We got to the bridge and I reminded my new

charges that we'd have to be quiet as we made our way back

through the neighborhood to the school, and I motioned for

them to go on ahead of me. When Stevie Rae, Damien, and

the Twins started to cross the bridge I whispered, "No, you

guys walk with me.”

Grinning so broadly they looked goofy, the four of

them stood around me. I met Stevie Rae's bright gaze. "You

shouldn't have volunteered to be the refrigerator. I know

how scared you were.” Stevie Rae's grin faded at the

reprimand in my voice.

"But if I hadn't, we wouldn't have known where the

ritual was going to be, Zoey. I did it so I could text-message

Damien, and he and the Twins could meet me here. We

knew you'd need us.”

I held up my hands and she stopped talking, but she

looked like she was going to cry. I smiled gently at her.

"You didn't let me finish. I was going to say that you

shouldn't have done it, but I'm so glad you did!" I hugged

her, and smiled through tears at the other three of them.

"Thank you—I'm glad you were all there.”

"Hey, Z, that's what friends do," Damien said.

"Yep," said Shaunee.

"Exactly," said Erin.

And they closed around me in a giant, smothering

group hug—which I totally loved.

"Hey, can I get in on this?”

I looked up to see Erik standing nearby.

"Well, yes, you absolutely may," Damien said

brightly.

Stevie Rae dissolved into giggles, and Shaunee

sighed and said, "Give it up, Damien. Wrong team,

remember?" Then Erin pushed me out of the center of the

group and toward Erik. "Give the guy a hug. He did try to

save your boyfriend tonight," she said.

"My ex-boyfriend," I said quickly, stepping into

Erik's arms, more than a little overwhelmed by the mixture

of the scent of the fresh blood still clinging to him and the

fact that he was, well, hugging me. Then, to add to

everything else, Erik kissed me so hard that I swear I

thought the top of my head would spin off.

"Please, just please," I heard Shaunee say.

"Get a room!" Erin said.

Damien giggled as I stepped self-consciously out of

Erik's arms. "I'm starving," Stevie Rae said. "This

refrigerator stuff makes you hungry.”

"Well, let's go get you something to eat," I said.

My friends started over the bridge and I could hear

Shaunee bickering with Damien about whether we should

have pizza or sandwiches.

"Mind if I walk with you?" Erik asked.

"Nah, I'm getting used to it," I said, smiling up at

him.

He laughed and walked onto the bridge. Then from

the darkness behind me I heard a very distinct, very

annoyed, "me-eeh-uf-ow!”

"Go on, I'll catch up with you guys in a minute," I

told Erik and then I walked back into the shadows at the

edge of the Philbrook's lawn. "Nala? Kitty, kitty, kitty…," I

called. And, sure enough, a disgruntled ball of fur trotted

out of the bushes, complaining the entire time. I bent down

and picked her up and she instantly started to purr. "Well,

silly girl, why did you follow me all the way out here if you

don't like walking that far? Like you haven't been through

enough tonight already," I murmured, but before I could

head back to the bridge, Aphrodite stepped out of the

shadows and blocked my way.

"You might have won tonight, but this isn't over,"

she told me. She made me feel really tired.

"I wasn't trying to 'win' anything. I was just trying to

make things right.”

"And that's what you think you did?" Her eyes

darted nervously back and forth from me to the path that led

to the gazebo, as if someone had followed her. "You don't

really know what happened here tonight. You were just

being used—we were all just being used. We're puppets,

that's all we are." She angrily wiped at her face and I

realized she was crying.

"Aphrodite, it doesn't have to be like this between

us," I said softly.

"Yes it does!" she snapped. "It's the parts we're

supposed to play. You'll see…you'll see.…" Aphrodite

started to walk away.

A thought drifted unexpectedly from my memory. It

was of Aphrodite, during her vision. As if it was happening

again, I could hear her say, They're dead! No. No. That

can't be! Not right. No. Not natural! I don't understand…I

don't…You…you know. Her scream of terror echoed eerily

through my mind. I thought of Elizabeth…of Elliott…the

fact that they had appeared to me. Too much of what she

said made sense.

"Aphrodite, wait!" She looked over her shoulder at

me. "The vision you had today in Neferet's office, what was

it really about?”

Slowly, she shook her head. "It's only beginning. It's

going to get much worse." She turned and suddenly

hesitated. Her way was blocked by five kids—my friends.

"It's okay," I told them. "Let her go.”

Shaunee and Erin parted. Aphrodite lifted her head,

shook back her hair, and marched past them as if she owned

the world. I watched her walk over the bridge, my stomach

clenching. Aphrodite knew something about Elizabeth and

Elliott, and eventually I was going to have to find out what

it was.

"Hey," Stevie Rae said.

I looked at my roommate and new best friend.

"Whatever happens, we're in it together.”

I felt the knot in my stomach release. "Let's go," I

said. Surrounded by my friends, we all went home.

[end]

v1.0

[Scanned & Proofed by slaingod from dt. I lost

some of my proof notations from the first half of the book,

so I apologize that this isn’t up to my usual quality. I am

also ironing out the kinks of a new scanning procedure with

a different OCR app which has more issues with optional

hyphens, and other punctuation.]

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Table of Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE