Betrayed

thousands of them—but it also had a very cool, up-to-date computer lab.

'Of course, make yourself at home and feel free to call on me if you can't find what you need.'

'Thanks.'

I picked a computer that sat on a nice big desk and clicked into the Internet. This was something else that was way different than my old school. Here there were no passwords and no Internet fil­tering program that restricted sites. Here students were expected to show some sense and act right—and if they didn't it's not like the vamps, who were almost impossible to lie to, wouldn't find out. Just thinking about trying to lie to Neferet made my stomach hurt.

Focus and stop messing around. This is important.

Okay, so an idea had been milling around in my head. It was time to see if there was anything to it. I pulled up Google and typed in 'private preparatory schools.' Zillions came up. I started narrowing. I wanted exclusive and upper class (none of those stu­pid 'alternative academies' that were really just holding pens for future criminals— ugh). I also wanted old schools, ones that had been around for generations. I was looking for something that had passed the test of time.

I easily found Chatham Hall, which was the school Aphrodite's parents had thrown in her face. It was an exclusive East Coast prep school and, man, did it look stuck-up. I clicked out. Any place Aphrodite's freak parents approved of would not be something I wanted to use as a role model. I kept searching ... Exeter ... Andover ... Taft ... Miss Porter's (really—hee hee—that's the school's name) ... Kent ...

'Kent. I've heard that name before,' I told Nala, who had curled up on top of the desk so that she could watch me sleepily. I clicked into it. 'It's in Connecticut—that's why it's familiar. This is where Shaunee had been going when she was Marked.' I browsed through the site, curious to see where Shaunee had spent the first part of her freshman (or third former) year. It was a pretty school—there was no denying that. Stuck-up, sure, but there was something about it that seemed more welcoming than the other prep schools. Maybe it was just because I knew Shaunee. I kept going through the site—and suddenly sat up straighter. 'This is it,' I muttered to myself. 'This is the kind of stuff I need.'

I pulled out my pen and notebook paper and got busy taking notes. Lots of notes.

If Nala hadn't hissed a warning, I would have jumped out of my skin when a deep voice spoke behind me.

'You look completely engrossed in that.'

I glanced over my shoulder—and froze. Ohmygod.

'Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you. It was just so unusual to see a student writing feverishly in longhand, rather than pecking away at the computer keys, that I thought you might be writing poetry. You see, I prefer to write poetry longhand. The computer is just too impersonal.'

Stop being such a moron! Speak to him! My mind screamed at me. 'I—uh—I'm not writing poetry.' God, that was brilliant.

'Oh, well. Doesn't hurt to check. Nice talking with you.'

He smiled and started to turn away and my mouth finally managed to work a little more correctly. 'Uh, I think computers are impersonal, too. I've never really written poetry, but when I write something that's important to me I like to do it like this.' Totally dorklike, I held up my pen.

'Well, maybe you should try writing poetry. Sounds like you might have the soul of a poet.' He held out his hand. 'Usually about this time of day I come by and give Sappho a break. I'm not a full-time professor because I'm only here for one school year. I just teach two classes, so I have extra time. I'm Loren Blake, Vampyre Poet Laureate.'

I grasped his forearm in the traditional vampyre greeting, try­ing not to think about how warm his arm was, how strong he felt, and how alone we were in the empty media center.

'I know,' I said. Then I wanted to slit my throat. What an idi­otic thing to say! 'What I mean is I know who you are. You're the first male Poet Laureate they've named in two hundred years.' I realized I was still grasping his arm and let go of him. 'I'm Zoey Redbird.'

His smile made my heart flop around inside my chest. 'I know who you are, too.' His gorgeous eyes, so dark they looked black and bottomless, sparkled mischievously. 'You're the first fledgling to have a colored-in, expanded Mark, as well as the only vamp, fledgling or adult, to have an affinity for all five of the elements. It's nice to finally meet you face-to-face. Neferet's told me a lot about you.'

'She has?' I was mortified that my voice squeaked.

'Of course she has. She's incredibly proud of you.' He nodded at the empty seat beside me. 'I don't want to interrupt your work, but do you mind if I sit with you a little while?'

'Yeah, sure. I need a break. I think my butt's asleep.' Oh, God, just kill me now.

He laughed. 'Well then, would you like to stand while I sit?'

'No, I'll—uh—just shift my weight.' And then I'll hurl myself out the window.

'So, if it's not too personal, may I ask what you're working so diligently on?'

Okay, I needed to think and talk. Be normal. Forget that he was easily the most heart-stoppingly beautiful man I'd ever been near in my entire life. He's a professor at the school. Just another teacher. That's all. Yeah, right. Just another teacher who looked like every woman's dream of The Perfect Man. And I did mean Man. Erik was hot and handsome and very cool. Loren Blake was a whole other universe. A totally off-limits, impossibly sexy uni­verse I was not allowed access to. As if he saw me as anything but a kid anyway. Please. I'm sixteen. Okay, almost seventeen, but still. He's probably at least twenty-one or something. He was just being nice. More than likely he wanted a closer look at my freaky Marks. He could be collecting research for a highly embarrassing poem about the-

'Zoey? If you don't want to tell me what you're working on, that's fine. I really didn't mean to bother you.'

'No! It's okay.' I drew a deep breath and got myself together. 'Sorry—guess I was still thinking about my research,' I lied, hop­ing that he was a young enough vamp that he didn't have the in­credible lie detector powers the older profs had. I blundered quickly on. 'I want to change the Dark Daughters. I think it needs a foundation— some clear rules and guidelines. Not just to join, but once you're in there should be standards. You shouldn't be given a free pass to be as big a jerk as you want to be, and still get the privilege of being a Dark Daughter or Son.' I paused and I could feel my face getting hot and red. What the hell was I bab­bling on about? I must sound like the school idiot.

But instead of laughing at me or, worse, saying something pa­tronizing and taking off, he seemed to be considering what I said. 'So what have you come up with?' he asked.

'Well, I like the way this private school called Kent runs their student leadership group. Look—' I clicked on the right link and read from the text. 'The Senior Council and Prefect System is an integral part of life at Kent. These students are chosen as leaders who vow to be role models and to manage all aspects of student life at Kent.' I used my pen to point at the computer screen. 'See, there are several different Prefects, and they are elected to each yearly Council by votes of the students and the faculty, but the final choice is made by the Headmaster—which would be Neferet—and the Senior Prefect.'

'Which would be you,' he said.

I could feel my face getting hot. Again. 'Yeah. It also says every May new Council members are 'Tapped' as possible appointees for the next school year, and there's a big service held to cele­brate.' I smiled, and said, more to myself than him, 'Sounds like a new ritual Nyx would approve of.' As I said the words I felt the rightness of them deep within me.

'I like it,' Loren said. 'I think it's a great idea.'

'Really? You're not just saying that?'

'There's something about me that you should know. I don't lie.'

I stared into his eyes. They seemed bottomless. He was sitting so close to me that I could feel the heat from his body, which made me suppress a shiver from a sudden rush of forbidden de­sire. 'Well, thanks then,' I said softly. Feeling suddenly bold, I continued. 'I want the Dark Daughters to stand for more than just a social group. I want them to set examples—do the right things. So I thought that each of us would have to swear to up­hold five ideals representing the five elements.'

His brows went up. 'What did you have in mind?'

'The Dark Daughters and Sons should swear to be authentic for air, faithful for fire, wise for water,