Awakened (23 page)

Kalona’s smile faded. “Of course not. My immortality is not a power I would willingly share with another.”

And suddenly what had been niggling at the edge of Rephaim’s thoughts burst into understanding. No wonder Kalona had appeared different since he’d returned from the Otherworld. It all made sense now. “Father! What was the exact wording of the oath you swore to Neferet?”

Kalona frowned at his son, but he recited the oath: “If I failed in my sworn quest to destroy Zoey Redbird, fledging High Priestess of Nyx, Neferet shall hold dominion over my spirit for as long as I am an immortal.”

Excitement coursed through Rephaim’s body. “And how do you know Neferet actually has dominion over your spirit?”

“I did not destroy Zoey; she must have dominion over me.”

“No, Father. If you shared your immortality with Stark, you are no longer completely an immortal, just as Stark is no longer completely a mortal. The conditions of the oath do not exist, nor did they ever. You are not truly bound to Neferet.”

“I am not truly bound to Neferet?” Kalona’s expression shifted from disbelief to shock, and finally to joy.

“I do not believe you are,” Rephaim said.

“There is only one way to be certain,” Kalona said.

Rephaim nodded. “You must openly disobey her.”

“That, my son, will be a pleasure.”

As he watched his father throw his arms back and shout joyously to the sky, Rephaim knew that tonight would change everything, and no matter what he had to figure out a way to be sure Stevie Rae was safe.

“You look really tired.” I touched Stark’s face as if I could smooth away the dark circles under his eyes. “I thought you slept most of the whole flight.”

Stark kissed my palm and made what looked to be an attempt at his cocky smile, which failed miserably. “I’m cool. It’s just jet lag.”

“How can you be jet-lagged before they’ve even opened the door of the jet?” I pointed my chin in the direction of the vampyre flight attendant who was busy doing whatever it was they did to get a plane open after landing. There was a whooshing sound and the seat belt light made an annoyingly loud
ding! ding!
sound.

“There, the door’s open. I can be jet lagged now,” Stark said as he unbuckled his seat belt.

Knowing he was completely full of bullpoopie, I grabbed his wrist and made him stay in his seat. “You know I can tell something’s wrong.”

Stark sighed. “I’m just having bad dreams again, that’s all. And when I wake up I can’t ever really remember them. Somehow that seems like the worst part. It’s probably a weird side effect from being in the Otherworld.”

“Great. You have
PTSD
. I knew it. Hey, I think I remember reading in one of the House of Night newsletters that Dragon is one of the school counselors. Maybe you could see him and—”

“No!” Stark interrupted, and then kissed my nose when I frowned at him. “Stop worrying. I’m fine. I don’t need to talk to Dragon about my bad dreams. Plus, I don’t know what the hell
PTSD
is, but it sounds enough like an
STD
to be dodgy.”

I couldn’t help it, I giggled. “Dodgy? You sound like Seoras.”

“Aye, wumman, then it’s mindin’ me you should be! Get yur arse outta yur chair.”

I scowled and shook my head. “Do. Not. Call. Me. Woman. Plus, it’s freakish how well you can do that accent.” He did have a point about getting out of the stupid plane, though, so I stood up and waited for him to grab my carry-on bag. While we were walking up the ramp from the plane I added, “And
PTSD
stands for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.”

“How do you know that?”

“I Googled your symptoms and it came up.”

“You did what?” he said so loud a woman wearing an appliquéd sweatshirt gave us the stank eye.

“Sssh.” I wrapped my arm through his so that we could talk without everyone gawking. “Look, you’ve been acting weird: tired, distracted, grumpy, and you’re forgetting things. I Googled.
PTSD
came up. You probably need counseling.”

He gave me his you-are-an-insane-woman look. “Z, I love you. I’ll guard you and stand beside you for the rest of my life. But you gotta quit Googling health-related stuff. Especially health-related stuff about me.”

“I just like to be well informed.”

“You like to scare the crap out of yourself Googling bizarre health stuff.”

“So?”

He grinned at me, and this time he did look cocky and cute. “So you admit it.”

“Not necessarily,” I said, elbowing him. I didn’t get to say anything else because just then I was enveloped in what felt like a mini Oklahoma tornado.

“Zoey! Ohmygood
ness
, it’s so good to see you! I missed you like crazy! Are you okay? It’s awful ’bout Jack, ain’t it?” Stevie Rae was hugging me and crying and talking all at the same time.

