“Fine. Fine. Whatever.”

Aphrodite looked at Shaylin. Shaylin stared back at her. Aphrodite flipped her hair. Shaylin’s eyes widened. “Are you nervous?”

“I never get nervous.”

“You’re fidgeting with your hair.”

“I’m flipping my hair.”

“You need something from me.” Shaylin smiled.

“No. I don’t need anything from you. Aphrodite, Prophetess of Nyx, needs something from you.”

“If you start talking about yourself in the third person I’m going to get very creeped out.”

“Just shut it and listen: I had a vision, and it had to do with Zoey losing control of her temper, and bad stuff happening because of it.”

Shaylin’s smile disappeared. “Did you tell Z?”

“I don’t think I should. Or at least I don’t think I should right now.”

“Have you prayed about it and really listened for an answer from Nyx?”

“Yes, moron. Of course I have. The answer I got is why I’m standing here talking to you and not Zoey.”

“Don’t call me a moron,” Shaylin said.

“Then don’t sound like one. You already know something’s up with Z.”

Shaylin chewed her lip.

“Well?” Aphrodite pressed.

“I’m not comfortable talking about this with you.”

“Forget you’re talking to me. Pretend like we’re one Prophetess talking to another Prophetess about our High Priestess, because that’s actually what we are.” Aphrodite met her gaze. “This isn’t gossip. This isn’t mean. This is us doing our jobs.”

“Her colors are getting weirder and weirder,” Shaylin said quietly.

“Weirder? Like it’s been happening?”

“Yeah, I talked to her about it in the tunnels. I noticed her colors were getting murky, swirling together, and I told her that it seemed to me that she was confused about something.”

“And then what?”

“She said I was kinda right, and basically, that I shouldn’t blab her business around to everyone.”

“Yeah, I can understand why she’d say that,” Aphrodite said.

“And now I’ve blabbed and I feel crappy about it.”

“I’m not going to say anything to anyone—not even Zoey. Shaylin, are Zoey’s colors still murky?”

“Very, and they’re swirling, almost like the beginning of a whirlpool or the tip of a tornado.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Anger. Confusion. Frustration. Basically, not good stuff. Okay, here’s an example: Dallas’s colors are always swirling.”

“Shit! Are Zoey’s always swirling?”

“No, that just started, and it doesn’t keep going. She was swirly when she first came up to the circle tonight, but as Thanatos talked and prayed, she got more and more still and clear. By the time Shaunee lit the pyre she was back to her normal purple with silver flecks. Sorry, I know it’s super confusing,” Shaylin said, shaking her head.

“Actually, I think you’re doing a good job of describing it.” When Shaylin blinked at her in surprise Aphrodite added, “I told you she’s Aphrodite, Prophetess of Nyx, right now.”

“Third person—creepy.”

“Get used to it. Here’s what the Prophetess wants you to do—keep watching Zoey and tell me whenever she starts to swirl.”

“Like, right away?”

“Yes, moron. Right away.”

“You’re sounding a lot more like Aphrodite than the Prophetess right now,” Shaylin said.

“That’s because she and I have mind melded. Just do what we say and no one gets hurt,” Aphrodite said.

“You’re so damn strange,” Shaylin said.

“Normal is overrated. Do we have a deal?”

“Do you promise not to tell anyone except Zoey and Nyx what I tell you?”

Aphrodite hesitated, then nodded. “I promise. You have my oath on it. I wouldn’t gossip about Zoey.”

Shaylin studied her. “I believe you. Both of you.” 

Aurox

Aurox wondered if funerals ever got easier. Would it be less sad if he had lived decades of life first? If he had friends he could talk with afterward?

He walked away from the main group, heading nowhere in particular. No one spoke to him. No one noticed him. But Aurox noticed everything and everyone.

Shaunee remained beside the burning pyre, crying softly, though the heat of the flames dried her tears almost instantly. Thanatos stood as close to her as she could bear. The winged immortal remained as well, standing statue-like in the shadows, eyes scanning the area around the pyre as if he expected an enemy to appear from the fledgling’s ashes.

Aurox moved swiftly and silently, staying out of Kalona’s line of vision. He didn’t know what to make of the immortal. Was he friend, foe, or simply a god whose purpose was to observe them and laugh?

Aurox continued to move through the shadows. Rephaim was comforting Stevie Rae. Aurox envied their closeness—especially the way Stevie Rae was able to accept Rephaim completely, without judgment or hesitation.

He noticed Dallas as well. The young red vampyre seemed miserable, filled with anger and envy. Aurox did not like how he stared at Stevie Rae and muttered to himself. Perhaps he should speak with Thanatos about him, though the High Priestess, as well as the rest of the House of Night, seemed well aware of Dallas’s potential for violence.

Aphrodite flitted off. Aurox saw her calling to Shaylin. It felt right that the two Prophetesses would seek one another out, especially during such trying times.

He should have continued to walk away—continued to fade into the night and wait until Stevie Rae’s red fledglings were settled for the daylight hours in their new lair in the basement. Then he could reappear to stand guard. To protect. To remain silent and vigilant, and to want no more than to serve this House, and through this House, the Goddess Nyx.

But, as always, Zoey drew his gaze. Aurox paused, and from the darkness allowed himself a moment to watch her. Stark was holding her hand as she talked with Damien and Darius. She kept glancing from whomever she was speaking to, to Shaunee. Zoey was nodding, and engaging in the conversation, but Aurox could tell that most of her attention was on her friend who stood so close to the pyre, weeping.

Zoey will probably remain until Shaunee is ready to say her final good-bye, Aurox thought. For a moment he considered remaining as well—waiting with Zoey. Perhaps there would be something he could say or do that would help.

No. Stark would be with Zoey, and Stark could only abide Aurox’s presence if Zoey wasn’t near.

And yet Aurox felt drawn to Stark as well as to his young Priestess. He honestly liked the Warrior. There had even been moments today when he had been helping Stark and Darius ready the basement for the red fledglings that they had worked easily together—companionably. Aurox had almost felt as if he belonged. Then Stark and Darius had sent him on an errand and Thanatos had called him—asked him to find Zoey—she was late for a meeting.

Aurox had found Zoey easily. He thought he could always find Zo.

But Stark had been with her, and suddenly the Warrior had become strange, cold, freezing him out and causing Zoey to berate him in front of the others.

He’s jealous of me, Aurox thought, though he knew there was no reason for Stark to feel the slightest bit of jealousy.

Zoey paid no attention to Aurox. She rarely even glanced in his direction. Earlier, it had seemed as if she could hardly bear to share the same table with him in the cafeteria.

Aurox knew that within him there was supposed to be the soul of a human boy named Heath. This boy had been Zoey’s love—her intended Consort—even though she was bonded to an Oath Sworn Warrior.

Aurox had asked Damien about it, and Damien had explained the situation to him with patience and kindness, though his explanation hadn’t really helped.

It wasn’t that Aurox didn’t understand that it was acceptable for a fledgling or a vampyre to have a human Consort as well as a Warrior or even a vampyre mate. That made sense to Aurox. Love was too complex an emotion to be constrained and given limitations.