Betrayed Read online

  "Whatever, Miss Lucky Charms," I said, pushing her out the door.

  "Hey, Lucky Charms are good for you.”

  "Really? So, tell me, what are marshmallows—a fruit or a veg­etable?”

  "Both. They're unique—like me.”

  I was laughing at silly Stevie Rae and feeling better than I had all day when we trotted down the stairs and into the front area of the dorm. The Twins and Damien had staked out one of the big flat-screen TVs, and they waved us over. I could see Stevie Rae had been right, they were munching on real Doritos and dipping them in full-fatted green onion dip (it sounds gross, but it's really yummy). My good feeling got even better when Damien handed me a big glass of brown pop.

  "Took you guys long enough," he said, scooting over so that we could sit by him on the couch. The Twins, naturally, had com­mandeered two identically big chairs they'd pulled over by the couch.

  "Sorry," Stevie Rae said, and then added with a grin at Erin, "I had to have a bowel movement.”

  "Excellent use of proper descriptions, Stevie Rae," Erin said, looking pleased.

  "Ugh, just put in the movie," Damien said.

  "Hang on, I have the remote," Erin said.

  "Wait!" I told her right before she clicked play. The volume had been turned down, but I could see Fox News 23's Chera Kimiko. Her face looked sad and serious as she talked earnestly into the camera. At the bottom of the screen ran the blurb body of teenager found. "Turn up the volume." Shaunee clicked off the mute.

  "Repeating our lead story this morning: the body of the missing Union running back, Chris Ford, was discovered by two kayakers late Friday afternoon. The body had become snagged in the rocks and sand barges used to dam the Twenty-first Street area of the Arkansas River to create the new recreational rapids. Sources tell us that the teenager died of loss of blood associated with multiple lacer­ations, and that he might have been mauled by a large animal. We'll have more on that for you after the official medical exam­iner's report is released.”

  My stomach, which had finally settled down and was acting normal, clenched. I felt my body go cold. But the bad news wasn't over. Chera's beautiful brown eyes looked earnestly into the cam­era as she continued.

  "On the heels of this tragic news comes the report of another Union football player who has been listed as missing." The screen flashed a picture of another cute guy in Union's traditional red and white football uniform. "Brad Higeons was last seen after school Friday at the Starbucks at Utica Square where he was post­ing pictures of Chris. Brad was not only Chris's teammate, he was also his cousin.”

  "Ohmygoodness! The Union football team is dropping like flies," Stevie Rae said. She glanced at me and I saw her eyes widen. "Zoey, are you okay? You don't look so good.”

  "I knew him, too.”

  "That's weird," Damien said.

  "The two of them were always at parties together. Everyone knew them because they're cousins, even though Chris is black and Brad is white.”

  "Makes perfect sense to me," Shaunee said.

  "Ditto, Twin," Erin said.

  I could barely hear them through the buzzing in my ears. "I .. . I need to go for a walk.”

  "I'll go with you," Stevie Rae said.

  "No, you stay here and watch the movie. I just—I just need to get some air.”

  "Are you sure?”

  "Positive. I won't be gone long. I'll be back in time to see Ewan's butt." Even though I could almost feel the worried look Stevie Rae was giving my back (and hear the Twins arguing with Damien about whether they would actually see Ewan's butt), I rushed out of the dorm and into the cool November night.

  Blindly, I turned away from the main school building, instinc­tively moving in the opposite direction from anywhere I'd run into people. I forced myself to keep moving and to breathe. What the hell was wrong with me? chest felt tight and my stomach was so sick I had to keep swallowing hard so I wouldn't puke. The buzzing in my ears seemed to be better, but there was no relief from the anxiety that had settled over me like a shroud. Every­thing inside me was screaming, Something's not right! Some­thing's not right! Something's not right!

  As I walked I gradually noticed that the night, which had been clear, with a sky full of stars helping the almost full moon to illu­minate its thick darkness, suddenly had clouded up. The soft, cool breeze had turned cold, causing dry leaves to shower down around me, mixing the smells of earth and wind with the darkness .. . somehow this soothed me and the tumult of disjointed thoughts and anxiety lifted enough for me to actually think.

  I headed to the stables. Lenobia had said that I could groom Persephone whenever I needed to think and be alone. I definitely needed that, and having a direction to go—an actual destination—was one small good thing in the midst of my internal chaos.

