Chosen
hadn’t tried to bite me, which was a plus. Of course, the whole trying-to-eat-the-street-person was highly disturbing, as was the totally gross way she looked and smelled. But underneath all of that hateful crazy undead girl exterior I swear I could still sense
my
Stevie Rae, my best friend. I was going to hold tight to that and see if I could coax her back into the light. Figuratively speaking anyway. I think the actual light bothers her even more than it bothers me or adult vamps. Which figured. The gross undead dead kids were definitely vamp stereotypes. I wondered if she’d burst into flame ifsunlight touched her. Crap. That would definitely be bad, especially since we’re meeting at 3:00 A.M ., which was only a couple hours before dawn. Crap again.
    As if worrying about sunlight and whatnot wasn’t enough, I had to start thinking about what I was going to do when all the profs (Neferet in particular) came back to school in the too-near future, and the fact that I had to keep the knowledge that Stevie Rae was undead versus dead dead from everyone. No. I’d worry about that after I got Stevie Rae cleaned up and someplace safe. I’d just take it one little tiny baby step at a time and hope that Nyx, who had clearly led me to Stevie Rae, was going to give me some help figuring things out.
    By the time I got back to school it was almost dawn. The parking lot of the school was mostly deserted, and I didn’t meet anyone as I walked slowly around the side of the castle-like cluster of buildings that made up the House of Night. The girls’ dorm was at the opposite end of the campus, but I still wasn’t in any hurry. Plus, I had something I needed to do before I went to the dorm and more than likely ran into at least a couple of my disgruntled friends. (Ugh, I really
really
hate my birthday.)
    The building that sat across from the main House of Night structure was made of the same odd mixture of old bricks and jutting rocks as the rest of the school, but this one was smaller and rounder, and in front of it was a marble statue of our goddess, Nyx, with her arms upraised as if her hands were cupping a full moon. I stood gazing at the goddess. The old-fashioned gaslights that illuminated the campus weren’t just easy on our changing eyesight. They created a soft, warm light that flickered like a caress, breathing life into Nyx’s statue.
    Feeling more than a little in awe of the goddess, I put down my lavender plant and
Dracula
(gently), and then I searched around in the winter grass at the base of Nyx’s statue until I found the tall green prayer candle that had fallen over on its side. I set it upright and then closed my eyes and focused myself, concentrating on the warmth and beauty of the gaslight flame and on how one candle could cast enough light to change the whole atmosphere of a dark room.
    â€œI call flame—light for me, please,” I whispered.
    I heard the wick sputter and felt the flash of heat against my face. When I opened my eyes, I saw that the green candle, which represents the element earth, was burning cheerily. I smiled in satisfaction. I hadn’t been exaggerating to Stevie Rae. I had been practicing calling the elements during the past month, and I was getting really good at it. (Not that my awesome, goddess-given power would help me soothe my friends’ hurt feelings, but still.)
    I placed the lighted candle carefully at Nyx’s feet. Instead of bowing my head, I tilted it back, so that my face was open and looking up at the majesty of the night sky. And then I prayed to my goddess, but I’ll admit that the way I pray sounds a lot like just talking. This isn’t because I mean any disrespect to Nyx. It’s just the way I am. From the first day I was Marked and the goddess appeared to me, I’ve felt close to her—like she really cares about what happens in my life, versus being a nameless God on High who looks down on me with a

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