“No,” Shaunee said slowly. “None of that’s real. And, Twin, nobody’s perfect. Especially not you and me.”

“What the hell is it? How could Rephaim’s dad change everything?” Erin shouted.

“It’s been bothering me for a while, but I didn’t say anything.”

“Rephaim’s dad or your dad?” Erin said.

“Neither, Erin. I’m not talking about either one. I’m talking about stuff in general. Like Jack dying.” Shaunee felt, really, really tired.

“I cared about Jack dying! We cried and stuff.”

“No, we cried, and then you got an e-mail from Danielle that had a link to Rue La La and we shopped,” Shaunee said.

“So? I bought black shoes. Wait, no. We bought black shoes. Platforms. With pink bows and Swarovski crystals on the heels. We said it was appropriate mourning attire and that Jack would appreciate it. Then we cried some more. We did it. Both of us. How are you so much better than me if you did the same thing?”

Shaunee wondered how Erin could look like she was pleading and pissed at the same time.

“I’m not better than you. I didn’t say that. Actually, you’re better than me ’cause you’re fine and I’m not. That’s the bottom line. I’m not fine anymore. Not with myself and I think that means not with us, either, but I don’t really know—”

“I’ll tell you what, Twin,” Erin butted in, wiping angrily at the tears that were smearing blue across her cheeks. “When you’re fine again come see me. Until then find your own room and your own stuff. I don’t want a roommate, or a twin, who’s not fine with me.” Crying silently and ignoring the things that kept spilling from her shopping bags, Erin stomped down the tunnel, leaving Shaunee standing in a pile of glittery pillows and velvet tights.

Someone cleared her throat and Shaunee jumped. It was only when Zoey handed her a wad of semi-used Kleenexes that she realized she was bawling.

“Do ya wanta talk about it?”

“Not really,” Shaunee said.

“Okay, you want to be by yourself?” Zoey asked.

“I’m not sure. But I do know one thing and it’s gonna sound really bad,” Shaunee said with a little hiccupy sob.

“Well, then say it fast ’cause when you say it fast it gets over with and it doesn’t seem so bad.”

“I want to go live back at the House of Night.”

There was a heavy silence, and then Zoey asked, “Does Erin want to go with you?”

“No,” Shaunee said, wiping away the last of her tears. “I’m going by myself.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Zoey

Sunday sucked as bad as Saturday had. Later I looked back and realized that when Erin and Shaunee split was when the whole thing started to unravel. It was weird what the two of them not speaking did to the rest of us. It was like them being pissed at each other unbalanced everyone.

“I don’t know about you, but the brain-sharers are driving me crazy.”

Aphrodite plopped down beside me where I was sitting on the curb that edged the old circle driveway entrance to the depot. I sighed and thought so much for taking a second and trying to be by myself. I scooted over to give her more room.

“Yeah, I know. It’s weird them not always being together, and now Shaunee looks like she’s ready to burst into tears all the time and Erin’s all silent and pouting. It’s super crazy down there.”

“Fire and ice,” Aphrodite mumbled.

My brows shot up. “You know, you may be right.”

“I do not know when you’re going to get a fucking clue and realize that I’m right mostly all the time.” Aphrodite pulled a little jeweled emery board from her Coach purse and started to file her nails. “I don’t know what else that damn stupid poem means, but part of it is definitely about the brain-sharers.”

“Why are you filing your nails?”

She shot me a WTF look. “Because this stupid town doesn’t have enough all-night spas. Well, except for the scary ones and I just want my nails done, not my vagina. I don’t want the HIV either, for that matter.”

“Aphrodite, you make no sense at all sometimes.”

“You are welcome for broadening your horizons. Anyway, as I was saying, what are you going to do about Tweedledee and Tweedledumber?”

“Uh, nothing. They’re girlfriends. Sometimes girlfriends get mad at each other. They’re gonna have to figure out a way to make up by themselves.”

“Seriously? That’s all you have?”

“Well, Aphrodite, what the hell do you expect me to do?”

“Did you just curse? Isn’t ‘hell’”—she air quoted—“a curse word?”

“How ’bout you go straight there and see?” I narrowed my eyes at her. “And for the zillionth time—there’s nothing wrong with not having a potty mouth!”

“Yelling and cursing. Next thing I know snowballs will be flying through H E double toothpicks.”

“You. Are. Hateful,” I said.

“Thank you. But seriously. What are you going to do about the Twins?”

“Give them space!” I didn’t mean to shout but the echo off the stone building told me otherwise. I took a deep breath and tried to stop feeling like I wanted to smother Aphrodite. “I can’t be responsible every time one of my friends has issues with another of my friends. That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It’s in a stupid but prophetic poem,” she said, filing her nails.

“I still don’t see how that makes me—”

I shut up as a big black Lincoln Town Car pulled through the circle entrance and stopped in front of Aphrodite and me. While we watched with unattractively open mouths, a Son of Erebus Warrior got out of the driver’s seat, ignored us completely, and opened the back door of the car.

Long and lean and dressed in dark blue velvet, Thanatos took the Warrior’s hand and gracefully emerged. She smiled at us and nodded acknowledgment when we bowed to her, but her attention was clearly on the depot building.

“What a lovely example of 1930s Art Deco workmanship,” she said, her gaze taking in the scope of the front of the depot. “I mourned the passing of rail travel. When it finally matured it was a wonderfully relaxing way to move across this great country. Actually, it still is today. Sad that there are so few modern rail routes from which to choose. You should have visited a depot in the forties—tragedy, hope, despair, and courage all concentrated into one vibrant, living space.” She continued to gaze lovingly at the old building. “Not like the horrid airports of today. They’ve been bleached of all romance and soul and life, especially since the tragedy of nine-eleven. So sad … so sad…”

“Uh, Thanatos, can I help you with something?” I finally asked after it became obvious that she was going to stand like, forever, and just stare at the depot.

She motioned for the Warrior to get back in the car. “Wait for me across the street in the parking garage. I will be along shortly.” He bowed to her and drove away. She faced Aphrodite and me. “Ladies, I believe it is time for a change.”

“A change of what?” I asked.

“Apparently a change of our entrance,” Aphrodite said dryly. “Kalona came up here. Thanatos is up here. We need to put out some kind of welcome mat ’cause the whole enter-through-the-nappy basement thing is not working for us.”

“Strangely put, but I think true,” Thanatos said. “Which is one reason why I have, in the name of the Vampyre High Council, purchased this building for you.”

I blinked in surprise and tried to formulate an appropriate response when Aphrodite said, “I hope that means renovation.”

“It does,” Thanatos said.

“Wait,” I said. “We’re not a House of Night. Why would the High Council get involved in where we’re living?”

“Because we’re special and cool and they don’t want us to exist in a dirty hovel,” Aphrodite said.

“Or because they want to control where we live and what we do,” I said.

Thanatos raised her brows. “You speak with the command of a High Priestess.”