Neferet's Curse (House of Night Novellas #3)(40)

I’d shaken my head, not truly understanding. “But, Arthur and I—”

“Emily, I wish you well, but this is all too much for me. I cannot, will not, have such things in my life.” And Arthur Simpton had turned and fled back to his parents’ house.

The vampyre moved to me and with grace and preternatural strength, he lifted me in his arms and said, “Leave him and the pain of your old life behind you, Emily. There is healing and acceptance waiting for you at the House of Night.”

That is how I came to finish the record of what happened to me this horrible, wonderful night. The vampyre carried me to a black carriage, drawn by four perfectly matched black mares. The seats inside were black velvet. There were no lights at all, and I welcomed the darkness, finding comfort in it.

The carriage took us to a palace made truly of marble, and not the weak pretence of stone that the humans of Chicago had created for their fair.

As we drove through the gate in the thick, high walls, a woman met me on the front stairs. She, too, had a sapphire crescent tattoo in the middle of her forehead, and markings surrounding it. She waved joyously, but when the carriage stopped and the vampyre Tracker had to lift me from within, she hurried to me. She shared a long look with the other vampyre before turning her mesmerizing gaze on me. She touched my face gently and said, “Emily, I am your mentor, Cordelia. You are safe here. No man will ever harm you again.”

Then she took me to a sumptuous private infirmary, bathed and bandaged my body, and bade me to drink wine laced with something warm and metallic tasting.

I still sip on the dark drink as I write. My body aches, but my mind is my own again. And I find, as always, I am learning …

May 8th, 1893

Emily Wheiler’s Journal

Neferet’s Journal

Entry the first and last

I have decided. I have made my choice. This will be my last journal entry. In my retelling of the end of Emily Wheiler’s story and the beginning of Neferet’s wondrous new life, I complete what I began here in these pages six months ago.

I am not mad.

The horrible events that befell me and that are recorded in these pages did not happen because of hysteria or paranoia.

The horrible events that befell me happened because, as a young human girl, I had no control over my own life. Envious women condemned me. A weak man rejected me. A monster abused me. All because I lacked the power to affect my own fate.

Whatever this new life as a fledgling and, I can only hope, a fully Changed vampyre brings me, I make one promise to myself: I will never allow anyone to gain control over me again. No matter the cost—I will choose my own fate.

That is why last night I killed him. He used and abused me. When he did that he had full control over me. I had to kill him to regain that control. No one will ever harm me without suffering equal or more in return. I pretend to Cordelia and the School Council that I hadn’t intended to kill him, that he had forced me into it, but that is not the truth. Here in these final pages of my journal, I will tell only the truth.

And then the truth will be buried with this book, and with it I bury my past.

Even my mentor, Cordelia, a High Priestess who has power and beauty in equal measure, and who has been in the service of the Goddess of Night, Nyx, for almost two centuries, does not understand my need to balance the scales of my life. The night after I’d been Marked and entered the House of Night, I’d left the infirmary and she’d shown me to my new bedchamber—a beautiful, spacious room that, because of my wounded body, I had to myself. There she tried to talk with me about him.

“Emily, what that man did to you was abominable. I want you to listen closely to me. You are in no way to blame for the violence he did to you,” she’d said.

“I don’t believe that’s how he and his friends would see it,” I’d said.

“Human law and vampyre law are not one in the same. Humans have no jurisdiction over us.”

“Why?” I’d asked.

“Because humans and vampyres are not the same. There are, indeed, more of them than us, but we few hold greater wealth and power as individuals than they can ever hope to attain. We are stronger, smarter, more talented, and more beautiful. Without vampyres, their world would be nothing more than a snuffed candle.”

“But, what if he comes after me?”

“He will be stopped. That man will never harm you again. You have my oath on that.” Cordelia hadn’t raised her voice, but I could feel the power of the anger in her words brush across my skin, and I believed her.

“But what if I want to go after him?”

“To what end?”

“To make him pay for what he did to me!”

Cordelia had sighed. “Emily, we cannot imprison him any more than he can apprehend one of us.”

“I don’t want him imprisoned!” I’d shouted.

“What is it you want?”

I’d almost admitted the truth to her, but there was something about her serene gaze and the honesty in her beautiful face that stayed my words. I hadn’t made my choice yet, but instinct told me to keep my deepest thoughts and desires to myself, and that is exactly what I did.

“I want him to admit he is a monster, and that what he did to me was wrong,” I’d said instead.

“And you think that would help you heal?”

“Yes.”