by P. C. Cast
"Not necessarily," she said gently. "Zoey, the future is fluid—it's always changing. I mean, I saw you die twice. Once alone because you were isolated from your friends. Well, they're back to being your moronic Three Musketeers." She paused and added, "Sorry. I know you've been through a bunch of shit tonight. I didn't mean to sound so hateful. But here's the deal. Because the nerd—I mean because you're not isolated anymore, the Zoey-being-killed-alone vision is probably null and void. See, the future changed. When I had the vision that Stark was in at that time he might have been going to live. That could be all changed now."
"But not necessarily?"
"Not necessarily," she agreed reluctantly. "But don't get your hopes up. I'm just Vision Girl, not an expert on stuff like fledglings coming back alive."
"Then what we need is an expert on this whole dead/undead thing." I tried not to sound too hopeful, but I could tell by the sad way Aphrodite looked at me that I wasn't hiding much from her.
"Yeah, well, I hate to say it, but you're right. You need to talk to Stevie Rae."
"I'll go back to my room and call her and have her meet us at Street Cats tomorrow. You think you can keep Darius busy while I talk to her?"
"Oh, please. I'll do more than keep him busy. I'll keep him totally occupied." She purred the words.
"Ugh. Whatever. I just don't want to hear it or see it." Moving on a tide of optimism, I grabbed my brown pop.
"Not a problem there. I'll be happy to keep it private."
"Again I say ugh." I headed to the door. "Hey, how did you get rid of the Twins tonight? Am I going to have to do damage control tomorrow?"
"Simple. I told them if they stayed that we'd be giving each other spa pedicures, and that I was first in line."
"Yeah, I see why they bolted."
Suddenly Aphrodite turned serious. "Zoey, I mean it. Don't get your hopes up about Stark. You know that even if he comes back, he might not be the same. Stevie Rae says the red fledglings are better now, and they are, but they're not normal, and neither is she."
"I know all of that, Aphrodite, but I still say Stevie Rae is fine."
"And I still say we're going to have to agree to disagree about her. I just want you to be careful. Stark's not—"
"Don't!" I put up my hand to cut off her words. "Let me have a little bit of hope. I want to believe there might be a chance for him."
Aphrodite nodded slowly. "I know you do, and that's what worries me."
"I'm too tired to talk about this anymore," I said.
"Okay, I understand. Just think about what I've said." I started to open the door, and she added, "Do you want to stay here tonight? You wouldn't be alone."
"Nah, but thanks. And I'm not really alone in a dorm full of fledglings." With my hand on the knob, I looked over my shoulder at Aphrodite. "Thanks for taking care of me. I do feel better. A lot better."
She waved away my thanks and looked embarrassed. Then sounding more like herself she said, "Don't worry about it. Just figure once you're queen, you'll owe me."
Stevie Rae didn't answer her phone. It went straight to her perky, countrified voice mail. I didn't leave a message. What could I say, "Hi, Stevie Rae. It's Zoey. Hey, a fledgling just bled to death in my arms tonight, and I want to know what happens now. Is he going to come back as an undead dead bloodsucking monster, or is he going to be just kinda odd like you say your fledglings are, or is he gonna stay dead? I'd like to know 'cause even though I just met him, I really care about him. Okay, so call me back!" Uh, no. That wouldn't work.
I sat heavily on my bed and had just begun to wish Nala would show up when my kitty door opened, and my grumpy girl "meeuf-owed" her way across the room, jumped up on my bed, and curled up on my chest, pressing her face against my neck and purring like crazy.
"I'm really, really glad to see you." I petted her ears and kissed the white spot over her nose. "How's Duchess?" She blinked at me, sneezed, and then pressed her head against me and purred some more. I took that to mean the dog was being well taken care of by Jack and Damien.
Feeling better now that Nala was working her purr magic on me, I tried to lose myself in the book I was reading, Ink Exchange by my current favorite vamp author, Melissa Marr, but not even her hot fairies could keep my attention from wandering.
