“Sounds like she’s cooperating well,” Marx said.
“Yes, it does appear that way. But two things about her bother me. First, she keeps asking questions about Neferet.”
“Questions, like what?” Marx asked.
“Like what happened to Neferet to make her insane, how did she attain her power, is she really a goddess, and if she is, how are we going to stop her.”
“I can’t blame her for asking any of those questions,” Stark said. “If Neferet had just held me hostage, I’d want some info about her, too.”
“Agreed,” Kalona said. “And it wouldn’t worry me as much except for the second thing: she hesitated when I asked her to escape and come with me.”
“She absolutely refused to come with me,” Marx said, and then added, “Which was understandable. There was no protective shield up and Neferet would never have allowed her to walk out of there.”
“Very true, but my intuition says there is more to Lynette than she’s presenting. She claims that tonight she was being forced to go on an errand for Neferet, and that she was being accompanied by the threads of Darkness and a possessed servant to ensure her compliance and return. Yet she was outside the Temple, cloaked in Neferet’s concealment, well before anyone else joined her.”
“What’s her explanation for that?” Marx asked.
“That Neferet was showing all the other hostages she was her favorite by allowing her to leave the building unaccompanied,” Kalona said.
“Actually, that’s not good. Could be Lynette is harboring some Stockholm syndrome symptoms.”
“What is that?” Stark asked.
“It’s a survival mechanism for hostages fighting for their lives,” Darius said.
“I’m impressed,” Marx told him.
Darius’s lips twitched up. “Detective, Warrior training includes much more than swords and knives and guns. It also includes psychology—both human and vampyre.”
“I didn’t have any Warrior training,” Aurox said.
“Neither did I. I was born a Warrior.” Kalona paused and glanced at Stark, adding, “And the boy hasn’t had enough training to know much of anything. Please explain the syndrome to us.”
“Basically, certain conditions must be met. Let’s see, it’s been awhile since the academy. First, there has to be a perceived threat to the hostage’s survival and the belief that the captor is willing to act on that threat,” Marx said.
“The Witherspoon woman meets that condition,” Kalona said.
“The next step is that the hostage’s perceptions of small kindnesses from the captor must come within an atmosphere of terror,” Darius added.
“I would definitely call watching tendrils of Darkness burst through sixty human bodies while Neferet gave her a nice glass of wine and then discussed event planning afterward meeting that criterion,” Stark said.
“Yeah, you can check that box off,” Marx said. “And the last step is that she has to have been isolated from everyone’s perspectives other than those of her captor, and have the perceived inability to escape.”
“Check and check,” Stark said.
“That could explain her curiosity about Neferet. She isn’t asking because she’s worried. She’s asking because she’s obsessed,” Darius said.
“I’ll talk to her,” Marx said grimly. “Keep her on lockdown, only be sure you do so in an unthreatening manner. And your gut is right, Kalona. Don’t trust her.”
Kalona
By the Goddess he was tired! Now that he was finally alone, Kalona could allow the extent of his weariness to show. His wings drooped, brushing the ground. His shoulders ached. Actually, his entire body ached!
The winged immortal looked up at the rooftop of Nyx’s Temple and blew out a long, exhausted breath. Just do it. Do not think it. Stark has to be relieved before dawn, so I must find a way to shake off the lingering pain of my wounds. He put his head down, took several long strides and, with a groan, leaped, forcing his wings to beat against the air and lift him far enough off the ground that he was able to grab the lip of the Temple’s pitched roof. He pulled himself up and lay on his stomach, trying to catch his breath.
When the blast of sunlight hit him, Kalona couldn’t control his weakened body’s automatic response to turn away and cringe. Gruffly, he said, “Dim your light, Erebus! You’ll draw the entire campus.”
The garish sunlight faded to the soft glow of the gloaming of twilight. “Brother, you do not look well.”
Kalona used the peak of the Temple’s roof to pull himself to a sitting position, leaning against the stone chimney with what he hoped was nonchalance. “And you look exactly as you look every time you appear near me—unwelcome.”
