by P. C. Cast
I gasped in horror and tore my gaze from his blood, meaning to look away from the gory dream scene, but my vision got trapped because it was no longer Neferet who was feeding at Chris’s throat. It was Loren Blake, and his eyes were smiling up at me over the river of red. I couldn’t look away. I stared and stared and . . .
My dreaming body shivered as a familiar voice drifted in the air around me. At first the whisper was so soft I couldn’t hear it, but as Loren drank the last drop of Chris’s blood the words became audible as well as visible. They danced in the air around me with a silver light that was as familiar as the voice.
. . . Remember, darkness does not always equate to evil, just as light does not always bring good.
My eyelids jerked open and I sat up, breathing hard. Feeling shaky and slightly sick to my stomach, I looked at my clock: 12:30. I stifled a groan. I’d only slept for two hours. No wonder I felt so crappy. Quietly I went into the bathroom I shared with Stevie Rae to splash water on my face and try to wash away my grogginess. Too bad washing away the awful foreboding feeling the bizarre dream had given me wasn’t as easy.
No way was I going to be able to sleep now. I walked listlessly over to our heavily curtained window and peeked out. It was a gray day. Low clouds obscured the sun and a light, constant drizzle made everything look blurred. It matched my mood perfectly, and it also made the daylight bearable. How long had it been since I’d gone outside during the day anyway? I thought about it and realized that I hadn’t seen more than an occasional dawn in a good month. I shivered. And suddenly I couldn’t stay inside for another instant. It felt claustrophobic, tomblike, coffinlike.
I went into the bathroom and opened the little glass jar that held the concealer that completely covered fledgling tattoos. When I’d first arrived at the House of Night I’d had a mini-panic attack when I’d realized that until I entered the school grounds, I’d never seen a fledgling. I mean ever. Naturally, I thought that meant that the vamps kept fledglings locked inside the walls of the school for four years. It didn’t take long to find out the truth: fledglings had quite a bit of freedom, but if they chose to go outside the school walls they needed to follow two very important rules. First, they had to cover their Mark and not wear anything that bore any of the distinctive class insignias.
Second (and, to me, most important), once a fledgling entered the House of Night, he or she must stay in close proximity with adult vamps. The Change from human to vampyre was a bizarre and complex one—not even today’s cutting-edge science completely understood it. But one thing was certain about the Change, if a fledgling was cut off from contact with adult vampyres, the process escalated and the teenager died. Every time. So, we could leave the school for shopping and whatnot, but if we stayed away from the vamps for more than a few hours our bodies would begin the rejection process and we’d die. It was no wonder that before I’d been Marked I thought I’d never seen a fledgling. I probably had, but (a) he/she/they had had all Marks covered, and (b) he/she/they understood that they couldn’t just loiter about like typical teenagers. They’d been there, but they’d just been busy and disguised.
The reason for the disguise made sense, too. It wasn’t about wanting to hide amid humans and spy or whatever ridiculous things humans would assume. The truth was that humans and vampyres coexisted in an uneasy state of peace. Broadcasting that fledglings actually left the school and went shopping and to the movies like normal kids was asking for trouble and exaggeration. I could just imagine what people like my horrid step-loser would say. Probably that vamp teenagers were hanging out in gangs, engaging in all sorts of sinful juvenile delinquent behavior. He was such an ass. But he wouldn’t be the only human adult who freaked. Clearly the vamp rules made sense.
Resolutely, I stared, patting the concealer on the sapphire Marks that told the world what I was. It was amazing how well the stuff covered up Marks. As my darkened-in crescent moon disappeared, along with the small network of blue spirals that framed my eyes, I watched the old Zoey reappear and wasn’t quite sure how I felt about her. Okay, I knew there’d been a lot more changed within me than a few tattoos could represent, but the absence of Nyx’s Mark was shocking. It gave me a weird, unexpected sense of loss.
Looking back, I should have listened to my internal hesitation, scrubbed my face, grabbed a good book, and gone directly back to bed.
Instead, I whispered, “You look really young,” to my reflection, and pulled on my jeans and a black sweater. Then I rummaged (quietly—if I woke up Stevie Rae or Nala no way would I get out of there alone) through my dresser drawers until I found my old Borg Invasion 4D hoodie and put it on, along with my comfy black Pumas, and with my OSU trucker’s hat securely on my head and my cool Maui Jim sunglasses I was ready. Before I could (wisely) change my mind, I grabbed my purse and tiptoed out of the room.
No one was in the main room of the dorm. I opened the door and took a deep breath to steady myself before I walked outside. The whole vampyres-burst-into-flames-if-sun-touches-them thing was a ridiculous lie, but it is true that daylight causes adult vamps pain. As a fledgling who was weirdly “advanced” in the Change process, it’s definitely uncomfortable for me, but I gritted my teeth and stepped out into the drizzle.
The campus looked totally deserted. It was weird not to pass one student or vamp all along the sidewalk that wound around behind the main building (which still reminded me of a castle) to the parking lot. My vintage 1966 VW Bug was easy to find amid the slick, expensive cars the vamps preferred. Its dependable engine sputtered for only a second, then it turned over and hummed like it was brand-new.