What was I thinking about? Stark, of course. I touched my lips, still feeling his kiss there. What was wrong with me? Why was I letting Stark affect me so much? Okay, yes. He'd died in my arms and that had been awful, truly awful. But there was more than that going on between us, or at least I thought there might be. I closed my eyes and sighed. I didn't need to care about another guy. I wasn't over Erik or Heath.
Okay, the truth was I wasn't over Loren.
No, I wasn't in love with Loren. What I wasn't over was the pain he'd caused me. My heart still hurt, and it wasn't ready to let another guy in.
I remembered Stark taking my hand and weaving his fingers through mine and the way his lips had felt against my skin.
"Crap. I guess no one told my heart it wasn't ready for another guy," I whispered.
What if Stark did come back?
Worse—what if he didn't?
I was tired of losing people. A tear leaked out from under my closed eyelid and I brushed it away. I curled up on my side and pressed my face against Nala's softness. I was just tired. It had been a terrible day. Tomorrow wouldn't look so bad. Tomorrow I'd talk to Stevie Rae, and she'd help me make sense out of what to do about Stark.
But I couldn't sleep. My mind kept whirring around and around, focusing on the mistakes I'd made and the people I'd hurt. Had Stark died as some kind of penalty for how badly I'd hurt Erik and Heath?
No! My rational mind told me. That's ridiculous! Nyx doesn't work like that. But my guilty conscience whispered darker things. You can't hurt people as badly as you hurt Erik and Heath without a payback.
Stop it! I told myself. Plus, Erik didn't look so devastated today. Actually he looked like a jerk, and not like someone whose heart was broken.
No, that wasn't right either. Erik and I had been falling in love when I messed up with Loren. What did I expect Erik to do—walk around crying and begging me to come back to him? Hell no. I'd hurt him, and he really wasn't being a jerk—he was trying to protect his heart from me.
I didn't have to see Heath to know that I'd broken his heart, too. I knew him well enough to know exactly how badly I'd hurt him. He'd been a part of my life since we'd had our first crushes on each other in grade school. He'd always been there—from the puppy love stuff to the boyfriend/girlfriend middle school phase, to the "going out" stage in high school and, finally and more recently, the I've-Imprinted-him-and-want-to-suck-his-blood-and-whatnot stage. The whatnot is a nice way of saying that Imprinting and drinking a human's blood triggers sex receptors in the fledgling and the human's brains, so I had been thinking of doing more with Heath than just sucking his blood. Yes, I know that sounds skanky, but at least I'm being honest with myself.
So, Heath and I had Imprinted, but then I'd had sex with Loren and Imprinted with him during the Act (it's still weird to think that I'm not a virgin anymore—weird as in disturbing and kinda scary), which broke my Imprint with Heath. Painfully and horribly, if what Loren had told me was true. And I haven't talked to Heath since.
And Stark thought he was a coward for wanting to avoid pain? Compared to me, I'd definitely say not hardly. I wondered if the connection Stark and I had felt would have lasted through him finding out about all the stuff in my past. I mean, he'd come pretty clean with me, but I hadn't told him crap about myself.
And there was a lot of crap to tell. Not to mention a lot of loose ends I hadn't tied up.
I'd been avoiding Heath because I knew I'd hurt him. And, since I was being honest with myself, I had to admit that another part of why I'd been avoiding Heath had a lot to do with being afraid of his reaction to me.
Heath was nothing if he wasn't dependable. I could depend on the fact that he was crazy about me. I
could depend on the fact that he'd been my boyfriend (sometimes whether I wanted him to be or not) since third grade. I could depend on the fact that he'd always been there for me.
Suddenly I realized that I needed Heath. Tonight I felt bruised and battered and confused, and I needed to know that I hadn't lost all of them . . . that one of them really loved me, even if I didn't deserve it.
My cell phone was charging on my nightstand. I flipped it open and quickly text-messaged him before I could chicken out.
How r u?
I'd start simple, just a little message. When he answered, if he answered, I'd go from there.
I curled back up with Nala and tried to sleep.
After what seemed like forever, I checked the time. It was almost 8:30 A.M. Okay, so, Heath was asleep. He was still on winter break, and if the kid didn't have to get up and go to school, he slept until noon. Literally. So he's asleep, I repeated stubbornly to myself.
