Fallen Priestess- A House of Night fanfiction

Nights

Neferet just wanted to sleep, so she was tempted to call her boss and cancel. After this disastrous night, she wanted to think and this would help. Neferet motioned to Xynox to get in the car, and he did so, not meeting her eyes. Xynox was trying to figure out where exactly he'd gone wrong, so he could remedy it and then go on. He knew Neferet couldn't possibly be as aloof as she liked to pretend to be, not after that kiss. Or, he corrected himself, those kisses.

Neferet pulled the car into a spot that said reserved in all capitals, but never said for whom. She escorted Xynox into the tall black building with the satellite dishes on the top. For what had to be close to her hundredth time, she waved her pass through the scanner, motioning to Xynox to follow. She waved to the producer and then entered her space, the recording booth. Neferet spoke into the microphone after a signal from the producer.

"This is Nights with Saraneth," she spoke, knowing that despite it being close to one in the morning, there were people listening to the station she spoke for. "So, I'm looking through the emails you night owls sent me, and amongst other things, I've seen that people want to know my stance on love. Well, in my hundred plus years, I know quite a lot,"

Xynox normally didn't listen, but his ears perked up at this, and he tuned in to Neferet's speech, hoping he'd manage to hear some sort of reasoning behind her unusual reactions.

"But all this after a quick song, here comes …to be loved by Papa Roach," she said, hitting the control switch that would turn her music on, and then turning her microphone off. The producer came in and asked, "is this a touchy subject with you?"

Neferet laughed bitterly, responding honestly albeit defensively, "If I could not handle talking about it, I would not," she looked disinterested, crossing her legs and staring at the portly man who she called 'boss'.

The producer was thrown a loop by the hardness in her eyes. He never knew what to expect from the vampyre, particularly when he could tell she was angered "just remember, no names, I don't care if they're dead, their grandchildren don't need to hear about Grandpa's misdeeds. And keep it clean, okay?"

Neferet rolled her eyes, "I read the pamphlet you gave me when I got the job, while you're at it, you're going to remind me to play music every now and again and acknowledge my sponsors and all that," she added, seeing the song was close to done, "I'm live in ten, so you can stay if you're that worried I'll forget myself. But don't interrupt me," she ordered. The man took a seat in the back of the room, and Neferet pressed the microphone button. "Well, I'm back, and I'm sorry to disappoint those of you who wanted a sappy session where I tell you to love with your whole hearts and never give it up. That's the attitude I started with, when I was a naïve human. I cannot tell the story of that on air, my producer might just fire me, but suffice it to say, I trusted two people, and within an hour, my beloved and my father had both betrayed me," she tried to control the bitterness that surged up at that.

Xynox wondered how they'd betrayed her, what had happened, but he knew better than to ask. Neferet's voice had changed there, making her sound incredibly sad, incredibly ancient. He wondered if this was why she'd pushed him away.

"But, you see, that was in year 1893, long before most people's grandparents were born. Most would ask me if I'd tried again. And I did. I was just a fledgling, and his name was Blake. I can give his name because I have nothing bad to say about him. He tried to stop my downward spiral and eventually I spiralled out of control and it cost him his life. Again, this time I betrayed myself. Betrayal, has always been the common theme. IF you are not betrayed by your partner, and you do not betray them, ultimately, life will betray you. Life will take them away, make them flee, let them die before they even reach twenty-one, sometimes," Neferet spoke, letting it all out and ignoring the anger, the sadness that accompanied it.

"Even outside my sordid tale, I see it. My enemy almost lost her will to live when her lover ceased to. And for what? Is another person worth all those risks, losing yourself, being betrayed, wanting to die, compromising your goals? What will you really gain? What could anyone hope to gain? All I see that a person could get from it is a person to protect them, and I'm more then self-sufficient," Neferet ranted, growing bolder as the night went on, "now I'm going to turn it over to some music, but if you want to voice your opinion, emails are great, text me, that kind of thing," she switched it back to three more songs that she would play, back to back.

