Chosen hon-3

by P. C. Casr

  I placed the lighted candle carefully at Nyx's feet. Instead of bowing my head, I tilted it back, so that my face was open and looking up at the majesty of the night sky. And then I prayed to my goddess, but I'll admit that the way I pray sounds a lot like just talking. This isn't because I mean any disrespect to Nyx. It's just the way I am. From the first day I was Marked and the goddess appeared to me, I've felt close to her—like she really cares about what happens in my life, versus being a nameless God on High who looks down on me with a frown and a notebook he's all too ready to fill out passes to hell on.

  "Nyx, thanks for helping me tonight. I'm confused and completely weirded out by the Stevie Rae situation, but I know if you'll help me—help us—we can get through this. Take care of her, please, and help me to know what to do. I know you've Marked me and given me special powers for a reason, and I'm beginning to think that the reason might have something to do with Stevie Rae. I won't lie to you; it scares me. But you knew what a sissy I was when you picked me," I smiled up at the sky. During my first conversation with Nyx I had told her that I couldn't be Marked as special by her because I couldn't even parallel park. It hadn't seemed to matter to her then, and I was hoping it still didn't matter to her. "Anyway, I just wanted to light this for Stevie Rae to symbolize the fact that I won't forget her, and I won't walk away from what you need me to do, no matter how clueless I am about the details."

  I planned to sit there for a while and hoped that maybe I'd get another whisper in my mind that would give me some idea about how I should handle meeting Stevie Rae tomorrow. So I was still sitting in front of Nyx's statue and staring up at the sky when Erik's voice scared the bejeezus right out of me.

  "Stevie Rae's death has really shaken you up, hasn't it?"

  I jumped and let out an unattractive squeak. "Jeesh, Erik! You scared me so bad I almost peed myself. Do not sneak up on me like that."

  "Fine. Sorry. I shouldn't have bothered you. Later." He started to walk away.

  "Wait, I don't want you to go. You just surprised me. Next time rustle a leaf or cough or something. Okay?"

  He stopped walking and turned back to me. His face was guarded, but he gave me a tight nod and said, "Okay."

  I stood up and smiled what I hoped was an encouraging smile. Undead friend and Imprinted human boyfriend aside, I really did like Erik and definitely didn't want to break up with him. "Actually I'm glad you're here. I need to apologize for what happened before."

  Erik made a brusque gesture with his hand. "Don't worry about it, and you don't have to wear that snowman necklace, or you can take it back and exchange it. Or whatever. I kept the receipt."

  My hand went up to touch the pearl snowman. Now that I could lose it (and Erik) I suddenly realized it was kinda cute. (Erik was more than kinda cute.) "No! I don't want to take it back." I paused and collected myself so I didn't sound so psycho and desperate. "Okay, here's the thing. There's a distinct possibility that I might be a little overly sensitive about the whole birthday-Christmas issue. I really should have told you guys how I felt about it, but I've had sucky birthdays for so long that I guess I just didn't even think about it. Or at least not until today. And then it really was too late. I wasn't going to say anything and you guys wouldn't even have known if you hadn't seen that note from Heath." I remembered I still had Heath's gorgeous bracelet on my wrist so I dropped my hand down and pressed it against my side, wishing the adorably cute little hearts would stop jingling so merrily. Then I added lamely, "Plus, you're right. Stevie Rae has really shaken me up." Then I clamped my mouth shut because I realized I had (again) talked about the supposedly dead Stevie Rae as if she was alive, or in her case I guess I should say not dead. And, of course, I was babbling like the desperate psycho I was trying not to appear to be.

  Erik's blue eyes seemed to look inside me. "Would things be easier for you if I just backed off and left you alone for a while?"

  "No!" He was really making my stomach hurt. "It definitely wouldn't be easier if you backed off."

  "You've just been so not here since Stevie Rae died. I can understand if you need some space."

  "Erik, the truth is it's not just Stevie Rae. There's other stuff going on with me that's really hard to talk about."

  He moved closer and took my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. "Can't you tell me? I'm pretty good at fixing problems. Maybe I could help."

  I looked up into his eyes and wanted so damn bad to tell him everything about Stevie Rae and Neferet and even Heath that I could feel myself sway toward him. Erik closed the little space left between us and I slid into his arms with a sigh. He always smelled so good and felt incredibly strong and solid.

  I rested my cheek against his chest. "Are you kidding, of course you're good at fixing problems. You're good at everything. Actually, you're freakishly close to perfect."