That wouldn't have mattered before, my mind lectured me right back. Before he would have texted me back in about a second and begged me to meet him somewhere. Heath would never have slept through a text from me.
Maybe I should call him.
And hear him tell me he doesn't ever want to see me ever again? I chewed my lip and felt sick. No. No, I couldn't do that. Not after what had happened tonight. I couldn't bear to hear him say mean things to me. Reading them would be bad enough.
If he answered.
Cuddling with Nala, I tried to focus on her purr engine and let it drown out the silence of my cell phone.
Tomorrow, I told myself as I started to drift off to restless sleep. If I don't hear from Heath tomorrow, I'll call him.
Right before I fell completely asleep, I swear I heard the creepy sound of a raven right outside my window.
CHAPTER 14
I hadn't needed to set my alarm to go off at five o'clock that evening (which is really my morning—remember, a fledgling's day and night are mixed up, as in our school starts at 8 P.M. and ends at 3 A.M.). I'd been lying there wide awake, petting Nala and trying not to think about Stark or Heath or Erik when my alarm beeped at me.
Groggily I stumbled around my room, pulling on a pair of jeans and a black sweater. I stared at myself in the mirror. Okay, just ugh. I had to get some sleep tonight—the bags under my eyes had bags.
Nala had just arched her back and hissed at the door when someone pounded on it.
"Zoey! Would you hurry the hell up?"
I opened the door to see a disgruntled Aphrodite dressed in a very short (and very cute) black wool skirt, a deep purple pullover, and to-die-for black boots. She was tapping one of those boots in irritation.
"What?" I said.
"I know I've told you this before, but you are slow as a fat kid on crutches," she said.
"Aphrodite, you're mean. I know I've told you that before, too," I said, trying to blink the grogginess from my eyes and somehow think it from my mind. "And I'm not slow, I'm ready," I finally added.
"No, you're not. Your Mark isn't even covered."
"Ah, jeesh. I forgot about—" My eyes automatically went to her forehead, which was completely clear of a fledgling Mark.
"Yeah, one of the few advantages of pretending that I'm a fledgling is that I don't have to worry about covering up my Mark when I go off campus." Aphrodite's tone was flippant, but I could see the hurt in her eyes.
"Hey, remember what Nyx said. You're still special to her."
Aphrodite rolled her eyes. "Yeah, special. Whatever. Would you just hurry up? Darius is waiting, and you still have to tell Shekinah I'm going with you."
"And I need my bowl of cereal," I said as I slathered concealer on over the intricate tattoos of my Mark.
"No time for that," Aphrodite said while we hurried down the stairs. "We have to get to Street Cats before the stupid humans close up shop and scuttle away to their ridiculously middle class homes."
"You're a stupid human," I whispered.
"I'm a special human," she corrected me, and in an equally low voice, she continued. "When's Stevie Rae meeting us? She'll be cool if we're a little late, right?"
"Ah, crap!" I whispered. "I didn't get her last night."
"I'm not surprised. Cell service in those tunnels sucks. I'll make excuses to Darius about why you're late. You call her again. This time let's hope you get her."
"I know, I know," I said.
"Hey, Z!" Shaunee called as Aphrodite and I passed by the kitchen.
"How are ya feelin' this morning? Better?" Erin asked.
"I am—thanks, guys," I said, smiling at them. The Twins were beyond resilient. It took more than another brush with death to freak them out for very long.
"Excellent. We got your box of Count Chocula right here," Erin said.
"Hey, Dorkamese Twins, you two want to take me up on some pedicures tonight? We can do some major nerd herd bonding over the wicked bunion I have on my right foot." Aphrodite lifted up her right stiletto boot and pretended like she was going to unzip it.
"We have your breakfast ready, too, Aphrodite," Erin said.
"Yeah, we fixed you up a nice bowl of Count Skankula," Shaunee said.
"You two are so not amusing. Zoey, I'll get Darius and we'll meet you in the parking lot. Hurry up." She flipped her hair and twitched away.
"We hate her," Erin and Shaunee said together.
"I know," I sighed. "But she really was nice to me last night."