Xynox sat, just outside her recording room, wondering how he was going to do anything. Neferet's reasoning, cynical though it was, was based in things he didn't know had happened. Things he wasn't sure he could counter, or could even try to counter. He knocked on the door and she motioned to him to enter. Xynox smiled and came in, just as the producer (who always listened to Neferet when he could tell she was getting intense) left. "So that's the story?" he asked, intrigued, "betrayal is what you're worried about?" he asked again. How bad could it be? What could have happened to her so long ago that could leave a mark?

Neferet sighed, not in the mood for another argument with the vessel. She met his eyes for a long moment, locking her emerald eyes on his dark ones. She hoped he saw the determination, the anger that showed in them. He broke the stare, looking down at the timer. "Neferet, you're on," he whispered. She hit the mic button, turning it on and pulling out her phone. "Okay, from someone going by Frozen Spirit, on email, I have a response I found interesting. 'Saraneth, I get that love is full of betrayal, but I'd like to add something. Death is just as bad for messing things up, and even immortals aren't truly safe. When you think you can't be harmed, something always comes into play, Death, another, circumstances. It's a wonder any of us are left. Other question. Obviously, you don't do 'love' per se, but do you have anyone important in your life? XX,'

My eyes widened at the name she signed. Not name so much as initial, a lone capital c. Frozen Spirit had been with me since the start, but had only ever left a random letter at the bottom of her emails. The C seemed off, as though she was hinting at something by italicising it like she had. "Frozen, I have a vessel, that's it. Attractive though he may be, we will never be more than two people under the same roof. That's assuming he stays. Cracked, I'm not entirely sure how loyal they are," Neferet finally said.

Xynox didn't care that the viewers would hear him, that didn't matter to him; it wasn't his mess to sort out later. He was offended by Neferet's way of brushing him off entirely; purely platonic, my ass. "Actually, Saraneth, that would imply that we hadn't kissed earlier tonight. Or that you hadn't tried to kill the last person to dance with me," he remarked, making sure the microphone picked him up

Neferet looked infuriated, "Actually, If memory serves, you cornered me," she spat back, ignoring the producer's little rules about airing other people on the station. Xynox wanted to mess with her while she was still on, she could return the favour. And then some. She was done with the obstinate vessel.

Xynox heard her retort and shot back equally fast, "if it was so against your will, why did you let me?" he demanded. Xynox was going to have her admit things here and now, if he had to.

Neferet glared at him, commenting, "if I let you, why did I push you away?" she seethed. Neferet couldn't believe Xynox's impertinence tonight. If it weren't for the fact that she was mortal, and he would protect her, she would kill him. The vessel was not doing anything for her, except maybe as a bodyguard.

Xynox didn't understand Neferet's aversion to him. Could she admit she'd enjoyed kissing him? It wasn't a crime, nor was it marriage. "Yeah, you pushed me away. I overstepped myself. But if it was that awful, why did you wait ten or so minutes to do so?" he demanded, "Saraneth, it's not a crime to feel attraction to someone," he added, softening his tone.

Neferet sighed, "I forgot myself," she admitted, "It will never happen again, trust me there," her tone was cold, and a little whispery, which sounded odd together. Then she turned entirely professional and said "Now for our challenge. One lucky listener can come meet me, so here's what you have to do. I'm going to sing something and once I stop, caller thirteen gets to tell me what it's called. It's my original song that I performed last Friday. But before that, Seether's on, with Love her," Neferet turned on the familiar song and powered down the microphone.

"Love her? Is that you admitting something?" Xynox asked, pointing the title out, feeling like he'd won.

Neferet scowled at him, flicking the lyric sheet at him, "Love her, Xynox is a euphemism. The singer might have some sort of feelings, but the only time he says 'love her' is followed by 'if you pay'," Neferet explained.

Xynox skimmed the depressing lyrics, about the sad life of a woman who sells her body. "What are you trying to prove?" he asked. He knew she was going to be angry, infuriated even, but he wanted to be an equal to her.

Neferet whirled on him. "I do not need to prove anything to you!" she cried, not sure why he was so determined to piss her off. She walked off to the recording studio, where the band was waiting. The guitarist smiled as she entered "so now you arrive? I had to try to sing your part," he whined, running his hands through his spiked up hair.

