House Of Night Chosen

Chosen

House of Night Book 3

P.C. Cast & Kristin Cast Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com)

CHAPTER ONE

"Yep, I have a seriously sucky birthday," I told my cat, Nala.

(Okay, truthfully she's not so much my cat as I'm her person.
You know how it is with cats: They don't really have owners, they
have staff. A fact I mostly try to ignore.)

Anyway, I kept talking to the cat as if she hung on my every

word, which is soooo not the case. "It's been seventeen years of
sucky December twenty-fourth birthdays. I'm totally used to it by
now. No big deal." I knew I was saying the words just to convince
myself. Nala "mee-uf-owed" at me in her grumpy-old-lady cat voice
and then settled down to lick her privates, clearly showing that she
understood I was full of b.s.

"Here's the deal," I continued as I finished smudging a little
liner on my eyes. (And I mean a little—the line-your-eyes-till-youlook-like-a-scary-raccoon is definitely
not the look for me. Actually,
it's not the look for anyone.) "I'm gonna get a bunch of well-
meaning presents that aren't really birthday presents— they're stuff
that's Christmas themed because people always try to mush my
birthday with Christmas, and that seriously doesn't work." I met
Nala's big green eyes in the mirror. "But we're going to smile and
pretend we're fine with the dorky birthmas gifts because people do
not get that they can't mush a birthday into Christmas. At least not
successfully."

Nala sneezed.

"Exactly how I feel about it, but we'll be nice 'cause it's even
worse when I say something. Then I get crappy gifts and everyone's
upset and things turn all awkward." Nala didn't look convinced, so I
focused my attention on my reflection. For a second I thought I
might have gone too heavy on the eyeliner, but I looked closer and
realized that what was making my eyes look so huge and dark
wasn't anything as ordinary as eyeliner. Even though it had been
two months since I'd been Marked to become a vampyre, the
sapphire-colored crescent-moon tattoo between my eyes and the
elaborate filigree of interlocking lacework tattoos that framed my
face still had the ability to surprise me. I traced one of the curving
jewel-blue spiral lines with the tip of my finger. Then almost
without conscious thought I pulled the already wide neck of my
black sweater down so that it exposed my left shoulder. With a flick
of my head I tossed back my long dark hair so that the unusual
pattern of tattoos that began at the base of my neck and spread over
my shoulder and down either side of my spine to the small of my
back was visible. As always, the sight of my tattoos gave me an Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com)

electric thrill that was part wonder and part fear.

"You're not like anyone else," I whispered to my reflection.
Then I cleared my throat and continued in an overly perky voice.
"And it's okay not to be like anyone else." I rolled my eyes at
myself. "Whatever." I looked up over my head, half surprised that it
wasn't visible. I mean, I could definitely feel the ginormic dark
cloud that had been following me around for the past month. "Hell,
I'm surprised it's not raining in here. And wouldn't that be just great
for my hair?" I sarcastically told my reflection. Then I sighed and
picked up the envelope I'd laid on my desk, THE HEFFER FAMILY was
embossed in gold above the sparkling return address. "Speaking of
depressing…" I muttered.

Nala sneezed again.

"You're right. Might as well get it over with." I reluctantly
opened the envelope and pulled out the card. "Ah, hell. It's worse
than I thought." There was a huge wooden cross on the front of the
card. Staked to the middle of the cross (with a bloody nail) was an
old time scroll-like paper. Written (in blood, of course) were the
words: He IS the reason for the season. Inside the card was printed
(in red letters): MERRY CHRISTMAS. Below that, in my mom's
handwriting, it said: I hope you're remembering your family during
this blessed time of the year. Happy Birthday, Love, Mom