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  “Oh . . . I . . . well, good. That’s good,” I babbled.

  Thankfully, Grandma saved me from total humiliation.

  “Zoey, this is the High Priestess of the House of Night, Neferet. She’s been taking good care of you while you’ve been”—Grandma paused, obviously not wanting to say the word unconscious—“while you’ve been asleep.”

  “Welcome to the House of Night, Zoey Redbird,” Neferet said warmly.

  I glanced at Grandma and then back at Neferet. Feeling more than a little lost I stuttered, “That’s—that’s not really my name. My last name is Montgomery.”

  “Is it?” Neferet said, raising her amber-tinted brows. “One benefit of beginning a new life is that you have the opportunity to start over—to make choices you weren’t given before. If you could choose, what would your true name be?”

  I didn’t hesitate. “Zoey Redbird.”

  “Then from this moment on, you shall be Zoey Redbird. Welcome to your new life.” She reached out like she wanted to shake my hand, and I automatically offered mine. But instead of taking my hand, she grasped my forearm, which was weird but somehow felt right.

  Her touch was warm and firm. Her smile blazed with welcome. She was amazing and awe-inspiring. Actually, she was what all vampyres are, more than human—stronger, smarter, more talented. She looked like someone had turned on a blazing inner light within her, which I realize is definitely an ironic description considering the vampyre stereotypes (some of which I already knew were totally true): They avoid sunlight, they’re most powerful at night, they need to drink blood to survive (eesh!), and they worship a goddess who is known as Night personified.

  “Th-thank you. It’s nice to meet you,” I said, trying really hard to sound at least semi-intelligent and normal.

  “As I was telling your grandmother earlier, we have never had a fledgling come to us in such an unusual manner before—unconscious and with a completed Mark. Can you remember what happened to you, Zoey?”

  I opened my mouth to tell her that I totally remembered it—falling and hitting my head . . . seeing myself like I was a floating spirit . . . following the weirdly visible words into the cave . . . and finally meeting the Goddess Nyx. But right before I said the words I got a weird feeling, like someone had just hit me in my stomach. It was clear and it was specific, and it was telling me to shut up.

  “I—I really don’t remember much—” I broke off and my hand found the sore spot where my stitches poked out. “At least not after I hit my head. I mean, up until then I remember everything. The Tracker Marked me; I told my parents and got into a ginormic fight with them; then I ran away to my grandma’s place. I was feeling really sick, so when I climbed the path up to the bluffs . . .” I remembered the rest of it—all of the rest of it—the spirits of the Cherokee people, the dancing and the campfire. Shut up! the feeling screamed at me. “I—I guess I slipped because I was coughing so much, and hit my head. The next thing I remember is Grandma Redbird singing and then I woke up here.” I finished in a rush. I wanted to look away from the sharpness of her green-eyed gaze, but the same feeling that was ordering me to be quiet was also clearly telling me that I had to keep eye contact with her, that I had to try really hard to look like I wasn’t hiding anything, even though I didn’t really have a clue why I was hiding anything.

  “It’s normal to experience memory loss with a head wound.” Grandma said matter-of-factly, breaking the silence.

  I could have kissed her.

  “Yes, of course it is,” Neferet said quickly, her face losing its sharpness. “Do not fear for your granddaughter’s health, Sylvia Redbird. All will be well with her.”

  She spoke to Grandma respectfully, and some of the tension that had been building inside me loosened. If she liked Grandma Redbird, she had to be an okay person, or vampyre or whatever. Right?

  “As I’m sure you already know, vampyres”—Neferet paused and smiled at me—“even fledgling vampyres, have unusual powers of recovery. Her healing is proceeding so well that it is perfectly safe for her to leave the infirmary.” She looked from Grandma to me. “Zoey, would you like to meet your new roommate?”

  No. I swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes.”

  “Excellent!” Neferet said. Thankfully she ignored the fact that I was standing there like a smiling stupid garden gnome.

  “Are you sure you shouldn’t keep her here another day for observation?” Grandma asked.

  “I understand your concern, but I assure you Zoey’s physical wounds are already healing at a pace you would find extraordinary.”