  I felt his chest rumble as he laughed. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

  "It's not a bad thing—it's an intimidating thing," I mumbled.

  "Intimidating!" He pulled back so that he could look at me. "You've got to be kidding!" He laughed again.

  I frowned up at him. "Why are you laughing at me?"

  He hugged me and said, "Z, do you have any clue what it's like to date a girl who is the most powerful fledgling in the history of vampyres?"

  "No, I don't date girls." Not that there's anything wrong with lesbians.

  He took my chin in his hand and tilted my face up. "You can be scary, Z. You control the elements, all of them. Talk about having a girlfriend it'd be best not to piss off."

  "Oh, please! Don't be silly. I've never zapped you." I didn't mention that I have actually zapped people. Most specifically undead people. Well, and his ex-girlfriend, Aphrodite (who is about as hateful and annoying as the undead dead). But it was probably a good idea not to bring all that up.

  "I'm just saying that you don't need to be intimidated by anyone. You're amazing, Zoey. Don't you know that?"

  "I guess not. Things have been kinda foggy lately."

  Erik pulled back again and looked at me. "Then let me help clear things up for you."

  I felt myself swimming in his blue eyes. Maybe I could tell him. Erik was a fifth former, and in the middle of his third year at the House of Night. He was almost nineteen and an amazingly talented actor. (He can sing, too.) If any fledgling could keep a secret it would be him. But as I opened my mouth to blurt the truth about undead Stevie Rae a terrible feeling clenched my stomach and made the words freeze in my throat. It was that feeling again. The gut-deep feeling I get that tells me to keep my mouth shut or run like hell or sometimes just take a breath and think. Right now it was telling me in an impossible to ignore way that I needed to keep my mouth shut, which Erik's next words just reinforced.

  "Hey, I know you'd rather talk to Neferet, but she won't be back for maybe another week or so. I could stand in for her until then."

  Neferet was the one person or vampyre I absolutely could not talk to. Hell, Neferet and her psychic-ness was the reason I couldn't talk to my friends or Erik about Stevie Rae.

  "Thanks, Erik." Automatically, I started to pull out of his arms. "But I have to work through this myself."

  He let go of me so suddenly I almost fell backward. "It's him, isn't it?"

  "Him?"

  "That human guy. Heath. Your old boyfriend. He's coming back in two days and that's why you're acting weird."

  "I'm not acting weird. At least not that weird."

  "Then why won't you let me touch you?"

  "What are you talking about? I let you touch me. I just hugged you."

  "For about two seconds. Then you pulled away, like you've been doing for a while now. Look, if I've done something wrong you need to let me know and—"

  "You haven't done anything wrong!"

  Erik didn't say anything for several breaths, and when he did speak he sounded way older than almost nineteen and more than a little sad. "I can't compete with an Imprint. I know that. And I'm not trying to.
I just thought you and I had something special. We'll last a lot longer than some biological thing you have with a human. You and I are alike, and you and Heath aren't. At least not anymore."

  "Erik, you're not competing with Heath."

  "I researched Imprinting. It's about sex."

  I could feel my face getting hot. Of course he was right. Imprinting was sexual because the act of drinking a human's blood turned on the same receptor in the vamp's brain and the human's brain that was turned on during orgasm. Not that I wanted to discuss that with Erik. So instead I decided to stick with the surface facts and not get into the deeper stuff. "It's about blood, not sex."

  He gave me a look that said he had (unfortunately) been telling the truth. He'd done his research.

  Naturally, I got defensive. "I'm still a virgin, Erik, and I'm not ready to change that."

  "I didn't say you—"

  "Sounds like you're getting me mixed up with your last girlfriend," I interrupted. "The one I saw on her knees in front of you trying to give you another blow job." Okay, it was really not fair of me to bring up the nasty incident I'd accidentally witnessed between Aphrodite and him. I hadn't even known Erik then, but at the moment picking a fight with him seemed a lot easier than talking about the bloodlust I definitely felt for Heath.

  "I am not getting you mixed up with Aphrodite," he said between clenched teeth.

  "Well, maybe this isn't about me acting weird. Maybe this is about you wanting more than I can give you right now."

  "That's not true, Zoey. You know damn well I'm not pressuring you about sex. I don't want someone like Aphrodite. I want you. But I want to be able to touch you without you pulling away from me like I'm some kind of leper."

