Mrs. Muir had done exactly as had been requested, and after Lynette and Neferet changed into warm bathrobes they took their places before the fireplace—though neither touched the wine. Lynette put the file that held the copy of the stories about the immortal Neferet on the coffee table and then waited for her to speak.
With no preamble, she began. “Dearest, when I faced the Monstress I knew immediately that I had made a mistake by counting on her to show me the path to immortality. That creature would never help me or anyone who was not her servant—and even then, help would only be offered if it benefited her.”
Lynette nodded, but remained silent, though that was exactly what she had feared after reading the events that had led up to that Neferet’s entombment.
“When I looked at her—at what she had become—I glimpsed, for just a moment—my future.”
Lynette held her breath as nausea overwhelmed her.
Neferet met her gaze. “I will not allow that to happen to me.”
Lynette’s breath released in a sigh. “Oh, my lady, I am so glad.”
“I can feel the seduction of it, the pull of it. Being in control means that no one will ever have the opportunity to hurt me or anyone I love—and what better control than to become a goddess?” Neferet sighed. “But witnessing what that creature has become shook me to my core and made me realize that I cannot allow myself to be such a whore to power that I sell my soul to achieve it. I have power. I have wealth. And, with you, I now have a family. I believe that might be enough for me to find not immortality—not dominance over all—but, perhaps, contentment in this lifetime, which is something I have not known since I was an un-Marked girl in Chicago dreaming of the kindness of a husband and a family of my own.”
Lynette leaned forward eagerly. “I have an idea! While you were out today, I did some research, and I think you might like it.”
“Tell me, dearest.”
“First, I have to ask you a crass question.”
Neferet’s dark brows lifted. “I am intrigued. Ask.”
“How rich are you?”
The vampyre’s full lips tilted up. “Very. I do not believe neither you nor I, even with our rather extravagant tastes, could spend close to all of what I have in several lifetimes. My money is very good at growing. I invest wisely.”
“And no one can touch that money?”
“No one except me.”
“Good. My idea is for you to buy an island—something in the Mediterranean that harkens back to ancient times.”
Neferet sat up straighter. “Capri was our capital before Pompeii exploded.”
Lynette nodded enthusiastically. “That’s what I found as I researched. My lady, there are many beautiful islands in the Mediterranean—developed islands. If you bought one, you could rule there—not as a goddess, but as a queen. We could populate it with artists, musicians, storytellers, dancers, and artisans. It would be a haven for lovely things. And everyone on your isle would be willing, loving subjects of its queen.”
Neferet said nothing for a moment and then, very softly, said, “But would anyone come?”
Lynette lifted the little silver bell that called Mrs. Muir, and the stout woman huffed into the sitting room. She curtsied stiffly, but her smile was warm. “Yes, my lady?”
“Mrs. Muir, if Herself bought an island and built on it a villa—no, better—a castle, would you consider coming there with her? You would, of course, run the household and have a staff befitting your station, which would be that of a loyal and trusted subject of a queen—our Queen Neferet. The castle and island realm would be filled with artists, musicians, and such talent—and all would be under the patronage of Herself. Would you come, Mrs. Muir? Would you serve Queen Neferet?”
“Och aya, it would be a bonnie dream come true.” She curtsied deeply to Neferet.
Neferet stood and took Mrs. Muir’s hands, helping her up. “Thank you, dear Mrs. Muir.”
“Och, well, ye didnae think I would let someone else cook for ye, did ye?”
“No, of course not, Mrs. Muir.”
“Weel, good ’en. Will there be anythin’ else this night?”
“Not tonight, rest well until tomorrow,” Neferet said.
Mrs. Muir bobbed her head and went from the room on feet that seemed lighter.
“Lynette, dearest, pour us some wine and let us discuss this very promising idea of yours.”
As she poured, Lynette said, “I narrowed it down to five islands. I thought we would visit each of them—if you agree, of course. After you make the choice, I will manage everything. None of the islands are perfectly ready for what we need, so it may take a year or so for all to be in order, but I can use the construction time to recruit talent. Oh, my lady! You and I will have such a wonderful future.” She smiled at Neferet. “I should start calling you Your Majesty.”
“Your island dream sounds delightful,” said Neferet.
Lynette’s smile dimmed. “Why do I sense a but?”
“Because wee Denise’s information changes everything.”
Lynette wanted to shout, We’ll be on an island! We won’t be with a House of Night! Then the image of that monster—that obscene version of her Neferet—flashed across Lynette’s memory and she knew it would not matter. That creature would find them—find her—anywhere in any world. Lynette stared at Neferet and she realized what her decision had to be.
“You’re going to try to kill her.”
“If we are to ever find peace, I must,” said Neferet.
“But she’s immortal. She can’t be killed and, apparently, entombing her isn’t permanent either.”
“Then we need to enlist the aid of an immortal,” said Neferet.
“The High Priestess in that world had an immortal. That’s how she sealed their Neferet in that grotto.”
“Ah, but that is one reason I asked you to bring these.” Neferet tapped one long nail on the folder. “If I remember correctly, that immortal was a creature created by the Monstress. Perhaps that is why she was able to break the seal—because it was not powerful
