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barely old enough to have been Marked, let alone to have gone through the Change,” Diana said, tempering her rather harsh question with a smile.
    “Diana!” Pandeia’s voice was gentle, but her look was tinged with disapproval as she frowned at her strikingly beautiful mate. “I did not invite Anastasia here to interrogate her.”
    “No, I do not mind the question, Priestess. Actually, I am becoming used to it,” she said to Pandeia. Then she turned her gaze to Diana. Anastasia lifted her chin just a little. “I am twenty-two years old. My mentor priestess in Pennsylvania told me she believed me to be the youngest vampyre in America to be made a full professor. It is an honor I will try to live up to by being diligent and serious about my classroom and my students.”
    “Daughter, I have no doubt you are diligent and serious, but what I would like you to be is earthsome as well,” Pandeia said.
    “Earthsome? Forgive me, Priestess, I do not know that word.”
    “To be earthsome is to take on the characteristics of the earth. Be vibrant like a cluster of wildflowers, fertile like a field of wheat, sensual as an orchard of ripe peaches. Do not simply feel connected to the land; let it infuse you with its wonders.”
    “And remember that you are a vampyre priestess and professor. There is no need for you to dress like an oppressed human schoolmarm,” Diana added.
    “I—I do not want to appear frivolous,” Anastasia admitted hesitantly, glancing down at the high-necked, unadorned bodice and straight, long skirt she’d worn—and loathed—since she’d joined the Tower Grove House of Night and begun teaching two weeks ago. “I am so close in age to my students that it is sometimes difficult for them to remember I am a professor.”
    Pandeia nodded in understanding. “But the simple truth is that you are close to the age of many of our fledglings. My advice is to make that a strength rather than something against which you battle.”
    “I agree,” Diana said. “Use your youth as an asset instead of trying to hide it behind clothes any of your elders who have decent taste would never think of wearing–” She paused and gestured first at the flowing Grecian-styled gown she wore, and then at the high-waisted Spanish-style gauchos and the plunging neckline of the white lace blouse her mate wore.
    “Anastasia, what Diana is trying to convey to you is that there is nothing wrong with being young,” Pandeia picked up the thread of the conversation. “I am quite sure the female fledglings feel comfortable coming to you with concerns they would not have the courage to mention to any of the rest of us.”
    Anastasia sighed in relief, having been given the perfect opportunity to speak of what was foremost on her mind. “Yes, that has already proven true. It is, actually, why I sought you out this night.”
    Pandeia frowned. “Is there is a problem among the students I should be made aware of?”
    “You mean one other than Jesse Biddle?” Diana said the name as if just speaking it left a bitter taste in her mouth.
    “Biddle is a problem for all of us, vampyres and students alike, especially since the misguided humans of St. Louis made him their sheriff,” Pandeia said. Then her gaze narrowed as she studied Anastasia. “Has he been harassing our fledglings?”
    “No, not that I know of.” Anastasia paused, and swallowed past the dryness in her throat, trying to order her thoughts so that her High Priestess would find value in her words. “The fledglings do not like Sherriff Biddle, but he is not the focus of their conversations. Someone else is, and in my opinion, he is creating quite a problem within the House of Night itself.”
    “Who has you so worried?”
    “The fledgling they call Dragon Lankford,” Anastasia said.
    Both vampyres were silent for too many beats of Anastasia’s heart. Then it appeared as if Diana tried to conceal a smile by taking a long drink of her wine while Pandeia cocked an