Betrayed (6 page)

“Yeah. I think we should have a plaque or something that records the names of the . . . the . . . what did you call them?”

“Prefects,” Damien said.

“Yeah, Prefects. The plaque, or whatever, could have the names of each year's Prefect Council, and it'll be displayed for ever and ever.”

“Yeah,” said Shaunee, warming to the idea. “But not just a plaque. We need something cooler than just a plain old plaque.”

“Something that's unique—like us,” Erin said.

“Handprints,” Damien said.

“Huh?” I asked.

“Our handprints are unique. What if we made cement casts of each of our handprints, then signed our names below them,” Damien said.

“Like the stars do in Hollywood!” Stevie Rae said.

Okay, it seemed kinda cheesy, which meant I couldn't help but like it. The idea was like us—unique—cool—and bordering on tacky.

“I think handprints are an excellent idea. And you know where the perfect place for them is?” They looked at me with bright, happy eyes, their worry about one of Aphrodite's friends joining us, as well as the pretty much constant fear of sudden death we all carried around with us, temporarily forgotten. “The courtyard is the perfect place.”

The bell rang, calling us back to class. I asked Stevie Rae to tell our Spanish teacher, Proffe Garmy, that I had gone to see Neferet, so I'd be late. I really wanted to tell her about my ideas while they were still fresh in my mind. It wouldn't take long—I'd just give her a basic outline and see if she liked the direction I was heading. Maybe . . . maybe I'd even ask her to come to the Full Moon Ritual Sunday, and be there when I announced the new selection process for membership to the Dark Daughters and Sons. I was thinking about how nervous I'd be if Neferet was there, watching me cast a circle and lead my own ritual, and was telling myself sternly that I'd have to get rid of my nerves . . . that it was the best thing for the Dark Daughters if Neferet was there showing her support of my new ideas and—

“But that's what I saw!” Aphrodite's voice, carrying from the cracked door of Neferet's classroom, jarred my thoughts and made me stop short. She sounded awful—totally upset and maybe even scared.

“If your sight is no better than that, then perhaps it's time you quit sharing what you see with others.” Neferet's voice was ice, terrifying, cold, and hard.

“But, Neferet, you asked! All I did was tell you what I saw.”

What was Aphrodite talking about? Ah, hell. Could she have run to Neferet about seeing Loren touch my face? I looked around the deserted hall. I should get out of here, but no damn way I was going to leave if that hag was talking about me—even if it seemed Neferet wasn't believing anything she was saying. So instead of leaving (like a smart girl), I walked quickly and quietly into the shadowed corner near the partially opened door. And then, thinking fast, I took off one of my silver hoop earrings and tossed it into the corner. I come and go from Neferet's classroom a lot—it's not beyond all reason that I'd be looking for a lost earring outside her door.

“You know what I want you to do?” Neferet's words were so filled with anger and power that I could feel them crawl across my skin. “I want you to learn to not speak of things that are
questionable
.” She drew the word out. Was she talking about gossiping about Loren and me?

“I—I just wanted you to know.” Aphrodite had started crying, and she choked the words between sobs. “I th-thought there might be something you could do to stop it.”

“Perhaps it would be wiser for you to think that because of your selfish actions in the past, Nyx is withholding her power from you because you are no longer in her favor and that what you are now seeing are false images.”

I'd never heard the kind of cruelty that filled Neferet's voice. It didn't even sound like her, and it scared me in a way that was hard for me to define. The day I'd been Marked, I'd had an accident before I got to the House of Night. When I was unconscious I'd had an out-of-body experience, which ended with me meeting Nyx. The Goddess told me that she had special plans for me, and then she kissed my forehead. When I woke up my Mark had been filled in. I had a powerful connection with the elements (although I didn't realize that till much later), and I also had a weird new gut feeling that sometimes told me to say or do certain things—and sometimes told me very clearly to keep my mouth shut. Right now my gut feeling was telling me that Neferet's anger was all wrong, even if it was in response to Aphrodite's malicious gossip about me.

