Redeemed (House of Night #12)(15)

No one moved. No one met her gaze. Neferet sighed again and added, “I will not be feeding on any of those sixty volunteers.” A young woman raised a trembling hand. “Yes, my dear. What is your question?”

“Are—are you going to tell the snakes to go into our mouths?”

Neferet smiled sweetly at her. “No, I am not.”

“Th-then I’ll volunteer,” she said.

“Well done!” Neferet praised. “What is your name?”

“Staci.”

“No, I shall call you Gladys. That is a much more dignified name, don’t you think?”

The young girl’s head nodded jerkily.

“So, Gladys, move over to the left side of my offering chamber. Now, I want fifty-nine more people to be as enthusiastic as Gladys, and to join her.”

When no one else moved, Neferet filled her voice with anger and shouted, “Now!”

As if struck by a whip, a group of the humans bolted to join Gladys.

“Kylee, count them and let me know when I have sixty volunteers.”

With increasing impatience, Neferet waited. Finally, Kylee called, “There are sixty volunteers, Goddess.”

“Very good. Be a dear, Kylee, and take them to my penthouse. Have them wait on the balcony for my command. Oh, and open several cases of champagne. Pour generously. My volunteers must be rewarded!”

Looking confused but relieved, the sixty shuffled to the elevators. Neferet turned her attention to the remaining worshippers. They were staring up at her as if they were waiting for her to drop an enormous guillotine blade on them all.

“It would be easier to possess them all. Instructing modern humans on how to properly worship a Goddess is going to be unendingly tedious,” Neferet muttered to herself as she drummed her fingers against the iron railing.

A woman who was standing close enough to hear her took several steps toward the staircase and then, catching Neferet’s gaze, she sank into a deep, graceful curtsy. Neferet’s brows went up. She studied the woman, who remained in a curtsy, head respectfully bowed. She was older than Nancy had been, but not by much. And though she was tastefully dressed in a well-cut, expensive suit, she looked her age.

“You may rise,” Neferet finally said.

“Thank you, Goddess. May I have your permission to present myself to you?”

“You may, indeed,” Neferet said, thoroughly intrigued.

“I am Lynette Witherspoon, owner of Everlasting Expressions. I would like to offer my services to you.”

“Lynette. Yes, that name is inoffensive. You may keep it. And what exactly is Everlasting Expressions?”

“It is my company. I provide event planning, design, and coordination for a discriminating clientele,” she said.

Neferet appreciated the pride and confidence in her voice. “And what is it you propose to do for me?”

“Everything,” Lynette said firmly. She looked around the ballroom at the people huddled behind her before candidly meeting Neferet’s gaze. “I believe the worship of a Goddess is an ongoing event of major importance that should be smoothly and tastefully run. If you allow me, I can assure you that your worship will be one spectacular event after another.”

“Interesting…” Neferet mused. “Lynette, you will not mind if I take a brief and painless glimpse at your motives, will you?” Though she phrased it as a question, Neferet didn’t wait for Lynette’s response. She did move into the woman’s mind more gently than she had Nancy’s, though.

What she found made the Goddess smile. “Lynette, you are an opportunist.”

“Y-yes,” she said a little shakily after Neferet left her mind.

“And you loathe men.” Neferet’s smile widened.

“I am not divine, so I can only guess, but I think you understand that loathing,” Lynette said.

“I like you, Lynette. I will allow you to manage the planning of my worship.”

Lynette curtsied deeply again. “Thank you, Goddess.”

“And what is your first order of business?” Neferet was almost unbearably curious about what this unusual human intended.

“Well,” Lynette said, patting her chignon and studying the people who stood silently, stupidly behind her, “all events begin with two things—the correct clothing and the correct decorations.”

“I have only one requirement—dazzle me,” Neferet said.

“Yes, Goddess,” Lynette said respectfully.

“And you, my supplicants”—she gestured at the rest of the herd—“do whatever Lynette commands.” Neferet cut her eyes at Lynette and added, “As long as she doesn’t command you to try to leave my Temple.”

“I wouldn’t think of it, Goddess,” Lynette said quickly.

“Oh, my dear, you have thought of it. You just realized how unwise that thought was.”

Lynette bowed her head. “Touché, Goddess.”

“Now, I leave my subjects in your capable hands, Lynette. I am going to retire to my penthouse to prepare the—”

Neferet’s departure was interrupted by the tall bellman, Judson, calling from where he stood in front of the chained and locked front doors of the Mayo. “Goddess! The police are here!”

CHAPTER FIVE

Lynette