Zoey
"You look really tired." I touched Stark's face as if I could smooth away the dark circles under his eyes. "I thought you slept most of the whole flight."
Stark kissed my palm and made what looked to be an attempt at his cocky smile, which failed miserably. "I'm cool. It's just jet lag."
"How can you be jet-lagged before they've even opened the door of the jet?" I pointed my chin in the direction of the vampyre flight attendant who was busy doing whatever it was they did to get a plane open after landing. There was a whooshing sound and the seat belt light made an annoyingly loud ding! ding! sound.
"There, the door's open. I can be jet lagged now," Stark said as he unbuckled his seat belt.
Knowing he was completely full of bullpoopie, I grabbed his wrist and made him stay in his seat.
"You know I can tell something's wrong."
Stark sighed. "I'm just having bad dreams again, that's all. And when I wake up I can't ever really remember them. Somehow that seems like the worst part. It's probably a weird side effect from being in the Otherworld."
"Great. You have PTSD. I knew it. Hey, I think I remember reading in one of the House of Night newsletters that Dragon is one of the school counselors. Maybe you could see him and--"
"No!" Stark interrupted, and then kissed my nose when I frowned at him. "Stop worrying. I'm fine. I don't need to talk to Dragon about my bad dreams. Plus, I don't know what the hell PTSD is, but it sounds enough like an STD to be dodgy."
I couldn't help it, I giggled. "Dodgy? You sound like Seoras."
"Aye, wumman, then it's mindin' me you should be! Get yur arse outta yur chair." I scowled and shook my head. "Do. Not. Call. Me. Woman. Plus, it's freakish how well you can do that accent." He did have a point about getting out of the stupid plane, though, so I stood up and waited for him to grab my carry-on bag. While we were walking up the ramp from the plane I added, "And PTSD stands for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."
"How do you know that?"
"I Googled your symptoms and it came up."
"You did what?" he said so loud a woman wearing an appliqu?d sweatshirt gave us the stank eye.
"Sssh." I wrapped my arm through his so that we could talk without everyone gawking. "Look, you've been acting weird: tired, distracted, grumpy, and you're forgetting things. I Googled. PTSD came up. You probably need counseling." He gave me his you-are-an-insane-woman look. "Z, I love you. I'll guard you and stand beside you for the rest of my life. But you gotta quit Googling health related stuff. Especially health-related stuff about me."
"I just like to be well informed."
"You like to scare the crap out of yourself Googling bizarre health stuff."
"So?"
He grinned at me, and this time he did look cocky and cute. "So you admit it."
"Not necessarily," I said, elbowing him. I didn't get to say anything else because just then I was enveloped in what felt like a mini Oklahoma tornado.
"Zoey! Ohmygoodness, it's so good to see you! I missed you like crazy! Are you okay? It's awful 'bout Jack, ain't it?" Stevie Rae was hugging me and crying and talking all at the same time. "Oh, Stevie Rae, I've missed you, too!" And then I was bawling along with her and we just stood there holding tight to each other like touch could somehow make everything that was crazy and wrong in our world better.
Over Stevie Rae's shoulder I saw Stark standing there, smiling at us. He was pulling out the little travel pack of Kleenex that he kept in his jeans' pocket ever since he'd gotten back from the Otherworld, and I thought that maybe, just maybe, touch added to love might make almost everything better in our world.
"Come on," I said to Stevie Rae as we took the tissues from Stark and the three of us walked arm-in-arm through the giant revolving door that spewed us out into a cold Tulsa night. "Let's go home, and on the way there you can tell me all about the giant, stinking pile of bullpoopie that's waiting for me."
"Language, u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya."
"Grandma!" I unhooked myself from Stevie Rae and Stark and ran into her arms. I hugged her tightly, letting love and the soothing scent of lavender surround me. "Oh, Grandma, I'm so glad you're here!"
"U-we-tsi-a-ge-ya, daughter, let me look at your face." Grandma held me at arm's length, her hands on my shoulders, while she studied my face. "It is true; you are whole and well again." She closed her eyes and squeezed my shoulders, murmuring, "Thank the Great Mother for that." Then we were hugging and laughing at the same time.
"How did you know I'd be here?" I asked when I was finally able to stop hugging her.
"Did your super cool Spidey Senses tell you?" Stevie Rae asked as she stepped up and hugged Grandma hello.
"No," she said, turning her attention from Stevie Rae to Stark, who was gazing down at her.
"Something much more mundane." She smiled seraphically. "Or I suppose I should say someone much more mundane, although I am not at all sure mundane is a good word to use when referring to this valiant Warrior." "Stark? You called my grandma?"
He shot me his cocky grin and said, "Yeah, I like having an excuse to call another beautiful woman named Redbird."
