Loren
Numbly, I opened the door to my private loft and stepped in. The first thing that hit me was the smell. Perfume. And not just any perfume: expensive fruity perfume. I inhaled deeply, "Neferet?" The lights to my loft flicked on to reveal her leaning comfortably on my couch.
Not again, I groaned internally.
"Loren, darling, you were out playing late tonight," she tapped one long slender finger against the wine glass in her hand.
"Neferet, what do you want?" I rubbed my temples. I was not in the mood to play games with her tonight.
"Oh, touchy," she laughed as she rose from my bed and sauntered towards the door. "Listen, I just stopped by to say goodbye. You're leaving for that Shakespeare trip in an hour, remember?" She smiled innocently. "I just wanted to say 'Have fun'." She waved and retreated through the door with a, "See ya, handsome," tossed back over her shoulder.
The woman was really creeping me out more and more each day. I quickly shut the door and looked around. Dear sweet goddess!
The floor of my loft was still covered in poems. Poems that—obviously—could only be about one specific person. I picked up the first one and read it through.
"Cherokee goddess
Crimson passion awaits thee
Set your craving free."
Yeah, I'm screwed, I thought. There was no way on this earth that Neferet didn't know just which fledgling all of these poems were about. She knew about my twisted sick feelings for Zoey. The only thing was, what was she going to do about it? Fire me? Or take it out on Zoey? I shivered. There was no way I could let innocent Zoey take the fall for my behavior. I would have to find some way to shield her from Neferet, which will be next to impossible because Neferet is her mentor. All the pieces were slowly falling into place. Neferet in my room with a pretty crappy excuse might I add, plus her trying to convince me that a fledgling specially marked by Nyx is evil. Something was definitely wrong with Neferet. I just couldn't place my finger on what. Somehow I was going to have to find out, even after I got fired and there was no way I wouldn't be.
I fell onto my large iron bed, curling up in the deep red, silk sheets. I looked around my loft, enjoying the view while it lasted. There was no way I would get to keep it now. I had always loved my loft, the bright colors, the lines, the textures. It was pure poetry.
There was a shape to it I had yet to find anywhere else. When you first walked in, there was the small foyer with a side table and a rectangular mirror on the wall. I had a small clear glass dish on the deep cherry wood table that held the keys to my black Mazda six. Past that was the small living room or main room. The first section of the floor was a sunken room. It had a comfy red couch in the middle on a beige area rug facing the flat screen TV on the wall. The stereo sat just below the TV, above two rows of my favorite DVDs. Behind that was the bedroom. My large wrought iron bed occupied most of the space, but I had a large dresser and desk, both made of the same dark gorgeous cherry wood. The bathroom had a shower tub combo and a vanity cabinet hanging over a semi large sink. The bathroom connected to the walk in closet, which I admit, was a bit of a pity next to anyone else's closet. There was plenty of open space in it, and the few articles of clothing that were in it were mainly button up shirts and dress slacks. Just past the sunken room was my small but lovable kitchen. It had a full fridge, an island, a small stove, a large sink, and beautiful granite countertops. It was probably my favorite room and not because of the mind-blowing grilled ham and cheese sandwiches that came out of it. I truly loved my loft, despite its somewhat empty feeling.
Say goodbye now, Blake. If she doesn't fire you tomorrow, she will soon. I flipped on the TV, switching it to the news channel while I packed for the Shakespeare Monologue Contest. Any other day, the voice of Chera Kimiko—the anchor for Fox 23 evening news—would just fly in one ear and out the other. But today, my ears picked up just enough of the dialogue to grasp my attention. "…the search continues for Union High School teenager Chris Ford. The seventeen year old disappeared yesterday after football practice." A picture of a grinning, muscular boy in a red and white football uniform flashed in the upper right hand corner of the screen. "Search parties are combing the area around Utica Square and Woodward Park, where he was last seen. So far there are no leads as to why he was in the Woodward Park area. Chris's mother said she didn't even know her son knew the way to Woodward Park, she's never known him to go there before. Mrs. Ford also said that she expected him home right after football practice. He has now been missing for more than twenty-four hours. If anyone has any information that might help the police locate Chris, please call Crime Stoppers. You may remain anonymous." Chera Kimiko trailed off to the next story and I clicked the TV off. I don't know why it held any interest to me. I didn't know the boy.
