14
Zoey
“First, before we go up there I want you to take a look around,” I told Jack. Stark had tied his hands behind his back and was keeping ahold of the end of the length of rope he’d used. I’d paused just before the stairway and turned, pointing at the neat basement and the cozy guest rooms. “Does your House of Night have all of this?”
Jack looked around, then he shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been down here. I didn’t even know there was a basement under the Field House.”
“Well, that’s not unusual. We didn’t know about it, either, until last year,” Damien said.
“I agree, but I’m making a point. Remember this, Jack. This will just be the first of a bunch of differences.”
He nodded slightly and we went up the stairs, turning into the hallway that connected the Equestrian Center and the Field House with the main House of Night building.
“Hang on.” The hallway was deserted, but when I peeked through the window into the school’s beautiful courtyard, I noticed students were still straggling to their dorms. And by straggling, I mean they were messing around making snow angels and having snowball fights—as they moved in the general direction of the dorms. “Stark, give Jack your hoodie.” Stark frowned at me. “Do you want someone to recognize him? We don’t have time to answer questions right now, and we don’t need a bunch of gossip going around the school.”
Stark sighed, but he quickly untied Jack’s hands, pulled his hoodie off, and tossed it to Jack, who put it on.
“Pull the hood up and cover as much of your face as you can,” I told him, which he did without complaining. “Okay, what do you want to see, Jack?”
Jack looked surprised.
“I don’t want you saying that you only saw what we wanted you to see, or any other garbage like that. So, where do you want to go?”
“Where I was just a few hours ago—the auditorium. Neferet spoke to the Red Army. I’m only in the beginning of my Warrior training, but they let me attend her speech before I went to my fencing lesson in the Field House.”
“Does our Field House look the same?” I asked as Damien said, at the same moment, “Warrior training? You?”
Jack gave Damien a look that was hard for me to read. I thought he looked sad, and even a little scared, and very much like he might want to say something to Damien, but his expression flattened to become as emotionless as his voice. “Yeah, I’m in Warrior training like the rest of the red fledglings. And I guess the Field House looks pretty much the same, but the stuff is put up.”
“Stuff?” Stark asked.
“The weapons. They’re usually out and hanging all over the walls of the Field House. But now they’re down in the basement.”
“Let’s go to the auditorium,” I said.
We started walking in silence. I could feel Damien staring at Jack. I knew he couldn’t help it, and my heart ached for him. What would I do if Heath suddenly showed up?
We were about halfway to the auditorium when Jack stopped. He stared out the hallway window to the courtyard where fledglings and human students still played around in the snow while House of Night cats frolicked about them. And by frolic, I mean they twined around their legs and caused fledglings to trip over their own feet. I saw Maleficent yowl at a kid like she’d just had her fat, fluffy tail tromped on and broken into a million pieces—the unsuspecting fledgling shrieked and lunged back, falling on her butt, while Maleficent groomed herself smugly. (I sighed internally—making a note to myself to get back on the intercom and tell the fledglings to get to their dorms, and take the cats with them.)
“If you have humans to use as refrigerators, why do I have to drink stale blood from a glass?” Jack’s voice was hard—almost mean, which sounded super strange coming from him.
“Do not ever call them refrigerators.” I shared a look with Aphrodite, knowing she’d take over from there. There’s nothing quite like the righteous indignation of someone who has made mistakes and learned from them.
“They’re students, people, and they take classes here,” Aphrodite said. “We never call them refrigerators.”
“And we don’t ever let fledglings or vampyres—no matter what color—feed from ’em. That crap ended when Z took charge,” Stevie Rae said.
“Yeah, grow some compassion and get a clue, Other Jack,” Aphrodite finished.
Other Jack was blinking in disbelief at the mixed group of fledglings and human teenagers rolling snowballs to make a giant something that might be a dragon—or a dog. Or possibly a big-snouted cat.
“Human teenagers can take classes at the Tulsa House of Night,” I explained. “We’re mostly working with the art departments at Tulsa Public, BA, Union, and Jenks. It’s only been in place for a semester, but the classes are already full for next year and Bixby and Coweta have shown interest in joining the program.”
“And we’re expandin’ our human transfer program nationwide,” Stevie Rae continued. “It makes for great PR. I mean, prejudice feeds on ignorance and fear. If the only interaction humans have with vamps is on the big screen, or when they buy a piece of our art—well, that doesn’t make for much give and take, or understanding, right?”
