Aphrodite refused to give Frances LaFont that much power.
Darius rushed up to her. He said nothing. He simply pulled her into his arms and held her close. Aphrodite allowed herself to cling to him—to inhale his warmth and his scent—to be immersed in his unconditional love.
“Are you okay?” Z was panting as she hurried to Aphrodite, gently touching her shoulder and brushing back her hair.
“I’d forgotten what an awful bitch your mother is,” Stark said, not unkindly. “That musta sucked for you.”
Aphrodite tilted her head, her chin resting against Darius’ chest. “It did. But, not surprisingly, it’s far from the worst thing my mother has done to me.”
“You stood up to her,” Z said. “You were totally adulting. I’m so proud of you.”
“We’re all proud of you,” Darius said.
“You sounded super smart, too. Damien couldn’t have done better,” Stark said.
That made Aphrodite’s lips lift in the beginnings of a smile. “Promise me you’ll tell him that.”
“Oh, I won’t have to,” Stark said. “Between the cameras and the cell phones that recorded every second of that, everyone is going to see you putting that ice bitch in her place—over and over again.”
“Hey, want to make a fake Facebook account? We could pretend to be a good ol’ Republican Okie named Billy Bob Johnson. His profile pic will, of course, sport the stars and bars. Every time someone posts a video from tonight we’ll share it with your mom. It’ll drive her crazy,” Z said.
“That does sound like fun. We could also share cute cat memes with her. She hates cats.” Aphrodite’s smile became real.
“That’s it. She officially has no soul,” Z said.
“Oh, that was official a long time ago.” Aphrodite tiptoed to kiss Darius before stepping out of his arms. “Okay. I’m better now.”
“Sure?” Z asked.
“Sure.” Aphrodite glanced behind them. “What’s taking them so long to leave?”
“Did you see all those cameras?” Z shook her head. “I don’t get how your mom’s ridiculously early announcement could pull that much press. And why did she stage it in the park? I mean, she wasn’t even far from Neferet’s …” Z’s voice trailed off.
“Do you get it now?” Aphrodite asked.
“I do not. Please explain,” Darius said.
“She’s coming after the House of Night. Her comment about revoking our lease wasn’t prompted by me. She’s running on a platform of fear.”
“And the best way to create fear is to give it a target, and then make up a bunch of bullpoopie and put it out there on the Internet.”
“Not a good time for Neferet to be stirring,” Stark said.
“Like there’s ever a good time for that?” Aphrodite said.
“Well, yeah. A good time would be several hundred years from now after Z and I have peacefully died curled up together in our sleep and are frolicking in Nyx’s Grove in the Other World,” Stark said.
“So, you mean when she’s someone else’s problem,” Z said.
Stark kissed her on her forehead, smack in the middle of her crescent moon. “Yep. Exactly.”
“Can’t say I disagree with that,” Darius said.
“I hear ya, handsome.” Aphrodite took Darius’ calloused hand in hers as they turned and began down the sidewalk that framed Peoria Street. “But first, let’s stop and smell the roses.”
“Hey, I meant that rose comment to be metaphoric. I admit I’m crappy at figurative language, but not this crappy.” Aphrodite was staring, dumbfounded, at what should have been deserted, winter-sparse gardens with rose bushes all tucked in mulch for a frigid sleep.
Instead, old people (OP)—obviously members of the Tulsa Garden Center—were milling around the bushes that stretched along the side of the gardens that bordered Woodward Park, muttering and staring at flowers that were in full bloom.
“This is really weird,” Z said. “We’ve had a hard freeze already. The roses shouldn’t be blooming.”
“Huh?” Stark said.
“Roses don’t bloom after a freeze. They go dormant. Like the koi in the water features. I know because I used to help Grandma prune her roses and then wrap them up for the winter. We always did it after the first hard freeze. But it looks like those roses are blooming.”
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Stark said.
“Stay here. I’m going to go ask one of those OP what’s going on,” Aphrodite said. When Darius started to go with her, she touched his shoulder gently, saying, “No, you stay here, too, handsome. You’re a big, scary vampyre Warrior, remember? Things are better between vamps and humans right now, but there will be a lot less gawking and question asking if I’m not being escorted by you.”
Darius nodded tightly. “I’ll be watching from here. I’ll know if you need me.”
Aphrodite winked and hummed Sting’s “Every Breath You Take” as she headed for the closest old man.
“Excuse me, sir.” Aphrodite put on her sweetest girly-girl smile.
The retiree should have smiled. Men always smiled when she turned her charm on them, but this OP barely glanced in her direction as he mumbled, “Garden shop’s closed.”
“Oh, thank you, sir, but I don’t want to shop. Well, not at this moment I don’t,” she added automatically. “I was just wondering what’s going on with the roses. Isn’t it weird that they’re blooming right now?”
“It is, young lady. But it’s weirder even than that. Apparently we are the victims of a rose thief.”
“Rose thief? I don’t understand.” I didn’t even know there could be such a thing, she added silently.
He did look at her then, and his annoyed expression lightened. “We don’t understand either. But someone stole all of the roses from the beds bordering Woodward Park, and replaced them with these. They’re not even a true rose.” He pointed with disgust at a bush not far from them. Aphrodite followed his finger, and felt a jolt of shock when she realized what she was seeing.
All of the rose bushes that framed this side of Woodward Park were in full bloom, even though their leaves were shriveled and their stalks twisted and spindly.
Each rose was completely black.
These roses had an almost liquid look that made them glisten in the wan streetlight.