the shape of two crescent moons back-to-back against a full moon en crusted with garnets. It was the symbol of the triple Goddess--mother, maiden, and crone. I had one just like it because it was the necklace that the leader of the Dark Daughters wore.
Chapter Eleven
"Where did you get this?" Neferet asked. I could tell she was try ing to keep her voice under control, but there was a powerful, an gry edge to it that was impossible to hide. "This necklace was found near Chris Ford's body." My mouth opened, but I couldn't seem to say anything. I knew my face had gone pale, and my stomach clenched painfully. "Do you recognize the necklace, Miss Redbird?" Detective Marx repeated his question. I swallowed and cleared my throat. "Yes. It's the leadership pendant of the Dark Daughters."
"Dark Daughters?"
"The Dark Daughters and Sons is an exclusive school organi zation, made up of our finest students," Neferet said. "And you belong to this organization?" he asked. "I'm its leader."
"So you wouldn't mind showing us your necklace?"
"I--I don't have it with me. It's in my room." Shock was mak ing my head feel woozy. "Gentlemen, are you accusing Zoey of something?" Neferet said. Her voice was quiet, but the thread of outraged anger that ran through it brushed against my skin, causing my flesh to prickle and rise. I could see from the nervous glance the detec tives shared that they felt it, too. "Ma'am, we're simply questioning her."
"How did he die?" My voice was faint, but it sounded abnor mally loud in the tense silence that surrounded Neferet. "From multiple lacerations and loss of blood," Marx said. "Someone cut him with a switchblade or something?" On the news they'd said that Chris had been mauled by an animal, so I already knew the answer to the question, but I felt compelled to ask. Marx shook his head. "The wounds were like nothing a knife would leave. They were more like animal scratches and bites."
"His body was almost entirely drained of blood," Martin added. "And you're here because this appears to be a vampyre attack," Neferet said grimly. "We're here looking for answers, ma'am," Marx said. "Then I suggest you do a blood alcohol content test on the hu man boy. Just from the little I know about the group of teenagers the boy had as friends, they are habitual drunks. He probably got intoxicated and fell into the river. The lacerations were more than likely made by rocks, or perhaps even animals. It's not uncom mon for coyotes to be found along the river, even within Tulsa city limits," Neferet said. "Yes, ma'am. Tests are being performed on the body. Even drained of blood, it will still tell us many things."
"Good. I'm sure one of the many things it will tell you is that the human boy was drunk, perhaps even high. I think you should look to more reasonable causes for this death than a vampyre at tack. Now, I assume you're done here?"
"One more question, Miss Redbird," Detective Marx asked me without looking at Neferet. "Where were you Thursday between eight and ten o'clock?"
"In the evening?" I asked. "Yes."
"I was at school. Here. In class." Martin gave me a blank look. "School? At that time?"
"Perhaps you should do your own homework before question ing my students. Classes at the House of Night begin at eight P.M. and go till three A.M. Vampyres have long preferred the night." The dangerous edge was still in Neferet's voice. "Zoey was in class when the boy died. Now are we finished?"
"For the time being we are finished with Miss Redbird." Marx flipped a couple pages back in the little notebook he'd been writ ing in before he added, "We do need to speak with Loren Blake." I tried not to react to Loren's name, but I know my body jumped and I felt my face heat up. "I'm sorry, Loren left yesterday before dawn on the school's private jet. He has gone to our East Coast school to support our students who are in the final round of our international Shake spearean monologue contest. But I can certainly give him a mes sage to call you when he returns Sunday," Neferet said while she walked toward the door, clearly dismissing the two men. But Marx hadn't moved. He was still watching me. Slowly he reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. Handing it to me he said, "If you