“Hyperbole,” she muttered. “Sad, sad, hyperbole.”
At the corner of Twenty-First and Utica, we turned left, crossing the street and walking past festively decorated office buildings and the yummy McGill’s restaurant. There was a little rise in the road and then we were looking down at Woodward Park.
“Ah oh,” I said.
“What the hell?” Stark asked.
Aphrodite and Darius caught up to us, and we all stared at what should be a dark, deserted park lit only by the vintage-looking streetlamps. Currently it was anything but deserted and dark. There was a large crowd of what appeared to be reporters, complete with a big Channel 2 News van and several cameras surrounding a woman who was standing in front of a podium (Podium? At Woodward Park? Huh?) facing the throng of people. Camera lights flashed, but we were too far away to hear what was being said.
“Oh, for shit’s sake. That’s my mother.”
The three of us gawked at Aphrodite. Then our gazes swiveled back to the park scene and, sure enough, now that I was looking closer I could see that the woman was indeed Aphrodite’s beautiful, hateful mother, Frances LaFont.
“I wonder what she’s up to?” Stark said.
“Nothing good,” I said. “That’s for sure.” I glanced at my friend, who was staring at her mom with a kinda shell-shocked expression, her face washed the white of a porcelain doll. “Have you talked to her since your dad died?”
“No. I called her after we beat Neferet. I thought she’d want to know that I was okay. I don’t know why I thought that, but still. I called. Her PA passed along Mom’s message to me, which was that she is ‘permanently not available to talk to the person who used to be her daughter,’” she air quoted. “That was last year.”
“She is consumed by anger and ambition,” Darius said, sliding his arm around Aphrodite’s shoulders and holding her close. “That is what you escaped, my beauty.”
“Hey, Stark and I can go down there. Go back to McGill’s and order a glass of wine. We’ll do some recon and meet you in a few,” I said.
Aphrodite shook her head. “No. She said it. I’m not her daughter anymore, so she doesn’t get to fuck with my life anymore.”
Darius touched her cheek gently. “Bullies seldom stand when confronted by those who aren’t weak or alone. You are neither.”
“Yeah. Especially not alone.” I took her hand and squeezed.
“And definitely too hateful to be weak,” Stark said, his smile making it the compliment he intended.
Aphrodite blinked several times and then drew a deep breath and stood a little taller. “Okay, let’s go see what kind of shit she’s stirring now.”
Closing ranks around Aphrodite, we followed the sidewalk down, crossed the street, and moved slowly to the outskirts of the group of people just as a familiar voice from the crowd called out a question.
“Mrs. LaFont, the next mayoral election isn’t for almost a year. Why announce your candidacy so early?”
Aphrodite sucked in a shocked breath.
Mrs. LaFont’s cerulean eyes searched the crowd until she spotted the reporter. “Chera Kimiko, so lovely to see you. I was afraid we’d lost you to marital bliss. Glad to see you’re back with the news, though I do prefer Fox’s sensible politics to Channel 2.”
Aphrodite made soft kiss-kiss sounds.
“Thank you, Mrs. LaFont,” Chera said without losing a beat. “And I think reporters should report the news and not fabricate it. Would you like me to repeat my question?”
“No, dear. I remember the question perfectly well. I am announcing my candidacy for mayor of Tulsa early because I believe the good people of our fair city need to be given hope.”
“Hope? Tulsa’s unemployment rate has fallen 1.5 percent over the past year, and is currently at its lowest since the oil boom. Housing sales are up. We’ve finally raised teacher pay competitively, and the construction on Harvard Street has actually been completed.” Chera paused as the crowd laughed softly before concluding. “What does Tulsa need to hope for?”
“Do you remember the Biblical story of Sodom and Gomorrah?” Mrs. LaFont said, an icy smile on her perfect face.
“Oh, shit. Here we go,” Aphrodite murmured.
“Those twin cities thrived, too, even as they were rotting from within. I’m sure their unemployment rate was down, as well. Just before God, in all His wisdom, smote them for harboring vile sinners. If you recall, angels of the Lord couldn’t even find ten righteous men to save the cities.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. LaFont. I don’t understand. Are you saying Tulsa is harboring sinners and you need to save us from them?” Chera asked.
“Well, I didn’t say that. You did. And since you did, let me explain. I don’t think it does any of us good if we gain wealth, but lose our souls in the process.”
“Ma’am?” Chera asked, clearly as baffled as the rest of the crowd.
“Vampyres.” LaFont spoke the word as if she’d bitten into a lemon. “Vampyres are the vileness we’re harboring.”
“Ah oh,” I said softly. “Maybe now would be a good time for us to leave.”
“Not a chance,” Aphrodite said.
“But Mrs. LaFont, Tulsa has spent the past year working with the House of Night. There is even a new program in the works that will allow area students to take classes at the House of Night—tuition-free. There’s a farmers’ market on the school grounds every Thursday night, which is open to the public, and their new High Priestess, Zoey Redbird, has instituted a cat rescue program in conjuncture with Tulsa Street Cats. Human–vampyre relations have never been so good,” Chera said.
“And don’t forget, the House of Night saved us from Neferet!” called another reporter I didn’t recognize.
“Don’t you forget Neferet came from the House of Night. They are the reason she loosed her evil on our city. If it hadn’t been for the House of Night, those twelve hundred people, my husband included, would be alive today. How many of them were your brothers and sisters? Husbands and wives? Sons and daughters?” LaFont paused to let the crowd murmur restlessly.
Into the pause, Chera asked, “What is it you’re proposing, Mrs. LaFont? What will be your mayoral platform?”
“That’s simple. My platform is: Make Tulsa Strong Again. I believe that says it all.”
There was a pregnant pause, and then Chera said, “What exactly does that mean?”
“Well, it means that we need to depend upon the good Christian people of this community to come together to preserve our culture and identity. We’re strong when we’re Tulsa—not when we harbor a ticking time bomb in the heart of our beautiful city. If I am elected your mayor, I pledge to rescind the House of Night’s lease on the old Cascia Hall Preparatory School and to escort every last vampyre out of our city. We need to take Tulsa back!”