Instead of responding in anger, Erebus studied his brother and then said, “Something has happened to you.”
“Yes. I have changed sides. Though I have not changed the level of my patience. This is the second time today I have had to explain myself, which is two times too many. Why are you here, Erebus?”
“Nyx sent me to check on you. It appears she was right to be concerned.”
Kalona’s heartbeat increased. Nyx is concerned about me! But he was careful to keep his expression bland. Erebus might exploit any weakness he showed—emotional or physical. “Tell the Goddess that I appreciate her concern, but I am simply following her edict. Nyx commanded that I protect those in need from Neferet, and that is what I am doing. Nyx commanded that I take responsibility for my role in Neferet’s descent into madness, and that is what I am doing. As my human friend, Detective Marx would say, There’s nothing to see here—move along.”
“I remember well Nyx’s edict,” Erebus said. “I carried it to you. So I also remember that the Goddess proclaimed”—he made a sweeping gesture, and the night sky lit up with words burning with sunlight—“IF HIS HEART DOTH OPEN, BARED AGAIN, FORGIVENESS MAY CONQUER HATE AND LOVE WIN … WIN…”
Once more, the Goddess’s edict blazed into Kalona’s eyes and heart. He looked away from the glowing words and they disappeared.
“Like you, I remember well Nyx’s words,” Kalona said.
“And?”
“And my heart as well as Nyx’s forgiveness are none of your business, Erebus!”
Erebus shrugged. “I am just here in the place of a concerned Goddess.”
“Tell the Goddess if she is really so concerned, the next time she should check on me herself,” Kalona couldn’t stop himself from saying.
Erebus laughed. “As you would say, that is between you and Nyx, and none of my business. Tell her yourself—if you think she will hear you.”
“I’ll do that, after I win the battle against Neferet,” Kalona said. Surely Nyx will hear me then. Surely she will forgive me then.
“You sound quite certain of yourself, but you don’t look as if you’re ready to battle Darkness,” Erebus teased.
Kalona straightened and glared at his brother. “I look as if I just battled Darkness and won! Little wonder you don’t recognize a Warrior after battle. You have never been in a battle, have you?”
Erebus’s bantering tone turned serious. “You Fell, but I remained by her side. Who do you think has kept her safe for all these long, lonely years?”
Kalona almost responded with an insult and a retort, but the words died before they were given voice. Instead the winged immortal nodded his head wearily. “Yes, I know who has kept the Goddess safe. Has Darkness been difficult to battle?”
Erebus was visibly surprised, so much so that he took several moments to collect himself to answer. “It has. I am no true Warrior. That was your role, not mine. I think I have been a poor substitute for you.”
Kalona met his brother’s golden gaze. “And yet Nyx is safe.”
“She is.”
“Then you have been a true Warrior.”
Erebus blinked several times. “You leave me speechless with your compliment.”
Kalona’s smile was wry. “Then I accomplished my goal. I have shut you up. Now, g
o back to the Otherworld and continue to try to hold the spot I mistakenly vacated.”
“Always so arrogant. You barely have the strength to cling to the roof of this Temple, and yet still you order me about as if it was your right. Take heed, Kalona! Someday your arrogance will cost you dearly.”
“Brother, it already has. I lost my Goddess because of it,” Kalona said.
“Then why haven’t you learned to temper your arrogance? What are you doing here, Kalona? Why must you lord your power over these mortals?”
“You call me arrogant? Well, I call you a blind fool! What I do here isn’t because of arrogance or a desire to lord power over mortals. What I do here is my duty! And for some of us, that entails more than frolicking about in the sunshine with nothing more than lovemaking and butterflies on our minds. For me it means I will battle Neferet, and not just because my Goddess commands it, but because my Oath Sworn duty requires it of me.”
Erebus stared at him, with an expression Kalona couldn’t read. “Apparently, Brother, you have changed more than sides. Still, I am compelled to remind you that Nyx trusts you will be the means by which Neferet is vanquished, so have care. Your actions affect others than just yourself.”