  She smiled at me again and even though I was scared and nervous and just plain freaked out I smiled back at her. It seemed like she was genuinely happy that I was there. And, truthfully, she made me think turning into a vampyre might not be such a bad thing.

  “Grandma, I’m fine. Really. My head just hurts a little, and the rest of me feels way better.” I realized as I said it that it was true. I’d completely stopped coughing. My muscles didn’t ache anymore. I felt perfectly normal except for a little headache.

  Then Neferet did something that not only surprised me, but made me instantly like her—and begin to trust her. She walked over to Grandma and spoke slowly and carefully.

  “Sylvia Redbird, I give you my solemn oath that your granddaughter is safe here. Each fledgling is paired with an adult mentor. To ensure my oath to you I will be Zoey’s mentor. And now you must entrust her to my care.”

  Neferet placed her fist over her heart and bowed formally to Grandma. My grandma hesitated for only a moment before answering her.

  “I will hold you to your oath, Neferet, High Priestess of Nyx.” Then she mimicked Neferet’s actions by putting her own fist over her heart and bowing to her before turning to me and hugging me hard. “Call me if you need me, Zoeybird. I love you.”

  “I will, Grandma. I love you, too. And thank you for bringing me here,” I whispered, breathing in her familiar lavender scent and trying not to cry.

  She kissed me gently on my cheek and then with her quick, confident steps she walked out of the room, leaving me alone for the first time in my life with a vampyre.

  “Well, Zoey, are you ready to begin your new life?”

  I looked up at her and thought again how amazing she was. If I actually Changed into a vampyre, would I have her confidence and power, or was that something only a High Priestess got? For an instant it flashed though my mind how awesome it would be to be a High Priestess—and then my sanity returned. I was just a kid. A confused kid at that, and definitely not High Priestess material. I just want to figure out how to fit in here, but Neferet had certainly made what was happening to me seem easier to bear.

  “Yes, I am.” I was glad I sounded more confident than I felt.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “What time is it?”

  We were walking down a narrow hall that curved gently. The walls were made of an odd mixture of dark stone and jutting brick. Every so often flickering gaslights that hung from old-fashioned-looking black iron sconces stuck out of the wall, giving off a soft yellow glow that was, thankfully, really easy on my eyes. There were no windows in the hall, and we didn’t meet anyone else (even though I kept peeking nervously around, imagining my first glimpse of vampyre kids).

  “It is nearly four A.M., which means classes have been out for almost an hour.” Neferet said, and then she smiled slightly at what I’m sure was my totally shocked expression.

  “Classes begin at eight P.M., and end at three A.M.,” she explained. “Teachers are available until three thirty A.M. to give students extra help. The gym is open until dawn, the exact time of which you will always know as soon as you have completed the Change. Until then dawn time is clearly posted in all the classrooms, common rooms, and gathering areas, including the dining hall, library, and gym. Nyx’s Temple is, of course, open at all hours, but formal rituals are held twice a week right after school. The next ritual will be tomorrow.” Neferet glanced at me and her slight sm
ile warmed. “It seems overwhelming now, but you’ll catch on quickly. And your roommate will help you, as will I.”

  I was just getting ready to open my mouth to ask her another question when an orange ball of fur ran into the hall and without a sound, hurled itself into Neferet’s arms. I jumped and made a stupid little squee sound—then I felt like a total retard when I saw that the orange ball of fur was not a flying boogieman or whatever, but a massively big cat.

  Neferet laughed and scratched the fur ball’s ears. “Zoey, meet Skylar. He’s usually prowling around here waiting to launch himself at me.”

  “That’s the biggest cat I’ve ever seen,” I said, reaching my hand out to let him sniff me.

  “Careful, he’s a known biter.”

  Before I could jerk my hand out of the way, Skylar started rubbing his face on my fingers. I held my breath.

  Neferet tilted her head to the side, as if she was listening to words in the wind. “He likes you, which is definitely unusual. He doesn’t like anyone except me. He even keeps the other cats away from this end of campus. He’s really a terrible bully,” she said fondly.

