Betrayed

It made me see Aphrodite with totally new eyes, which I wasn't particularly thrilled about.

CHAPTER 3

'Yeah, Zoey, I understand what you're sayin' and all, but hello! Part of what you overheard was that Aphrodite is gonna try to set you up so that she can get you kicked out of the Dark Daughter leadership, so don't go feeling too darn sorry for her,' Stevie Rae said.

'I know—I know. I'm not getting all warm and fuzzy about her. I'm just saying that after overhearing her with her psycho parents I understand why she is like she is.'

We were walking to first hour. Well, actually, Stevie Rae and I were practically running to first hour. As usual, we were almost late. I knew I shouldn't have had that second bowl of Count Chocula.

Stevie Rae rolled her eyes. 'And you say I'm too nice.'

'I'm not being nice. I'm being understanding. But under­standing doesn't change the fact that Aphrodite acts like a hag bitch from hell.'

Stevie Rae made a snorting noise and shook her head, causing her blond curls to bounce like she was a little girl. Her short cut was odd at the House of Night where everyone, even most of the guys, had ridiculously long, thick hair. Okay, my hair has always been long, but still—it was really weird when I first got here and was bombarded with hair hair hair. Now it made perfect sense.

Part of the physical Change that happens as we become vampyres is that our hair and nails grow abnormally fast. After a little prac­tice, you can tell what year a fledgling is without checking the crest on her jacket. Vampyres looked different than humans (not bad different—just different), so it's only logical that as a fledg­ling passes through more and more of the Change her body looks different, too.

'Zoey, you're so not paying attention.'

'Huh?'

'I said, don't let your guard down about Aphrodite. Yes, she has nightmare parents. Yes, they're controlling and manipulating her. Whatever. She's still hateful and mean and vindictive. Watch out for her.'

'Hey, don't worry. I will.'

'Okay, good. I'll see you third hour.'

'See ya,' I called to her back. Jeesh, she was such a worrier.

I hurried into class and had just taken my seat in the desk next to Damien, who raised an eyebrow at me and said, 'Another two-bowl morning?' when the bell rang and Neferet swept into the room.

Okay, I know it's bordering on weird (or maybe queer is the better word choice) to continually notice how gorgeous a woman is when you're a woman, too, but Neferet is so damn beautiful that it's like she has the ability to focus all the light in the room on herself. She was wearing a simple black dress and totally to die for black boots. She had on her silver Goddess path earrings and, as always, the silver embroidered Goddess rested over her heart. She didn't exactly look like the Goddess Nyx—who I swear I'd seen in a vision the day I was Marked—but she had the Goddess's aura of strength and confidence. I'll just admit it. I wanted to be her.

Today was unusual. Instead of lecturing for most of the hour (and, no, amazingly enough Neferet was never a boring lecturer) she gave us an essay assignment on the Gorgon, who we had been studying all week. We learned that actually she had not been a monster who turned men to stone with a glance. She had been a famous vampyre High Priestess whose Goddess-given gift was an affinity, or a special connection, for the earth, which is probably where the 'turn to stone' myth came from. I'm pretty sure if a vamp High Priestess got pissed enough and had a magical con­nection with the earth (stones do come from the earth), she could easily zap someone into granite. So today's assignment was to write an essay on human myth and symbolism, and the meaning behind the fictionalization of the Gorgon's story.

But I was too restless to write. Plus, I had all weekend to finish the essay. I was way more worried about the Dark Daughters. The full moon was Sunday. I would be expected to lead the ritual for the Dark Daughters. I realized everyone was also expecting me to make an announcement about changes I planned to make. Uh, I needed to have a clue about those changes. Surprisingly, I did have an idea, but it definitely needed help.

I ignored Damien's curious look as I quickly gathered up my notebook and went up to Neferet's desk.

'Problem, Zoey?' she asked.

'No. Uh, yes. Well, actually, if you would let me go to the me­dia center for the rest of the hour, my problem would probably go away.' I realized I was nervous. I'd only been at the House of Night for a month, and I still wasn't sure about the protocol for being excused from class. I mean, there were only two kids in the entire month who'd gotten sick. And they'd died. Both of them. Their bodies had rejected the Change, one had happened right in front of me during Lit class. It had been totally gross. But other than the occasional dying kid students rarely missed class. Nef­eret was watching me, and I remembered that she was an intu­itive and she could probably sense the ridiculous babble going on in my head. I sighed. 'It's Dark Daughters stuff. I want to come up with some new leadership ideas.'

She looked pleased. 'Anything I can help you with?'

'Probably, but I need to do some research and get my ideas straight first.'

'Very well, come to me when you're ready. And feel free to spend as much time in the media center as you need,' Neferet said.

I hesitated. 'Do I need a pass?'

She smiled. 'I am your mentor and I have given you permis­sion, what more could you need?'

'Thanks,' I said, and hurried out of the classroom feeling stu­pid. I would be so glad when I'd been at the school long enough to know all the little inside rules. And, anyway, I don't know what I'd been so worried about. The halls were deserted. Unlike my old high school (South Intermediate High School in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma— which is a totally boring suburb of Tulsa) there were no Napoleon Complex, overly tanned vice principals with noth­ ing better to do than to prowl the halls harassing kids. I slowed down and told myself to relax—jeesh, I'd been stressed out lately.

The library was in the front center area of the school in a cool multilevel room that had been built to mimic the turret of a cas­tle, which fit in well with the theme of the rest of the school. The whole thing looked like something out of the past. That was probably one of the reasons it had attracted the attention of the vamps five years ago. Then it had been a stuck-up rich kids' prep school, but it had originally been built as a monastery for the Saint Augustine People of Faith monks. I remember that when I asked how the prep school had been talked into selling to the vamps Neferet had told me that they'd made them a deal they couldn't refuse. The memory of the dangerous tone her voice had taken still made my skin crawl.

'Me-eeh-uf-ow!'

I jumped and almost peed on myself. 'Nala! You scared the crap outta me!'

Unconcerned, my cat launched herself into my arms, and I had to juggle notebook, purse, and small (but chubby) orange cat. All the while Nala complained at me in her grumpy old lady cat voice. She adored me, and she'd definitely chosen me as her own, but that didn't mean that she was always pleasant. I shifted her, and pushed open the door to the media center.

Oh—what Neferet had told my stupid step-loser John had been the truth. Cats do roam free all over the school. They often fol­lowed 'their' kid to class. Nala, in particular, liked to find me sev­eral times a day. She'd insist I scratch her head, complain a little at me, and then take off and go do whatever cats did with their free time. (Plot world domination?)

'Do you need help with her?' the media specialist asked. I had only met her briefly during my orientation week, but I remem­bered her name was Sappho. (Uh, she wasn't the real Sappho—that vampyre poet had died like a thousand years ago—right now we were studying her work in Lit class.)

'No, Sappho, but thank you. Nala doesn't really like anyone except me.'

Sappho, a tiny dark-haired vamp whose tattoos were elaborate symbols Damien had told me were Greek alphabet glyphs, smiled fondly at Nala. 'Cats are such wonderfully interesting creatures, don't you think?'

I moved Nala to my other shoulder and she grumbled in my ear. 'They're definitely not dogs,' I said.

'Thank the Goddess for that!'

'Do you mind if I use one of the computers?' The media cen­ter was lined with row after row of books—