“Please don't say that, Neferet!” Aphrodite sobbed. “Please don't tell me that Nyx has rejected me!”

“I don't have to tell you anything. Search within your soul. What is it telling you?”

If Neferet had spoken the words gently, they might have been nothing more than a wise teacher, or priestess, giving someone who was troubled some direction—as in look inside yourself to find, and fix, the problem. But Neferet's voice was cold and sneering and cruel.

“It's—it's telling me that I've—I've, uh, made m-mistakes, but not that the Goddess hates me.”

Aphrodite was crying so much that she was getting harder and harder to understand.

“Then you should look closer.”

Aphrodite's sobs were wrenching. I couldn't listen anymore. Leaving my earring, I followed my gut and got the hell out of there.

My stomach hurt all through the rest of Spanish class, so much so that I even figured out how to ask Proffe Garmy, “
puedo ir al bano,”
and spent so much time in the bathroom that Stevie Rae followed me in there asking what was wrong.

I know I was worrying the hell out of her—I mean, if a fledgling starts looking sick, that tends to mean that she's dying. And I'm positive I looked awful. I told Stevie Rae that I was getting my period and the cramps were killing me—although not literally. She didn't seem convinced.

I was incredibly glad to get to my last class of the week, Equestrian Studies. Not only did I love the class, but it always calmed me. This week I'd graduated to actually cantering Persephone, the horse that Lenobia (no prof title for her, she said the name of the ancient vampyre queen was title enough) had assigned to me the first week of class, and practiced changing leads. I worked with the beautiful mare until both of us were sweating and my stomach felt a little better, then I took my time cooling her off and grooming her, not caring that the bell had signaled the end of the school day a good half an hour before I emerged from her stall. I went to the immaculately kept tack room to put away the curry combs, and was surprised to see Lenobia sitting on a chair outside the door. She was rubbing saddle soap into what looked like an already spotlessly clean English saddle.

Lenobia was striking-looking, even for a vampyre. She had amazing hair that reached her waist and was so blond it was almost white. Her eyes were a weird color of gray, like a stormy sky. She was tiny, and carried herself like a prima ballerina. Her tattoo was an intricate series of knots entwining around her face—within the sapphire design horses plunged and reared.

“Horses can help us work through our problems,” she said without looking up from the saddle.

I wasn't sure what to say. I liked Lenobia. Okay, when I started her class she had scared me; she was tough and sarcastic, but after I got to know her (and proved I understood horses were not just big dogs), I'd come to appreciate her wit and her no-nonsense attitude. Actually, next to Neferet, she was my favorite teacher, but she and I hadn't ever talked about anything except horses. So, hesitantly, I finally said, “Persephone makes me feel calm, even when I don't feel calm. Does that make any sense?”

She looked up at me then, her gray eyes shadowed with concern. “It makes perfect sense.” She paused, and then added, “You've been given many responsibilities in a very short amount of time, Zoey.”

“I don't really mind,” I assured her. “I mean, being leader of the Dark Daughters is an honor.”

“Often things that bring us the most honor can also bring us the most problems.” She paused again and maybe I was imagining it, but she seemed to be trying to decide whether to say more or not. Then she drew her already straight spine up even straighter and continued. “Neferet is your mentor, and it is only right that you go to her with your confidences, but sometimes High Priestesses can be difficult to talk with. I want you to know that you can come to me—about anything.”

I blinked in surprise. “Thank you, Lenobia.”

“I'll put these up for you. Run along. I'm sure your friends are wondering what has happened to you.” She smiled and reached out to take the curry combs from me. “And feel free to come by the barn to visit Persephone anytime. I have often found that grooming a horse can somehow make the world seem less complex.”

“Thank you,” I said again.

As I left the barn I could swear that I heard her call softly after me something that sounded a lot like
May Nyx bless and watch over you
. But that was just too weird. Of course, it was also too weird that she had said I could talk to her. Fledglings formed special bonds with their mentors—and I had an extra-special mentor in the High Priestess of the school. Sure, we liked the other vamps, but if a kid had a problem she couldn't solve on her own, the kid took that problem to his or her mentor. Always.

