Destined (25 page)

“Can’t he hide them wings inside one of the long black goth/cowboy coats?” Kramisha asked.

“I don’t think so. They’d probably hang out of the bottom of it. Plus, he’d look, like, deformed and all humpy and probably call all sorts of unwanted attention to himself,” Damien said.

“Seriously. The unwanted attention would be wearing something that’s totally circa 1999 and unattractive,” Aphrodite said absently as she pawed through the Miss Jackson’s bag at her feet.

“Well, whether it’s fashion or fear, logically speaking, I suppose he does need Shaunee to get the laptop for him,” Damien concluded.

“He said that he wished me well?” was the first thing Rephaim asked after Shaunee had made her big Kalona announcement to all of them.

“Yeah.” Shaunee smiled at Rephaim.

“Kalona also had information about Aurox, or at least he had an idea of where we should begin in finding out his origin,” Darius said. “Zoey, I think—”

“My mom could have been the sacrifice. I know.”

Shaunee blinked and then felt like she was gonna be sick. She hadn’t even thought of Z’s mom when Kalona had been talking about the sacrifice of someone close to them! Jack was the first person who had popped into her mind, and then there had been all that other stuff to think about. She shook her head and interrupted something Darius was saying about rituals and such.

“Z, I’m really sorry.”

Zoey’s face was like a question mark. “You don’t need to be sorry. You just told us what happened. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yeah, I did. I didn’t even think about your mom being killed a few days ago. I was thinking about my own dad stuff and everything. I’m really sorry,” she repeated.

Zoey’s smile was as friendly and forgiving as it always was. “That’s okay, Shaunee. It’s not your fault that what’s going on with Rephaim and Kalona has you upset.”

“Yeah, Shaunee. We’re all trying to do the best that we can. Sometimes that’s not so easy,” Stevie Rae said, taking Rephaim’s hand in hers. “Thanks for standing up for Rephaim and caring. I ’preciate it.”

“As do I,” Rephaim said.

“Oh. Hey. No big thing. Yeah, I just—” Shaunee began, but Erin interrupted her in what sounded almost like a sarcastic play on their usual finish-each-other’s-sentence habit.

“Yeah, I just gotta go put away the loot I got from Miss Jackson’s and hang the new bead curtain I got from Pier 1. Later, everyone.” Erin scooped a bunch of bags from the floor and hurried from the kitchen.

Totally confused, Shaunee watched her leave, feeling like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or scream.

“Go on.” Zoey had come up beside her and was speaking quietly while Damien and Darius started to discuss the difference between cleansing and funeral rituals, and if there was a way that either of them could maybe be tweaked to turn into a tell-us-who-killed-her ritual.

“What?”

“Go on and talk to Erin. If anyone has any more questions about what happened I’ll come find you. I don’t want this to mess up your friendship,” Z said, glancing at Stevie Rae. “BFF’s are super important. We all need to remember that.”

“Okay, thanks.” Shaunee slipped from the room and hurried down the tunnel toward the very cool tunnel room she shared with her Twin. But she needn’t have hurried. Erin was loaded down and just a few yards from the kitchen she’d dropped an entire giant Pier 1 bag.

“Hey, Twin,” Shaunee said as she bent to pick up a shiny pillow. “It looks like a glitter explosion happened out here.”

Erin didn’t smile. She took the sequinned pillow from Shaunee’s hands and crammed it back into an already bulging bag, saying, “I got this under control.”

Shaunee touched Erin’s shoulder, which felt hard and cold and lifeless. “Wait, Twin, what is it? Why are you so pissed?”

“You didn’t even tell me you cared so much about your dad. You just kept it from me,” Erin said, jerking her shoulder from Shaunee’s touch.

“No, I didn’t.” Shaunee shook her head, feeling like Erin had just smacked her. “I tried to say stuff to you, but you were all, ‘hey, that’s in the past, Twin, let’s shop’ so I gave up. Don’t you remember?”

“Okay, yeah, whatever. What is the big deal? I just don’t get it! We’ve been best friends since we were both Marked—
on the same day.
Everything was fine until this daddy crap came up with Rephaim and now we’re suddenly not BFFs anymore.”

“Wait, I get how Rephaim’s feeling and you don’t, that’s all. I never said we weren’t BFFs anymore.”

