“That’s because I am sober. And there’s something you need to see. Well, you need to know about it, too, but seeing it’s important. Or at least I think it is. It really is beautiful, though I don’t know why I’d expect anything less—what with Nyx doing it and all.”
“You’re babbling. Are you sure you’re sober?”
“Positive.”
“Okay, I’m on my way back. But Marx and a big TPD mobile prison van thing they call a bus is going to beat me there. It’s supposed to be filled with passed-out red fledglings from the other world, but—”
“But they’re awake,” she said.
“How did you know that?”
“Come home and see for yourself. I’ll tuck the fledglings in. Bye.”
“Bye,” I said, staring at the phone.
“Now what?” Stark asked.
“Aphrodite is sober. And she apologized to me for being a bitch.”
“Are you sure you weren’t talking to Other Aphrodite?” Shaunee said.
“I didn’t see any other Aphrodite come through the fountain thing,” I said.
“Well, neither did I, but apologizing for being a bitch doesn’t sound like our Aphrodite.”
“And yet she just did. She also knew the fledglings were awake. She said I need to see something. Or know about something. Or both, I guess. She’s confusing me. Hell, this entire day is confusing me.”
“Let’s get home,” Stark said, and Shaunee floored it.
24
Heff
Five of the vampyres made it out alive with him. Kevin ran. He led the remnant of his squad directly to the sewer grate he’d noted earlier. With their strength, they tore off the grill-like covering and dropped below in less than the time it took their pursuers to race out of the buildings after them.
The six of them were breathing hard, gasping with panic and adrenaline. He motioned for the soldiers to move through the sewer line, away from the grate as he whispered, “Quiet. Move this way.” They followed him without question, crouching in the narrow, fetid space. Kevin was relieved that these five were coherent enough to actually follow orders—much of the Red Army’s soldiers could only be pointed in an enemy’s direction and set loose to rip and tear and bite and kill.
Kevin shuddered.
He was different. He’d always been different.
From the day his sister died—the day the dreams had started—the day he’d been Marked as the youngest red fledgling in history. And a scant two months later, the Change had altered him again—making him the youngest red vampyre in history.
Well, in his world’s history anyway.
Sounds echoed from above, mixing eerily with the whining of the wind and the drip, drip, drip of water from somewhere behind them. The six of them huddled together, waiting.
Kevin’s mind was a maelstrom of thoughts and emotions trying to sift their way through the incessant hunger and anger that shadowed his every moment since he’d picked up the phone one night and heard an emotionless voice report that his sister, Zoey Redbird, had been found dead—decapitated and nailed to a cross outside the House of Night. He’d put the phone down and turned to tell his mom the horrible news when he’d collapsed, only to struggle to his feet a moment later as his mother started screaming … over and over … pointing at the red crescent moon tattooed in the center of his forehead.
Think. Reason. You can do it. What do I know for sure?
Zoey was alive, even though he knew she was dead. The morbid pictures had been in the Tulsa World. Zo’s death was the third decapitation outside the House of Night, and the backlash from the vampyres against humans had been swift and decisive.
Neferet’s armies had been victorious. They were still victorious.
But there was no sign of Neferet or her soldiers here.
Humans and vampyres—red and blue—worked together here.
Zoey was alive. His sister was alive. She’d recognized him. She’d saved him from being fried.
The men who attacked us aren’t lying. This really isn’t my world.
“What are our orders?”
Kevin shook himself and refocused on the present. One of the soldiers was watching him closely—the red glow in his eyes present, but dim. If we stay awake, we will have to feed.
“Sleep,” Kevin told him. “I’ll stay on watch.”
“At sunset. What orders then?” the soldier asked.
“At sunset we go to the rendezvous point and meet the general,” Kevin said automatically, though he sincerely doubted the general would show.
The people of this world were on to them, and the general had fallen into their trap. Kevin would have been trapped, too, and killed, had it not been for Zoey.
“Sleep,” Kevin repeated. “Then we rendezvous and feed.”
That got through to them, and the soldiers formed a nest-like group together and slept.
Kevin struggled against that pull. It would be good—so good to curl up with the others—to share their heat and their heartbeats—to sleep mindlessly and then wake with nothing but hunger on his mind.
No. I do not want that. I do not want to lose myself. And I do not want to lose my dreams.
Adrenaline and panic gone, exhaustion took their place. Kevin walked heavily to stand closer to the grate. He had to cover his eyes and squint against the suddenly strong light of the sun, and he was careful to avoid the slatted rays that filtered down between the grate. Sounds of the men above became more distant and irregular. The street seemed to have quieted. Kevin sat and leaned his head against the cold, wet side of the sewer pipe.
What am I going to do now?
His thoughts were shifting back to Zoey and the wide-eyed look of shock that had frozen her in place before him when it happened.
It was like he had been holding his breath for too long, and all of a sudden, he was able to draw air—clean, sweet, life-giving air. He gasped aloud—and heard his gasp echoed by the five soldiers. They sat, blinking and looking around as if they had no idea where they were. Their gazes turned to him as one.
“Lieutenant?” The soldier who had spoken before was the first to say anything. “What just happened?”
The other men shook their heads and rubbed their eyes as if they’d just stepped inside out of a ferocious rainstorm.
Kevin drew a breath. And then another. “I—I’m not sure. How do you feel?” he asked the soldier.
“My name is Marc—Marc Haimes. And I feel normal. I feel absolutely normal.”