The walk from the stables to the dorm wasn't a long one, but I took my time, trying to stretch out the sense of peace working with Persephone had given me. I meandered off the sidewalk a little, heading toward the old trees that lined the eastern side of the thick wall surrounding the school grounds. It was almost four o'clock (
A.M
., of course), and the deepness of the night was beautiful lit by the fat setting moon.

I'd forgotten how much I loved walking out here by the school wall. Actually, I'd avoided coming out here for the past month. Ever since I'd seen—or thought I'd seen—the two ghosts.

“
Mee-uf-ow!”

“Crap, Nala! Don't scare me like that.” My heart was beating like crazy as I lifted my cat into my arms and petted her while she complained at me. “Hello—you could have been a ghost.” Nala peered at me and then sneezed right in my face, which I took as her comment on the possibility of her being a ghost.

Okay, the first “sighting” might have been a ghost. I'd been out here the day after Elizabeth had died last month. She'd been the first of two fledgling deaths to shake the school. Well, more accurately, to shake
me
. As fledglings who could—any of us—drop dead at any time during the four years it took the physiological Change from human to vampyre to happen within our bodies, the school expected us to deal with death as just another fact of fledgling life. Say a prayer or two for the dead kid. Light a candle. Whatever. Just get over it and go on with your business.

It still seemed wrong to me, but maybe that was because I was only a month into the Change and still more used to being human than vamp, or even fledgling.

I sighed and scratched Nala's ears. Anyway, the night after Elizabeth's death I'd caught a glimpse of something that I thought was Elizabeth. Or her ghost, 'cause she was definitely dead. So it was no more than a glimpse, and Stevie Rae and I had discussed it without really deciding what was up with it. The truth was that we knew all too well that ghosts existed—the ones Aphrodite had conjured a month ago had almost killed my human ex-boyfriend. So I might very well have seen Elizabeth's newly freed spirit. Of course I might also have caught a glimpse of a fledgling and, because it had been night and I'd only been here for a few days and had, in those few days, gone through all sorts of unbelievable crap, I might have imagined the whole thing.

I came to the wall and turned to my right, meandering along it in the direction that would eventually lead me near the rec hall, and then, in turn, the girls' dorm.

“But the second sighting definitely wasn't my imagination. Right, Nala?” The cat's answer was to burrow her face into the corner of my neck and purr like a lawn mower. I snuggled her, glad she'd followed me. Just thinking about the second ghost still freaked me out. Like now, Nala had been with me. (The similarity made me glance nervously around and step up my meandering.) It had not been long after the second kid had drowned in his own lung tissue and bled out right in front of my Lit class. I shuddered, remembering how awful it had been—especially because of my gross attraction to his blood. Anyway, I'd watched Elliott die. Then later that day Nala and I had run into him (almost literally) not far from where we were right now. I'd thought he was another ghost. At first. Then he'd tried to attack me, and Nala (precious kitten) had launched herself at him, which had made him leap over the twenty-foot wall and disappear into the night, leaving Nala and me totally freaked out. Especially after I noticed that my cat had blood all over her paws.
The ghost's blood
. Which made no damn sense.

But I hadn't mentioned this second sighting to anyone. Not my best friend and roommate Stevie Rae, not my mentor and High Priestess Neferet, not my totally delicious new boyfriend, Erik. No one. I'd meant to. But then all the stuff had happened with Aphrodite . . . I'd taken over the Dark Daughters . . . started dating Erik . . . been extremely busy with school . . . blah, blah, one thing led to another and here I was a month later and I hadn't said anything to anyone. Just thinking about telling someone now sounded lame in my own mind.
Hey, Stevie Rae/Neferet/Damien/Twins/ Erik, I saw the specter of Elliott last month
after
he'd died and he'd been really scary and when he tried to attack me Nala made him bleed. Oh, and his blood smelled all wrong. Believe me. I'm way into good-smelling blood
(
just another freakish thing about me, most fledglings have no bloodlust). Just thought I'd mention it
.