Neferet had cut through his subterfuge as cleanly as she had his skin.
“Tell anyone why Alexander really killed himself, and I will explain in detail to the High Council about your need for punishment. You know what they would do. That’s why you hide your desires with human prostitutes, paying for their silence. Should they discover you, the High Council would, correctly, believe your need affects you as a Warrior and dismiss you from your post.”
“You are utterly devoid of compassion.” Neferet never forgot the loathing in his voice.
“We each wear our masks, don’t we? Keep my secret and I will keep yours.”
Neferet had left San Clemente Island the next day, immediately after lighting Alexander’s pyre. The High Council had been understanding and compassionate. Of course she should return to her House of Night immediately. The loss of an Oath Bound Warrior was life altering for a High Priestess!
Artus had remained silent.
One year later Neferet heard how shocked the High Council had been when his body had been found floating in the Grand Canal. There had been no sign of violence on his body, only his many scars. Apparently, he had drowned himself. Neferet had smiled at the news.
Alone on the return voyage Neferet had fallen into despair. She’d begun to believe that there would be no male, human or vampyre, who could possibly be her equal. Her despair had grown greater as she drew nearer the end of her voyage. With the ocean, waves of Neferet’s emotions had surged before her, washing against the shoreline, penetrating the ground and soaking across the land.
That was when the dreams had begun. She had dreamed she’d been wrapped in power, folded into greatness, cherished beyond pain and pleasure.
“No mortal male could be your equal because you deserve to be mated to a god!” his beautiful voice had whispered, and Neferet had begun listening.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Zoey
“Ah, shit. She looks worse than I expected.” Aphrodite said.
“Yeah, she does.” My voice sounded shaky as my friends and I looked through the big window into the ICU cubicle of our infirmary. Shaunee had gotten Stark, me, Aphrodite, and Darius. On the way to the infirmary she’d quickly filled us in on what Dallas had done. I’d told myself I wouldn’t cry—that I’d be a strong, mature High Priestess and set a good example, but one look at Stevie Rae had totally scared the crap out of me and made me want to burst into tears. She’d had her oversized Kenny Chesney concert T-shirt on, but everywhere the shirt hadn’t protected—her face, arms, and legs—were bright red and covered with angry-looking blisters that oozed blood. Margareta, the vampyre in charge of the infirmary, said that she hadn’t completely gained consciousness yet, and that wasn’t good because Stevie Rae needed to drink blood, or else she wouldn’t even begin to heal.
“Can’t they give her a transfusion or something?” Aphrodite said.
“I already asked that,” Shaunee said while I wiped my eyes and sniffed. Stark handed me a Kleenex. “Vampyres aren’t like humans. An infusion won’t work. We have to absorb blood through our mouths, and throats, and well, you know—everything—for it to heal us.”
“I hope you know how nasty that sounds,” Aphrodite said said.
“Aphrodite, I’d chew poo and spit it down Stevie Rae’s throat if it would make her better,” I said.
“That won’t be necessary.” Thanatos’s voice had us turning toward the entrance to the infirmary. She’d opened the door. Kalona stepped inside. Rephaim was on his heels. Barefoot and pulling on his shirt, he sprinted past his father.
He went straight to Stevie Rae. We crowded around the door, watching and waiting.
“Stevie Rae, it’s time to wake up now.” Rephaim sat beside her on the hospital bed. Tears dripped down his cheeks, but his voice didn’t shake. He sounded calm and sure of himself. “I got here as soon as I could. I am sorry you had to be like this for so long, but you know the problem I have during the sunlight. I’m not really myself.” He tried to laugh, but it came out as a sob instead. He cleared his throat and wiped his eyes, saying, “It’s not as bad as your problem with the sun, though.” He reached out like he meant to touch her cheek, but flinched at the rawness and blisters. Instead he rested his hand on her chest, over her heart. “Hey, I need you to wake up now,” he repeated, his tears falling faster and faster.
Kalona pushed past us to stand beside his son. “Rephaim, you must make her drink from you. You are bonded to her, and within your veins pulses the strength of immortals. Only you can heal her.”
Rephaim looked up at his dad. “She’s not conscious. She won’t wake up.”
“Then you must force her to drink.”
Rephaim nodded. He lifted the hand he’d been pressing over Stevie Rae’s heart and bit himself. Hard. Right on his wrist.
I didn’t need to see the blood seeping through the bite. I could smell it. It was super weird. In a way it was kinda stinky, like mold or newly dug-up dirt, but there was something else in it, too, that reminded me of dark chocolate and spices and a cool, moonlit breeze in the middle of a sweltering summer night.
“Wow, that’s bizarre smelling,” Stark murmured.
I didn’t say anything because I couldn’t stop my mouth from watering. All I could do was watch in envy as Rephaim leaned forward and gently cradled Stevie Rae’s head while he pressed his bleeding wrist to her slack lips.
“Drink, Stevie Rae. You have to,” Rephaim pleaded.
Stevie Rae didn’t react at all. Rephaim’s blood ran from the corners of her mouth and pooled scarlet against the white hospital sheets, looking delicious … irresistible…
“Zoey! Help her.”
I realized I’d been staring, spellbound, at Rephaim’s blood when Kalona’s voice jerked me back to myself. “H-how?” I stuttered.
Thanatos answered for him. “Call spirit. Have it strengthen and infill her. Her body will heal if her spirit awakens so that she may drink from her mate.”
“Of course—I understand, sorry.” I cleared my throat and drew a deep breath, ignoring the new rush of blood scent that filled my lungs. “Spirit, come to me!” I felt better when my favorite element responded—more myself—more in control. Grounded again, I commanded, “Go to Stevie Rae. Fill her and strengthen her so that she comes back to us!” My hair lifted as spirit left me and poured into Stevie Rae. Immediately, she took a deep breath, coughing as blood choked her. And then her eyes opened and she clamped her hands around Rephaim’s arm, sucking from his wrist—drinking deeply.
“Not so much that she weakens you.” Kalona put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “She will need to drink from you again, and often, until she is completely healed, and you must be strong enough for her to do so.”
Rephaim nodded and gently put his hand over Stevie Rae’s. “Stevie Rae, you have to stop. You can have more later.”
I saw her eyes when she looked up at him. They were red-tinged. Her expression was feral.
“Uh-oh,” Stark said. He and Kalona tensed at the same time, but Thanatos’s voice was like balm, soothing the tension in the room.
“Let her be. Stevie Rae is a vampyre—a High Priestess. Trust her. She will find herself.”
And, sure enough, Stevie Rae blinked several times and her eyes faded back to normal. She pushed Rephaim’s wrist from her mouth, wiping blood from her lips and looking like she was going to cry. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, Rephaim!”
“Shhh,” he soothed, pulling her into his arms. “You would never hurt me.”
Suddenly she sat back, staring up at Rephaim. I was amazed to see that her skin was already less boiled looking. “You saved me! When you were a raven!”