Now that I thought about it, I knew someone who might know him. Zoey. Neferet had been bragging about her super talented fledgling from Broken Arrow High School. It's a loose connection, but maybe Zoey knew this Union Football player. Which put her back on my suspects list. I sighed and rubbed my forehead, deciding I would deal with the investigation later. For now, I needed to pack.
I quickly folded a few dress shirts, slacks, and boxers; packing them somewhat neatly in the suitcase lying open on my bed. I checked everything off mentally: tooth brush, comb, pants (I had indeed forgotten to pack those once), shirts, boxers, journal, pens, and… I wracked my brain trying to remember the last item. Whatever it is, it couldn't be that important if I forgot it. I zipped up my bag, grabbed my wallet and walked out the front door. Two days, I thought sadly. Two days and I would be back, and Neferet will probably fire me. Part of me wanted to invite Zoey to come with me to the Monologue Contest, just so I knew she was safe from Neferet. But that would look too suspicious. If Neferet did act on her knowledge, I would have to trust Zoey's friends to help her out.
I made it to the front gate, noticing the two large black SUV's parked against the sidewalk. "Ah, there you are Professor Blake," Professor Nolan smiled and waved me over.
"Is everyone here and ready to go?" I asked.
"Almost. We're still waiting on one more," She ticked my name off of a small blue clipboard she was clutching. I looked around the tiny group of fledglings, doing a head count. I saw Kaci Crump talking animatedly with Deino beside the first SUV. Isolated from the group, Cole Clifton stood under one of the scrawny maple trees talking to the ever popular, superman-want-to-be, Erik Night. Talent or no talent, something about the perfect hair, perfect teeth teenage boy irked me. I didn't have time to further delve into my unreasonable hatred for him. The last straggler finally appeared.
"You're late Cassie," Professor Nolan checked the final name off the list.
"Sorry, Professor," the small girl smiled apologetically.
"Yes, well… Let's go everybody; we needed to be out of here ten minutes ago!" Professor Nolan clapped her hands, ushering fledglings into the SUVs. "Loren, you take the boys and I'll ride with the girls," She said. I wanted to protest—I didn't want to spend that much time with the Night boy—but I knew the school policy. If we mixed the girls with the boys there had to be a male and female chaperone for each car. Since there was only two chaperones available—myself and Nolan—we were left with only one choice. I regrettably slid into the SUV after Erik and Cole and settled in for what was hopefully a very short ride to the airport. At least here, in the SUV on my way to New York, I didn't have to worry about seeing Zoey and causing any more trouble than I was already in. I was grateful for at least that much, even if I would miss seeing my little piece of artwork.
"So Erik, how's your girl taking you being gone for two days?" Cole asked casually. Great. I'm going to have to listen to two hours of boyfriend girlfriend mush from Clark Kent.
"Who, Zoey? Good I guess. She knows it's only two days. Besides, I'm not sure what's all going to happen with us. I mean, I'm older so I'm probably going to Change first. Which means I'll have to leave the House of Night, start my life, my career. So I'm not sure we'll last past that. I don't know. I'm considering these two days the trail period. If I like being free, then once I Change, Zoey and I will probably split. But if I don't like the single life, I'll keep with her," he shrugged. It took all of my will power not to punch this egotistical, womanizing, asshole fledgling. My hands clenched into fists, my blood pounded in my ears. Get a hold of yourself Blake, my mind whispered. You'll only cause more troubles for her.
"Dude, that's pretty harsh," Cole looked at him shocked. Thank goddess one of these boys have some common decency!
"It is what it is. Zoey's smart enough to know that I'm not going to cut my career off so I can sit on the couch eating Doritos while I wait around for her to Change," Erik said before cracking open a bottle of water. I readjusted myself so I was breathing in the cool air from the open window. This was going to be a very long ride.
**AN: Dear Erik fans… sorry. Also, I do not own anything of the House of Night, etc. etc. I'm pretty bored with it being summer vacation so I'll probably have another chapter for this up sometime this week. I'm trying to make sure I keep equal time working on "Burned and Broken". Don't forget to review! NC**