"Come here, you charmer," Grandma said.
I shook my head as Stark hugged Grandma carefully, like he wasn't sure if she'd break or not. He'd called my grandma and told her when our plane was landing. Stark's eyes met mine over Grandma's shoulder. Thank you, I mouthed silently to him. His grin got bigger.
Then Grandma was there at my side again, taking my hand. "Hey, why don't Stevie Rae and I go get the car while you and your grandma talk?"
I barely had time to nod yes, and the two of them were gone, leaving Grandma and me to find a bench positioned conveniently close by. We sat for a second without saying anything. We just held hands and looked at each other. I didn't realize I was crying until Grandma delicately wiped the tears from my face.
"I knew you'd return to us," she said.
"I'm sorry I worried you. I'm sorry that I didn't--"
"Ssh," Grandma shushed me. "There is no need for apologies. You did your best, and your best has always been good enough for me."
"I was weak, Grandma. I'm still weak," I said honestly.
"No, u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya, you are young, that is all." She touched my face gently. "I am sorry about your Heath. I will miss that young man."
"I will, too," I said, blinking hard so I wouldn't start crying again.
"But I feel you two will know one another again. Perhaps in this lifetime, perhaps in the next."
I nodded. "That's what Heath said, too, before he moved on to the next realm of the Otherworld." Grandma's smile was serene. "The Otherworld--I know that it was under heartbreaking circumstances, but you were given a great gift when you were allowed to travel there and back."
Her words made me think--really think. Since I'd returned to the real world I'd been tired and sad and confused and then, finally, with Stark I'd been content and in love. "But I haven't been thankful," I said the words aloud as I realized them. "I haven't understood the gift I'd been given." I wanted to smack myself in the head. "I'm a crappy High Priestess, Grandma."
Grandma laughed. "Oh, Zoeybird, if that were true you would not question yourself or call yourself to task for your mistakes."
I snorted. "I don't think High Priestesses are supposed to make mistakes."
"Of course they are. How else would they learn and grow?"
I started to say that I'd made enough mistakes that I should have grown to be, like, a zillion feet tall, but I knew that wasn't what Grandma meant. I sighed and said, "I have a bunch of faults."
"It is a wise woman who recognizes that." Sadness made her smile fade. "It is one of the key differences between you and your mother."
"My mother." I sighed again. "I've been thinking about her lately."
"As have I. Linda has been close to my mind during the past several days."
I raised my brows at Grandma. Usually when someone was "close to her mind" it meant something was going on with that person. "Have you heard from her?"
"No, but I believe I soon will. Hold good thoughts for her, u-we-tsi-a-ge- ya."
"I will," I said.
My Bug puttered up then, looking familiar and cute with its shiny aqua blue paint and sparkly chrome. "Best be getting back to your school, Zoeybird. You'll be needed there tonight," she said in her nononsense-Grandma-voice.
We stood and hugged again. I had to make myself let go of her. "Are you staying in Tulsa tonight, Grandma?"
"Oh, no, honey. I have too much to do. There's a big powwow in Tahlequah tomorrow and I've made lovely new lavender sachets." She smiled at me. "I beaded redbirds into them."
I grinned and hugged her one last time. "Save one for me, okay?"
"Always," she said. "I love you, u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya."
"I love you, too," I said.
And then I watched as Stark jumped out of the Bug and took Grandma's arm, helping her cross the busy street between the airport arrivals terminal and short-term parking. He jogged back to me, dodging cars. When he opened the door of the car for me I paused, pressed my hand to his chest, and tugged at his shirt until he bent down so I could kiss him.
"You're the best Warrior in the world," I whispered against his lips.
"Aye," he said, eyes sparkling.
Scrunching myself into the back of my Bug I met Stevie Rae's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Thanks for giving me some alone time with my grandma."
"Not a problem, Z. I heart me your grandma."
"Yeah, me too," I said softly. Then I straightened my shoulders and, feeling totally empowered, continued, "Okay. So. Tell me about the bullpoopie I'm getting ready to step into back at school."
"Hold on to your horses 'cause it really is one redhot mess," Stevie Rae said as she signaled and pulled away from the curb.
"You don't even like horses," I said. "Exactly," she said, which made absolutely no sense, but also made me laugh. Yep, hot mess of bullpoopie or not, I was seriously glad to be home.
"I still can't believe the High Council could be that na?ve," I said for what felt like the gazillionth time as Stevie Rae helped me decide on what outfit I was gonna wear to light Jack's funeral pyre. I shuddered.