“Yes, yes, I know. I am the Warrior. I will eternally be the Warrior. Begone, Sunshine. You make my head ache.” Kalona was gathering his waning strength to slap Erebus with a clap of moonshine, when his brother jumped from the rooftop. Showing off his untaxed strength and agility, he hovered in the air for a moment before disappearing in a burst of glittering gold.
Kalona shook his head and used the chimney as a handhold to pull himself to his feet, muttering, “How can we be twins? He is like a yapping dog who eternally makes so much noise protecting his bone that no one notices his lack of teeth.” Finally standing, Kalona sent an apologetic look upward. “Not that I meant to compare you to a bone, Goddess.”
As Kalona threw open his arms and back his head, embracing the immortal magick that hummed through the ether of the night sky, calling healing and power to his body, he was almost sure he heard her laughter in the wind.
Erebus
Invisible to Kalona, Erebus watched his brother call the divine energy from which they both had been formed. He looks tired. He looks lonely. But he also looks determined. Kalona has changed—he truly has.
Yes, Kalona was still insufferably arrogant, no matter what his brother said, but he had also paid him a compliment, given Erebus a measure of respect for the role he had been fulfilling in Kalona’s absence for many, many years.
Erebus smiled. He’d always believed there was a hero buried beneath that obnoxious and prickly exterior. He could not, would not, change the events that were playing out in the mortal realm. Nyx would never allow that, and Erebus understood all too well why, but he could well-wish his brother:
A brother’s blessing from me to thee
Allow the hidden hero to be free
Accept what should have been your destiny
Forsworn no more shall you ever be.
Erebus spoke the well-wish into the wind so that it was carried away from his brother’s ears. Kalona hadn’t changed so much that he would welcome his brother’s blessing—their past was too filled with misunderstanding, jealousy, and conflict. No, Kalona must not hear the blessing, but Nyx must hear it. And Darkness must hear it. Nyx should know that Kalona, her fallen Warrior, had taken one more step into the Light. And Darkness—Erebus smiled grimly—Darkness should know to beware the power of a winged hero.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Shaunee
Shaunee was so tired her hair actually felt heavy. She was glad Grandma Redbird and the other women were there with her and Thanatos—really glad. She might have been able to watch over the High Priestess, and keep her element focused for a little while, but she absolutely could not have set up a tent, fed and nurtured everyone, and turned the little park into a sanctuary. Grandma Redbird and the other women had done all of that, and they kept on doing it. All Shaunee was able to do was to wander a few feet from Thanatos’s side to the fire pit Grandma Redbird had built for her, plop her butt down on the ground, and stare into the dancing flames, trying to draw even a little strength from it to keep for herself.
“Uggh,” she moaned. The rush of power hit her again and she bent over, hugging herself around the waist.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Not able to speak yet, Shaunee nodded. Without looking at Erik, she focused on the campfire—on its heat and beauty and familiarity, on channeling it and encouraging it to blaze brighter and brighter. As her element roared through her, she snagged just a tiny bit of its strength for herself so that she didn’t pass out. She’d learned that trick a few hours ago, after passing out—again. Shaunee breathed slowly in and then out, in and then out, in and then out … until her element dissipated and she was able to sit up straight again.
Erik was at her side looking helpless and freaked-out. “Are you going to pass out? Should I get Grandma Redbird?”
“No.” Her voice sounded like sandpaper, and she cleared her throat. “And no, but I would like something to eat and drink.”
“Oh, sorry. Here.” He picked up the plate and the cup he’d put on the ground beside them. “I was bringing this to you.”
Shaunee took the plate, smiling wearily. “I think I’m becoming addicted to Grandma’s chocolate chip and lavender cookies. Seriously, I love them so much I feel like we’re in a relationship.” She took a big bite of soft, sweet cookie and a giant gulp from the glass. “Cookies and sweet tea. Does it get more Okie than that?”