Jack had gone from gawking at the kids outside to staring at Stevie Rae. “You’re telling me humans are free here?”
“Uh, yeah. That’s exactly what I’m tellin’ you, but I don’t know why I need to tell ya that. It’s just normal stuff. Sheesh,” she said. “Tell him, Rephaim.”
“I’ve never even heard the word refrigerator used for a human,” Rephaim said. “That’s just wrong.”
“Who are you?” Jack said.
“He’s Rephaim. He and our Jack were friends,” Stevie Rae said.
“He used to be a Raven Mocker. He still turns into a bird from sunrise to sunset,” Aphrodite said. At Jack’s startled expression, she just grinned. “Exactly my reaction to Bird Boy.”
“None of this is normal,” Jack said.
“All of it is,” Damien said softly, and I wondered how such a sweet, sad voice could cut so deeply. “You’re the one who isn’t normal, Other Jack.”
Jack shook his head slightly and closed his mouth.
“Ready to continue?” I asked.
He nodded. We continued down the hallway, and Jack continued to shoot bemused glances out at the kids playing together in the snow. My mind raced as I thought about what he’d revealed. Humans weren’t free wherever he came from. And Neferet controlled two armies. None of that sounded good.
The hallway emptied into the entrance to the main House of Night building with the administrative offices on one side and multiple entrances to the auditorium on the other.
“Hang on.” I opened the door to the admin offices and stuck my head in, calling to Nicole and Shaylin. “Did anyone answer yet?”
“No, sorry,” Shaylin said.
“Keep trying.” I rejoined my group. “Okay, let’s go in the auditorium.” I opened the door and stepped to one side. “After you and Stark.”
Jack marched into the auditorium like he knew exactly what to expect—and stopped like he’d run into a brick wall. He stared—with an even more shocked expression than he’d had when he gawked at the human kids. Damien started to step forward, but I silently raised my hand, staying him. Jack needed to figure out the truth on his own. It was the only way we’d have a shot at getting the information we needed from him.
Finally, Jack turned to face me. “Those portraits. Where did they come from?”
I glanced into the dimly lit auditorium. I knew what he was asking about. Lining the walls were huge original oil portraits of famous vampyre actresses, actors, and singers who were from Oklahoma, like Brad Pitt, Alfre Woodard, Blake Shelton, Megan Mullally, and Kristin Chenoweth—just to name a few. You see, people don’t really get that Oklahoma seems to breed talent. Sure, a bunch of it leaves. But still. Talent. It’s a serious mistake to underestimate any Okie.
“They’re commissioned by the school. They’re not from one artist. The star gets to choose his or her favorite artist. Don’t tell Erik, but if he wins the Golden Globe he’s nominated for, the Council is going to vote that he be the subject of the next portrait.”
“I’m going in there.” Jack walked straight up to the closest portrait. It was an older one of Blake Shelton, commissioned in 2011 after his album Red River Blue went platinum. (I only know that because the dates are on each of the plaques—I’m not the country music expert. That’s Stevie Rae’s thing.)
I was standing there, thinking about how much I heart one of Blake’s classics, “Honey Bee,” even though I’m more of a Zayn kind of girl, when Jack lifted his tied hands, grabbed the bottom of the ornate gold frame and tried to tug it off the wall.
“Hey! He’s tryin’ to mess up Blake’s picture!” Stevie Rae shouted.
Stark shoved Jack away from the painting saying, “What the hell?”
“They’re bolted to the wall,” Jack said.
“Uh, yeah. Just like they’ve always been,” Stevie Rae said as she marched to the portrait and studied it to be sure he hadn’t damaged it.
“And those museum-light things are bolted above them, too, in case you want to get a ladder and check them out,” I said.
“But your luck on ladders isn’t good,” Aphrodite said. “I’d skip that part, if I were you.”
“Aphrodite!” Damien gasped.
“What? It’s the truth. And, anyway, it wasn’t this Jack that fell off the ladder. This is Other Jack, not Jack Jack. You really need to keep them straight, Damien.”
Other Jack walked slowly back to the rest of us, still hanging out in the doorway. He was thinking so hard I could practically see the little gerbils scurrying around inside his head.
“Those portraits can’t just be taken down and put back up in a few hours,” he said.
“Nope,” I said. “This is how the auditorium—our auditorium—looks. I’m assuming it’s different than the one you were in just a few hours ago?”
Jack opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. He was staring over my shoulder, open-mouthed. His already pale face had lost every bit of color it had almost had.
“Zoey—there you are. I need an update on what went on at Woodward Park. And what’s happening at the restaurant? Travis and I tried to change our reservation and—”
“Lenobia! You’re alive!” Jack tried to run to her, but Stark kept a tight hold on the rope that bound his hands in front of him.
Lenobia’s beautiful gray eyes went wide with shock. “Jack? My Goddess! Is it really you?”
“Not out here,” I said. “Let’s go in the auditorium and shut the doors.”
We all filed in, with Lenobia still gaping at Jack. As soon as the doors were securely closed, words spilled from Other Jack.
“But they killed you! I saw it. You and Travis. And your horses.” Other Jack had to pause then and look away from her to collect himself. But it was like he couldn’t stop looking at her because his gaze found her again right away. “I didn’t tell on you. I swear it. You were my favorite professor. I would never have told on you.”
Lenobia was still staring at Other Jack, but she spoke to me. “Zoey, who is this, why does he smell so foul, and what the hell is he talking about?”
“Remember Aphrodite’s vision?”
“Of course.”
“Well, it wasn’t metaphoric. This is Other Jack. He came through the bloody fountain thing. Along with a horde of really creepy, dangerous red vampyres. They all smell bad—like Stevie Rae and the other red fledglings used to before Aphrodite sacrificed her humanity for them. You can’t reach the Depot Restaurant because they attacked it. Aphrodite tased Other Jack. That’s why he’s here. We’re trying to convince him that he’s not in the same world he was in earlier today—a world where Neferet is High Priestess and is in charge of two vampyre armies, a red one and a blue one. And, apparently, humans are used as refrigerators in his world. There. You’re pretty much caught up.”
“You were part of the rebels,” Jack repeated, looking a little less shell-shocked than he had when Lenobia had first appeared. “Is—is Persephone still alive?”
“Um, yeah,” I said. “I rode her yesterday.”
He deflated, sitting heavily on one of the cushy velvet theater seats. “I’m glad. I’m really glad. And the rest of the horses, like Bonny, Mujaji, Anjo. They’re all okay?”
“Of course,” Lenobia said.
“Could I see them? Not this second. But would you mind if I visited the stables? Even if Stark keeps my hands tied.”
Lenobia looked haunted. “In the world you’re from, someone killed all of my horses.”
She didn’t ask it, but Jack answered. “Yes. I’m so sorry. Someone turned you in. You and Travis tried to escape. You—you didn’t make it. Neither did the horses.”
Lenobia’s gaze fell and she closed her eyes. I could see her lips move as she whispered an almost silent prayer. When she raised her face her eyes swam in tears that tracked down her cheeks. “I don’t know anything about rebels, or an army, be it red or blue, Jack Twist. In this world we fought to get rid of Neferet before her poison ruined us. I will tell you, though, that if I lived in a world where Neferet was in charge I swear on my life that I would step up and join anyone rebelling against her. My Travis would follow me. My horses would follow me. No matter the cost.”
“Truth,” Aphrodite said.
“Yep. No question ’bout it,” Stevie Rae agreed.
“We’re with Lenobia,” Rephaim said.
“Absolutely,” Damien said. “If a rebel is someone who fights against Neferet, then I’m a rebel.”
“Definitely,” Stark said. “We battled that bitch once and won. We’d do it again.”
“But we don’t have to,” I told Jack, meeting his gaze steadily. “Neferet isn’t in charge of anything here. She tried to take over the world and we stopped her. And there is no war against humans here because we stopped her.”
“There is no Neferet here,” Jack said slowly. “No armies, either?”
“None,” I said firmly. “There are only the Sons of Erebus Warriors, and their job is to protect the House of Night and its priestesses. They also protect the humans of our community. Like right now if you look out on the wall you’ll see Warriors patrolling. Those Warriors will allow any human who wants sanctuary into the school. We aren’t at war against anything except whatever those creatures are who came into this world with you.”
Other Jack got up and walked to me. Stark came with him, fully on alert.
“I’m convinced. This isn’t my world.”
I let out a long breath in relief. “Good. We have questions. A lot of questions.”
He nodded. “I’ll help you. Would you help me, too? Please?” Red-tinged tears spilled from his eyes.
“I don’t know if I can get you back to your world,” I said.
“I don’t want to go back. Ever. And I don’t want to lose myself and turn into a red vampyre. Please. Please. Help me.”