"I know. I'm really sorry." Even though I understood Neferet was playing along with me, I still had to work at not cringing away from the power in her voice. I glanced up at the detectives. Both of them were staring at Neferet with wide, startled eyes. Huh. So, up until then she'd only shown them her gorgeous public face. They had no idea what kind of power they were dealing with.
"And you haven't seen either teenager since then?" the tall cop asked after an uncomfortable pause.
"Only once more, and then it was just Heath alone, during our Samhain Ritual."
"Excuse me, your what?"
"Samhain is the ancient name for a night you would probably best know as Halloween," Neferet explained. She was back to stunningly beautiful and kind, and I could understand why the cops looked confused, but they returned her smile as if they had no choice. Knowing Neferet's powers—they might not. "Go on, Zoey," she told me.
"Well, there were a bunch of us and we were having a ritual. Kinda like a church service outside," I explained. Okay, it was nothing like a church service outside, but no way was I going to explain circle-casting and calling the spirits of carnivorous dead vamps to a couple human cops. I glanced at Neferet. She nodded encouragement. I drew a deep breath and mentally edited the past as I talked. I knew it really didn't matter what I said. Heath didn't remember anything about that night—the night he'd almost been killed by the ghosts of ancient vampyres. Neferet had made sure that his memory had been totally and permanently blocked. All he knew was that he'd found me with a bunch of other kids and then passed out. "Anyway, Heath snuck into the ritual. It was really embarrassing, especially since ... well ... he was totally wasted."
"Heath was drunk?" Marx asked.
I nodded. "Yes, he was drunk. I don't want to get him in any trouble, though." I'd already decided not to mention Heath's unfortunate, and hopefully temporary, experimentation with pot.
"He's not in trouble."
"Good. I mean, he's not my boyfriend but he's basically a good guy."
"Don't worry about it, Miss Redbird, just tell us what happened."
"Nothing really. He crashed our ritual, and it was embarrassing. I told him to go home and not come back, that we were through. He made a fool out of himself and then passed out. We left him there, and that was it."
"You haven't seen him since?"
"No."
"Have you heard from him in any way?"
"Yeah, he calls way too much and leaves annoying messages on my cell. But that's getting better," I added hastily. I really didn't want to get him into trouble. "I think he's finally getting it that we're through."
The tall cop finished taking some notes, and then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag that had something in it.
"And how about this, Miss Redbird? Have you ever seen this before?"
He handed me the bag and I realized what was in it. It was a silver pendant on a long black velvet ribbon. The pendant was in the shape of two crescent moons back-to-back against a full moon encrusted with garnets. It was the symbol of the triple Goddess—mother, maiden, and crone. I had one just like it because it was the necklace that the leader of the Dark Daughters wore.
CHAPTER 11
"Where did you get this?" Neferet asked. I could tell she was trying to keep her voice under control, but there was a powerful, angry edge to it that was impossible to hide.
"This necklace was found near Chris Ford's body."
My mouth opened, but I couldn't seem to say anything. I knew my face had gone pale, and my stomach clenched painfully.
"Do you recognize the necklace, Miss Redbird?" Detective Marx repeated his question.
I swallowed and cleared my throat. "Yes. It's the leadership pendant of the Dark Daughters."
"Dark Daughters?"
"The Dark Daughters and Sons is an exclusive school organization, made up of our finest students," Neferet said.
"And you belong to this organization?" he asked.
"I'm its leader."
"So you wouldn't mind showing us your necklace?"
"I—I don't have it with me. It's in my room." Shock was making my head feel woozy.
"Gentlemen, are you accusing Zoey of something?" Neferet said. Her voice was quiet, but the thread of outraged anger that ran through it brushed against my skin, causing my flesh to prickle and rise. I could see from the nervous glance the detectives shared that they felt it, too.
"Ma'am, we're simply questioning her."
"How did he die?" My voice was faint, but it sounded abnormally loud in the tense silence that surrounded Neferet.
"From multiple lacerations and loss of blood," Marx said.
"Someone cut him with a switchblade or something?" On the news they'd said that Chris had been mauled by an animal, so I already knew the answer to the question, but I felt compelled to ask.
Marx shook his head. "The wounds were like nothing a knife would leave. They were more like animal scratches and bites."
"His body was almost entirely drained of blood," Martin added.
"And you're here because this appears to be a vampyre attack," Neferet said grimly.
"We're here looking for answers, ma'am," Marx said.
"Then I suggest you do a blood alcohol content test on the human boy. Just from the little I know about the group of teenagers the boy had as friends, they are habitual drunks. He probably got intoxicated and fell into the river. The lacerations were more than likely made by rocks, or perhaps even animals. It's not uncommon for coyotes to be found along the river, even within Tulsa city limits," Neferet said.
"Yes, ma'am. Tests are being performed on the body. Even drained of blood, it will still tell us many things."
"Good. I'm sure one of the many things it will tell you is that the human boy was drunk, perhaps even high. I think you should look to more reasonable causes for this death than a vampyre attack. Now, I assume you're done here?"
"One more question, Miss Redbird," Detective Marx asked me without looking at Neferet. "Where were you Thursday between eight and ten o'clock?"
"In the evening?" I asked.
"Yes."
"I was at school. Here. In class."
Martin gave me a blank look. "School? At that time?"
"Perhaps you should do your own homework before questioning my students. Classes at the House of Night begin at eight P.M. and go till three A.M. Vampyres have long preferred the night." The dangerous edge was still in Neferet's voice. "Zoey was in class when the boy died. Now are we finished?"
"For the time being we are finished with Miss Redbird." Marx flipped a couple pages back in the little notebook he'd been writing in before he added, "We do need to speak with Loren Blake."
I tried not to react to Loren's name, but I know my body jumped and I felt my face heat up.
"I'm sorry, Loren left yesterday before dawn on the school's private jet. He has gone to our East Coast school to support our students who are in the final round of our international Shakespearean monologue contest. But I can certainly give him a message to call you when he returns Sunday," Neferet said while she walked toward the door, clearly dismissing the two men.
But Marx hadn't moved. He was still watching me. Slowly he reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. Handing it to me he said, "If you think of anything—anything at all—that you believe might help us find who did this to Chris, call me." Then he nodded at Neferet. "Thank you for your time, ma'am. We'll be back Sunday to talk with Mr. Blake."
"I'll see you out," Neferet said. She squeezed my shoulder, and breezed by the two detectives, leading them from the room.
I sat there trying to collect my tumbling thoughts. Neferet had lied, and not just by omission about me drinking Heath's blood and Heath almost getting killed during the Samhain ritual. She'd lied about Loren. He hadn't left the school yesterday before dawn. At dawn he'd been at the east wall with me.