"Zoey lives." Neferet's voice was flat, cold, lifeless.

"She does."

"Then you owe me the subservience of your immortal soul." She started to walk away from him, toward the rooftop exit.

"Where are you going? What will happen next?"

Disgusted by what she perceived as weakness in his voice, Neferet turned to him. She drew herself up tall and proud, and held out her arms so that the sticky threads that pulsed around her could brush her skin freely, caressingly.

"What will happen next? It is quite simple. I will ensure Zoey is drawn back to Oklahoma. There, on my own terms, I will complete the task you failed."

To her retreating back the immortal asked, "And what of me?"

Neferet paused and glanced over her shoulder. "You will return to Tulsa, too, only separately. I have need of you, but you cannot be with me publically. Do you not remember, my love, that you are a killer now? Heath Luck's death was your doing."

"Our doing," he said.

She smiled silkily. "Not according to the High Council." She met his eyes. "This is what is going to happen. I need you to regain your strength quickly. By dusk tomorrow I will have to report to the High Council that your soul has returned to your body, and that you confessed to me you killed the human boy because you thought his hatred for me a threat. I will tell them because you believed you were protecting me, I was merciful in your punishment. I only had you flogged one hundred strokes and then banished you from my side for one century."

Kalona struggled to sit. Neferet was pleased to see anger flash in his amber eyes.

"You expect to be bereft of my touch for a century?"

"Of course not. I will graciously allow you to return to my side after your wounds have healed. Until then I will still have your touch; it will simply be away from the prying eyes of the public."

His brow lifted. She thought how arrogant he looked, even weakened and defeated.

"How long do you expect me to skulk in the shadows, pretending to heal from nonexistent wounds?"

"I expect you to be absent from my side until your wounds do heal." With a quick, precise movement, Neferet brought her wrist to her lips and bit deeply, instantly drawing a circle of blood. Then she began to make a swirling motion with her uplifted arm, sifting through the air while sticky threads of Darkness slithered greedily around her wrist, attaching to the blood like leeches. She ground her teeth together, forcing herself to remain unflinching, even when the sharpness of the tentacles stabbed her over and over. When they seemed bloated enough, Neferet spoke softly, lovingly to them. "You've taken your payment. Now you must do my bidding." She looked from the throbbing strands of Darkness to her immortal lover. "Lash him deeply. One hundred times." Neferet hurled Darkness at Kalona.

The weakened immortal only had time to unfurl his wings and begin to vault for the edge of the castle's roof. The razor threads caught him midstride. They wrapped around his wings at the sensitive base where they met his spine. Instead of leaping from the rooftop he was trapped, pinned against the ancient stone of the balustrade while Darkness began to slowly, methodically, slice furrows into his naked back.

Neferet watched only until his proud, handsome head sagged in defeat and his body jerked convulsively with every cutting stroke.

"Do not mar him permanently. I plan to enjoy the beauty of his skin again," she said before turning her back on Kalona and walking purposefully from the blood-soaked rooftop.

"It seems I must do everything myself, and there is so much to do ... so much to do...," she whispered to the Darkness that flitted about her ankles. From the shadows within shadows Neferet thought she caught the outline of a massive bull watching her with approval and pleasure.

Neferet smiled.

Chapter Three

Zoey

For the zillionth time I thought about what an amazing place Sgiach's throne room was. She was an ancient vampyre queen, the Great Taker of Heads, uber-powerful and surrounded by her own personal Warriors known as Guardians. Hell, way back in the day she'd even taken on the Vampyre High Council and won, but her castle wasn't a nasty-outdoorplumbing-medieval- version-of-camping (gross).

Sgiach's castle was a fortress, but it was--as they say over here in Scotland--a posh castle. I swear the view from any of the sea-facing windows, but especially her throne room, is so incredible that it looks like it should be on HD TV and not in front of me, in real life.

"It's beautiful here." Okay, talking to myself-- especially so soon after being, well, kinda sorta crazy in the Otherworld--might possibly be a not- so-good idea. I sighed and shrugged. "Whatever. With Nala not here, Stark mostly out of it, Aphrodite doing stuff I'd rather not imagine with Darius, and Sgiach off doing something magickal or kicking ass in superhero-like training with Seoras, talking to myself seems like the only option."