“Yeah, well, you’re right. I don’t get it.” Erin crossed her arms. “What exactly is the issue?”

Shaunee felt like the world was pressing down on her shoulders and her best friend had suddenly become a stranger. “Erin, I miss my dad sometimes. That’s all.”

“Your dad? He didn’t give a shit about you
years
before you were Marked. How can you miss him?”

Shaunee hesitated. She looked deep and truly
saw
Erin. “Wow. You really don’t care, do you?”

“About what? About the cool crap I got for our room totally not on sale at Pier One and charged to Aphrodikey’s gold card? Hell, yes. About the new stuff I just snagged from Miss Jackson’s afterhours? Double hell yes I care! Alice + Olivia is the shit for the spring. I even got you a fox-lined red cashmere wrap thing that is To Die For. Oh, and I got me one, too, totally to match only in blue. We are gonna look awesome in this stuff. Perfect. We’re perfect. That’s what I care about. And you, too, Twin. I care about you and you care about our stuff. You always have.” Erin’s tirade ran out, leaving her looking kinda sad and confused. She wiped her eyes and her MAC Wonder Woman blue mascara smeared.

“No,” Shaunee said slowly. “None of that’s real. And, Twin, nobody’s perfect. Especially not you and me.”

“What the hell is it? How could Rephaim’s dad change everything?” Erin shouted.

“It’s been bothering me for a while, but I didn’t say anything.”

“Rephaim’s dad or your dad?” Erin said.

“Neither, Erin. I’m not talking about either one. I’m talking about stuff in general. Like Jack dying.” Shaunee felt, really, really tired.

“I cared about Jack dying! We cried and stuff.”

“No, we cried, and then you got an e-mail from Danielle that had a link to Rue La La and we shopped,” Shaunee said.

“So? I bought black shoes. Wait, no.
We
bought black shoes. Platforms. With pink bows and Swarovski crystals on the heels. We said it was appropriate mourning attire and that Jack would appreciate it. Then we cried some more.
We
did it. Both of us. How are you so much better than me if you did the same thing?”

Shaunee wondered how Erin could look like she was pleading and pissed at the same time.

“I’m not better than you. I didn’t say that. Actually, you’re better than me ’cause you’re fine and I’m not. That’s the bottom line. I’m not fine anymore. Not with myself and I think that means not with us, either, but I don’t really know—”

“I’ll tell you what,
Twin
,” Erin butted in, wiping angrily at the tears that were smearing blue across her cheeks. “When you’re fine again come see me. Until then find your own room and your own stuff. I don’t want a roommate, or a twin, who’s not fine with me.” Crying silently and ignoring the things that kept spilling from her shopping bags, Erin stomped down the tunnel, leaving Shaunee standing in a pile of glittery pillows and velvet tights.

Someone cleared her throat and Shaunee jumped. It was only when Zoey handed her a wad of semi-used Kleenexes that she realized she was bawling.

“Do ya wanta talk about it?”

“Not really,” Shaunee said.

“Okay, you want to be by yourself?” Zoey asked.

“I’m not sure. But I do know one thing and it’s gonna sound really bad,” Shaunee said with a little hiccupy sob.

“Well, then say it fast ’cause when you say it fast it gets over with and it doesn’t seem so bad.”

“I want to go live back at the House of Night.”

There was a heavy silence, and then Zoey asked, “Does Erin want to go with you?”

“No,” Shaunee said, wiping away the last of her tears. “I’m going by myself.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Zoey

Sunday sucked as bad as Saturday had. Later I looked back and realized that when Erin and Shaunee split was when the whole thing started to unravel. It was weird what the two of them not speaking did to the rest of us. It was like them being pissed at each other unbalanced everyone.

“I don’t know about you, but the brain-sharers are driving me crazy.”

Aphrodite plopped down beside me where I was sitting on the curb that edged the old circle driveway entrance to the depot. I sighed and thought
so much for taking a second and trying to be by myself.
I scooted over to give her more room.

“Yeah, I know. It’s weird them not always being together, and now Shaunee looks like she’s ready to burst into tears all the time and Erin’s all silent and pouting. It’s super crazy down there.”

“Fire and ice,” Aphrodite mumbled.

My brows shot up. “You know, you may be right.”

“I do not know when you’re going to get a fucking clue and realize that
I’m right mostly all the time.
” Aphrodite pulled a little jeweled emery board from her Coach purse and started to file her nails. “I don’t know what else that damn stupid poem means, but part of it is definitely about the brain-sharers.”

