"They will," she said smoothly. "Then we will decide." I wanted to say more, but her green eyes had gone cold; I'm not ashamed to admit that that scared me. So instead of arguing with her (which was totally impossible) I went down a different road (as my grandma would say). "I also want the Dark Daughters to get involved with a com munity charity." This time Neferet's brows totally disappeared into her hairline. "You mean community as in the human community?"

"I do."

"You think they will welcome your help? They shun us. They abhor us. They are afraid of us."

"Maybe that's because they don't know us," I said. "Maybe if we acted like part of Tulsa, we'd get treated like part of Tulsa."

"Have you read about the Greenwood riots in the 1920s? Those African-American humans were part of Tulsa, and Tulsa destroyed them."

"It's not 1920 anymore," I said. It was hard to meet her eyes, but I knew, deep inside, that I was doing the right thing. "Neferet, my intuition is telling me this is something I must do." I watched her expression soften. "And I did tell you to follow your intuition, didn't I?" I nodded. "What charity will you choose to get involved with--providing they actually allow you to help them?"

"Oh, I think they'll let us help them. I've decided to contact Street Cats--the cat rescue charity." Neferet threw back her head and laughed.

Chapter Eight

I was already out of the dining hall and heading to the dorm when I realized that I hadn't said anything to Neferet about the ghosts, but no way did I want to go back upstairs and start that subject. The conversation I'd already had with Neferet had com pletely exhausted me, and despite the beautiful dining room with its great view and its crystal and linen, I'd been eager to get out of there. I wanted to go back to the dorm and tell Stevie Rae about the whole Loren thing and then do nothing but veg out and watch bad reruns on TV and try to forget (at least for one night) that I had a terrible premonition about Chris's disappearance and that I was A Big Deal now and in charge of the most impor tant student group at the school. Whatever. I just wanted to be me for a while. As I'd told Neferet, Chris was probably safely at home already. And there was plenty of time for everything else. Tomor row I'd write down an outline of what I was going to say to the Dark Daughters on Sunday. I guess I'd also have to work on a Full Moon Ritual ... my first real public circle casting and formal rit ual. My stomach started to gurgle. I ignored it. I was halfway to the dorm when I remembered that I also had an essay due Monday for Vamp Soc. Sure, Neferet had excused me from most of the third former work in that class so I could focus on reading ahead in the higher level Soc text, but I'd been trying really hard to be "normal" (Whatever that was--hello--I'm a teenager and a fledgling vampyre. How could any of that be nor mal?), which meant I made sure I turned in papers when the rest of the class did. So I hurriedly backtracked to my homeroom class, where my locker and all of my books were kept. It was also Neferet's room, but I'd just left her having wine with several of the other profs upstairs. For a change I didn't have any worries about overhearing something awful. As usual, the door was unlocked. Why have locks when you had vamp intuition to scare the bejeezus out of kids instead? The room was dark, but that didn't matter. I'd only been Marked one month, but already I saw just as well with the lights off as with them on. Actually, better. Bright lights hurt my eyes--sunlight was almost unbearable. I hesitated as I opened my locker, realizing that I hadn't seen the sun in almost a month. I hadn't even thought about it till now. Huh. Weird.

I was considering the bizarreness of my new life when I no ticed the piece of paper that had been taped to the inside shelf of my locker. It fluttered in the temporary breeze I'd created by opening the door. My hand lifted to calm it, and I felt a jolt of shock when I realized what it was. Poetry. Or, more accurately, a poem. It was short and written in a bold, attractive cursive. I read it and reread it, registering specifi cally what it was. Haiku.

Ancient Queen awake A chrysalis not yet formed Will your wings unfold? I let my fingers brush the words. I knew who had written it. There was only one logical answer. My heart squeezed as I whis pered his name, "Loren ..."

"I'm serious, Stevie Rae. If I tell you, you have to swear you won't say anything to anyone. And when I say anyone I especially mean Damien and the Twins."

"Dang, Zoey, you can trust me. I said I swear. What do you want me to do, open a vein?" I didn't say anything. "Zoey, you really can trust me. Promise." I studied my best friend's face. I needed to talk to someone--someone who was not a vamp. I searched inside myself, to the core of what Neferet would call my intuition. It felt right to con fide in Stevie Rae. It felt safe. "Sorry. I know I can trust you. I'm just ... I don't know." I shook my head, frustrated by my own confusion. "Okay, weird stuff has happened today."