Erik smiled, obviously relieved that she wasn’t doubled over in pain anymore or unconscious. “I think the only way you can get more Okie is to make it cookies and Dr Pepper.”
Shaunee screwed up her face. “That’s not Okie. That’s redneck. I’m not a native, but I’m pretty sure of those boundaries.”
“So, you’re feeling better,” Erik said.
Shaunee took another bite of cookie and talked around it. “Better than when I was bent over? Yes. Better better? No.”
“Why were you bent over like that anyway?”
“Someone of ill intent tried to enter or leave Tulsa, and the protective wall flamed on. When it does that, fire goes through me and I concentrate to intensify it,” she explained.
“That hurts?”
“Yeah, like trying to add one more set to a circuit workout that has already kicked your ass. Only I’m doing it over and over again and I don’t feel like I’m getting a break between circuits.”
Erik didn’t say anything for a little while. He just nibbled his own cookie and stared into the fire. Shaunee was okay with that. Silence and fire staring were good with her.
“You’re strong,” he eventually said, “a lot stronger than I realized before.”
“Before?”
“When you and Erin, well, you know,” he finished awkwardly.
“When we were Twins,” she said.
He nodded. “Yeah, but it was stupid of me to bring it up. The last thing you need is to feel sad right now. Sorry, sometimes I’m a douche and I don’t even mean to be.”
Shaunee felt herself smiling at him. “Hey, that’s a talent—being a douche without meaning to be.”
He sent a tentative smile back to her. “A crappy talent.”
“True, but still, not everybody has even a crappy talent,” she said. “Plus, you can act. Really act. So that accidental douche thing will probably come in handy when you head to Hollywood.”
“I don’t think I’m going to go to Hollywood,” he said.
Shaunee saw the shocked expression that fixed his face into frozen lines the instant he’d spoken the words.
“Is that the first time you’ve said that out loud?” she asked him gently.
“That’s the first time I’ve even thought it,” he said. His face had unfrozen, but now he was looking pale and unsure of himself. “I don’t know why I said it at all.”
Shaunee d
owned the rest of the sweet tea and then said, “Well, why did you want to go to Hollywood to begin with?”
“To be a star,” he answered quickly—automatically.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I want to be famous,” he said.
“Why?” she prompted again.
This time he took longer to respond. “So that people think I’m important.”
“Why do you care what people think?”
He turned his gaze into the fire. “Because I’m tired of people thinking I’m nothing but a great smile and awesome bone structure.”
Shaunee studied his profile. Had she ever looked beyond Erik’s famous hotness?
No. He’d always been the hottest guy on campus, and all she really knew about him was that lots of girls wanted him, and the most popular girls on campus had had him. She didn’t actually know anything about the guy under the famous Erik Night suit.
“If you could change what people think, what would want them to think of you?”
He turned from the fire and looked at her, and she realized that in those gorgeous blue eyes she could see honesty and vulnerability. “I wish they would think that I’m strong like Aurox, or brave like Darius, or faithful like Stark. Instead everyone thinks I’m a useless, conceited pretty boy.”
The raw honesty of what Erik had said had shocked her silent, and Shaunee was trying to figure out what to say next to him, when her body convulsed and flame blazed through her, using her as a superconductor on its way to reinforce Thanatos’s spell.
“Argh,” she moaned, holding herself tightly again and focusing … focusing … trying to strengthen her element as it roared through her.
But she was so tired! This had been going on for hours and hours. Why were so many people filled with ill intent? They were draining her! And probably killing Thanatos. No way could she keep this up. No way could she—
A strong arm went around her shoulders and Erik’s deep, beautiful voice spoke soothingly to her. “Breathe through it. It’s okay. You can do this. You’ve got this. Remember, flame is your element. It’s part of you. Don’t fight it—go with it. You can do it. You’re strong and smart. That’s why fire chose you. You can do it. I’m right here, and I believe in you, Shaunee. I know you can do this.”