I gulped and nodded. I was already way too aware that I was the main attraction in a freak show.

"Sunday is the right time for you to tell the Dark Daughters about your new vision for it. Announce that there is one spot left on your Council, and that it must be filled by a sixth former. You and I will look over the applications and decide who is the best fit."

I frowned. "But I don't want it to just be our choice. I want the faculty to vote, as well as the student body."

"They will," she said smoothly. "Then we will decide."

I wanted to say more, but her green eyes had gone cold; I'm not ashamed to admit that that scared me. So instead of arguing with her (which was totally impossible) I went down a different road (as my grandma would say).

"I also want the Dark Daughters to get involved with a com­munity charity."

This time Neferet's brows totally disappeared into her hairline. "You mean community as in the human community?"

"I do."

"You think they will welcome your help? They shun us. They abhor us. They are afraid of us."

"Maybe that's because they don't know us," I said. "Maybe if we acted like part of Tulsa, we'd get treated like part of Tulsa."

"Have you read about the Greenwood riots in the 1920s? Those African-American humans were part of Tulsa, and Tulsa destroyed them."

"It's not 1920 anymore," I said. It was hard to meet her eyes, but I knew, deep inside, that I was doing the right thing. "Neferet, my intuition is telling me this is something I must do."

I watched her expression soften. "And I did tell you to follow your intuition, didn't I?"

I nodded.

"What charity will you choose to get involved with—providing they actually allow you to help them?"

"Oh, I think they'll let us help them. I've decided to contact Street Cats—the cat rescue charity."

Neferet threw back her head and laughed.

I was already out of the dining hall and heading to the dorm when I realized that I hadn't said anything to Neferet about the ghosts, but no way did I want to go back upstairs and start that subject. The conversation I'd already had with Neferet had com­pletely exhausted me, and despite the beautiful dining room with its great view and its crystal and linen, I'd been eager to get out of there. I wanted to go back to the dorm and tell Stevie Rae about the whole Loren thing and then do nothing but veg out and watch bad reruns on TV and try to forget (at least for one night) that I had a terrible premonition about Chris's disappearance and that I was A Big Deal now and in charge of the most impor­tant student group at the school. Whatever. I just wanted to be me for a while. As I'd told Neferet, Chris was probably safely at home already. And there was plenty of time for everything else. Tomor­row I'd write down an outline of what I was going to say to the Dark Daughters on Sunday. I guess I'd also have to work on a Full Moon Ritual ... my first real public circle casting and formal rit­ual. My stomach started to gurgle. I ignored it.

I was halfway to the dorm when I remembered that I also had an essay due Monday for Vamp Soc. Sure, Neferet had excused me from most of the third former work in that class so I could focus on reading ahead in the higher level Soc text, but I'd been trying really hard to be "normal" (Whatever that was—hello—I'm a teenager and a fledgling vampyre. How could any of that be nor­mal?), which meant I made sure I turned in papers when the rest of the class did. So I hurriedly backtracked to my homeroom class, where my locker and all of my books were kept. It was also Neferet's room, but I'd just left her having wine with several of the other profs upstairs. For a change I didn't have any worries about overhearing something awful.

As usual, the door was unlocked. Why have locks when you had vamp intuition to scare the bejeezus out of kids instead? The room was dark, but that didn't matter. I'd only been Marked one month, but already I saw just as well with the lights off as with them on. Actually, better. Bright lights hurt my eyes—sunlight was almost unbearable.

I hesitated as I opened my locker, realizing that I hadn't seen the sun in almost a month. I hadn't even thought about it till now. Huh. Weird.

I was considering the bizarreness of my new life when I no­ticed the piece of paper that had been taped to the inside shelf of my locker. It fluttered in the temporary breeze I'd created by opening the door. My hand lifted to calm it, and I felt a jolt of shock when I realized what it was.

Poetry.

Or, more accurately, a poem. It was short and written in a bold, attractive cursive. I read it and reread it, registering specifi­cally what it was. Haiku.

Ancient Queen awake

A chrysalis not yet formed

Will your wings unfold?

I let my fingers brush the words. I knew who had written it. There was only one logical answer. My heart squeezed as I whis­pered his name, "Loren ..."

"I'm serious, Stevie Rae. If I tell you, you have to swear you won't say anything to anyone. And when I say anyone I especially mean Damien and the Twins."

"Dang, Zoey, you can trust me. I said I swear. What do you want me to do, open a vein?"

I didn't say anything.

"Zoey, you really can trust me. Promise."

I studied my best friend's face. I needed to talk to someone—someone who was not a vamp. I searched inside myself, to the core of what Neferet would call my intuition. It felt right to con­fide in Stevie Rae. It felt safe.

"Sorry. I know I can trust you. I'm just … I don't know." I shook my head, frustrated by my own confusion. "Okay, weird stuff has happened today."

"You mean more than the normal weirdness that goes on around here?"

"Yeah. Loren Blake came into the library today while I was there. He was the first person I talked to about the Prefect Coun­cil idea and my new ideas for the Dark Daughters."

"Loren Blake? As in the most gorgeous vamp any of us have ever seen? ness . I better sit down." Stevie Rae col­lapsed on her bed.

"That's who I mean."

"I can't believe you haven't said anything about this until now. You must have been dying."

"Well, that's not all. He … uh ... touched me. And more than once. Okay, actually I saw him more than once today. Alone. And I think he wrote me a poem."

"What!"

"Yeah, at first I was sure it was perfectly innocent and I was imagining anything else. In the library we just talked about the ideas I had for the Dark Daughters. I didn't think it meant any­thing. But, well, he touched my Mark."

"Which one?" Stevie Rae asked. Her eyes were huge and round and she looked like she was going to explode.

"The one on my face. That time."

"What do you mean that time!"

"Well, after I got done with brushing Persephone I wasn't in any hurry to get back to the dorm. So I went for a walk over by the west wall. Loren was there."

"Ohmydearsweetlord. What happened?"

"I think we flirted."

"You think!"

"We were laughing and smiling at each other."

"Sounds like flirting to me. God, he is so totally gorgeous."

"Tell me about it. When he smiles at me I can hardly breathe. And get this—he recited a poem to me," I said. "It was a haiku a man wrote about looking at his naked lover in the moonlight."

"You have got to be kidding!" Stevie Rae started fanning herself with her hand. "Get to the touching part."

I took a deep breath. "It was really confusing. Everything was going really well. Like I said, we were laughing and talking. Then he said he was out there by himself because that's how he gets in­spired to write haiku—"

"Which is insanely romantic!"

I nodded and continued. "I know. Anyway, I told him I hadn't meant to mess up his inspiration and bother him, and he said that more things inspired him than just the night. And he asked me if I'd be his inspiration."