Destined (37 page)

“I do, Priestess.”

“Then get out of here and do as I command. If you are discovered do not expect me to rescue you. Expect me to forget we ever had this conversation.”

When he simply stood there staring at her, she said, “What is it? Why are you not already obeying my orders?”

“I do not know where to go, Priestess. How do I reach the location of the ritual?”

Neferet squelched the urge to smite him to his knees with Darkness. Instead she scribbled an address on a notepad, tore it off, and handed it to him. “Use the GPS as I’ve showed you before. This is the address. It couldn’t be easier if I conjured you there.”

He bowed, clutching the paper. “As you command, Priestess,” he said, leaving the room.

“And be careful they do not see you arriving!”

“Yes, Priestess,” he said before closing the door behind him.

Neferet watched him go. “I wish he was smarter,” she whispered to the dark tendrils that crawled up her arms and caressed her wrists. “Oh, but you are, aren’t you? Go with him. Strengthen him. Watch him. Be quite sure he does not falter in obeying my
simple
commands. Then return and tell me everything.” The tendrils hesitated. Neferet sighed and, with a quick flick of her forefinger, she sliced the inside of her bicep and ground her teeth as Darkness fed from her. Shortly, she waved them away and licked the shallow wound closed. “Go now. You’ve taken your payment. Do my bidding,”

The shadows slithered from her and Neferet, content, called for her assistant to bring her a glass of wine laced with blood.

“Find some virgin’s blood this time,” she snapped when the young vampyre answered her summons. “The other is simply too common, and I have a feeling a celebration will soon be in order.”

“Yes, Priestess, as you command.” The assistant bowed and scurried out.

“That is right.” Neferet spoke aloud to the listening shadows. “All will be as I command. And someday soon they will not call me Priestess, but Goddess. Someday
very
soon…”

Neferet laughed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Dragon

A Sword Master notices everything. It’s part of what makes him successful—what keeps him alive. Though it didn’t take his preternatural abilities of observation for Dragon Lankford to know something was going on with Zoey’s inner group. It only took following his instincts and asking one simple question.

Shortly after second hour was underway Dragon instructed his students to begin their warm-up exercises, and told them he would return momentarily. Instinct had been niggling at him, driving him, prodding him, worrying him. Darius and Stark were talented Warriors—both more than capable in their specialized areas of weaponry. Darius was probably the most gifted knife thrower Dragon had ever known, and Stark’s infallibility with bow and arrow was, indeed, awe inspiring.

Neither of those abilities meant they should be in charge of training young, impressionable fledglings. Teaching was a gift in itself, and Dragon very much doubted that two such youthful vampyres had the experience and wisdom needed to be true professors.

She had been young when she was made a professor, so very young. That was how he’d met her—his mate—his life—his own.
He knew what Anastasia would say were she here. She would smile kindly and remind him that he should not judge others harshly because of their youth—that once he had known how that felt. She would remind him that he was in the perfect position to mentor the youths—to be sure they developed into worthy Warriors and exceptional teachers.

But Anastasia was as dead as the past and because of that his life was utterly changed. Dragon did not want to supervise or mentor or oversee young professors, especially in light of the fact that they had begun this extra class so that he would not have to suffer the presence of the Raven Mocker turned boy. But Dragon was finding that duty was an odd thing. Even though he had stepped away from the path he’d walked with his mate and his Goddess, it seemed he had not become entirely free of the bonds that tied him to honor and responsibility.

So, begrudgingly, Dragon gave in to the instinct that was telling him to check on the young Warriors and made the short trek from the field house to the arena of Lenobia’s stables where Stark and Darius had set up their Warrior training.

As soon as he placed foot inside the sawdust arena, Dragon knew he’d been right to be concerned. The two vampyres weren’t conducting training—the human stable man was. Lenobia was nowhere to be seen, and the two Warriors were following Aphrodite
from
the stables. Dragon shook his head in disgust.

“Darius!” he called. The young vampyre paused, gestured for Stark and Aphrodite to go ahead, and then he hurried over to Dragon. “Why is a human leading your class?”