  The stables were just ahead, sprawling long and low, and my breath had started to come a little easier when I heard the sound. At first I didn't know what it was. It was too muffled—too odd. Then I thought that it might be Nala. It was like her to follow me and complain at me in her weird old lady cat voice until I stopped and picked her up. I looked around and called "Kitty-kitty" softly.

  The sound got more distinct, but it wasn't a cat, I could tell that. A movement close to the barn caught my eye, and I saw that a shape was slumped on the bench near the front doors. There was only one gaslight there, and it was right beside the doors. The bench was just outside the edge of the pool of flickering yellow light.

  It moved again, and I could tell that the shape must be a person ... or fledgling … or vampyre. It was sitting, but kinda hunched over, almost folded in on itself. The sound started again. This close I could hear that it was a weird wailing—like whoever was sitting there was in pain.

  Naturally, I wanted to run in the opposite direction, but I couldn't. It wouldn't be right. Plus, I felt it—the knowledge within me that I could not leave. That whatever was happening on the bench was something I had to face.

  I took a deep breath and approached the bench.

  "Uh, are you okay?”

  "No!" The word was an eerie, whispering explosion of sound.

  "Can—can I help you?" I asked, trying to peer into the shad­ows and see who was sitting there. I thought I could see light-colored hair, and maybe hands covering a face .. .

  "The water! The water is so cold and deep. Can't get out .. . can't get out.”

  She took her hands from her face then and looked up at me, but I already knew who it was. I'd recognized her voice. And I also recognized what was happening to her. I forced myself to ap­proach her calmly. She stared up at me. Her face was covered with tears.

  "Come on, Aphrodite. You're having a vision. I need to get you to Neferet.”

  "No!" she gasped. "No! Don't take me to her. She won't listen to me. She—she doesn't believe me anymore.”

  I remembered what Neferet had said earlier about Nyx with­drawing her gifts from Aphrodite. Why should I even mess with her at all? Who knew what was going on with Aphrodite? She was probably making some pathetic play for attention, and I didn't have time for this crap.

  "Fine. Let's say I don't believe you either," I told her. "Stay here and have your vision or whatever. I have other things to worry about." I turned to head into the stable, and her hand snaked out, grabbing my wrist.

  "You have to stay!" she said through chattering teeth. Obvi­ously, she was having difficulty talking. "You have to hear the vi­sion!”

  "No, I do not.” I pried her viselike fingers from my wrist. "Whatever's going on, it's about you—not me. You deal with it." This time when I turned I walked away more quickly.

  But not quick enough. Her next words felt like she'd sliced them through me.

  "You have to listen to me. If you don't your grandma will die.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  "What in the hell are you talking about!" I rounded on her.

  She was gasping in weird little panting breaths, and her eyes were starting to flutter. Even in the darkness I coul
d see the whites in them beginning to show. I grabbed her shoulders and shook her.

  "Tell me what you see!”

  Clearly trying to control herself she nodded with a jerky little movement. "I will,” she panted. "Just stay with me “

  I sat beside her on the bench and let her grab my hand, not caring that she was squeezing so hard it felt like she was going to break something—not caring that she was my enemy and some­one I'd never trust—not caring about anything except the fact that Grandma might be in trouble.

  "I'm not going anywhere,” I said grimly. Then I remembered how Neferet had prompted her. "Tell me what you see, Aphrodite.”

  "Water! It's awful … so brown and so cold. It's all confusion .. . can't—can't get the door of the Saturn open ...”

  I felt a horrible jolt. Grandma has a Saturn! She bought it be­cause it was one of those ultra-safe cars that were supposed to be able to survive anything.

  "But where's the car, Aphrodite? What water is it in?"

  "Arkansas River," she panted. "The bridge—it collapsed.”

  Aphrodite sobbed, sounding terrified. "I saw the car in front of me fall and hit the barge. It's on fire! Those little boys … the ones who were trying to get truck drivers to honk as they passed .. . they're in the car.”

  I swallowed hard. "Okay, what bridge? When?”

  Aphrodite's whole body suddenly tensed. "I can't get out! I can't get out! The water, it's …" She made a horrible noise that I swear sounded like she was being choked, and then she slumped back against the bench, her hand going limp in mine.

