Destined

Neferet

When the bell chimed to end first hour Neferet moved nonchalantly to the doorway of her classroom. Under the guise of saying good-bye to what was left of the class after Thanatos had culled it for her own special first hour, Neferet positioned herself so that she could watch the High Council member’s students as they departed.

Dallas, now would be a lovely time to orchestrate another altercation.

No sooner had the thought formed in her mind then the young red vampyre himself moved into her view. He wasn’t posturing or provoking. Neferet frowned. He and his ragged group of compatriots were slinking from Thanatos’s first hour as if they were dogs with their tails tucked between their legs.

Then Zoey’s group, minus Zoey, she noted, hurried from class all moving in the same direction. The same direction? Most of them had different second-hour classes. No matter how sheep-like they were, they should not all be traveling together.

Aurox emerged and Neferet smiled.

As if he could feel her gaze the vessel looked her way.

“Come to me,” she mouthed the words and gestured to her office. Neferet didn’t wait to see if the vessel complied. She knew he would do as commanded.

“Yes, Priestess,” he said, standing before her desk. “You called?”

“Did anything unusual happen first hour?”

“Unusual, Priestess?”

Neferet barely contained her irritation. Must he be so stupid? “Yes, unusual! I noticed Dallas and his group seemed unusually reserved, and many of the other students, those closest to Zoey Redbird, left together as if they had somewhere to go that was not their second-hour class.”

“Your observation is correct, Priestess. Thanatos intends to oversee Zoey and her circle performing a ritual so that she may then cast a spell invoking death. Her intent is for Zoey to witness the truth of her mother’s death and thereby to attain closure.”

“What?” Neferet felt as if her mind was going to explode.

“Yes, Priestess. Thanatos is using Zoey as an example of how all fledglings and vampyres can overcome the loss of a parent.”

Neferet lifted her hand, palm out, and the threads of Darkness swarmed to her. Aurox took a step back, obviously uncomfortable with her tumultuous emotions. She made a conscious effort to control herself and the sticky tendrils quieted.

“Where is this spellcasting taking place?”

“At the site of Zoey’s mother’s murder.”

Through clenched teeth Neferet managed to say, “When? When is this happening?”

“They are gathering to leave now, Priestess.”

“And you are quite certain Thanatos is accompanying them?”

“Yes, Priestess.”

“May all the immortals be damned!” Neferet almost spat the curse. “A reveal ritual. It must be accompanied by the casting of a very specific spell…” She drummed her pointed fingernails on her desk, thinking. “It would have to be earth-based, as it is within that specific plot of earth that the death would have been Imprinted. It is Stevie Rae then, and not Zoey who must be impeded.” She turned her attention back to Aurox. “This is my command: you will thwart this ritual and the casting of the death spell. Do whatever you must to stop it, even if you must kill, although I do not want the death to be one of the Priestesses.” She grimaced in annoyance. “Unfortunately, the price of a Priestess’s death is too costly, especially as I don’t have an equitable sacrifice to offer,” she muttered, almost to herself. Then she caught the vessel’s moonstone gaze with her own. “Do not kill a Priestess. I’d prefer no one realize you were there, but if you cannot stop the spell without giving yourself away, then do what you must. Your command is that the ritual and its spellwork go awry, so that Thanatos cannot reveal the manner of Zoey’s mother’s death. Do you understand me?”

“I do, Priestess.”

“Then get out of here and do as I command. If you are discovered do not expect me to rescue you. Expect me to forget we ever had this conversation.”

When he simply stood there staring at her, she said, “What is it? Why are you not already obeying my orders?”

“I do not know where to go, Priestess. How do I reach the location of the ritual?”

Neferet squelched the urge to smite him to his knees with Darkness. Instead she scribbled an address on a notepad, tore it off, and handed it to him. “Use the GPS as I’ve showed you before. This is the address. It couldn’t be easier if I conjured you there.”

He bowed, clutching the paper. “As you command, Priestess,” he said, leaving the room.

“And be careful they do not see you arriving!”

“Yes, Priestess,” he said before closing the door behind him.

Neferet watched him go. “I wish he was smarter,” she whispered to the dark tendrils that crawled up her arms and caressed her wrists. “Oh, but you are, aren’t you? Go with him. Strengthen him. Watch him. Be quite sure he does not falter in obeying my simple commands. Then return and tell me everything.” The tendrils hesitated. Neferet sighed and, with a quick flick of her forefinger, she sliced the inside of her bicep and ground her teeth as Darkness fed from her. Shortly, she waved them away and licked the shallow wound closed. “Go now. You’ve taken your payment. Do my bidding,”

The shadows slithered from her and Neferet, content, called for her assistant to bring her a glass of wine laced with blood.

“Find some virgin’s blood this time,” she snapped when the young vampyre answered her summons. “The other is simply too common, and I have a feeling a celebration will soon be in order.”

“Yes, Priestess, as you command.” The assistant bowed and scurried out.

“That is right.” Neferet spoke aloud to the listening shadows. “All will be as I command. And someday soon they will not call me Priestess, but Goddess. Someday very soon…”

Neferet laughed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Dragon

A Sword Master notices everything. It’s part of what makes him successful—what keeps him alive. Though it didn’t take his preternatural abilities of observation for Dragon Lankford to know something was going on with Zoey’s inner group. It only took following his instincts and asking one simple question.

Shortly after second hour was underway Dragon instructed his students to begin their warm-up exercises, and told them he would return momentarily. Instinct had been niggling at him, driving him, prodding him, worrying him. Darius and Stark were talented Warriors—both more than capable in their specialized areas of weaponry. Darius was probably the most gifted knife thrower Dragon had ever known, and Stark’s infallibility with bow and arrow was, indeed, awe inspiring.

Neither of those abilities meant they should be in charge of training young, impressionable fledglings. Teaching was a gift in itself, and Dragon very much doubted that two such youthful vampyres had the experience and wisdom needed to be true professors.

She had been young when she was made a professor, so very young. That was how he’d met her—his mate—his life—his own. He knew what Anastasia would say were she here. She would smile kindly and remind him that he should not judge others harshly because of their youth—that once he had known how that felt. She would remind him that he was in the perfect position to mentor the youths—to be sure they developed into worthy Warriors and exceptional teachers.

But Anastasia was as dead as the past and because of that his life was utterly changed. Dragon did not want to supervise or mentor or oversee young professors, especially in light of the fact that they had begun this extra class so that he would not have to suffer the presence of the Raven Mocker turned boy. But Dragon was finding that