The Warrior shrugged. “Seems to me humans like to be told what to do by their gods.”
Stark snorted. “Obviously.” He glanced up, squinting at a sky that had gone from gray and pink to pastel oranges and blues. “Time for us to get back to the House of Night. Zoey will be glad that the cameras are up and rolling. She already has blue vamps ready to keep watch over the cameras in shifts during the day. Good job tonight.” Stark smiled at the watching Warriors. “Good job, all of you.”
They saluted before following him back into the park heading to the area that Neferet knew was a parking lot.
She also now knew either Warriors or cameras would always be watching the imprisoning grotto. But that didn’t worry her. Neferet was more than prepared to deal with prying eyes.
She waited until the black House of Night SUV pulled out of the park and took a right as it headed back to the sleeping school. Then she turned to Lynette.
“I heard them,” said her handmaid. “They left cameras. Do you want me to try to disconnect them?”
“No, dearest. But thank you for the lovely offer. If the cameras are tampered with, vampyres will surely be here within minutes. You know how close the school is to the park.”
Lynette seemed herself again and was looking around, wide-eyed. “It’s so weird. It looks like our park—our Tulsa—yet it isn’t.”
“Can you feel it, too?”
Lynette shifted the heavy travel satchel so that it rested more comfortably on her shoulder. “Feel it?”
“That this Tulsa is not ours. Even had there not been obvious differences, like the tacky lights on the houses and the wall around the grotto, I would know I am not home.”
Lynette considered, her eyes sweeping the area. “It does feel different. I—I don’t want to offend you.”
“You could not. I value your honesty.”
“Well, then the difference is that this Tulsa feels somehow lighter. If that makes sense.”
Neferet nodded. “It does. It was exactly what I was thinking. They have not known war, my dear. Or at least not a human-vampyre war.”
“Obviously,” Lynette agreed. “Which means they will be weaker than vampyres from our world.”
Neferet’s smile was fierce. “Indeed. And oh, so surprised I am here. Though I am determined not to lose focus. I am not here for vengeance. I am here to attain immortality and return to our world.”
Lynette nodded in agreement. “Of course. You’re very wise not to get distracted. What now, my lady?”
“I want to get a closer look at the prison they’ve walled this world’s version of me up in. But first I need a little help with concealment.”
It was a simple spell that any mature vampyre—and many of the more adventurous fledglings—could easily cast. It was the first spell fledglings learned upon entry to the House of Night. One that kept them safe from human eyes should they get caught outside the walls of their school and surrounded by hostile humans. But Neferet was more than a century older than a newly Marked fledgling and even though she had renounced her position of High Priestess she still carried in her blood and in her spirit the magick granted to all vampyres—and she was well versed in how to use it. Neferet could cast a conceal spell that didn’t just hide herself and Lynette from potential onlookers, Neferet could cast a conceal spell that covered all of Tulsa. She faced west, the direction from which water was conjured and also, coincidentally, the direction she would travel should she want to walk the few blocks to the Arkansas River. She drew in several deep breaths to center herself, and then spoke softly, coaxingly.
“Water, I call you.
Come to me in the form of mist,
conceal me from spying eyes,
and make me one with thee.”
Neferet imagined thick, soup-like fog covering not just Lynette and her, but blanketing all of midtown and the heart of downtown Tulsa so that whomever was watching the cameras from the House of Night would be fooled into believing that there was nothing amiss—nothing at all to see but morning fog rolling in from the river.
From the west gray clouds billowed over midtown. They blanketed Woodward Park in a mist so thick that within minutes the grotto was completely obscured.
“Come, but stay close,” she told Lynette. “We could easily get separated in this.”
Neferet felt her way along the porous boulders until she reached the wall that jutted from the otherwise natural-looking ridge. The instant she touched it Neferet gasped and pulled her hand back.
“What is it?” Lynette whispered from beside her.
“It feels cold. And wrong.” The tiny hairs on Neferet’s arms prickled as they lifted, and her stomach rolled. For a moment she thought she might actually be sick. Then she shook herself. It is not me. I am not entombed there. Then she pressed her hand firmly against the stone.
It was frigid. Neferet forced herself to keep her hand on the wall. She closed her eyes and concentrated, and through the rock she sensed several things at once: rage, restlessness, and hunger. An all-consuming hunger that was like a gnawing pain pouring into her palm and spreading throughout her body with each new beat of her heart.
With the rage and hunger an image began to form in Neferet’s mind. She couldn’t actually see within the tomb, but she could sense the trapped goddess. She was surrounded by darkness that seethed and moved restlessly like a nest of vipers.
Neferet pressed her palm harder against the icy stone, until she felt more—the thing that kept the goddess sealed within. It was incredibly powerful, and it was causing the cold. She sensed that the seal was round, and it covered the entire wall, extending to the top of the rock so that it pressed into the side of the ridge. It pulsed like it was alive and