Without knocking, Aphrodite breezed into the room. She took one look at the black, long-sleeved, high-necked sweater and black jeans I was holding up and said, "Oh, for shit's sake. You can't wear that. You're lighting the funeral pyre of a gay. Do you know how mortified Jack would be if he saw you in that, not to mention Damien? It looks like an early 1990s Anita Blake reject outfit."
"Who's Anita Blake?" Stevie Rae asked.
"Vampire killer chick written by a human chick who has a Totally Tragic fashion sense." Aphrodite was wearing a skintight sapphire-colored dress that was a little shimmery, but not so much so that it looked like one of those prom rejects from David's Bridal.
Actually, she looked gorgeous and classy like she usually does. Probably because Victoria, her personal shopper at super posh Miss Jackson's at Utica Square, had pulled the dang thing for her as soon as it came in and charged her mommy's platinum credit card. Sigh. It kinda made my head hurt.
Anyway, she marched over to my closet, opened it, and after one disdainful look at my wardrobe took out the dress she'd given me the night I'd gone to my first Dark Daughters' Ritual. It was black, longsleeved, and (unlike the sweater and jeans) flattering. It was also trimmed around the low, round neckline, the flowy sleeves, and the hem with little red glass beads that sparkled whenever I moved and matched perfectly the Leader of the Dark Daughters triple moon that rested around my neck. I met her eyes. "This dress doesn't have such nice memories attached to it," I said. "Yeah, well, it looks good on you. It's appropriate. And, most important, Jack would totally love it. Plus, according to my mother, memories change like people do, especially if there's enough alcohol involved."
"Look, Aphrodite, do not tell me you are gonna be drinkin' tonight. That's just not appropriate," Stevie Rae said.
"No, bumpkin. Or at least not until afterward." She tossed the dress at me. "Now put this on and hurry up. The Twins and Darius are bringing Damien up here so we can all walk out to the pyre together--a show of nerd herd solidarity and all, which I believe is a good decision," she added quickly when Stevie Rae sucked in air and opened her mouth to interrupt. "Oh, and hi. It's good to see you and your hypochondriac boyfriend back in the real world."
"Fine. I'll wear this." I ducked into our bathroom, then popped my head out and met Aphrodite cool blue eyes. "Oh, and Stark is my Guardian and Warrior first, my boyfriend second. And he is darn sure not a hypochondriac. You know that. You saw what happened to him."
"Huh," Aphrodite scoffed under her breath.
I ignored the rude sound but kept the door open so I could still talk to them while I got dressed. When I saw the seer stone I paused, and decided to let it hang down beneath the top of the dress--no way did I feel like answering questions about Skye and Sgiach tonight. I combed my hair quickly and said,
"Hey, do you guys think Neferet's letting me light the pyre because she expects me to mess it up?" Hell, I expected to mess it up, why wouldn't she?
"Well, I think her plan's much more nefarious than you fumbling around with some words 'cause you're bawling, 'cause you actually cared 'bout Jack," Stevie Rae said.
"Nef what?" said Shaunee as she, too, walked right into my room without so much as a howdy do.
"Arious who?" chimed in Erin. "What's she doing, Twin? Tryin' to pick up the Damien vocab slack?" "Totally sounds like it, Twin," Shaunee replied.
"I like words, and you two can go suck a lemon," Stevie Rae said.
Aphrodite started to laugh and then covered it with a cough when I left the bathroom and glared at all of them. "We're getting ready to go to a funeral. I think we should show a little more respect for Jack, being as he was our friend and all."
The Twins instantly looked contrite. They came over to me and each gave me a hug, mumbling his and glad you're backs.
"Z has a point about bein' more serious, and not just 'cause it's Jack's funeral and that's real terrible. We all know there's no way Neferet has suddenly decided to do the right thing and respect Zoey and her powers," Stevie Rae said.
"We need to be on our guard," I agreed. "Stay close to me. Be ready. If I have to cast a protective circle, I don't imagine I'll have much time to do it."
"Why don't you cast one to begin with?" Aphrodite said.
"I was gonna, but I looked up stuff about a vampyre funeral, and the High Priestess usually doesn't cast one. It's her job, well, uh, I mean my job tonight, to stand as respectful witness to the loss of a fellow vampyre, and to help send the vampyre's spirit to Nyx's Otherworld. There's no circle casting involved in that, just prayers to Nyx and such."
"You should be good at that, Z, since you just got back from the Otherworld," Stevie Rae said.
"I just hope I do Jack proud." I felt the tears start to sting my eyes and I blinked hard, forcing them back. The last thing any of my friends needed was for me to be a bawling, snotting mess tonight.
"So none of you have any idea what Neferet's up to?" I asked them.
There was a bunch of head shaking, and Aphrodite said, "All I can think is that she's going to somehow try to humiliate you, but I don't see how that can happen if you stay calm and strong and focus on why we're all here tonight."
