Burned (House of Night #7)(47)

"Where're we going?" Stark started following her but kept glancing back over his shoulder at Zoey.

"Hey, you gotta snap out of it. You said it yourself: Zoey's not here . So stop gawking at her like you're a little lost puppy."

"I love her! Do you even know what the hell that means?"

Aphrodite stopped and turned to face him. "Love doesn't have shit to do with it. You're her Warrior.

That means more than 'I heart Zoey,' " she said sarcastically, using air quotes. "I have my own Warrior, so I do know what that means, and here's the truth: if my soul was shattered, and I was stuck in the Otherworld, I wouldn't want Darius to boo-hoo about it and be all heartbroken. I'd want him to get the hell to work and figure out how to do his job, which is to stay alive and protect me so that I can figure out a way to get home ! Now are you coming or not?" She flipped her hair, turned her back to him, and started twitching down the hall.

Stark closed his mouth and went after her. They walked silently for a while as Aphrodite led him down some stairs, around increasingly narrow corridors, and down more stairs.

"Where are we going?" Stark asked again.

"Well, it feels like a dungeon. Smells like mold and kinda weird b.o., the institutional decor is suitable for either a prison or a hospital psych ward, and it makes Damien think he's died and gone to dork heaven.

So take a guess."

"We're going back to human high school?"

"Close," she said, her lips lifting in a hint of a smile. "We're going to a really old library filled with the frantically studying nerd herd."

Stark let out a long breath in a loud sigh to keep himself from laughing. Sometimes he almost liked Aphrodite - not that he'd ever admit it.

Stark

Aphrodite had been right - the basement of the palace did remind him of a tacky public school media center, minus the foldout windows and cheap, ratty mini-blinds, which was weird as hell because the rest of San Clemente Island was over-the-top rich. Down in the basement, though, there were just a bunch of worn wooden tables, hard benches, bare white stone walls, and tons and tons of shelves filled with a zillion different sizes, shapes, and styles of books.

Zoey's friends were clustered around one big table that was overflowing with books, pop cans, crumpled bags of chips, and one humongous tub full of red licorice whips. Stark thought they look tired but totally wired on sugar and caffeine. As he and Aphrodite walked up, Jack was holding up a large leather book and pointing to an illustration.

"Check it out - this is a copy of a painting of a Greek High Priestess named Calliope. It says she was also the Poet Laureate after Sappho. Doesn't she look exactly like Cher?"

"Wow, that's insane. She does look just like young Cher," Erin said.

"Yeah, before she started wearing those white wigs. What the hell's up with that?" Shaunee said.

Damien gave the Twins a look . "There is nothing wrong with Cher. Absolutely. Nothing."

"Uh-oh," Shaunee said.

"Stepped on a g*y nerve," Erin agreed.

"I had a Cher Barbie doll. I loved that doll," Jack said.

"Barbies, herd of nerd? Seriously? You're supposed to be saving Z, remember?" Aphrodite said, shaking her head in disgust and curling up her lip at the licorice whips.

"We've been at it all day. We're just taking a little break. Thanatos and Darius went out for more food,"

Damien said. "We have made some headway, but I'll wait until they get back to report everything." He waved at Stark, and his "hi" was echoed by the other kids.

"Yeah, don't be so judgmental, Aphrodite. We've been working hard, you'll see."

"You're talking about dolls," Aphrodite said.

"Barbies," Jack corrected her. "And just for a second. Plus, Barbies are cool and an important part of American culture." He nodded in emphasis and clutched the "Cher" portrait to his chest. "Especially celebrity Barbies."

"Celebrity Barbies would only be important if they had interesting accoutrements you could buy with them," Aphrodite said.

"Accoutre-whats?" Shaunee said.

"You sound like you swallowed a French guy and are trying to spit him out," Erin said, and the Twins giggled.

"Left and right brain - listen up. Interesting accoutrements equals cool stuff, like unusual accessories,"

Aphrodite said, picking delicately at a chip.

"Okay, if you don't know anything about Barbies, your mother seriously hated you," Erin said.

"Not that we don't understand that," Shaunee added.

" 'Cause everyone who even had one Barbie knows you can buy stuff for them," Erin finished.

"Yeah, cool stuff," Jack agreed.

"Not cool by my definition," Aphrodite said with a superior smirk.

"What's cool by your definition?" Jack asked, making Shaunee and Erin groan.

"Well, since you asked - I'd say it would be cool if Barbie made a Barbra Streisand doll, but you'd have to buy her fingernails and nose separately. And her fake nails would come in lots of different color choices."

There was a shocked silence, and then Jack, sounding awed, whispered, "That would be cool."

Aphrodite looked smug. "And how about a bald Britney Spears doll that had extras like an umbrella, a fat suit, weird wigs, and, of course, optional panties."