“Why are you filing your nails?”

She shot me a WTF look. “Because this stupid town doesn’t have enough all-night spas. Well, except for the scary ones and I just want my nails done, not my vagina. I don’t want the HIV either, for that matter.”

“Aphrodite, you make no sense at all sometimes.”

“You are welcome for broadening your horizons. Anyway, as I was saying, what are you going to do about Tweedledee and Tweedledumber?”

“Uh, nothing. They’re girlfriends. Sometimes girlfriends get mad at each other. They’re gonna have to figure out a way to make up by themselves.”

“Seriously? That’s all you have?”

“Well, Aphrodite, what the hell do you expect me to do?”

“Did you just curse? Isn’t ‘hell’”—she air quoted—“a curse word?”

“How ’bout you go straight there and see?” I narrowed my eyes at her. “And for the zillionth time—
there’s nothing wrong with not having a potty mouth!
”

“Yelling and cursing. Next thing I know snowballs will be flying through H E double toothpicks.”

“You. Are. Hateful,” I said.

“Thank you. But seriously. What are you going to do about the Twins?”

“Give them space!” I didn’t mean to shout but the echo off the stone building told me otherwise. I took a deep breath and tried to stop feeling like I wanted to smother Aphrodite. “I can’t be responsible every time one of my friends has issues with another of my friends. That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It’s in a stupid but prophetic poem,” she said, filing her nails.

“I still don’t see how that makes me—”

I shut up as a big black Lincoln Town Car pulled through the circle entrance and stopped in front of Aphrodite and me. While we watched with unattractively open mouths, a Son of Erebus Warrior got out of the driver’s seat, ignored us completely, and opened the back door of the car.

Long and lean and dressed in dark blue velvet, Thanatos took the Warrior’s hand and gracefully emerged. She smiled at us and nodded acknowledgment when we bowed to her, but her attention was clearly on the depot building.

“What a lovely example of 1930s Art Deco workmanship,” she said, her gaze taking in the scope of the front of the depot. “I mourned the passing of rail travel. When it finally matured it was a wonderfully relaxing way to move across this great country. Actually, it still is today. Sad that there are so few modern rail routes from which to choose. You should have visited a depot in the forties—tragedy, hope, despair, and courage all concentrated into one vibrant, living space.” She continued to gaze lovingly at the old building. “Not like the horrid airports of today. They’ve been bleached of all romance and soul and life, especially since the tragedy of nine-eleven. So sad … so sad…”

“Uh, Thanatos, can I help you with something?” I finally asked after it became obvious that she was going to stand like, forever, and just stare at the depot.

She motioned for the Warrior to get back in the car. “Wait for me across the street in the parking garage. I will be along shortly.” He bowed to her and drove away. She faced Aphrodite and me. “Ladies, I believe it is time for a change.”

“A change of what?” I asked.

“Apparently a change of our entrance,” Aphrodite said dryly. “Kalona came up here. Thanatos is up here. We need to put out some kind of welcome mat ’cause the whole enter-through-the-nappy basement thing is not working for us.”

“Strangely put, but I think true,” Thanatos said. “Which is one reason why I have, in the name of the Vampyre High Council, purchased this building for you.”

I blinked in surprise and tried to formulate an appropriate response when Aphrodite said, “I hope that means renovation.”

“It does,” Thanatos said.

“Wait,” I said. “We’re not a House of Night. Why would the High Council get involved in where we’re living?”

“Because we’re special and cool and they don’t want us to exist in a dirty hovel,” Aphrodite said.

“Or because they want to control where we live and what we do,” I said.

Thanatos raised her brows. “You speak with the command of a High Priestess.”

“I’m not really one,” I assured her. “I’m still a fledgling. Stevie Rae is the High Priestess here.”

“And where is she?”

“She’s with Rephaim. It’ll be light soon and she likes to be with him before he changes into a bird,” I said bluntly.

“And what are you?”

I frowned. “You know as much as I do about what I am. You know Stark was gifted with a Guardian Sword in the Otherworld, which means that to some extent I’m a Queen because he’s my Warrior and Guardian.”

“Why all the questions? I thought you were on our side,” Aphrodite said.

“I’m on the side of truth,” Thanatos said.