Chris is dead. I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to know it. But everything inside me said that the kid would be found, but he'd be found dead.

We met Damien in the dining hall, and everyone's conversa­tion was centered around Chris and theories about his disappear­ance, which ranged from the Twins' insistence that "the hottie probably had a fight with his parental units and he's off drinking cheap beer somewhere" to Damien's firm belief that he might have discovered homosexual tendencies and had taken off for New York City to fulfill his dream of being a gay model.

I didn't have a theory. All I had was a terrible feeling, which I wasn't willing to talk about.

Naturally, I couldn't eat. My stomach was killing me. Again. "You're picking at your excellent food," Damien said.

"I'm just not hungry."

"That's what you said at lunch."

"Okay, well, I'm saying it again!" I snapped, and was instantly sorry when Damien looked hurt and frowned down at his yummy bowl of Vietnamese noodle salad called Bun Cha Gio. The Twins raised one eyebrow each at me, and then went back to focusing on using chopsticks correctly. Stevie Rae just stared at me, silent worry clear on her face.

"Here. I found this. I have a feeling it's yours."

Aphrodite dropped the silver hoop beside my plate. I looked up at her perfect face. It was weirdly expressionless, as was her voice.

"So, is it yours?"

I reached up automatically and touched its mate, which was still in my ear. I'd forgotten all about that I'd dropped the damn thing so that I could pretend to find it while I eavesdropped on Aphrodite and Neferet. Crap. "Yes. Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Guess you're not the only one who has feel­ings about things, huh?"

She turned and walked out of the dining hall through the glass doors and into the courtyard. Even though she was carrying a tray with her uneaten dinner on it, she didn't even pause to look at the table where her friends sat. I noticed that they glanced up as she passed, but then they looked hastily away. None of them met her eyes. Aphrodite ate outside in the dimly lit courtyard where she'd been eating for most of the past month. Alone.

"Okay, she is just weird," Shaunee said.

"Yeah, weird as in psycho bitch from hell," Erin said.

"Her own friends won't have anything to do with her," I said.

"Stop feeling sorry for her!" Stevie Rae said, sounding uncharacteristically pissed off. "She's trouble, can't you see that?"

"I didn't say she wasn't," I said. "I just commented that even her friends have turned their backs on her."

"Did we miss something?" Shaunee asked.

"What's going on with you and Aphrodite?" Damien asked me.

I opened my mouth to tell them about what I'd overheard ear­lier, and was silenced by Neferet's smooth, "Zoey, I hope you don't mind if I pull you away from your friends tonight."

I looked slowly up at her, almost scared about what I might see. I mean, last time I heard her voice she had sounded incredibly hateful and cold. My eyes lifted to hers. They were moss green and beautiful and her kind smile was just starting to look worried.

"Zoey? Is something wrong?"

"No! I'm sorry. My mind was wandering."

"I'd like you to have dinner with me tonight."

"Oh, sure. Of course. No problem; I'd like that." I realized I was babbling, but there didn't seem to be anything I could do about it. I hoped it would eventually stop. Kinda like how you can't have diarrhea forever—it eventually has to stop.

"Good." She smiled at my four friends. "I need to borrow Zoey, but I will return her soon."

The four of them gave her hero-worshiping grins and quick assurances that they were cool with whatever.

I know it's ridiculous, but their easy release of me made me feel abandoned and insecure. But that's stupid. Neferet is my mentor, and High Priestess of Nyx. She's one of the good guys.

So why was my stomach clenching as I followed her out of the dining hall?

I glanced over my shoulder at my group. They were already talking away. Damien was holding up his chopsticks, obviously giving the Twins another lesson in how to maneuver them. Stevie Rae was demonstrating for him. I felt eyes on me and looked from them to the wall of glass that separated the dining area and the courtyard. Sitting alone in the night, Aphrodite was watching me with an expression that might almost be pity.

The vamps' dining hall wasn't a cafeteria. It was a very cool room that was directly above the students' dining hall. It, too, had a wall of arched windows. Wrought-iron tables and chairs were set up on the balcony that overlooked the courtyard below. The rest of the room was tastefully and expensively decorated with a variety of different size tables and even a few booths made of dark cherry-wood. There were no trays here and no serve-yourself buffets. Linens, china, and crystal were set tastefully on the tables, and long, thin white tapers burned happily in crystal holders. There were a few professors eating in quiet couples or small groups. They nodded at Neferet respectfully and smiled quick welcomes to me before going back to their meals.

I tried to gawk at what they were eating without being too obvious, but all I saw was the same Vietnamese salad we'd been eating downstairs, and some fancy-looking spring rolls. There wasn't one sign of raw meat or anything that resembled blood (well, except for the red wine). And, of course, I really didn't need to bother about gawking. If they'd been feasting on bloody what­ever I would have smelled it. I was intimately familiar with the delicious scent of blood ...

"Would the cool night bother you if we sat outside on the bal­cony?" Neferet asked.

"No, I don't think so. I don't feel the cold like I used to." I smiled brightly at her, reminding myself severely that she's an in­tuitive and she was probably "hearing" pieces of the stupid stuff cascading through my mind.

"Good, I prefer dining on the balcony in all seasons." She led me through the doors to a table already set for two. A server mag­ically appeared—obviously a vampyre by her filled-in Mark and the series of slim tattoos that framed her heart-shaped face, but she looked really young. "Yes, bring me the Bun Cha Gio and a pitcher of the same red wine I had last night." She paused, and then with a secret smile to me added, "And please bring Zoey a glass of any brown pop we have, so long as it isn't diet."

"Thank you," I told her.

"Just try not to drink too much of that stuff. It's really not good for you." She winked at me, making her admonishment a little joke.

I grinned at her, happy that she remembered what I like, and I started to feel more relaxed. This was Neferet—our High Priest­ess. She was my mentor and my friend and in the month I'd been here she'd never been anything but kind to me. Yes, she'd sounded scary as hell when I overheard her with Aphrodite, but Neferet was a powerful Priestess, and as Stevie Rae kept reminding me, Aphrodite was a selfish bully who deserved to be in trouble. Hell! She'd probably been gossiping about me.

"Feeling better?" Neferet said.

I met her eyes. She was studying me carefully.

"Yeah, I am."

"When I heard about the missing human teenager I began to worry about you. This Chris Ford was a friend of yours, wasn't he?"

Nothing she said should surprise me. Neferet was incredibly smart and gifted by the Goddess. Add to that the weird sixth sense all the vamps had, and more than likely she knew literally everything (or at least everything important). It had probably been easy-peasy for her to know that I'd had my own intuitive feeling about Chris's disappearance.

"Well, he wasn't really a friend of mine. We've been at some of the same parties, but I don't really like to party, so I didn't know him that well."