been raised by a woman who made Erce look like Mary Fucking Poppins.
“So you think I’m just a human kid, do you?” Aphrodite got all into the vamp’s personal space, which made Erce take an automaticstep back. “Think again. I’m a prophetess of Nyx. Remember her? Nyx—as in
your Goddess who is the boss of you
. I do
not
need to be some guy’s refrigerator to have the right to go before the High Council. Nyx herself gave me the right. Now move the hell out of my way!”
“Though she could have phrased it more politely, the child makes a valid point, Erce. Let her pass. I’ll take responsibility for her presence if the Council disapproves.”
Aphrodite felt the small hairs along her forearms lift as Neferet’s smooth voice came from behind her.
“It is not customary,” Erce said, but her capitulation was already obvious.
“Neither is it customary for the soul of a fledgling to be shattered,” said Neferet.
“I must agree with you, Priestess.” Erce stepped aside and opened the thick stone door. “And you are now responsible for this human’s presence in the Chamber.”
“Thank you, Erce. That is gracious of you. Oh, and I am having a few of the Council Warriors deliver something here. Be quite sure to allow them to pass, too, would you please?”
Aphrodite didn’t so much as glance back as Erce murmured a predictable, “Of course, Priestess.” Instead, she strode into the ancient building.
“Isn’t it odd that once again we are allies, child?” Neferet’s voice followed close behind her.
“We’ll never be allies, and I’m not a child,” Aphrodite said without looking at her or slowing down. The entry foyer opened to a huge stone amphitheater that spread around her in circular row after row. Aphrodite’s eyes were drawn up immediately to the stained-glass window directly before her that depicted Nyx, framed by a brilliant pentagram, graceful arms upraised and cupping a crescent moon.
“It’s really lovely, isn’t it?” Neferet’s voice was easy and conversational. “Vampyres have always been responsible for creating the greatest works of art in the world.”
Aphrodite still refused to look at the ex–High Priestess. Instead, she shrugged. “Vamps have money. Money buys pretty things, whetherthey’re made by humans or nonhumans. And you don’t know for sure that vamps made that window. I mean, you’re old, but not
that
old.” As Aphrodite tried to ignore Neferet’s soft, condescending laughter, her gaze moved down to the center of the chamber. At first she didn’t really comprehend what she was seeing, and then when she got it, it was as if someone had punched her in the gut.
There were seven carved marble thrones on the huge raised platform that made up the inner floor of the chamber. Vampyres were seated in the thrones, but they weren’t what caught Aphrodite’s gaze. What she couldn’t stop staring at was Zoey, lying on the dais in front of the thrones like a dead body stretched out on a funeral slab. And then there was Stark. He was on his knees beside Zoey. He was turned just enough so that Aphrodite could see his face. He didn’t make one sound, but tears were falling freely down his cheeks and pooling on his shirt. Darius was standing next to him, and he was saying something she couldn’t quite hear to the brunette sitting in the first throne whose thick hair was streaked with gray. Damien, Jack, and the Twins were huddled together, typically sheeplike, in a nearby row of stone benches. They were bawling, too, but their loud, messy tears were as different from Stark’s silent misery as was the ocean from a babbling brook.
Aphrodite automatically started forward, but Neferet grabbed her wrist. And that finally made her turn to look at her old mentor.
“You really should let go of me,” Aphrodite said softly.
Neferet raised one brow. “Have you finally learned to stand up to a mother figure?”
Aphrodite let the anger burn quietly within her. “You