"Probably because she has a serious personality disorder," Erin said.
"Yeah, I think she's one of those split-personality people," Shaunee said. "Hey, maybe she'll get institutionalized pretty soon!"
"Excellent thinking, Twin. I like it that you always look on the bright side," Erin said.
"Here, Z. Have some cereal," Shaunee said.
I sighed at the enticing box of my favorite cereal. "I don't have time to eat. Gotta get to Street Cats and set up our community charity work."
"You should talk them into having a cool flea market sale," Erin said.
"Yeah. We need to do some serious closet cleaning to get ready for the season change, and we might as well sell the old stuff to make room for the new," Shaunee said.
"That's not a bad idea, actually. Plus, Street Cats could have the sale inside so the sun doesn't bother us," I said.
"Twin, let's go through our shoes," Shaunee said.
"Will do, Twin," Erin said. "I hear metallic is majorly in for next season."
I left the dorm on a tide of the Twins' new-shoe-purchase chatter.
The Son of Erebus warrior who was stationed outside wasn't Darius, but he was equally as big and bad looking, and he gave me a quick respectful salute. I returned it and then hurried down the sidewalk toward the main school building, nodding hi to the fledglings coming and going. Flipping open my cell phone, I punched the number of the disposable phone I'd given to Stevie Rae a few days ago. Thankfully, this time she answered on the first ring.
"Hey there, Zoey!"
"Oh, thank god." I didn't say her name, but I still kept my voice low. "I tried to call you earlier, but I couldn't get you."
"Sorry, Z. Reception down in the tunnels is crappy."
I sighed. We'd have to do something about that, but right now I couldn't take the time to think of what. "Well, never mind that. Can you meet me at Street Cats in a little while? It's important."
"Street Cats? Where's that?"
"It's at Sixtieth and Sheridan in that cute little brick building. The one behind Charlie's Chicken. Can you be there?"
"Yeah, I guess. I'll have to take the bus, so it may take me a little while. Wait, can't you come get me?"
I'd opened my mouth to explain why I couldn't give her a ride and also why it was so important I talked to her today, when the background noise of a scream followed by some truly scary-sounding laughter came through her phone.
"Um, Zoey. I gotta go," Stevie Rae said.
"Stevie Rae, what's going on?"
"Nothin'," she said
too quickly.
"Stevie Rae—," I began, but she cut me off.
"They're not eatin' anybody. Really. But I gotta go make sure the pizza delivery guy doesn't remember too much of this particular delivery. See you at Street Cats—bye!"
And she was gone. I closed the phone (and wished I could close my eyes and curl into a fetal position and go back to sleep). Instead I walked through the big wooden, castlelike doors of the main entrance of the central House of Night. We don't have what you'd call a principal's office, but we do have an area manned by an attractive young vampyre named Miss Taylor. She's actually not a secretary, but an acolyte of Nyx. Damien had explained to me that part of her priestess training was to provide service for a House of Night—hence the fact she could be found busily answering phones, making copies, and running errands for the professors when she wasn't setting the chapel up for rituals and whatnot.
"Hi there, Zoey," she said with a sweet smile.
"Hi, Miss Taylor. I'm supposed to tell Shekinah who's going with me to Street Cats, but I don't have a clue where she is."
"Oh, she's made the Council Room her office when she's not teaching. And since first hour hasn't started yet, she's there right now."
"Thanks," I called as I hurried down the hall to the left and then up the circular staircase that led to the library and the Council Room across the hall from it. I wasn't sure if I should just go on in or not, and I was just raising my hand to knock when Shekinah's clear voice called, "You may enter, Zoey."
Jeesh, vamps were so scary with their weird we-know-who's-gonna-call-before-they-call thing. I straightened my shoulders and went in.
Shekinah was wearing a black dress that looked like it was made of velvet, with the silver embroidered insignia of Nyx, a woman's silhouette with her arms upraised and cupping a moon, on her breast. She smiled at me and I was struck anew at her exotic beauty and the sense of age and wisdom that surrounded her.
"Merry meet, Zoey," she said.
"Merry meet," I replied automatically.