  "Aphrodite!" I shook her. "You have to wake up. You have to tell me more about what you saw!”

  Slowly, her eyelids moved. This time I didn't see the whites of her rolled back eyeballs, and when she opened them they looked like normal eyes. Aphrodite abruptly let go of my hand and shak­ily pushed her hair out of her face. I noticed it was damp, and that she was covered with sweat. She blinked a couple more times be­fore meeting my eyes. Her gaze was steady, but I couldn't read anything except exhaustion in her expression or her voice.

  "Good, you stayed," she said.

  "Tell me what you saw. What happened to my grandma?"

  "The bridge her car's on collapses and she crashes into the river and drowns," she said flatly.

  "No. No, that won't happen. Tell me what bridge. When. How. I'll stop it.”

  Aphrodite's lips curled up in the hint of a smile. "Oh, you mean you suddenly believe my visions?”

  Fear for Grandma was like a boiling pain inside me. I grabbed her arm and stood up, pulling her up with me. "Let's go.”

  She tried to jerk away from me, but she was too weak, I held on to her easily. "Where?”

  "To Neferet, of course. She'll figure this crap out, and you'll damn sure talk to her.”

  "No!" she almost screamed. "I won't tell her. I swear I won't. No matter what, I'll say I don't remember anything except water and a bridge.”

  "Neferet will get this out of you.”

  "No she won't! She'll be able to tell that I'm lying, that I'm hid­ing something, but she won't be able to tell what. If you take me to her, your grandma will die.”

  I felt so sick I'd started to tremble. "What do you want, Aphrodite? Do you want to be leader of the Dark Daughters again? Fine. Take it back. Just tell me about my grandma.”

  A look of raw pain passed over Aphrodite's pale face. "You can't give it back to me, Neferet has to.”

  "Then what do you want?”

  "I just want you to listen to me so that you know that Nyx hasn't abandoned me. I want you to believe that my visions are still real." She stared into my eyes. Her voice was low and strained. "And I want you to owe me. Someday you're going to be a power­ful High Priestess, more powerful even than Neferet. Someday I may need protection, and that's when you owing me will come in handy.”

  I wanted to say that there was no way I could protect her from Neferet. Not now—maybe not ever. And I wouldn't want to. Aphrodite was messed up, and I'd already witnessed how selfish and hateful she could be. I didn't want to owe her; I didn't want anything to do with her.

  I also didn't have any choice.

  "Fine. I won't take you to Neferet. Now what did you see?”

  "First give me your word that you owe me. And remember, this isn't an empty human promise. When vampyres give their word—be they fledgling or adult—it is binding.”

  "If you tell me how to save my grandma I give you my word that I will owe you a favor.”

  "Of my choice," she said slyly.

  "Yeah, whatever.”

  "You have to say it to complete the oath.”

  "If you tell me how to save my grandma I give you my word that I will owe you a favor of your choice.”

  "So it is spoken; so it shall be done," she whispered. Her voice sent chills up my back, which I ignored.

  "Tell me.”

  "I have to sit down first," she said. Suddenly shaky again, she collapsed onto the bench.

  I sat beside her and waited impatiently while she collected her­self. When she started to talk I felt the stark horror of what she was saying pass through me, and I knew deep within my soul that what she was telling was a true vision. If Nyx was pissed at Aphrodite, the Goddess wasn't showing it tonight.

  "This afternoon your grandma will be on the Muskogee Turnpike on her way to Tulsa." She paused and cocked her head to the side, like she was listening in the wind for something. "Your birthday's next month. She's coming into town to get you a present.”

  I felt a jolt of surprise. Aphrodite was right. My birthday was in December—I had a sucky December twenty-fourth birthday, so I never got to really celebrate it. Everyone always wanted to mush it in with Christmas. Even last year, when I was turning six­teen and I should have had a big, cool party, I didn't get to do anything special. It was really annoying ... I shook myself. Now was not the time to get lost in my lifelong birthday complaint.

  "Okay, so she's coming into town this afternoon, and what happens?”

  Aphrodite narrowed her eyes, like she was trying to see out into the darkness. "It's weird. I can usually tell exactly why these accidents happen—like a plane doesn't work or whatever, but this time I was so tuned in to your grandma, that I'm not sure why the bridge breaks." She glanced at me. "That might be be­cause this is the first vision I've ever had where someone I recog­nize dies. It threw me off.”