“It cannot be avoided,” Darius said. “Stark and I must escort Aphrodite and Zoey.”

“Escort them? Where?”

Dragon could see that Darius was not comfortable discussing the subject with him, but he really had very little choice. No matter their differing views on Rephaim and Neferet and some of the new red fledglings, Dragon was still Darius’s ranking Warrior, and as thus he owed the Sword Master an answer.

“Thanatos is going to lead Zoey and her circle in a ritual at her grandmother’s farm. The spell involved is supposed to reveal the manner of her mother’s death.”

Dragon felt the shock of it—this was major spellwork, and one that entailed some measure of danger, even if the threat was more emotional than physical.
I should have been informed. I should have been included.

Dragon kept his thoughts veiled and only asked, “Why now, during school hours, is this ritual taking place?”

“This is the fifth night after her murder.”

Dragon nodded, understanding. “One night for each of the elements. Four would be incomplete. Six would be too late. It must be tonight.”

“Yes, that is how Thanatos explained it, too.” Darius added, obviously uncomfortable, “May I have leave to go, Sword Master? My Prophetess awaits.”

“Yes, you may.”

Darius bowed and Dragon watched him go. Then, with a grim set to his handsome face, Dragon Lankford changed direction and made his way quickly to the classroom Thanatos had made her own.

He was relieved to see the High Priestess was still there, looking through one of the cupboards in the rear of the room and gathering candles and herbs, which she placed carefully in a large spellwork basket that was all too familiar to him. It had been Anastasia’s favorite.

The sight of it made him feel raw and exposed. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat and said, “Priestess, may I have a word with you?”

Thanatos turned at the sound of his voice. “Certainly, Sword Master.”

“Darius tells me you are leading Zoey’s circle in a reveal ritual and some major spellwork at her grandmother’s farm.”

Though he didn’t frame the words in a question, Thanatos nodded. “Yes.”

“Priestess, I was under the impression that you are aware that I am Leader of the Sons of Erebus at this House of Night.”

“I am aware of your position here, Sword Master,” she agreed.

“Then, though I do not mean to admonish you or show you disrespect, I must ask your reasons for not informing me of and including me in an undertaking of such rare importance as well as danger.”

Thanatos hesitated, and then she nodded, as if agreeing with him. “You are correct, because of your position at this school I should have informed you of my plans. I did not for a very simple reason: I decided that your presence at the ritual would be a distraction; therefore, I did not include you and did not inform you. I apologize if that seems I did not respect your position. That was not my intention.”

“A distraction? Why would I be a distraction?”

“As Stevie Rae’s Consort and protector, Rephaim will be attending the ritual.”

Thoroughly annoyed Dragon retorted, “What does Rephaim have to do with me being a distraction?”

“If you harm the Consort of the Priestess who embodies the earth element, that will definitely distract her from performing her very pivotal part in the reveal ritual, and it will hinder the spellwork to follow.”

“I would be there to protect our students. Not to harm them.” Dragon forced the words through clenched teeth.

“And yet Aphrodite has been given a vision wherein you appear to be harming Rephaim.”

“I would not do that unless he was endangering the other students!”

“Be that as it may, your presence would be a distraction. Dragon, two other Warriors will be present, and the power of Zoey’s circle will be strong. The students are protected. And, Sword Master, let me add that I have seen a deep, disturbing change in you since the death of your mate.”

“I grieve her loss.”

“Sword Master, I think the truth is that you
are
lost. And even were Rephaim not going to be at the ritual, I would not want you present.”

“Then I will leave you so as not to be a distraction.” Dragon spun on his heels, but before he could exit the room, Thanatos’s words snared him. “Please let me explain. I would not want you present at any ritual wherein a spell was cast to reveal the truth about death with the intent to bring about justice and closure. I do not mean to insult you, but I sense that you are in such conflict in your own life that your presence would simply go against the very heart of the spell.”

As if her words had formed a wall before him, Dragon stopped. He did not turn to look at the High Priestess. In a voice he hardly recognized as his own, he spoke. “My presence would go against the very heart of the spell. Is that what you said to me?”

