House of Night 09 - Destined

didn’t get to say good-bye. I love you. I always have. I always will.” Then I put my face in my hands, gave in to the terrible storm of sadness that had been building inside me, and I began to sob.
    Aurox
    The fledgling called Zoey—the one with the odd tattoos that covered not just her face, but her shoulders, hands, and as Neferet had told him, some parts of the rest of her body, too—made him feel strange.
    Neferet had said Zoey was her enemy. That made Zoey his enemy as well. She who was his mistress’s enemy was a danger—that danger must be why he felt an oddness when she was near. Aurox noted the direction Zoey went as she hurried away. He should note everything about her. Zoey was dangerous.
    “Neferet, I need to speak with you regarding the new classes that are being taught in Lenobia’s arena,” Dragon Lankford was saying.
    Neferet’s cold green eyes turned to Dragon. “It was decided by the High Council that these fledglings stay, at least for the time being.”
    “I understand that, but—”
    “But would you rather have the Raven Mocker in your class?” Neferet snapped.
    “Rephaim isn’t a Raven Mocker anymore.” The Red High Priestess spoke up quickly in her mate’s defense.
    “And yet he calls those creatures, those Raven Mockers, brother,” Aurox said.
    “Indeed, Aurox, that is a relevant observation,” Neferet said without looking at him. “As you are Nyx’s gift to me I think it is important that we listen to your observations.”
    “What in the Sam Hill is the point? They are his brothers. He’s not tryin’ to hide that.” Shaking her head, the Red High Priestess met his eyes. Aurox saw sadness and anger there, though the emotions weren’t strong enough for him to feel them—for him to draw power from them. “You shouldn’t have killed that Raven Mocker. He wasn’t attacking anyone.”
    “You think we should wait for the creatures to slaughter another one of us before we move against them?” Dragon Lankford said.
    The Sword Master’s anger was more tangible and Aurox absorbed some of the strength of it. He felt it boil through his blood—pulsing—feeding—changing.
    “Aurox, you are not needed here. You may go on about your duties. Begin here at the main school building and move around inside the perimeter of the campus. Patrol the grounds. Be quite certain none of the Raven Mockers return.” His mistress glanced at the Red High Priestess and added, “My command is to attack only those who threaten you or the school.”
    “Yes, Priestess.” He bowed to her and then backed from the doorway and walked out into the night as he heard the Red High Priestess still defending her mate. She, too, is an enemy, though my mistress says of a different kind—a kind that may be used.
    Aurox contemplated the intricacies of those who opposed Neferet. She’d explained to him that someday soon all of these fledglings and vampyres would either submit to her will, or be destroyed. His mistress looked forward to that day. Aurox looked forward to that day, too.
    He stepped off the sidewalk, moving to his right toward the edge of the main school building. Aurox kept away from the flickering gaslights. Instinctively he preferred the deeper shadows and darker corners. His senses were always alert, always searching. So it was strange that the tissue startled him. It was a simple rectangle of white. It floated on the wind, fluttering before him almost like a bird. He stopped and reached out, plucking it from the night.
    So strange, he thought, a floating paper tissue. Without conscious thought, he tucked it into the pocket of his jeans. Shrugging off the odd, foreboding feeling, he kept walking.
    Her emotions hit him after he’d taken two more steps.
    Sadness—deep, pressing grief. And guilt. There was guilt there in her feelings, too.
    Aurox knew it was the young fledgling High Priestess—the Zoey Redbird. He told himself he approached her only because it was wise to observe one’s enemy. But as he got closer—as her feelings flooded him—something unexpected happened within him. Instead of absorbing her emotions and feeding off them, Aurox absorbed them and felt.
    He didn’t change. He didn’t begin to morph into the creature of great power.
    Instead, Aurox felt.
    Zoey’s grief drew him forward, and as he stood in the shadows that surrounded her and watched her sob, her emotion flowed into him, gathered and pooled in a small, quiet, hidden place deep inside his