“Oh, Stevie Rae, I’ve missed you, too!” And then I was bawling along with her and we just stood there holding tight to each other like touch could somehow make everything that was crazy and wrong in our world better.

Over Stevie Rae’s shoulder I saw Stark standing there, smiling at us. He was pulling out the little travel pack of Kleenex that he kept in his jeans’ pocket ever since he’d gotten back from the Otherworld, and I thought that maybe, just maybe, touch added to love might make
almost
everything better in our world.

“Come on,” I said to Stevie Rae as we took the tissues from Stark and the three of us walked arm-in-arm through the giant revolving door that spewed us out into a cold Tulsa night. “Let’s go home, and on the way there you can tell me all about the giant, stinking pile of bullpoopie that’s waiting for me.”

“Language,
u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya.
”

“Grandma!” I unhooked myself from Stevie Rae and Stark and ran into her arms. I hugged her tightly, letting love and the soothing scent of lavender surround me. “Oh, Grandma, I’m so glad you’re here!”

“
U-we-tsi-a-ge-ya,
daughter, let me look at your face.” Grandma held me at arm’s length, her hands on my shoulders, while she studied my face. “It is true; you are whole and well again.” She closed her eyes and squeezed my shoulders, murmuring, “Thank the Great Mother for that.” Then we were hugging and laughing at the same time.

“How did you know I’d be here?” I asked when I was finally able to stop hugging her.

“Did your super cool Spidey Senses tell you?” Stevie Rae asked as she stepped up and hugged Grandma hello.

“No,” she said, turning her attention from Stevie Rae to Stark, who was gazing down at her. “Something much more mundane.” She smiled seraphically. “Or I suppose I should say some
one
much more mundane, although I am not at all sure
mundane
is a good word to use when referring to this valiant Warrior.”

“Stark? You called my grandma?”

He shot me his cocky grin and said, “Yeah, I like having an excuse to call another beautiful woman named Redbird.”

“Come here, you charmer,” Grandma said.

I shook my head as Stark hugged Grandma carefully, like he wasn’t sure if she’d break or not.
He’d called my grandma and told her when our plane was landing.
Stark’s eyes met mine over Grandma’s shoulder.
Thank you,
I mouthed silently to him. His grin got bigger.

Then Grandma was there at my side again, taking my hand.

“Hey, why don’t Stevie Rae and I go get the car while you and your grandma talk?”

I barely had time to nod yes, and the two of them were gone, leaving Grandma and me to find a bench positioned conveniently close by. We sat for a second without saying anything. We just held hands and looked at each other. I didn’t realize I was crying until Grandma delicately wiped the tears from my face.

“I knew you’d return to us,” she said.

“I’m sorry I worried you. I’m sorry that I didn’t—”

“Ssh,” Grandma shushed me. “There is no need for apologies. You did your best, and your best has always been good enough for me.”

“I was weak, Grandma. I’m still weak,” I said honestly.

“No,
u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya,
you are young, that is all.” She touched my face gently. “I am sorry about your Heath. I will miss that young man.”

“I will, too,” I said, blinking hard so I wouldn’t start crying again.

“But I feel you two will know one another again. Perhaps in this lifetime, perhaps in the next.”

I nodded. “That’s what Heath said, too, before he moved on to the next realm of the Otherworld.”

Grandma’s smile was serene. “The Otherworld—I know that it was under heartbreaking circumstances, but you were given a great gift when you were allowed to travel there and back.”

Her words made me think—really think. Since I’d returned to the real world I’d been tired and sad and confused and then, finally, with Stark I’d been content and in love. “But I haven’t been thankful,” I said the words aloud as I realized them. “I haven’t understood the gift I’d been given.” I wanted to smack myself in the head. “I’m a crappy High Priestess, Grandma.”

Grandma laughed. “Oh, Zoeybird, if that were true you would not question yourself or call yourself to task for your mistakes.”

I snorted. “I don’t think High Priestesses are supposed to make mistakes.”

“Of course they are. How else would they learn and grow?”

I started to say that I’d made enough mistakes that I should have grown to be, like, a zillion feet tall, but I knew that wasn’t what Grandma meant. I sighed and said, “I have a bunch of faults.”

“It is a wise woman who recognizes that.” Sadness made her smile fade. “It is one of the key differences between you and your mother.”

“My mother.” I sighed again. “I’ve been thinking about her lately.”

