I looked at the Twins. "I don't need to tell you guys to stick together, do I?"

"Nope," Erin said.

"Hey, what if we gather up some more stuff for smudge sticks," Shaunee said.

"Good idea. Smudging all of our rooms couldn't hurt," I said.

"Okey," Shaunee said.

"Dokey," Erin said.

"But wait on that," Jack said. "You guys might be able to help in our persionary action, too."

"You know Beelzebub isn't nice," Shaunee said.

Jack grinned and nodded. "Exactly why he's so perfect."

"Poor Duchess," Erin said.

"Hey, what are you gonna do, Z?" Jack asked.

"Go see Shekinah and ask about Grandma staying here." I glanced at my clock. "Actually, she should be here pretty soon."

"Okay, we all know what we're doing. So let's get to it," Damien said.

As we all headed out the door, Aphrodite hung back. "Hey, I'll meet you back here pretty soon. Looks like you and I will be sticking together for a while."

I smiled at her. "You got yourself into some crap this time, didn't you?"

She rolled her eyes, pulled a mirror out of her purse, and expertly reapplied her fake tattoo, and as I followed her out the door, I walked in a trail of her muttering, "Yeah . . . yeah . . . yeah . . . stupid red-eye-causing visions, dorky friends, ancient evil . . . I can hardly wait to see what's next . . ."

Chapter Twenty-five

Walking down the sidewalk that ran from the girls' dorm to the main school building, I decided that it wouldn't be smart to see Shekinah all tense and stressed out, so I took several deep cleansing breaths to calm myself, collect my thoughts, and told myself to relax and appreciate the beautiful, unseasonably warm night. Gaslights made pretty shadows against the winter trees and hedges, and there was a soft wind blowing the scent of cinnamon and earth from the fallen leaves that carpeted the grounds. Groups of kids walked back and forth between the buildings, mostly heading to the dorms or the near end of the school that held the cafeteria. They were talking and laughing together. Several of them called hellos to me, and many of them saluted me respectfully. Despite the problems facing me, I realized I was feeling optimistic. I wasn't alone in this. My friends were with me, and for the first time in a long time, they knew everything. I wasn't lying or evading. I was telling the truth and really, really happy about it.

Nala padded out of the shadows and up to me, "mee-uf-owing" and giving me a reproachful look. With barely a pause, she hurled herself up and into my arms and I had to scramble to catch her.

"Hey! You could warn me, ya know!" I said, but ended up kissing the white spot over her nose and tickling her ears. We walked down the shadowy sidewalk, heading away from the kid-filled part of campus to the quieter section that held the library and eventually the professors' rooms. The night really was pretty, with a clear Oklahoma sky filled with glittering stars. Nala curled her head against my shoulder and was purring contentedly when I felt her entire body tense up.

"Nala? What's wrong with--?"

And I heard it. A single croaking raven that sounded like it was so close that I should be able to see it within the night-sleeping shadows of the nearest tree. His cry was taken up by first one, and then another and then another. That simple sound was indescribably terrifying. I understood why they were called mockers of ravens because, even though you could easily mistake them for regular birds, if you listened just a little more carefully, you heard in their suspiciously mundane call the echo of death and fear and madness. The breeze that had been warm and sweet-smelling was replaced by an icy nothingness, like I'd just entered a mausoleum. My blood went cold.

Nala hissed long and menacingly, staring back over my shoulder at the darkness surrounding the huge old oaks that were usually so familiar and welcoming. Not tonight. Tonight they housed monsters. I automatically started to walk faster, looking frantically around for the kids that had just moments ago seemed to be all around me. But Nala and I had turned a corner in the sidewalk, and we were totally alone with the night and all it shrouded. The ravens cried again. The sound made the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stand up. Nala growled low in her throat and hissed again. Wings fluttered all around me, so close, I could feel the cold wind they were displacing. I smelled them then. They reeked of old meat and pus. A scent that was deadly, sickeningly sweet. I tasted the bile of fear in the back of my throat.

More croaking caws filled the night, and now I could see darkness within the darkness of stirring shadows. I caught glimpses of something flashing, sharp and hooked. How could they have beaks that shone glossy in the softness of the gaslights if they were just spirit? How could spirits smell like death and decay? And if they weren't just spirits anymore, what did that mean?