"For Jack," Shaunee said.
"To say bye to him," Erin said, her voice shaking a little.
"Well, that's nice and all," Stevie Rae said, and we looked at her. "But I think funerals, no matter what they're like, are mostly for the people left behind, like Damien."
"That's a really good point, Stevie Rae." I smiled at her in gratitude. "I'll remember that." Stevie Rae cleared her voice. "I know because I saw my mama today, and she was kinda holdin' a mini funeral for me. It was her way of tryin' to find closure."
I had a moment of intense shock while the Twins exploded with "Ohmygoddess, how awful!"
"She came here?" Aphrodite asked. I was surprised at how kind her voice sounded.
Stevie Rae nodded. "She was out by the front gate leavin' me a funeral wreath, but really what she was doin' was what Damien is gonna try to do tonight: saying goodbye."
"You talked to her, didn't you?" I said. "I mean, she knows you're not dead anymore, right?"
Stevie Rae smiled, even though her eyes still looked super sad. "Yeah, but it made me feel awful that I hadn't gone to her first. It was terrible to see her cry so much."
I went to my BFF and hugged her. "Well, at least she knows now."
"And at least you have a mom who cares enough to cry about you," Aphrodite said.
I met Aphrodite's gaze with complete understanding. "Yeah, that's true." "Y'all please, your mamas would be crying if something happened to you," Stevie Rae said.
"Mine would in public because it's expected of her, and because she'd be so prescription-med-ed up that she could work up a tear over just about anything," Aphrodite said blandly.
"Well, I guess mine would cry, too, but it'd be all about how could she have done this to me and now she's going straight to hell and it's all her fault." I paused and then added, "My grandma would say it's too bad that my mom doesn't understand that there's more than just one right answer about forever." I smiled at my friends. "I know 'cause I've been there and it's wonderful. Really, really wonderful."
"Jack's there, isn't he? Safe, in the Otherworld, with the Goddess?"
We all looked up to see Damien standing in the doorway that the Twins had left open. Darius was on one side of him and Stark was on the other. Damien looked absolutely horrible, even though he was dressed immaculately in Armani. He was so pale it seemed I could see through his skin, and the shadows under his eyes looked like bruises. I walked over to him and took him into my arms. He felt thin and frail and totally un-Damien-like.
"Yes. He is with Nyx. I give you my word on that as one of her High Priestesses." I hugged him and whispered, "I am so sorry, Damien."
Damien returned my hug and then, with an effort, stepped back. He wasn't crying. Instead he looked drained--empty--hopeless.
"I'm ready to go, and I'm really glad you're here."
"So am I. I wish I'd been here before." I felt tears start to threaten again. "Maybe I could have--"
"No, you couldn't have," Aphrodite said, stepping up to stand beside me. Again, her voice was softened with understanding and she sounded way older than nineteen. "You couldn't stop Heath's death. You wouldn't have been able to stop Jack's." My eyes briefly met Stark's and I saw in his gaze a reflection of what I was thinking--that I'd stopped his death. Even if it meant he had nightmares and still wasn't one hundred percent, at least he was alive.
"Seriously, stop it, Z," Aphrodite said. "All of you--don't start the self- blame game. The only one responsible for Jack being dead is Neferet. We know that, even if no one else does."
"I can't deal with that right now," Damien said, and for a second I thought he might actually faint. "Do we have to face down Neferet tonight?"
"No," I said quickly. "I'm not planning anything like that."
"But we can't control what she'll do," Aphrodite said.
"Stark and I will stay close. The rest of you be sure you're near Zoey and Damien. We won't begin anything, but if Neferet attempts to harm any of us, we will be ready."
"I've seen her in front of the Council. I don't think she's gonna do anything as obvious as attackin' Z," Stevie Rae said.
"Whatever she does, we'll be ready," Stark echoed Darius's words.
"I won't be ready," Damien said. "I don't think I'll ever be able to fight anything again."
I took Damien's hand in mine. "Well, tonight you won't have to. If there's a battle to be fought, your friends will do it. Now let's go see to Jack." Damien drew in a long, shaky breath, nodded, and we left my room. Still holding Damien's hand, I led the group down the stairs and out into the common room, which was completely empty. I mentally sent a small prayer up to the Goddess:
Please let everyone already be out there--please let Damien know how much Jack was loved.
We walked down the sidewalk that led around the front part of the school. I knew where we were going. I remembered all too well that Anastasia's pyre had been placed in the center of the school grounds, directly in front of Nyx's Temple.
As we moved along the sidewalk in silence a small sound caught me and I glanced at a bench that rested under a redbud tree near the front of the school. Erik was sitting there, alone. His face was in his hands and the sound I'd heard was his crying.
