Redeemed (House of Night #12)(30)

No, Lynette believed Neferet wanted, needed, the illusion of being worshipped. So she’d threatened, nagged, and cajoled twelve decent-looking people into working for her.

Lynette could see that they were nervous—two of the women were trembling so badly she could she their arms shaking—but just as she’d instructed, the couples positioned themselves in a large circle and managed to be in place at the end of the first six count. At the beginning of the second set of notes, all twelve people looked up at Neferet, paused for three counts, and then as one, each man bowed and each woman curtsied to the Goddess.

Lynette saw their mistakes. Saw that the woman named Cindi almost fell over, and only her partner’s quick hand under her elbow saved her. Camden, the tall kid who had been best man at the wedding last night—and unlucky enough to have been too hungover to have made the dawn flight the bride and groom had caught to Dallas—held his bow far too long. Lynette gritted her teeth. If that spoiled frat boy messed this up, he was going to be sorrier than she was.

Lynette glanced at Neferet. Obviously pleased, the Goddess smiled and nodded her head regally in response to the performers.

Now just dance and don’t look too awkward! Lynette thought.

They danced. All twelve of them actually began on the same note and moved around the room in an almost circular pattern. They were far from perfect, but the music was lovely, and if some of the dancers faltered, “Blue Danube” remained true. When the final note ended, the six couples curtsied and bowed again to Neferet, this time holding their poses in a freeze frame that even Lynette had to admit was actually rather beautiful.

Neferet stood and, to Lynette’s immense relief, applauded and laughed.

“Well done, all of you! That was quite nice. Judson, open fresh bottles of champagne for these lovely supplicants.”

“Goddess, they are waiting for you to allow them to rise,” Lynette whispered to Neferet.

“Of course they are, and thank you for reminding me, dear Lynette. You may rise!” Neferet called down to them. “Enjoy your champagne and your Goddess’s gratitude for your worship.”

Lynette tapped her earpiece. “Kylee, tell the quartet to begin the next piece.” Within just a few moments, music filled the ballroom again.

“‘Waltz of the Flowers’ from The Nutcracker. Two lovely pieces and excellent choices,” Neferet said.

“So my surprise was pleasant?”

“It was. The candelabrum, the flowers, the tuxedos, and the red dresses—they were all thoughtfully chosen. Lynette, you have made a very good beginning as my event planner. I approve of your theme—exquisite music, a beautifully appointed space, and respectful homage being paid to me.”

“Then is it safe for me to assume you would like more events planned as such?”

“Yes, it would be, but next time choose to set the event in a theme of my favorite era—the 1920s. That was a decade worth reliving. Can you Charleston, Lynette?”

“Do I have access to the Internet?”

“Yes, you do, as well as a very generous event account,” Neferet said, smiling knowingly at Lynette.

“Then I can Charleston, and so can your supplicants.”

“We will need more musicians,” Neferet said.

“Yes, Goddess. I will make it so,” Lynette said, already tapping notes into her smartphone.

“And costumes. We will need many more costumes.”

“Of course, Goddess,” Lynette agreed.

“And I need more than just dancing, though that is a nice beginning.”

Lynette glanced from her notes to Neferet. The Goddess wasn’t looking at her. She was stroking the crystal champagne flute and staring down at the ballroom and the six couples who were milling in a little group, nervously accepting the champagne Judson was offering them. Lynette followed her gaze. The spoiled frat boy was downing what appeared to be his second glass of champagne. Neferet was devouring him with her eyes.

“It pleases me that my supplicants are so attractive,” she said.

Lynette’s sarcastic snort was automatic, but when the Goddess’s gaze snapped to her, she was instantly sorry she’d allowed her composure to slip.

Neferet raised an auburn brow. “Ah, I see. You chose the twelve of them carefully, because not all of my supplicants are so attractive—and that’s that truth, isn’t it.”

She didn’t frame the words as a question, but Lynette felt compelled to answer. “Yes, that is the truth.” She shifted her shoulders restlessly. “I’m sorry, Goddess. I just wanted to be sure that you were happy with this first, small event.”

“That is very understandable, dear Lynette. Actually, I appreciate your efforts, and while I appreciate all of my subjects, I also appreciate things—and people—that are pleasing to my senses.” Neferet leaned forward in her throne and spoke to Lynette in a conspirator’s voice. “You could add that to your duties as my event planner.”

“I’m willing to serve you in any way you require, Goddess.” Lynette tried to understand her meaning. “But what duties do you mean by ‘that’?”

“Making certain my supplicants always appear as attractive as possible, of course. Yes, I am quite sure you will have a talent for makeovers.”

“Makeovers.” Lynette repeated the word, feeling utterly overwhelmed as snapshots of some of Neferet’s less-than-attractive supplicants flashed through her memory. The fifty-something woman who needed to lose fifty-something pounds … the scrawny redheaded preteen whose face was already blotched with acne … the businessman who was bald and had a bulging gut and a triple chin that looked like a goiter …