“She’s a version of you, Lynette,” she told herself. “I’ll bet she got out too. And in this world, there was no war. She’s probably running a whole corporation and has a permanent table at the Summit Club reserved—by the west windows that look out over the river—just for her.”
She typed “Lynette Witherspoon” into the search bar and began reading as her coffee grew cold and her stomach grew hot with bile.
She’d been correct. This world’s Lynette Witherspoon had been a successful businesswoman. She’d lived in a mansion in midtown and thrived as the head of her own business.
And then last year, she’d been murdered—by Neferet.
Zoey
“Please tell me we’re not having another icepocalypse. We already had one. Last year. We are not due for another for five years or so.” I spoke into Stark’s chest as he cradled me against him while we stared into our fireplace. “At least Grandma’s been in town for the past couple days. I can almost smell her lavender chocolate chip cookies baking already—makes me almost wish for a week of ice.”
The storm had pretty much isolated the school, and I’d suspended classes for the night (at least) because the buses that ferried the red fledglings from the tunnels beneath the depot to campus were currently stuck on the ice rink that was our parking lot. So even though the sun had set, Stark and I hadn’t budged from our room and, the truth was, I was beginning to enjoy every minute of our unexpected laziness.
“Well, I’m no weatherman, but Trav Meyer is, and he says that this stuff seems stuck here for now, but he’s expecting it to clear in a day or so. It’s already kinda sorta stopped.”
“Kinda sorta? Does that mean—”
clunk!
And everything electric went black.
“Ah oh,” I said, though without much enthusiasm. Candles and gaslights lit the school, and we had a backup generator for things like the media center and our refrigerators, but there was something homey and romantic about the power being off and a snow day being called. The truth was, we could all use the break the isolation would bring.
Stark sighed. “I better go be sure the kitchen flips the refrigerators and freezers over to the generators.”
I mirrored his sigh. “And I better call Stevie Rae and be sure everything’s okay at the depot.”
“She’s not there, remember?”
“Oh, that’s right.” I grinned. After we’d cast the protective spell around the grotto last night, Stevie Rae and Aphrodite and I—as well as our guys, which included Damien and Jack—had hung out so long in the dining hall, laughing and eating and basically just destressing, that dawn had crept up on us and Stevie Rae and Rephaim had decided to stay on campus for the day. “Stevie Rae and Rephaim went to our old dorm room—well, more Stevie Rae than Rephaim. He was out there flying around in the ice somewhere while she snoozed the day away. I’m sure they’re curled up together right now, though.” I sighed and felt nostalgic. “I miss that room sometimes.”
Stark made a show of looking around our large and awesome living quarters that included a sitting room that faced a wide stone fireplace, a kitchenette, a giant bedroom, and a really nice bathroom, with a claw-foot bathtub. “You seriously miss one tiny room you shared with Stevie Rae and Kenny Chesney?”
I giggled. “Well, memory might have made it a little more luxurious than it was.”
“A little?”
“Okay, a lot.” I wrapped myself more tightly around him. “Don’t go yet. The chef is über-responsible. No way is she gonna let our food spoil. She’ll switch over to the generators, and Stevie Rae has those tunnel fledglings so organized that there’s nothing for me to worry about at the depot.”
“And if there is, Stevie Rae will handle it,” added Stark, squeezing me so tightly I made a little squeak.
“Hey, what about Woodward Park? The cameras won’t be recording if the electricity is out.”
“I think it’ll be fine. Darius stationed a Warrior there for the night shift. I’m sure he’s miserable, but I don’t think we need to send backup. Not in this icy mess.”
“Maybe you should call Darius and have him check in with the Warrior,” I said. “And we really need to think about adding a structure on top of that ridge for our vamps. I know they’re pretty much impervious to weather, but that doesn’t mean they don’t need some kind of shelter. I hate to think about the poor guy out there turning into a Son of Erebus–sicle.”
“I promise you Darius has that handled. Want me to call him and tell him to have the Warrior stand down and come back to campus, at least for the night?”
I thought about it and felt the itch of intuition that said I needed to stick with our original plan, even if it meant a miserable night for one Warrior.
“Sadly, no. We need to keep an eye on that grotto. Plus, if Darius thought we needed to call the Warrior back to campus, I’d have already heard from him.”
“I agree,” Stark settled back into the cushy couch with me.
“Do you actually think we can get one night to just relax and—” I kissed his neck. “Do—” I followed the kiss with a teasing little nip. “Nothing but this.” He met my lips and I sank into his kiss.
“Damn, I hope so,” Stark said as he pulled off the oversized T-shirt I was wearing, which was only right. It was his …
13
Other Neferet
Neferet wrapped herself in the cashmere robe Lynette had purchased for her the day before and joined her handmaid in the second-floor sitting room. Lynette was already there, of course, with her breakfast expertly prepared and waiting on a tray with a carafe of blood and wine on ice.
“Good day, dearest one,” she said as she swept past Lynette, who was, as usual, hard at work on her borrowed computer. Neferet poured herself a goblet of bloody wine and took a
