Marked

deep, mossy green. Her face was an almost perfect heart and her skin was that kind of flawless creaminess that you see on TV. Her hair was deep red―not that horrid carrot-top orange-red or the washed-out blond-red, but a dark, glossy auburn that fell in heavy waves well past her shoulders. Her body was, well, perfect. She wasn't thin like the freak girls who puked and starved themselves into what they thought was Paris Hilton chic. ("That's Hott." Yeah, okay, whatever, Paris.) This woman's body was perfect because she was strong, but curvy. And she had great boobs. (I wish I had great boobs.)
    "Huh?" I said. Speaking of boobs―I was totally sounding like one. (Boob…hee hee).
    The woman smiled at me and showed amazingly straight, white teeth―without fangs. Oh, I guess I forgot to mention that in addition to her perfection she had a sapphire crescent moon neatly tattooed in the middle of her forehead, and from it, swirls of lines that reminded me of ocean, waves framed her brows, extending down around her high cheekbones.
    She was a vampyre.
    "I said, we were hoping you would have some explanation about why a fledgling vampyre that hasn't Changed has the Mark of a mature being on her forehead.”
    Without her smile and the gentle concern in her voice her words would have seemed harsh. Instead, what she said came off as worried and a little confused.
    "So I'm not a vampyre?" I blurted.
    Her laughter was like music. "Not yet, Zoey, but I would say that already having your Mark complete is an excellent omen."
    "Oh…I I.…well, good. That's good," I babbled.
    Thankfully, Grandma saved me from total humiliation.
    "Zoey, this is the High Priestess of the House of Night, Neferet. She's been taking good care of you while you've been"―Grandma paused, obviously not wanting to say the word unconscious― "while you've been asleep.”
    "Welcome to the House of Night, Zoey Redbird," Neferet said warmly.
    I glanced at Grandma and then back at Neferet. Feeling more than a little lost I stuttered, "That's―that's not really my name. My last name is Montgomery.”
    "Is it?" Neferet said, raising her amber-tinted brows. "One benefit of beginning a new life is that you have the opportunity to start over―to make choices you weren't given before. If you could choose, what would your true name be?”
    I didn't hesitate. "Zoey Redbird.”
    "Then from this moment on, you shall be Zoey Redbird. Welcome to your new life." She reached out like she wanted to shake my hand, and I automatically offered mine. But instead of taking my hand, she grasped my forearm, which was weird but somehow felt right.
    Her touch was warm and firm. Her smile blazed with welcome. She was amazing and awe-inspiring. Actually, she was what all vampyres are, more than human―stronger, smarter, more talented. She looked like someone had turned on a blazing inner light within her, which I realize is definitely an ironic description considering the vampyre stereotypes (some of which I already knew were totally true): They avoid sunlight, they're most powerful at night, they need to drink blood to survive (eesh!), and they worship a goddess who is known as Night personified.
    "Th-thank you. It's nice to meet you," I said, trying really hard to sound at least semi-intelligent and normal.
    "As I was telling your grandmother earlier, we have never had a fledgling come to us in such an unusual manner before― unconscious and with a completed Mark. Can you remember what happened to you, Zoey?”
    I opened my mouth to tell her that I totally remembered it― falling and hitting my head…seeing myself like I was a floating spirit…following the weirdly visible words into the cave…and finally meeting the Goddess Nyx. But right before I said the words I got a weird feeling, like someone had just hit me in my stomach. It was clear and it was specific, and it was telling me to shut up.
    "I―I really don't remember much―" I broke off and my hand found the sore spot where my stitches poked out. "At least not after I hit my head. I mean, up until then I remember everything. The Tracker Marked me; I told my parents and got into a ginormic fight with them; then I ran away to my grandma's place. I was feeling really sick, so when I climbed the path up to the bluffs…" I remembered the rest of it―all of the rest of it―the spirits of the Cherokee people, the dancing and the campfire. Shut up! the feeling screamed at me. "I―I guess I slipped because I was coughing