Neferet narrowed her eyes at him, but didn't respond. It wasn't him she was angry at. She turned on the recording studio. "This is Saraneth, live from the recording studio. Remember, caller thirteen, if you remember the title, you can win it," I announced "enough talk, though,"

"Beat me to the ground
And watch as I burn down
But it's a short victory
And you'll be sure to remember me

I'm the stalemate
You love to hate
And I'll escape
I'm the one that haunts your dreams
Killing you while you're killing me" the guitarist let loose his first solo, fingers flying faster than Neferet could contemplate.

"I can survive to see you die
I can live my daily lie
You'll regret crossing me
and you'll never forget what I can be

You won't have 'such things' I won't take it
You wish me 'the best', but that's full of shit
I will not—cannot
I will not—cannot live with this.

I'm the stalemate
You love to hate
And I'll escape
I'm the one that haunts your dreams
Killing you while you're killing me
And you thought you could forget
well I'll make you regret!" then, it changed from heavy, loud, ear piercing music to a quieter, more smooth tone.

"A phoenix," she sang, the voice striking a minor chord to the instruments, "I can rise
but I won't lie
I hide the scars behind
behind the one that's going to take your life," there was a final, ear-piercing chord and Neferet finished it. She smiled at her band. "Well done, everyone," she smirked.

Meanwhile, someone listening reached for the phone, muttering a spell to ensure she got the spot. She had to prove that the radio announcer wasn't who she thought they were. There was no way she could have that much in common with her enemy. As the host answered, telling her she'd won, she smirked. If this was who she thought they were, she'd have some fun at the meeting.

Neferet answered the phone line "This is the 131.98 Nights contest. What's the song title?"

The caller replied easily "killing you. You've also titled it Arthur, but the producer shut you down. Didn't like real person references," she replied, her voice sounding sly and knowing. Maybe because she was sly and knew too much.

Neferet shook her head, dismissing the idea that this person had an ulterior motive. "Well, I think that scored you your ticket. What's your name?" Neferet asked, hoping she'd just get it over with and leave early.

"Frozen Spirit. You, however can call me Alice," Neferet shivered at Frozen—Alice's tone as she whispered the name into the earpiece. Yet another thing she didn't need to remember

"Well, then I'll be seeing you tomorrow. And you all will be hearing from me later. This concludes Nights with Saraneth," she left the room after hitting the microphone button. She glared at Xynox and grabbed his sleeve, not trusting herself to avoid making a scene for the producer. The drive back was silent, she gritted her teeth and refused to speak, clutching the wheel so hard her nails pierced the leather. Neferet wanted blood and death and Darkness. Instead, she was going to have to settle for some more mortal, less satisfying solution.

Xynox could feel her anger. He felt like he was using her for it, because as a vessel, he fed off it. He figured drinking in her anger might help her get rid of it, but either there was that much of it, or that wasn't how it worked. Xynox shouldn't have spoken on her show. That was where he'd gone wrong.

Neferet pulled into the driveway and grabbed Xynox, again, dragging him by the sleeve. The sleeve began to tear, but Neferet kept dragging until he was in the house, not at his normal paced walking, but at her speed.

"If you were anyone else, I would've killed you by now!" Neferet fumed, trying to get it out by screaming at him, rather than by slowly tearing him apart with her nails. Not that that was half as satisfying.

"So, why are you holding on to me then?" Xynox shot back, equally loud. He was through with this. He may be a vessel, but she was treating him like dirt. Xynox might have thought of it as fair before, but he was done with the way she treated him.

"Shut up!" Neferet screamed, slapping him hard and letting her crimson nails etch lines in his cheek. Tiny rivulets of blood ran down his cheek, like tears. There were four lines, the middle one the deepest.

Xynox wondered if she would kill him, panicking a little at the thought and looking around to see if he had anywhere to run. Before he could do anything, she'd seized his face.