I tapped the garage door opener-like keypad that Neferet had given me after Grandma had brought my car to me. The wrought-iron gate to the school swung open silently.
Despite the fact that even the weak, foggy daylight bothered my eyes and made my skin feel twitchy, my mood lightened as soon as I was outside the school gates. It’s not that I hated the House of Night or anything like that. Actually, the school and my friends there had become my home and family. It was just that today I needed something more. I needed to feel normal again—normal as in pre-Marked Zoey, when my biggest worry was geometry class and the only “power” I had was the eerie ability to find cute shoes on sale.
Actually, shopping sounded like a good idea. Utica Square was less than a mile down the street from the House of Night, and I loved the American Eagle store there. My wardrobe had, tragically, become overstocked in dark colors like purple, black, and navy since I’d been Marked. A bright red sweater was exactly what I needed.
I parked in the less used lot behind the row of stores that American Eagle sat in the middle of. The trees in this lot were bigger, so I liked the shade, along with the fact that there were fewer people in the back lot. I know my reflection showed a normal teenage kid, but inside I was still Marked, and more than a little nervous about my first daylight trip into my old world.
Not that I expected to run into anyone I knew. I was the one my high school friends had called “weird” and “out there” because I liked to shop in the chic midtown stores versus the loud, boring, food court–smelling mall. Grandma Redbird was responsible for my out-of-the-ordinary tastes. She used to call it “field-tripping” when she’d take me all over Tulsa on fun day trips. No way was I going to run into Kayla and the Broken Arrow crowd at Utica, and pretty soon the familiar smells and sights of American Eagle were working their retail magic on me. By the time I paid for the totally cute red knit sweater my stomach had quit hurting, and despite the fact that it was the middle of the day and I was sleep-deprived, my headache was gone, too.
But I was starving. There was a Starbucks across the street from American Eagle. It was on the corner that framed a pretty, shady courtyard in the middle of the square. With the wet, dreary day I would bet no one would be sitting at the little iron tables on the wide, tree-lined sidewalk. I could get a yummy cappuccino, one of their mega-big blueberry muffins, a copy of the Tulsa World, and sit outside
and pretend like I was a college kid.
It seemed like a seriously good plan. I was totally right—there was no one sitting in the outside tables, and I snagged the one closest to the big magnolia tree and set about putting the proper amount of raw sugar in my cappuccino as I nibbled at my mountain-sized muffin.
I don’t remember when I first felt his presence. It started subtly, like a weird itch under my skin. I moved restlessly in my chair, trying to concentrate on the movie page and thinking that maybe I could talk Erik into checking out the latest chick flick next weekend . . . But I couldn’t pay attention to the movie reviews. The annoying, under-my-skin feeling wouldn’t go away. Completely irritated I glanced up and froze.
Heath was standing under a streetlight not fifteen feet away from me.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Heath was taping some kind of flyer to the light post. I could see his face clearly and it surprised me how handsome he looked. Okay, sure, I’d known him since third grade and watched him go from cute to gawky to cute to hot, but I’d never seen this look on him. His face was set in grim, nonsmiling lines that made him appear much older than eighteen. It was like I was catching a glimpse of the man he would turn into—and it was a nice glimpse. He was tall and blond, with high cheekbones and a really strong chin. Even from that distance I could see the thick eyelashes that were surprisingly dark, and knew the gentle brown eyes they framed.
And then, as if he could feel my gaze, his eyes slid from the light post and locked on me. I watched his body go completely still, and then a shudder ran through it, as if someone had blown freezing air across his skin.
I should have gotten up and retreated into Starbucks, where it was busy with clusters of people talking and laughing, and where it would be impossible for Heath and me to really be alone. But I didn’t. I just sat there as he dropped the flyers. They fluttered around the sidewalk like dying birds as he walked quickly over to me. He stood across the little table without saying anything for what seemed like forever. I didn’t know what to do, especially because I was unexpectedly nervous. Finally I couldn’t stand the intense silence any longer.
“Hi, Heath.”
His body jerked like someone had just jumped out from behind a door and scared the crap right outta him.
“Shit!” The word left his mouth in a rush of air. “You’re really here!”
I frowned at him. He’d never been exactly brilliant, but even for him this sounded pretty dumb. “Of course I’m here. What did you think I was, a ghost?”
He dropped into the chair across from me as if his legs wouldn’t hold him anymore. “Yes. No. I dunno. It’s just that I see you a lot and you’re never really there. I thought this was just another one of those times.”
“Heath, what are you talking about?” I narrowed my eyes and sniffed in his direction. “Are you drunk?”
He shook his head.
“High?”
“No. I haven’t had a drink in a month. I quit smoking then, too.”
The words sounded simple, but I blinked and felt like I was trying to reason through mind mud. “You quit drinking?”
“And smoking. I quit it all. That’s one of the reasons I’ve been calling you so much. I wanted you to know that I’ve changed.”