“As have I. Linda has been close to my mind during the past several days.”

I raised my brows at Grandma. Usually when someone was “close to her mind” it meant something was going on with that person. “Have you heard from her?”

“No, but I believe I soon will. Hold good thoughts for her,
u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya.
”

“I will,” I said.

My Bug puttered up then, looking familiar and cute with its shiny aqua blue paint and sparkly chrome.

“Best be getting back to your school, Zoeybird. You’ll be needed there tonight,” she said in her no-nonsense-Grandma-voice.

We stood and hugged again. I had to make myself let go of her. “Are you staying in Tulsa tonight, Grandma?”

“Oh, no, honey. I have too much to do. There’s a big powwow in Tahlequah tomorrow and I’ve made lovely new lavender sachets.” She smiled at me. “I beaded redbirds into them.”

I grinned and hugged her one last time. “Save one for me, okay?”

“Always,” she said. “I love you,
u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya.
”

“I love you, too,” I said.

And then I watched as Stark jumped out of the Bug and took Grandma’s arm, helping her cross the busy street between the airport arrivals terminal and short-term parking. He jogged back to me, dodging cars. When he opened the door of the car for me I paused, pressed my hand to his chest, and tugged at his shirt until he bent down so I could kiss him. “You’re the best Warrior in the world,” I whispered against his lips.

“Aye,” he said, eyes sparkling.

Scrunching myself into the back of my Bug I met Stevie Rae’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Thanks for giving me some alone time with my grandma.”

“Not a problem, Z. I heart me your grandma.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said softly. Then I straightened my shoulders and, feeling totally empowered, continued, “Okay. So. Tell me about the bullpoopie I’m getting ready to step into back at school.”

“Hold on to your horses ’cause it really is one red-hot mess,” Stevie Rae said as she signaled and pulled away from the curb.

“You don’t even like horses,” I said.

“Exactly,” she said, which made absolutely no sense, but also made me laugh. Yep, hot mess of bullpoopie or not, I was seriously glad to be home.

“I still can’t believe the High Council could be that naïve,” I said for what felt like the gazillionth time as Stevie Rae helped me decide on what outfit I was gonna wear to[_ light Jack’s funeral pyre_]. I shuddered.

Without knocking, Aphrodite breezed into the room. She took one look at the black, long-sleeved, high-necked sweater and black jeans I was holding up and said, “Oh, for shit’s sake. You can’t wear that. You’re lighting the funeral pyre of a
gay.
Do you know how mortified Jack would be if he saw you in that, not to mention Damien? It looks like an early 1990s Anita Blake reject outfit.”

“Who’s Anita Blake?” Stevie Rae asked.

“Vampire killer chick written by a human chick who has a Totally Tragic fashion sense.” Aphrodite was wearing a skintight sapphire-colored dress that was a little shimmery, but not so much so that it looked like one of those prom rejects from David’s Bridal. Actually, she looked gorgeous and classy like she usually does. Probably because Victoria, her personal shopper at super posh Miss Jackson’s at Utica Square, had pulled the dang thing for her as soon as it came in
and
charged her mommy’s platinum credit card.
Sigh.
It kinda made my head hurt.

Anyway, she marched over to my closet, opened it, and after one disdainful look at my wardrobe took out the dress she’d given me the night I’d gone to my first Dark Daughters’ Ritual. It was black, long-sleeved, and (unlike the sweater and jeans) flattering. It was also trimmed around the low, round neckline, the flowy sleeves, and the hem with little red glass beads that sparkled whenever I moved and matched perfectly the Leader of the Dark Daughters triple moon that rested around my neck. I met her eyes. “This dress doesn’t have such nice memories attached to it,” I said.

“Yeah, well, it looks good on you. It’s appropriate. And, most important, Jack would totally love it. Plus, according to my mother, memories change like people do, especially if there’s enough alcohol involved.”

“Look, Aphrodite, do not tell me you are gonna be drinkin’ tonight. That’s just not appropriate,” Stevie Rae said.

“No, bumpkin. Or at least not until afterward.” She tossed the dress at me. “Now put this on and hurry up. The Twins and Darius are bringing Damien up here so we can all walk out to the pyre together—a show of nerd herd solidarity and all, which I believe is a good decision,” she added quickly when Stevie Rae sucked in air and opened her mouth to interrupt. “Oh, and hi. It’s good to see you and your hypochondriac boyfriend back in the real world.”