Loved (House of Night Other World #1)(18)

“That’s so gross,” I said.

“You think hearing about it’s gross? Trying living it. Or dying it.” She shrugged and took another sip of champagne. “I think both are correct.” Aphrodite grimaced and pressed her hand over the damp washcloth that Darius had wetted and folded across her bloody, weeping eyes while she reclined on the gold-trimmed velvet chaise lounge in the sitting room off her bedchamber. Like me, after we established our new High Council, she’d relocated from the girl’s dorm to the castle-like stone building that housed the professors’ quarters, dining hall, and, on the first floor, the House of Night administrative offices. Also like me, she’d totally redecorated her living area. Unlike me, she hadn’t let Damien spearhead her project, but had hired a team of very chic and very expensive designers and told them to “turn these antiquated, depressing rooms into something that oozes bordello chic mixed with Louis XIV.” They’d done an awesome job, even if all the gold they used did sometimes blind me and give me a headache.

Just kidding.

Sorta.

“We have to tell him,” I repeated.

“It’s going to hurt and confuse him, Z,” Stark said.

I sighed. “I know that, but we’re not kids anymore. We’re the ones making adult decisions for all the North American vampyres. And by ‘we,’ I mean my Council, and that includes Damien. Of course it’s going to hurt him, but we know what happens when we keep secrets from each other.”

“Disaster. And, let me add that disaster is what I saw in that vision—of the zombie apocalypse kind. Damien caused it. I don’t mean on purpose, but he ran instead of closing the circle.” Aphrodite turned her face in my direction, aiming her blind frown at me. “You told him to. Uh, Z. Just by-the-by, if zombies are pouring out of a blood fountain or whatever, and you’ve cast a circle that let them in—close the damn circle before you start screaming at people to flee.”

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind,” I said, trying not to be offended that she was basically telling me that I’d messed up as bad as Damien.

Suddenly Aphrodite sat up straight, holding the gold washcloth tightly against her closed eyes. “Holy shit! I just realized where I was.”

“You mean during the vision?” I asked.

She started to nod vigorously, then stopped with a moan, clutching her temples as the bloody washcloth fell from her face to expose the tracks of scarlet tears that still seeped from beneath her closed lids. “Fuck, that hurts. But yeah, during the vision. It was Woodward Park—by Neferet’s grotto. I recognize it now that I’m out of all that panic and confusion. Damien was backing for the stone stairs when Jack pulled himself out of the bloody, disgusting fountain thing.” She shuddered. “He was below where we were standing when I had the vision. Right by the wall.”

“Damn, this keeps getting worse and worse!” Stark cursed.

“Did you get any sense of Neferet? Tendrils of Darkness? Anything slithering around at all?”

“No, but I think that was covered before the vision. Those rose bushes were definitely tendril-like. As for the actual vision? Unless Damien noticed I probably wouldn’t have. Plus, you have to remember the state of panic he was in, which means I was in the same state of panic. It’s really hard to think when your body is filled with adrenaline, hysterical and dying.”

“You have no idea why Damien and I were at the grotto?”

“None at all, except that I’m about 95 percent sure that you two had cast a circle.”

“Was anyone else there?” Stark asked.

“No. Well, maybe. Sorry. I can’t say for sure.”

“This could have to do with what Kalona was warning me about,” I said. “Aphrodite’s visions aren’t always literal. Maybe this was one of the more metaphoric visions, initiated by whatever Kalona sensed. It could have been symbolic for something. Could you tell?” I asked her.

She started to shake her head, and then grimaced in pain, holding herself very still. “No. But I can tell you that it felt just like it does every time I have a death vision. I’m inside the person who’s dying. It’s confusing, terrifying, painful, and not particularly helpful because I have to try to sift through all of those awful emotions quickly, before the person I’m attached to either dies or I’m sucked out of them again.”

“What’s your gut say—literal or metaphor?” Stark asked.

“Literal. It didn’t have the feel of one of my dreamlike visions,” Aphrodite said. “Except I’m confused about Jack. He’s dead, right? I mean, there’s no way he could be lurking around the depot tunnels as a salivating, stinky, feral red fledgling, could he?”

I shook my head. “No, or at least I don’t see how that could be possible. I’ll fill Kramisha in when she’s done teaching and see if she can give us any insight. She’s totally redone those tunnels. I was there just a couple of days ago. They’re nice. Really nice, and filled with the red fledglings being bussed back and forth from there to here for school. It’s actually crowded enough that Kramisha and I were talking about getting Stevie Rae to open up some of the tunnels she sealed off last year next time she’s in town. I just don’t see how there could be any zombielike creatures creeping around down there.”