The smell hit Neferet like a ton of bricks. She had never been more tempted to feed. Particularly since she'd been drinking only bagged blood, which had begun to grow ever scarcer as the High Council realized it was being sent to her. Not thinking so much as feeling, she licked the dripping blood, sampling to see if the blood of a vessel would do anything for her.

Xynox made a whimper-like noise, as Neferet licked higher, revelling in the sensations this was causing him. She closed all but the deepest gash, which she drank from. Xynox slowly sat down to the couch, Neferet sitting down on the arm of the couch, with her legs going over Xynox's lap, not wanting to sit on the vessel. Xynox groaned, not knowing anything could feel this good.

Neferet slid off the arm of the couch, sliding into Xynox's lap. As the pleasure that his blood gave her surged through her, Neferet stifled a cry, not wanting to start making her own sounds. If Xynox knew what this did to her... Xynox's threaded his hands into her hair as she continued her ministrations. Neferet realized in the back of her head that if she took any more, she might imprint with the vessel, and she didn't need him in her head. She licked the cut shut and stood up. "I think I've found something you are good for," she mused. Xynox sighed a little.

"I don't think I even mind you using me," he admitted, still not fully satisfied. He wondered why the enigmatic vampyre had done all this. Had he wanted to gloat, he would've pointed out that she'd started this entirely, but he'd just take the victory in stride. Neferet looked at the clock, seeing it was close to six am. The workers would be getting up now to go to their office jobs. Normally, she stayed up far later, but today was not normal. Feeling sated, she left to sleep.

Xynox, on the other hand, curled up there on the couch, to catch a few hours of sleep before his job began. He worked unloading merchandise into the warehouse of a large store. It was a menial task, but it made him a bit of money. He figured once he got a promotion, he'd be able to pay his share of the rent on the small structure. Then he might be able to move off the couch.

Xynox was about to leave the house when it happened...

Neferet fell asleep quickly, but not into a restful sleep. She was in the Mayo, gazing down at Tulsa as it burned. What didn't make sense was why Kalona was in here, pacing. The screams of the people who were dying was satisfying to her as Darkness licked up her arms.

"What troubles you?" she asked, perplexed as to why they were back in Tulsa, and why he was with her.

That was when an older-looking Zoey Redbird whipped the door open. Kalona then pinned Neferet to the wall. Neferet fought him, but Zoey was too fast "Cyrce! You have to bring our guests!" she called. Cyrce arrived with Arthur, the two of them followed by a face from Neferet's darkest nightmares. His black eyes lit up as his thin, pale lips twisted up into a smirk. "Emily, you haven't aged more than a decade," he jeered, his hand going to her face, stroking down from there. Neferet jerked, trying to move, but despite Kalona releasing his hold on her, she couldn't move.

Arthur smiled twistedly. He and Cyrce stared at each other, more wordless staring into each other's eyes. That was when Neferet looked down to see she was wearing that damned dress, again. With Cyrce watching, Father began to pull the neck of the dress down and she screamed, trying to summon the Darkness, but Cyrce had invoked it to show Arthur.

Xynox felt a surge of fear and he ran for Neferet's room, his own sleep be damned. He whipped the door open, to see the vampyre flailing atop her bed. Xynox did the only thing he could think of, actibng purely based on the adrenaline her fear gave him. Xynox lay behind her, and grabbed her hand. "Neferet," he said insistently, "Neferet? Please wake up!"

Neferet felt something behind her, but in her dream there was only wall. Then, a hand laced its fingers through hers. Then, she heard the voice of her vessel calling to her. She snapped awake to see Xynox beside her, holding her hand. He seemed to radiate calm, the same calm Blake Winters had been full of. Neferet relaxed a little. Not speaking, merely moving her face to lie on his shoulder. Neferet didn't care if she was leading the vessel on, she just wanted to feel the slow, reassuring throb of his heartbeat, smell the scent of his hair, and feel a little safer. Neferet didn't care what would happen next, she just wanted his presence, to reassure her that she was in this world, not the realm of her nightmares.

A/N: Lyrics to Killing You/Arthur are property of KShade, in this case LAmourEncore (a subsidiary of KShade and Indigo Halfmoon Dauntless) All rights reserved.