  I carefully scratched Skylar’s ears like Neferet had been doing. “I like cats,” I said softly. “I used to have one, but when my mom got remarried I had to give it to Street Cats to be adopted. John, her new husband, doesn’t like cats.”

  “I’ve found that the way a person feels about cats—and the way they feel about him or her in return—is usually an excellent gauge by which to measure a person’s character.”

  I looked up from the cat to meet her green eyes and saw that she understood a lot more about freaky family issues than she was saying. It made me feel connected to her, and automatically my stress level relaxed a little. “Are there a lot of cats here?”

  “Yes, there are. Cats have always been closely allied with vampyres.”

  Okay, actually I already knew that. In World History with Mr. Shaddox (better known as Puff Shaddy, but don’t tell him) we learned that in the past cats had been slaughtered because it was thought that they somehow turned people into vampyres. Yeah, okay, talk about ridiculous. More evidence of the stupidity of humans . . . the thought popped into my mind, shocking me by how easily I’d already started thinking of “normal” people as “humans,” and therefore something different than me.

  “Do you think I could have a cat?” I asked.

  “If one chooses you, you will belong to him or her.”

  “Chooses me?”

  Neferet smiled and stroked Skylar, who closed his eyes and purred loudly. “Cats choose us; we don’t own them.” As if to demonstrate what she said was true, Skylar jumped out of her arms and, with a stuck-up flick of his tail, disappeared down the hall.

  Neferet laughed. “He’s really awful, but I do adore him. I think I would, even were it not part of my gift from Nyx.”

  “Gift? Skylar is a gift from the Goddess?”

  “Yes, in a way. Every High Priestess is given an affinity—what you would probably think of as special powers—by the Goddess. It’s part of the way we identify our High Priestesses. The affinities can be unusual cognitive skills, like reading minds or having visions and being able to predict the future. Or the affinity can be for something in the physical realm, like a special connection to one of the four elements, or to animals. I have two Goddess gifts. My main affinity is for cats; I have a connection with them that is unusual, even for a vampyre. Nyx has also given me unusual powers of healing.” She smiled. “Which is why I know you’re healing well—my gift told me.”

  “Wow, that’s amazing,” was all I could think to say. My head was already reeling from the events of the past day.

  “Come on. Let’s get you to your room. I’m sure you’re hungry and tired. Dinner will start in”—Neferet cocked her head to the side as if someone was weirdly whispering the time to her—“an hour.” She gave me a knowing smile. “Vampyres always know what time it is.”

  “That’s cool, too.”

  “That, my dear fledgling, is just the tip of the ‘cool’ iceberg.”

  I hoped her analogy didn’t have anything to do with Titanic-sized disasters. As we continued walking down the hall I thought about time and stuff, and remembered the question I had started to ask when Skylar had interrupted my easily derailed train of thought.

  “So, wait. You said that classes start at eight? At night?” Okay, I’m usually not this slow, but some of this was like she was speaking a foreign language to me. I was having a hard time getting it.

  “Once you take a moment to think about it you’ll understand that having classes at night is only logical. Of course you must know that vampyres, adult or fledgling, don’t explode, or any other such fictional nonsense, if subjected to direct sunlight, but it is uncomfortable for us. Wasn’t the sunlight already difficult for you to bear today?”

  I nodded. “My Maui Jims didn’t even help much.” Then I added quickly, feeling moronic again, “Uh, Maui Jims are sunglasses.”

  “Yes, Zoey,” Neferet said patiently. “I know sunglasses. Very well, actually.”

  “Oh, God, I’m sorry I—” I broke off, wondering whether it was okay for me to say “God.” Would it offend Neferet, a High Priestess who wore her Goddess Mark so proudly? Hell, would it offend Nyx? Oh, God. What about saying “hell”? It was my favorite cuss word ever. (Okay, it was really the only cuss word I used regularly.) Could I still say it? The People of Faith preached that vampyres worshiped a false goddess and that they were mostly selfish, dark creatures who cared about nothing except money and luxury and drinking blood and they were all certainly going straight to hell, so wouldn’t that mean that I should watch how and where I used . . .

