Redeemed (House of Night #12)(17)

“Neferet, I need to ask you some questions. Would you rather come down to the station than have me interview you here?”

Neferet’s sigh was one of exaggerated disappointment. “So there are to be no social niceties between us?”

“Under normal circumstances, I have no problem with social niceties, as you well know. You and I have worked amicably together before. But what happened in Tulsa yesterday was far from normal, and I don’t have time for much politeness.” He paused and gestured at Lynette. “And I think it’s pretty ironic that you’re complaining about social niceties when you’re holding a hostage in front of you.”

The pressure from Neferet’s fingernail was instantly gone, and the vampyre withdrew her hand from Lynette with an intimate caress of her cheek. “Detective, you are very mistaken. Lynette, are you my hostage?”

“No, Goddess,” she said, shaking her head and doing her best to act as if it was an everyday occurrence to be a human shield for a psychotic vampyre. “I am your willing supplicant.”

“There, you see. All is well. Lynette is simply here because she worships me. But why are you here, Detective Marx? Are the questions you are so curious about regarding Woodward Park or the Boston Avenue Church?”

Lynette saw the detective’s eyes narrow. “What do you know about the Boston Avenue Church?”

Neferet laughed. “Everything! Ask me a question, any question at all. Would you like to know how long that mewing excuse for a pastor screamed before I killed him, or why the councilman’s wife was missing her lovely white Armani suit, which was, coincidentally, just my size, when you found her drained, lifeless body outside the so-called sanctuary? You see, blood is very difficult to get out of fine linen.”

As Neferet was speaking, Lynette watched the change in the police. First, their faces registered shock, and then, as they drew their guns, revulsion and anger.

The detective’s gun pointed over Lynette’s right shoulder. “Lynette,” he called to her. “Walk directly to us. Keep your hands clear, where we can see them.”

Lynette knew it didn’t matter that Neferet wasn’t touching her. She had absolutely no choice. “No, thank you,” she said, managing somehow to keep her voice from shaking. “I’m happy staying here with the Goddess.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” one of the cops blurted. “She’s a f**king vampyre who murdered a church full of innocent people! She isn’t a goddess.”

“Lynette, I do not appreciate foul language. Do you?” Neferet asked.

Holding her breath, Lynette responded the only way she could. Shaking her head, she said, “No, I don’t.”

Neferet cocked her head to the side and studied the officer who had spoken. Lynette saw his body twitch. “Officer Jamison, does foul language fill your mind when you fantasize about your ten-year-old stepdaughter? How about when you watch her sleep and admit to yourself that you are mere days away from taking your desires for her from fantasies to reality?”

The color drained from the officer’s face. “That’s a f**king lie!” he sputtered.

“More profanity. Methinks the man doth protest too much,” Neferet said, then she spoke conspiratorially to Lynette. “It is a misquote, yet it seems to fit the situation well, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I do,” Lynette said, watching the officer closely. The man was red-faced and looked as if he could explode at any moment—and Lynette realized Neferet hadn’t been baiting him or making anything up. She’d slid into his mind and revealed his dirty little secret.

“You f**king bitch!” Officer Jamison yelled.

“That’s enough of that!” Detective Marx commanded the uniformed man, then he refocused on Lynette and Neferet, speaking in a clear, calm voice that made Lynette wish she could run from the vampyre’s insanity straight into his protection. “Lynette, if you choose to remain with Neferet, then you may also join her in a jail cell. Neferet, you are under arrest for the murder of the entire congregation of the Boston Avenue Church.”

Neferet’s laughter was humorless, cruel. “You cannot even get the charges against me correct, Detective.”

“You just confessed to those murders!” Marx said. He’d lost the professional objectivity his voice had maintained until then. With a terrible tightening in her stomach, Lynette realized the unbelievable truth—Neferet had slaughtered an entire church full of innocent people.

She had to grasp her hands together in front of her to keep them from trembling.

“You are so disappointingly narrow-minded, Detective Marx. What I did in the church wasn’t murder—it was sacrifice, and it was glorious! I do so wish you could have been there to bear witness to it, but had you been there, you wouldn’t be here to bear witness to the beginning of my reign. Oh, but I digress. Your charges are incorrect because they are incomplete. You forgot to add the little snack I made of your mayor a few nights earlier.”

Detective Marx’s face was a mask of loathing. “My gut said the House of Night vampyres were telling the truth when they said you were responsible for the mayor’s death.”

“For once, they were correct. But let me continue my confession. It is such a shame that there was no one yesterday at Woodward Park to witness my triumphant exit from my lovely, sheltering den and to watch me discover two deliciously stunned men who practically begged me to drain their blood from them.” The detective’s eyes widened and Neferet sneered. “I don’t know what is more unbelievable, that that simpering Zoey Redbird somehow deluded herself into thinking she’d killed the men, and then rushed to give her pathetic self up to you, or that you actually believed the insipid child had the will to kill. Either way, the situation doesn’t bode well for your skills of detection.”