P.C. Cast - Awakened

So instead of subjugation to a goddess you choose to chase after a fallen immortal male?

Neferet’s gaze met the bull’s black, bottomless eyes. “Kalona is nothing to me. I was going to him to exact my revenge for the oath he broke. It is my right to do so.”

He broke no oath. It did not bind him. Kalona’s soul is no longer fully immortal—he has foolishly given a piece of it away.

“Truly? How very interesting…” Neferet’s body hummed with excitement at the news.

I see that you are still infatuated with the thought of using him.

Neferet lifted her chin and shook back her long auburn hair. “I am not infatuated with Kalona. I only wish to harness and use his powers.”

You are truly a magnificent, heartless creature. The bull’s tongue snaked out. He licked Neferet’s naked flesh, causing her to gasp in exquisite pain as her body trembled with excitement. It has been more than a century since I have had such a willing follower. The idea seems suddenly appealing.

Neferet stayed on her knees before him. Slowly, gently, she reached out and touched him. His coat was frigid as ice, but slick like water.

Neferet felt his body shiver in anticipation. Ah, his voice resonated through her mind, and entered her soul, making her head dizzy with the power of it. I’d forgotten how surprising touch can be when it is not forced. It is not often that I am surprised, and I find myself wanting to show you such a favor in return.

“I would willingly accept any favor Darkness would do for me.”

The bull’s knowing chuckle rumbled through her mind. Yes, I do believe I would like to gift you with something.

“A gift?” she said breathlessly, loving the irony that Darkness Incarnate’s words so clearly mirrored those of Nyx. “What is it?”

Would it give you pleasure to know that I could create for you a Vessel, to take Kalona’s place? He would be yours to command—yours to use as an absolute weapon.

“Would he be powerful?” Neferet’s breathing had increased.

If the sacrifice is deserving, he would be very powerful.

“I would sacrifice anything or anyone to Darkness,” Neferet said. “Tell me what you desire for the creation of this creature, and I will give it to you.”

To create the Vessel, I must have the lifeblood of a woman who has ancient ties to the earth, passed to her through generation upon generation of matriarchs. The stronger, purer, older the woman, the more perfect the Vessel.

“Human or vampyre?” Neferet asked.

Human—they are more thoroughly tied to the earth, as their bodies return to the earth so much more quickly than do vampyres’.

Neferet smiled. “I know exactly who would be the perfect sacrifice. If you take me to her tonight, I will give her blood to you.”

The bull’s black eyes glinted with what Neferet thought might be amusement. Then he bent his huge forelegs, making his back accessible to her. I am intrigued by your offer, my heartless one. Show me the sacrifice.

“You wish for me to ride you?”

With no hesitation, Neferet rose and walked around to the side of his smooth, slick back. Though he was on his knees, she was still going to have to struggle to mount him. Then she felt the familiar thrill of the power of Darkness. Weightlessly, it lifted her so that she was astride his massive back.

Picture in your mind the place you wish for me to take you—the place where your sacrifice can be found—and I will take you there.

Neferet lay forward, wrapping her arms around his huge neck, and she began picturing lavender fields and a lovely little cottage made of Oklahoma stone with a welcoming wooden porch and large, revealing windows …

Linda Heffer

Linda hated to admit it, but all these years her mother had been right. “John Heffer is a su-li. ” She said aloud the Cherokee word for “buzzard,” which is what her mother had called John the first night they’d met. “Well, he’s also a lying, cheating jerk—but a jerk with zero dollars in his savings and checking account,” she said smugly. “Because I drained them today, right after I caught him with the church secretary bent over his office desk!”

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel of their Intrepid and she flicked on her brights as she replayed the terrible scene over in her mind. She’d thought it would be a nice surprise to make him a special lunch and bring it to him at his office. John had been working so many late hours—putting in so much overtime. But even after all those hours at work he still kept up so much volunteer time at church … Linda pressed her lips together.

Well, now she knew what he’d really been doing! Or rather, who he’d really been doing!

She should have known. All the signs were there—he’d stopped paying attention to her, stopped coming home, lost ten pounds, and even bleached his teeth!

He’d try to talk her back. She knew he would. He’d even tried to get her from running out of his office, but it’d been pretty darn hard to chase her with his pants around his ankles.

“The worst part is that he won’t want me back because he loves me. He’ll want me back so he doesn’t look bad.” Linda bit her lip and blinked hard, refusing to cry. “No,” she admitted aloud to herself. “The worst part is that John never loved me. He just wanted to look like the perfect family man, so he needed me. Our family was never anything close to perfect—anything close to happy.” My mother had been right. Zoey had been right, too.

Thinking of Zoey was what finally tipped the tears over to spill down her cheeks. Linda missed Zoey. Of her three children, she’d been closest to Zoey. She smiled through her tears, remembering how she and Zoey used to have geekends where they’d curl up on the couch together, eat lots of junk food, and watch either the Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter movies, or even sometimes Star Wars. How long had it been since they’d done that? Years. Would they ever again? Linda hiccupped a little sob. Could they now that Zoey was at the House of Night?

Would Zoey even want to see her again?

She’d never forgive herself if she’d let John irreparably mess up her relationship with Zoey.

That was one reason she’d gotten in the car, in the middle of the night, and headed to her mother’s house. Linda wanted to talk to her mother about Zoey—about mending her relationship with Zoey.

Linda also wanted to lean on her mother’s strength. She wanted help to stand firm and not let John talk her into a reconciliation.

But mostly, Linda just wanted her mother.

It didn’t matter that she was a grown woman with children of her own. She still needed her mother’s arms to hold her, and her mother’s voice to reassure her that everything really would be all right—that she’d made the right decision.

Linda was so deep in thought that she almost missed the turnoff to her mother’s house. She braked hard and just made the right turn. Then she slowed the car so that it wouldn’t spin out on the dirt road that led between lavender fields to her mother’s house. It’d been more than a year since she’d been here, but it hadn’t changed—and Linda was thankful for that. It made her feel safe and normal again.

Her mother’s porch light was on, and so was one lamp light inside. Linda smiled as she parked and got out of the car. It was probably that 1920s brass mermaid lamp her mother liked to read by late at night—only it wouldn’t be late to Sylvia Redbird. Four in the morning would be early for her, and just about getting up time.

Linda was just going to tap on the windowpane of the door before opening it when she saw the note written on lavender-scented paper and taped on the door. Her mother’s distinctive handwriting said: