Awakened

CHAPTER FIVE

“You ain’t yourself. You know that?”

Stevie Rae looked up at Kramisha. “All I’m doin’ is just sittin’ here, minding my own business.” She paused, letting the unlike you implication sink in. “How is that not being myself?”

“You picked the darkest, creepiest corner stuck all over here. You blew them candles out so it’d be even darker. And you sitting here moping so loud I can almost hear your thoughts.”

“You can’t hear my thoughts.”

The hard edge to Stevie Rae’s voice had Kramisha’s eyes widening. “ ’Course I can’t. They’s no need for you to get all huffy. I said almost. I ain’t Sookie Stackhouse. Plus, even if I was I wouldn’t listen in to your thoughts. That’d be rude and my mama raised me better than that.” Kramisha sat next to Stevie Rae on the little wooden bench. “Speaking of—am I the only one who thinks that werewolf is hotter than Bill and Eric put together?”

“Kramisha, do not mess up season three of True Blood for me. I haven’t finished my DVDs of season two.”

“Well, I’m just sayin’, prepare for some serious four-footed hotness.”

“Seriously. Don’t you dare tell me anything else.”

“Okay—okay, but the whole wolf-monster-hotness-guy thing is somethin’ I need to talk to you ’bout.”

“This bench is made of wood. Wood equals earth. Which means I can probably figure out a way to make it smack the living crap right outta you if you mess up True Blood for me.”

“Would you please relax? I’m already offa that. I got somethin’ else we gotta discuss before we go into what I know is gonna be one majorly boring Council Meeting.”

“It’s part of what we gotta do. I’m a High Priestess. You’re a Poet Laureate. We have to go to the Council Meetings.” Stevie Rae let out a long puff of air and felt her shoulders slump. “Dang, I’ll be glad when Z gets back here tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that. What I don’t get is what’s got you so messed up in the head you seem turned inside out.”

“My boyfriend has lost his dang mind and disappeared off the face of the earth. My best friend almost died in the Otherworld. The red fledglings—the other ones—are still out there somewhere doin’ Bubba-knows-what, which I’m pretty sure means eating people. And to top it all off I’m supposed to be a High Priestess, even though I’m not even sure what all that means. I think that’s enough to mess up anyone’s head.”

“Yeah, it is. But it ain’t enough to keep givin’ me weird-assed poems that all have the same freaky theme. They about you and beasts, and I want to know why.”

“Kramisha, I do not know what you’re talkin’ ’bout.”

Stevie Rae started to stand up, but Kramisha reached into her huge bag and pulled out a piece of violet-colored paper that had her bold writing scrawled across it. With another heavy exhale of breath, Stevie Rae sat down and held out her hand.

“Fine. Let me see.”

“I wrote ’em both on this paper. The old one and the new one. Somethin’ told me you might need your memory refreshed.”

Stevie Rae didn’t say anything. Her eyes went to the first poem on the paper. She took her time reading it. Not because she needed her memory refreshed. She didn’t. Every line of the poem had been burned into her mind.

The Red One steps into the Light

girded loins for her part in

the apocalyptic fight.

Darkness hides in different forms

See beyond shape, color, lies

and emotional storms.

Ally with him; pay with your heart

though trust cannot be given

unless the Darkness you part.

See with the soul and not your eyes

because to dance with beasts you

must penetrate their disguise.

Stevie Rae told herself she wouldn’t cry, but her heart felt bruised and broken. The poem had been right. She’d seen Rephaim with her soul, not with her eyes. She’d parted Darkness and trusted and accepted him—and because of that, because she’d allied herself with a beast, she had paid with her heart. She was still paying with her heart.

Reluctantly, Stevie Rae looked to the second poem on the page—the new one. Reminding herself not to react, not to let her face give away anything, she started reading:

Beasts can be beautiful

Dreams become desires

Reality changes with reason

Trust your truth

Man … monster … mystery … magick

Hear with your heart

See without scorn

Love will not lose

Trust his truth

His promise is proof

The test is time

Faith frees

If there is courage to change.

Stevie Rae’s mouth felt dry. “Sorry, I can’t help you. I don’t know what these things are about.” She tried to hand the piece of paper back to Kramisha, but the poet’s hands were folded across her chest.

“You ain’t a good liar, Stevie Rae.”

“It’s not smart to call your High Priestess a liar.” There was an edge of meanness to Stevie Rae’s voice that had Kramisha shaking her head.

“What’s happenin’ to you? You dealing with somethin’ that’s eatin’ you from the inside out. If you was yourself, you’d be talkin’ to me. You’d be trying to figure this out.”

“I can’t figure out this poetry stuff! It’s metaphor and symbolism and weird, confusing predictions.”

“That’s a damn lie,” Kramisha said. “We been figuring this stuff out. Zoey has. You and I did, or at least we did enough to get word to Z in the Otherworld. And it helped. Stark said it did.” Kramisha pointed at the first poem. “Some of this one came true. You met the beasts. Those bulls. You been different ever since. Now I been given another one of them beast poems. I know they for you. And I know you know more than you sayin’.”

“Look, stay outta my business, Kramisha.” Stevie Rae stood up, stepped out of the alcove, and as she walked right into Dragon Lankford she yelled back at Kramisha, “I’m done talking ’bout this beast stuff!”

“Hey, whoa, what’s this about?” Dragon’s strong hand steadied Stevie Rae when she stumbled because of their collision. “Did you say beast stuff?”

“She did.” Kramisha pointed at the notebook page in Stevie Rae’s hand. “Two poems come to me, one the day Stevie Rae tangled with them bulls, and the second just a little while ago. She don’t want to pay them no mind.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to pay them any mind. I just want to take care of my own business my own self without every dang body in the universe nosing around.”

“Do you consider me every dang body?” Dragon asked.

Stevie Rae forced herself to meet his gaze. “No, ’course not.”

“And you are in agreement with me that Kramisha’s poems are important.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then you can’t just ignore them.” Dragon rested his hand on Stevie Rae’s shoulder. “I know how it feels to want to keep your life private, but you’ve stepped into a position where there are more important things than your privacy.”

“I know that, but I can deal with this myself.”

“You didn’t deal with the bulls,” Kramisha said. “They still happened.”

“They’re gone, aren’t they? So I did deal with them just fine.”

“I remember seeing you after your battle with the bull. You were gravely injured. Had you understood Kramisha’s warning the cost to you might not have been so great. And then there is the fact that a Raven Mocker appeared, and he might even be the creature Rephaim. That monster is still out there somewhere and a danger to all of us. So, you must understand, young priestess, that a forewarning meant for you cannot be kept private because it touches the lives of others.”

Stevie Rae stared into Dragon’s eyes. His words were strong. His tone was kind. But was that suspicion and anger she saw in his expression, or was it just the grief that had been shadowing him since the death of his wife?

While she hesitated, Dragon continued, “A beast killed Anastasia. We cannot allow any other innocent to be touched by these creatures of Darkness if we can prevent it. You know I speak truth, Stevie Rae.”

“I-I know,” she stuttered, trying to order her words. Rephaim killed Anastasia the night Darius shot him from the sky. No one will ever forget that—I can never forget that, especially now that things have changed. It’s been weeks and I haven’t seen him. At all. Our Imprint is still there. I can feel it, but I haven’t felt anything from him.

And that lack of feeling made the decision for Stevie Rae. “Okay, you’re right. I need help with this.” Maybe this is the way it was meant to be, she thought as she handed Dragon the poems. Maybe Dragon will discover my secret, and when he does it will all be destroyed: Rephaim, our Imprint, and my heart. But at least it’ll be over.

As Dragon read the poetry Stevie Rae watched his expression get darker. When he finally looked from the page and into her eyes, there was no mistaking his worry.

“The second bull you conjured, the black one that vanquished the evil bull, what type of connection did you have with him?”

Stevie Rae tried not to show how relieved she was that Dragon was focusing on the bulls and not questioning her about Rephaim.

“I don’t know if you could really call it a connection, but I thought he was beautiful. He was black, but there was no Darkness about him. He was incredible—like the night sky, or the earth.”

“The earth…” Dragon seemed to be thinking aloud. “If the bull reminds you of your element, perhaps that is enough for the two of you to remain connected.”

“But we know he’s good,” Kramisha said. “They’s no mystery ’bout that. The poems can’t be talkin’ ’bout him.”

“So?” Stevie Rae couldn’t hide her irritation. Kramisha was like a dang dog with a soup bone. She just wouldn’t leave it alone.

“So, the poem, ’specially the last one, is all about trusting the truth. We already know he’s good. You can trust the black bull. Why do you need a poem to tell you that?”

“Kramisha, like I tried to tell you before, I do not know.”

“I just don’t think they’s talkin’ ’bout the black bull,” Kramisha said.

“What else could they be talkin’ about? I don’t know any other beasts.” Stevie Rae said the words fast, as if speed could take away the lie.

“You said Dallas has an unusual new affinity, and that he has seemed to go mad. Is that correct?” Dragon asked.

“Yeah, basically,” Stevie Rae said.

“The beast reference could be symbolic of Dallas. The poem might mean that you need to trust the humanity that is still within him,” Dragon said.

“I don’t know about that,” Stevie Rae said. “He was one hot mess and super crazy last time I saw him. I mean he was saying some seriously weird stuff about that Raven Mocker he saw.”

“Council Meeting is being called to session!” Lenobia’s voice drifted down the hallway from the open door to the Council Chamber.

“Do you mind if I keep this?” Dragon lifted the piece of paper as they started down the hall. “I’ll copy it, and then return it to you, but I’d like a chance to study and consider the poetry more thoroughly.”

“Yeah, that’s okay with me,” Stevie Rae said.

“Well, I’m glad we got your brain workin’ on this, Dragon,” Kramisha said.

“Me, too,” Stevie Rae said, trying to sound like she was telling the truth.

Dragon paused. “I won’t share this with everybody, only those vampyres I believe could help us understand the poetry’s meaning. I understand your wish for privacy.”

“I’ll tell Zoey about it as soon as she gets back tomorrow,” Stevie Rae said.

Dragon frowned. “I do think you should share the poetry with Zoey, but sadly, she will not be returning to the House of Night tomorrow.”

“What? Why not?”

“Apparently Stark isn’t well enough to travel, so Sgiach has given them permission to remain on Skye indefinitely.”

“Did Zoey tell you that?” Stevie Rae couldn’t believe her BFF had called Dragon and not her. What was Z thinking?

“No, she and Stark spoke with Jack.”

“Oh, the Celebration Ritual.” Stevie Rae nodded in understanding. Z hadn’t been keeping anything from her. Jack had been uber-exuberant about the Ritual he’d appointed himself in charge of music, food, and decorations for—he’d probably called her with an entire list of questions like: What’s your favorite color? and Doritos or Ruffles?

“Gay boy is majorly obsessed. I bet he lost his damn mind when he found out Z ain’t comin’ home tomorrow.”

“Actually, he’s using the extra time to keep practicing that song he wants to sing, and he’s decorating,” Dragon said.

“Goddess help us,” Kramisha said. “If he tries to hang rainbows and unicorns everywhere and make all of us wear them feather boas—again—I’m just gonna say ‘ah hell no.’ ”

“Origami swords,” Dragon said.

“Excuse me?” Stevie Rae was sure she couldn’t have heard him right.

Dragon chuckled. “Jack came by the Field House and borrowed a claymore so he could have a real example to work from. In honor of Stark, he’s going to use origami swords hung with fishing line. He said they’ll look like the song.”

“ ’Cause they’ll be defying gravity.” Stevie Rae couldn’t help giggling. She did heart her some Jack. He was just too cute for words.

“I hope he don’t do them in pink paper. That just ain’t right.”

They’d reached the door to the Council Chamber, and before they entered the already full room, Stevie Rae heard Dragon say, “Not pink. Purple. I saw him carrying a ream of purple paper.”

Stevie Rae was still grinning when Lenobia called the Council Meeting to order. In the days that followed, she would remember her grin and wish she could hold on to the image of Jack making purple swords out of paper and singing “Defying Gravity,” eternally looking on the bright side of life, eternally sweet, eternally happy, and, most important, eternally safe.