I really didn’t know what to say. “Oh, well. I’m, uh, glad.” I know I sounded like a moron, but the way Heath’s eyes were focused on me was almost a physical thing. And there was something else. I could smell him. It wasn’t a cologne smell, or a sweaty guy smell. It was a deep, seductive scent that reminded me of heat and moonlight and sexy dreams. It was coming from his pores and it made me want to scoot my chair around the table so that I could be closer to him.
“Why didn’t you return any of my calls? You didn’t even text me back.”
I blinked, trying to block the attraction I was feeling for him and think clearly. “Heath, there’s no point. There can’t be anything between you and me,” I said reasonably.
“You know there’s already something between us.”
I shook my head and opened my mouth to explain to him how wrong he was, but he interrupted me.
“Your Mark! It’s gone.”
I hated his excited tone, and automatically snapped back, “You’re wrong again. My Mark’s not gone. It’s just covered so the stupid humans around here won’t freak out.” I ignored the hurt look that seemed to take all the adultness out of his face and turn him back into that cute boy I used to be so crazy about. “Heath,” I softened my voice. “My Mark will never go away. I’m either going to Change into a vampyre, or I’m going to die in the next three years. Those are my only two choices. I’ll never be like I was. It can never be like it used to be between us.” I paused, and then added gently, “I’m sorry.”
“Zo, I get that. What I don’t get is why any of that has to end things between us.”
“Heath, things had ended between us before I was Marked, remember?” I said, exasperated.
Instead of his usual cocky comeback he kept looking into my eyes, and utterly sober and serious, said, “That’s because I was acting like a jerk. You hated that I was getting drunk and high. And you were right. I was messing up. I’ve stopped that. Now I’m focusing on football and my grades so that I can get into OSU.” He gave me the adorable, little-boy smile that’s been melting my heart since third grade. “That’s where my girlfriend will be going, too. She’s gonna be a vet. A vampyre vet.”
“Heath—I—” I hesitated, working hard to swallow back the huge lump that was suddenly burning my throat and making me want to cry. “I don’t know if being a vet is still what I want to do, and even if it is, that doesn’t mean you and I can be together.”
“You’re seeing someone else.” He didn’t sound mad, he just sounded extremely sad. “I don’t remember much from that night. I’ve tried, but whenever I think too hard about it, everything gets all jumbled up into one nightmare that doesn’t make any sense and I get a really bad headache.”
I sat very still. I knew he was talking about the Samhain Ritual he’d followed me to where Aphrodite had lost control of vampyre ghosts. Heath had almost been killed. Erik had been there, and as Neferet had said then, he had proven himself a warrior when he’d stayed by Heath’s side and fought the specters, giving me time to cast my own circle and send the ghosts back to wherever it is they’d slithered away from. The last time I’d seen Heath he’d been unconscious and bleeding from multiple lacerations. Neferet had assured me that she would heal his wounds and fog his memory. Clearly, the fog had grown thin.
“Heath, don’t think about that night. It’s over and done with and better if—”
“You were there with someone,” he interrupted me. “Are you going out with him?”
I sighed. “Yes.”
“Give me a chance to get you back, Zo.”
I shook my head, even though his words tugged at my heart. “No, Heath, it’s impossible.”
“Why?” He slid his hand across the table and put it on top of mine. “I don’t care about the vampyre stuff. You’re still Zoey. The same Zoey I’ve known forever. The Zoey who was the first girl I ever kissed. The Zoey who knows me better than anyone else on this earth. The Zoey I dream about every night.”
His scent drifted up to me from his hand, hot and delicious, and I could feel his pulse thumping against my fingers. I didn’t want to tell him, but I had to. I looked him straight in the eyes and said, “The reason you’re not over me is because when I tasted your blood that time on the school wall I started to Imprint with you. So you want me because that’s what happens when a vampyre, or apparently some fledglings, drink blood from a human victim. Neferet, our High Priestess, says that you haven’t Imprinted all the way with me, and if I just stay away from you it’ll fade and you’ll be normal again and forget about me, so that’s what I’ve been doing.” I finished in a rush. I knew he’d probably freak out and call me a monster or something, but I really hadn’t had a choice, and now that he knew he could put all of
this in perspective and—
His laughter interrupted my mental tirade. He’d thrown back his head and was laughing with typical Heath exuberance, and the familiar, sweet, silly sound of it made it really hard for me not to smile at him.
“What?” I said, trying to frown.
“Oh, Zo, you crack me up.” He squeezed my hand. “I’ve been crazy about you since I was eight. Like that had anything to do with you sucking my blood?”
“Heath, believe me, we’ve started to Imprint.”
“I’m cool with that.” He grinned at me.
“Will you also be cool with me outliving you by several hundred years?”
Dorklike, he wagged his eyebrows at me. “I can think of worse things than having a hot, young vampyre chic when I’m, like, fifty.”
I rolled my eyes. He was such a guy. “Heath, it’s not that simple. There’re a lot of things to consider.”
