“They are dead,” he said without taking his eyes off the road.
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
He glanced at her, his lips lifting slightly. “It was a long time ago. My father was born in 1902. My mother was born in 1910. They were good people. They didn’t understand what was happening when I was Marked, and I only saw them twice afterward. The world was different then—smaller. Simpler.”
“Holy crap. When were you born?” Aphrodite stared at her lover and mate. He looked like he was, maybe, twenty-five at the oldest.
“1929. It was a very good year.”
“Oh, good Goddess! You’re eighty-eight!”
Hi smile widened to a grin. “I am.”
“Good thing I’ve always like older men,” she said.
“Good thing,” he agreed.
“Hey. I should have asked you about your parents before now. Darius, I am sorry I can be so selfish. I’ll work on it.”
“I believe in your goodness, and your goodness is greater than your selfishness, my beauty.”
“I’m real glad you think so.”
“I know so.”
Darius glanced at the clock on the dash, which read 6:22 a.m. “Sunrise is in about an hour. Do you want me to stay here with you, or come back and pick you up?”
“Neither. I need to see Mother alone. I’ll wait until sunrise, then I’ll walk back to the school.” Before he could argue with her, Aphrodite barreled on. “No! I’ll be fine. Other Jack said his people are even more sensitive to the sun than our red vamps. They won’t get me. Plus, you know I have this.” She lifted the Taser from her silver-studded Saint Laurent bucket purse.
Darius snorted.
“All you need to focus on is getting rid of the bad guys.” She pointed to her scarf, which was still wrapped around his bicep. “And remember, only other people’s blood gets on that.”
Darius pulled into the St. John’s ER entrance and turned to her. “Are you sure you do not want me to be with you?”
“I’m sure. Are you sure you’re going to stay safe out there?”
“I am sure.”
She’d already unclicked her seatbelt, so he reached over and easily pulled her from her seat into his arms so that he could kiss her thoroughly. She wrapped her arms around him and held on, kissing him passionately.
“Do not let her hurt your feelings too much,” he said as they parted.
“I’ll do my best. Don’t you let anyone hurt you at all.”
“And I shall do my best, as well. Be well, my beauty, and know you carry my heart with you. Always.”
“I will. And I love you, too.”
Aphrodite closed the door to the SUV firmly, and then ducked her head against the onslaught of wind and snow, and trudged into the ER. She paused before she made her way to the nurses’ station, stomping the snow off her Sorel snow boots. She looked around to be sure no one was watching her before she slid her hand into the pouch of her purse and quickly took two Xanax from the ever-present bottle, swallowing them dry.
“There. That’s better. And now that I’m girded for battle …” She approached the nurses’ station. “Hi, I’m Aphrodite LaFont. My mother is Frances LaFont. I’d like to see her, please.”
“ID?” Aphrodite showed it to her and the nurse nodded and tapped her mom’s name into the computer. “She’s been moved from the ER to the ICU. That’s odd. Her wound wasn’t that serious.” The nurse’s brow furrowed as she read the comments on the screen. “Miss LaFont, I can page Dr. Ruffing for you.”
“No, that’s okay. I know her prognosis. Does Mother?”
The nurse read the notes silently for a few more breaths before saying, “No. It looks as if Dr. Ruffing was waiting for family to get here to tell her the worst of it. She is in isolation, though, due to the contagious nature of her wound.”
“So she doesn’t have a clue why she’s isolated or in the ICU?”
“I’m not certain. As I said, I can page the doctor.”
“No, don’t bother. I won’t stay long. But if I need him I’ll have them page from upstairs. What floor is the ICU on?”
“Third floor. You must stop at the nurses’ station, but your mother is in room 820.”
“Will do.” Resolutely, Aphrodite headed into the elevator. The hospital was eerily quiet for such a blizzardy day. “Guess the action won’t pick up until after the Okies wake up and try to take their trucks to Albertsons to get them some disaster supplies—yuck, yuck.” She quipped in a really bad Okie accent. Then the doors opened to the antiseptic scent of the ICU. Aphrodite lifted her chin and marched to the nurses’ station. “Hi. I’m Aphrodite LaFont, Frances LaFont’s daughter. The ER nurse told me she’d been transferred up here.” Aphrodite held out her ID for the nurse to check.
“Yes, Miss LaFont. Your mother is in room 820, but she is under isolation protocol. No human is allowed to see her alone. I can page the doctor, or a security guard to accompany you.”
“Nope, that won’t be necessary. I’m not human.” When the nurse gave her a disbelieving look, Aphrodite stifled an eye roll. “Seriously. I used to be a fledgling. Then I became Nyx’s prophetess. It was in all the papers when my Dad was killed about a year ago. Remember?” She started to pull her phone from her purse. “I can Google the Tulsa World article if you want.”
The nurse’s eyes widened as she stared at Aphrodite. “Oh, that’s right. I remember now. No, the article won’t be necessary. Are you certain you can’t be infected? You don’t have any Mark on you, fledgling or vampyre.”
“Yeah, I know. And yeah, I’m sure. I don’t look it, but I’m not human. May I go into my mother’s room now?”
“Yes, but perhaps you should prepare yourself. She isn’t being very …” the nurse paused, chewed her cheek, and then finished, “pleasant.”
“My mother has never been very pleasant. I’m used to it. Thanks.”
Aphrodite found room 820 easily. It had a big orange biohazard—infectious sign on it that was impossible to miss. She knocked on the door twice.
“Yes, yes—come in,” her mother said irritably. “I hope you have my nightgown and my overnight bag. And do not tell me again that it is snowing too hard to drive. Get one of your CNA mo-mos to walk there. My housekeeper lives in the carriage house. She knows where my emergency overnight bag is kept and she can—” Her mother’s tirade halted when she looked up from the hand mirror she was using to study the bite on her shoulder. “Oh. It’s you.”