  "She's not going to die," I said firmly.

  "Then she can't be on that bridge. I remember the clock on her car's dashboard said three fifteen, so I'm sure it happens in the afternoon.”

  Automatically, I glanced at my watch-6:10 A.M. It'd be light in the next hour (and I should be going to bed), which meant that Grandma would be waking up. I knew her schedule. She woke up around dawn and went for a walk in the soft morning light. Then she came back to her cozy cabin and had a light breakfast before beginning whatever work to be to on her farm. I'd call her and tell her to stay home, that she shouldn't even take a chance on driving anywhere today. She'd be safe; I'd make sure of it. Then another thought tickled at my mind. I looked at Aphrodite.

  "But what about the other people? I remember you said some­thing about some kids in the car in front of you, and that car crashed and caught on fire.”

  "Yeah.”

  I frowned at her. "Yeah, what?”

  "Yeah, I was watching from your grandma's point of view and I saw a bunch of other cars crashing around me. It happened fast, though, so I couldn't really tell how many.”

  She didn't say anything else, and I shook my head in disgust. "What about saving them? You said little boys died!”

  Aphrodite shrugged. "I told you my vision was confusing. I couldn't tell exactly where it was, and the only reason I knew when is because I saw the date and time on your grandma's dash.”

  "So you're just going to let the rest of those people die?”

  "What do you care? Your grandma's going to be okay.”

  "You make me sick, Aphrodi
te. Do you care about anyone but yourself?”

  "Whatever, Zoey. Like you're so perfect? I didn't hear you car­ing about anyone else except your grandma.”

  "Of course I was worried about her the most! I love her! But I don't want anyone else to die, either. And no one else is going to if I have anything to say about it. So, you need to figure out some way to let me know which bridge we're talking about.”

  "I already told you—it's on the Muskogee Turnpike. I can't tell which one.”

  "Think harder! What else did you see?”

  She sighed and closed her eyes. I watched her face as her brow wrinkled and she seemed to cringe. With her eyes still closed she said, "Wait, no. It's not on the turnpike. I saw a sign. It's the I-40 bridge over the Arkansas River—the one that's right off the turn­pike near Webber's Falls." Then she opened her eyes. "You know when and where. I can't tell you much more. I think some kind of flat boat, like a barge, hits the bridge, but that's all I know. I didn't see anything to identify the boat. So, how are you going to stop it?”

  "I don't know, but I will," I muttered.

  "Well, while you're thinking about how to save the world, I'm going to go back to the dorm and do my nails. Raggedy nails are something I consider tragic.”

  "You know, having crappy parents isn't an excuse to be heart­less,” I said. She'd turned away and I saw her pause. Her back got really straight and when she looked over her shoulder at me I could see that her eyes were narrowed in anger.

  "What would you know about it?”

  "About your parents? Not much except that they're controlling and your mom's a nightmare. About screwed-up parents in gen­eral? Plenty. I've been living with pain-in-the-ass parent issues since my mom remarried three years ago. It sucks, but it's not an excuse to be a bitch.”

  "Try eighteen years of a lot more than just 'pain-in-the-ass parent issues' and maybe you'll start to get something about it. Until then, you don't know shit." Then, like the old Aphrodite I knew and couldn't stand, she flipped her hair and stalked away, wiggling her narrow butt like I cared.

  "Issues. The girl has major issues." I sat down on the bench and began rummaging through my purse for my cell phone, glad I carried it around with me even though I'd been forced to keep it on silent, without vibrate on. The reason could be summed up in one word—Heath. He was my human almost-ex-boyfriend, and since he and my definitely ex-best friend, Kayla, had tried to "break me out" (that's actually what they'd said—morons) of the House of Night, Heath had been way over the top on his obsession level for me. Of course, that wasn't really his fault. I was the one who had tasted his blood and started the whole Imprint thing with him, but still. Anyway, even though his messages had dwindled down from like a zillion (meaning twenty or so) a day, to two or three, I still didn't feel like leaving my phone on and being bothered by him. And, sure enough, when I flipped it open there were two missed calls, both from Heath. No messages, though, so hopefully he's demonstrating the ability to learn.