“Back to what I was sayin’,” said Stevie Rae. “Kacie’s young and all, but her connection to water is strong. I’ll bet it would tell her if something wonky is up.”
“I vote for Ice Cream Shoes,” said Aphrodite.
Stark and I shared a look. He shrugged, which is pretty much how I felt about it too. Technically, I was too young to be a High Priestess in charge of an entire House of Night, as well as being head of the new North American High Council, but that hadn’t stopped me—or my friends—from standing up to Neferet’s evil and taking on leadership positions.
“Good idea, Stevie Rae,” I said. “Go get Ice Cream Shoes.”
As Stevie Rae hurried from the conference room, Aphrodite muttered, “I knew that nickname would catch on.”
I rolled my eyes at Aphrodite and returned my attention to the five foggy images. I pointed at one of the recordings. “Are those humans?”
“Shit! I didn’t watch this far before I called you guys here. I can’t tell whether they’re fledglings or not.”
“Damien,” I said. “When we’re done here, would you please pass the word to the professors to check in with their students to be sure no blue fledglings were out messing around just after dawn?”
Aphrodite straightened in her chair and stared at the screen with me. “Those aren’t fledglings. I mean, kids can be stupid, but even teenagers know better than to hang out by Neferet’s tomb.”
Stark’s lips curved up and his eyes glinted mischievously. “Aren’t you a teenager?”
“Don’t be stupid, Bow Boy. I’m twenty-one. Totally adult.” She bumped him with her shoulder. “Move over. I wanta see.”
Stark had slowed the feed so that we could study it more closely, and we watched the recording creep forward in time as five hooded figures approached the wall that surrounded the grotto. It was too foggy to see anything very well, but we could tell that they were carrying offerings.
Aphrodite snorted with disgust. “Oh, for shit’s sake, are they actually bringing offerings to that crazy bitch’s tomb?”
“Looks like it,” I said, squinting at the screen.
“They’re wearing cloaks that correspond to the elements,” Damien observed.
“Hell!” I said. “We’ll need to be sure they aren’t fledglings.”
Aphrodite’s well-manicured finger pointed at the foggy group. “What are they looking at?”
As a group, the five had turned to their right after placing their candles and whatever else they’d been carrying in niches in the wall. They all froze, staring into the fog, before they began walking forward. Then it was like the fog swallowed them.
“What the hell?” Stark said.
“Can you rewind that?” Damien asked.
“Yeah, no problem.” Stark picked up a remote and pressed the rewind button.
“Okay, stop there.” Damien leaned forward studying the screen. “Now let it play, but slowly, and when I tell you to stop—pause it.”
“Will do,” said Stark.
We all watched the hooded figures walk forward as one and place their offerings on the wall. They waited a moment, and as they turned, in obvious response to something to their right, Damien said, “Stop!”
Stark hit pause, and I sucked in a breath. “What is that on that person’s face?”
Aphrodite said, “Her face. They’re women. Look at how the cloaks cling to their bodies as they turn. Those are definitely boobs—five sets of them.”
I nodded. “Good catch, Aphrodite. But what’s that on her face?”
One of the cameras, the one farthest to the right and, like the others, situated in the limbs of the oaks that stood sentinel above the tomb, had just caught the face of the woman in the purple cloak. For a second I thought she was just one of those girls who liked to put on so much mascara and eyeliner that she looked raccoonish, but as I studied the grainy, indistinct picture I realized it was much more than that.
The tip of Damien’s finger touched the screen. “She’s painted a triple moon on her forehead. And this,” he traced the girl’s face, “is like a black mask, though I think it’s also painted on. Is there any way to magnify this?”
Aphrodite scoffed. “Like we’re the FBI?”
“Actually, I could get one of the computer fledglings on it,” said Stark.
“Yeah, the new budget I approved at the end of last year had a lot of computer stuff on it.”
“I’ll take a screenshot and get it to them,” said Stark.
Aphrodite plopped down in a chair and shook back her long blonde hair. “It’s still hard for me to believe humans have such damn short memories. A year ago Neferet ate a couple hundred of them. What didn’t they get about that? Do they think she’s having a restful little vacay walled up in that grotto and will emerge to hold hands with them and have a fucking tea party?”
Kacie snorted as she entered the room. “Humans are morons.”
We turned to see that Stevie Rae had returned with Kacie. I hadn’t known the kid long—actually, I’d just been introduced to her a week before. That same day she’d rejected the Change and died in a pool full of blood, chlorine, and water during the first human-fledgling swim meet in House of Night history. But she’d kinda, sorta accidentally been granted a second chance by Aphrodite and resurrected as a fully Changed red vampyre with affinities for water and fire. Now, she was standing just inside the room with her hands on her curvy waist, and I was struck again by how pretty she was—and by the unique red tattoo that framed her face with waves that morphed into flames. Today she was wearing adorable overalls over a short little pullover made of the Tulsa House of Night’s black, purple, and dark green plaid, which looked great against her brown skin.
Kacie took her hands from her waist and shrugged. “No offense. I know some of you have human friends. But, seriously, all the humans I know are total morons.”
“Less commentary, Ice Cream