“I spoke the truth to you as I know it.”

“Is that all you wish to say to me, Priestess?” He still did not turn to look at her.

“Yes, except that I wish you to blessed be, Sword Master.”

Dragon didn’t bow to her. He didn’t fist his hand over his heart in respect. He could not. If he didn’t get away so that he could think Dragon felt as if he would explode. He stumbled out into the hallway and started moving blindly. Ignoring the curious glances from students, he made his way from the main House of Night building and stumbled outside.

Memories bombarded him. Words swirled around and around through his mind. He’d been present when a different Warrior had been kept from attending another Priestess so, so many years ago, but he could hear Anastasia’s voice as clearly as if she’d just spoken the words.

I do not mean to insult you, but I cannot cast a peace spell while I’m being guarded by a Warrior. It simply goes against the very heart of the spell …

The High Priestess at Tower Grove House of Night had agreed with her young professor of Spells and Rituals and commanded that Dragon escort Anastasia in place of a vampyre Warrior. He’d been tasked with protecting her that night—with watching over her while she cast a peace spell in the heart of St. Louis.

And he’d failed Anastasia.

Oh, she’d lived. She’d not been killed
that
night, but Dragon had allowed evil to escape his sword. That same evil, one hundred and seventy-seven years later, had murdered his love, his life, his own.

Dragon was breathing hard. He was leaning against something that felt cool and soothing to the heat that boiled in his body. Blinking, he looked up and realized where his feet had taken him. Dragon was leaning against the statue of Nyx that stood before her temple. As he gazed at the Goddess’s marble face, the whispering wind blew the clouds from the moon and silver light caressed Nyx, illuminating her eyes.

She seemed, for a heartbeat, alive and looking at him with such a terrible sense of sadness that it made his heart, which he’d thought had been broken into so many pieces that it would never feel again, ache.

It was then that Dragon understood what he must do.

“I am going to the ritual. I’ll watch and not interfere—unless evil tries to strike again. If it does, this time I give you my oath I will cut it down.”

Zoey

“Are you sure we shouldn’t ask Shaylin to come?” Stevie Rae asked. She was sitting with Rephaim in their usual place on the bus while we waited for Thanatos to join us.

“I really think it’s not right for her to come,” I said. “She’s only been Marked for just a few days. She hasn’t had time to even settle in as a fledgling, let alone figure out her True Sight thing.”

“Plus, we’re not advertising that she has True Sight,” Aphrodite said. “The less people know about our business, the better.”

“She was part of Kramisha’s poem, though,” Stevie Rae said.

“We don’t know that for sure. The poem said”—I squinted, like that could help my memory and then, mostly accurately I recited—“the poem said, ‘Seen with True Sight, Darkness doesn’t equate to evil, and Light doesn’t always bring good.’ What if the True Sight part is the same as most of Kramisha’s poems—meant to be symbolic and not literal?”

“Goddess, I hate poetry,” Aphrodite said.

“Kramisha’s not comin’, either?” Stevie Rae said, sounding weirdly whiny. “Shouldn’t we get her?”

“No, Stevie Rae, we need to stick with our circle—our core group,” I said.

“The Herd of Nerd, plus the guys and moi,” Aphrodite said. “Bumpkin, what’s your issue? It’s not like we haven’t taken on the world before and come out mostly ahead.”

“You sound scared,” Damien said.

Stevie Rae glanced behind me where Damien was sitting midway back with Erin.

“I am scared,” she admitted softly.

“Do not be scared.” Rephaim slid his arm around her. “Aphrodite’s vision has forewarned us. Nothing will happen to me.”

“Uh, I’m not so sure being scared isn’t smart.” I spoke up, letting my gut help me reason through my thoughts. “I’m gonna see how my mom was killed. That scares me, so I know I’m gonna have to be ready for something terrible and super hard to watch. Aphrodite had a vision of Rephaim’s death, probably during the ritual we’re getting ready to go do. I think it’s okay if Stevie Rae is scared, you should be scared, too, Rephaim—just enough so you’ll both be prepared and ready for bad stuff if it happens.”