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lion’s den?”
    “I’m thinkin’ it’s more like headin’ into a nasty wasp nest,” Kramisha said. “But I’m ready.”
    “Me, too. Let’s cowboy up and get this done.”
    “Deal,” I said.
    “Deal,” they repeated.
    And we walked into a future that was already making my stomach clench and feel like a raging IBS episode was going to hit me at any moment.
    Ah, hell.

 
    CHAPTER THREE
    Kalona
    He didn’t have to fly long to find his sons. Kalona followed the thread that connected him to his offspring. My loyal children, he thought as he circled the tree-covered rolling hills of the less populated and heavily wooded land that was just a short distance southwest of Tulsa. At the very topmost part of the highest of the ridges Kalona dropped from the sky, easily navigating between the thick, winter nude branches to stand in the middle of a small clearing. Around him, built into the trees themselves, were three wooden structures, crude but sturdily made. Kalona’s sharp gaze saw into the windows of the structures where scarlet orbs glowed in his direction.
    He opened his arms. “Yes, my sons, I have returned!” The sound of wings was balm to his soul. They burst from the raised shacks and knelt around him, bowing low and respectfully. Kalona counted them—seven.
    “Where are the others?”
    All of the Raven Mockers stirred restlessly, but only one face tilted up to meet his gaze and only one hissing voice responded.
    “Wessst hiding. Lossst in the land.”
    Kalona studied his son, Nisroc, cataloguing the differences between this Raven Mocker and the one who used to be his favorite child. Nisroc was nearly as evolved as Rephaim. His speech was almost human. His mind was almost sharp. But it had been that almost, that fine line between them, that had made Rephaim the son upon which Kalona had depended and not Nisroc.
    Kalona clenched and unclenched his jaw. He had been foolish to lavish such attention on Rephaim alone. He had many sons from which to choose and to show favor. It was Rephaim who had lost when he’d chosen to leave. Rephaim had but one father, and he would find poor substitute in an absent goddess and a vampyre who could never truly love him. “It is good that you are here,” Kalona said, cutting off thoughts of his absent son. “But I would have preferred that all of you stayed together and awaited my return.”
    “Hold them, I could not,” Nisroc said. “Rephaim dead—”
    “Rephaim is not dead!” Kalona snapped, causing Nisroc to shudder and bow his head. The winged immortal paused and regained control of his temper before he continued. “Though it would be better for him if he were dead.”
    “Father?”
    “He has chosen to serve the red vampyre Priestess and her Goddess.”
    The group of Raven Mockers hissed and cringed as if he had struck them.
    “Posssible? How?” Nisroc said.
    “It is possible because of females, and their manipulations,” Kalona said darkly. He knew all too well how one could fall prey to them. He’d even been brought low by …
    In sudden realization, the immortal blinked and spoke, more to himself than his son, “But their manipulations do not last!” He shook his head and almost smiled. “Why did I not consider it sooner? Rephaim will tire of being the Red One’s pet, and when he does he will realize what a mistake he has made—a mistake that is not entirely his and his alone. The Red One manipulated him, poisoned him, turned him against me. But it is only temporary! When she rejects him, because ultimately she will, he will leave the House of Night to return to my—”
    Kalona broke off his words, deciding quickly. “Nisroc, take two of your brothers with you. Return to the House of Night. Watch. Be vigilant. Observe Rephaim and the Red One. When opportunity arises speak to him. Tell him that even though he has made this terrible mistake and turned from me…” Kalona paused, clenching and unclenching his jaw, utterly uncomfortable with the