  “Zoey.”

  I looked up to find Neferet studying me with a concerned expression and realized that she had probably been trying to get my attention while I had been babbling inside my head.

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated.

  Neferet stopped. She put her hands on my shoulders and turned me so that I had to face her.

  “Zoey, quit apologizing. And remember, everyone here has been where you are. This was new to all of us once. We know what it feels like—the fear of the Change—the shock at your life being turned into something foreign.”

  “And not being able to control any of it,” I added quietly.

  “That, too. It won’t always be this bad. When you’re a mature vampyre your life will seem your own again. You’ll make your own choices; go your own way; follow the path down which your heart and soul and talents lead you.”

  “If I become a mature vampyre.”

  “You will, Zoey.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  Neferet’s eyes found the darkened Mark on my forehead. “Nyx has chosen you. For what, we do not know. But her Mark has been clearly placed upon you. She would not have touched you only to see you fail.”

  I remembered the Goddess’s words, Zoey Redbird, Daughter of Night, I name you my eyes and ears in the world today, a world where good and evil are struggling to find balance, and looked quickly away from Neferet’s sharp gaze, wishing desperately that I knew why my gut was still telling me to keep my mouth shut about my meeting with the Goddess.

  “It’s—it’s just a lot to happen all in one day.”

  “It certainly is, especially on an empty stomach.”

  We had started walking again when the sound of a ringing cell phone made me jump. Neferet sighed and smiled apologetically at me, then she fished a small phone out of her pocket.

  “Neferet,” she said. She listened for a little while and I saw her forehead wrinkle, and her eyes narrow. “No, you were right to call me. I’ll come back and check on her.” And she flipped the phone shut. “I’m sorry, Zoey. One of the fledglings broke her leg earlier today. It seems she’s having trouble resting, and I should go back and be sure all is well with her. Why don’t you follow this hallway around to the left until you come to the main door? You can’t miss it—it’s large a
nd made of very old wood. Right outside is a stone bench. You can wait there for me. I won’t be long.”

  “Okay, no problem.” But before I’d finished speaking Neferet had already disappeared back down the winding hallway. I sighed. I didn’t like the idea of being by myself in a place that was full of vampyres and vampyre kids. And now that Neferet was gone the little flickering lights didn’t seem so welcoming. They seemed weird, throwing ghostly shadows against the old stone hall.

  Determined not to freak myself out, I started slowly down the hall in the direction we had been heading. Pretty soon I almost wished I’d run into some other people (even if they were vampyres). It was too quiet. And creepy. A couple of times the hall branched off to the right, but like Neferet had told me, I kept to the left. Actually, I also kept my eyes to the left because those other halls had hardly any lights in them.

  Unfortunately at the next right-hand turn off the hall I didn’t avert my eyes. Okay, so the reason made sense. I heard something. To be more specific, I heard a laugh. It was a soft, girly laugh that for some reason made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It also made me stop walking. I peeked down the hall and thought I saw movement in the shadows.

  Zoey . . . My name was whispered from the shadows.

  I blinked in surprise. Had I really heard my name or was I imagining things? The voice was almost familiar. Could it be Nyx again? Was the Goddess calling my name? Almost as afraid as I was intrigued, I held my breath and took a few steps into the side hallway.

  As I walked around the gentle bend I saw something ahead of me that made me stop and automatically move closer to the wall. In a little alcove not far from me were two people. At first I couldn’t make my mind process what I was seeing; then in a rush I understood.

  I should have gotten out of there then. I should have backed silently away and tried not to think about what I’d seen. But I didn’t do any of those things. It was like my feet were suddenly so heavy I couldn’t pick them up. All I could do was watch.

  The man—and then with a little jolt of additional shock I realized that he wasn’t a man, he was a teenager—not more than a year or so older than me. He was standing with his back pressed against the stone of the alcove. His head was tilted back and he was breathing hard. His face was in the shadows, but even though he was only partially visible I could see that he was handsome. Then another breathy little laugh drew my eyes downward.