  Had I been doing that? Crap. I probably had. I drew a deep breath. Fighting like this with Erik was stupid, and I was going to end up losing him if I didn't figure out some way to let him get close to me without letting him know things he couldn't accidentally let Neferet know. I looked down at the ground, trying to sort through what I could and couldn't say to him. "I don't think you're a leper. I think you're the hottest guy at this school."

  I heard Erik's deep sigh. "Well, you've already said you don't date girls, so that should mean you would like it when I touch you."

  I looked up at him. "It does. I do." Then I decided I was going to tell him the truth. Or at least as much of the truth as I could. "It's just hard to let you get close to me when I'm dealing with, well, stuff." Oh, great. I called it stuff. I'm a moron. Why does this kid still like me?

  "Z, does this stuff have to do with figuring out how to deal with your powers?"

  "Yeah." Okay, that was pretty much a lie but not totally. All the stuff (i.e., Stevie Rae, Neferet, Heath) had happened to me because of my powers and I was having to deal with it, though clearly I wasn't doing a very good job of that. I felt like I should cross my fingers behind my back, but was afraid Erik would notice.

  He took a step toward me. "So the stuff is not that you hate it when I touch you?"

  "Hating it when you touch me is not the stuff. Definitely nope. Definitely." I took a step toward him.

  He smiled and suddenly his arms were back around me, only this time he bent to kiss me. He tasted as good as he smells, so the kiss was nice and somewhere in the middle of it I realized how long it had been since Erik and I had had a good hot make-out session. I mean, I'm no ho like Aphrodite, but I'm not a nun either. And I wasn't lying when I told Erik I liked him to touch me. I slid my arms up around his broad shoulders, leaning into him even more. We fit together nice. He's really tall, but I like that. He makes me feel little and girly and protected, and I like that, too. I let my fingers play with the back of his neck where his dark hair brushes down thick and a little curly. My fingernails teased the soft skin there, and I felt him shiver and heard the little moan in the back of his throat.

  "You feel so good," he whispered against my lips.

  "So do you," I whispered back. Pressing myself against him I deepened the kiss. And then on impulse (ho-ish impulse at that) I took his hand from the small of my back and moved it up so that it was cupping the side of my breast. He moaned again and his kiss got harder and hotter. He slid his hand down and under my sweater, and then back up so that he had my breast in his hand, bare except for my lacy black bra.

  Okay, I'll just admit it. I liked him touching my boob. It felt good. It especially felt good that I was proving to Erik that I hadn't rejected him. I moved so that he could get a better feel and somehow that little, innocent (well, semi-innocent) movement caused our mouths to slip and my front tooth nicked his bottom lip.

  The taste of his blood hit me hard and I gasped against his mouth. It was rich and warm and indescribably salty sweet. I know it sounds gross, but I couldn't help my instant response to it. I cupped Erik's face in my hands and pulled his lip down to my mouth. I licked it lightly, which made the blood flow faster.

  "Yes, go ahead. Drink," Erik said, his voice rough and his breathing coming quicker and quicker.

  That was all the encouragement I needed. I sucked his lip into my mouth, tasting the wonderful magic of his blood. It wasn't like Heath's blood. It didn't give me a pleasure so intense that it was almost painful, almost out of control. Erik's blood wasn't the burst of white hot passion Heath's was. Erik's blood was like a small campfire, something warm and steady and strong. It filled my body with a flame that heated a liquid pleasure all the way down to my toes, and it made me want more—more of Erik and more of his blood.

  "Uh-hum!"

  The sound of a throat being conspicuously (and loudly) cleared had Erik and me jumping away from each other like we'd been electrocuted. I watched Erik's eyes widen as he looked up and behind me, and then saw his smile, which made him totally look like a little boy caught with his hand in a cookie jar (apparently my cookie jar).

  "Sorry, Professor Blake. We thought we were alone."

  CHAPTER 6

  Oh. My. God. I wanted to die. I wanted to die and turn to dust and have the breeze blow me anywhere just as long as it was away. Instead I turned around. Sure enough, Loren Blake, Vampyre Poet Laureate and the Best-Looking Male in the Known Universe, was standing there with a smile on his classically handsome face.

  "Oh, uh, hi," I stuttered, and because that didn't sound stupid enough I blurted, "You're in Europe."

  "I was. Just got back this evening."

  "So how was Europe?" Calm and collected, Erik draped an arm nonchalantly around my shoulders.

  Loren's smile got wider and he looked from Erik to me. "Not as friendly as it is here."

  Erik, who seemed to be having fun, laughed softly. "Well, it's not where you go, it's who you know."

  Loren lifted one perfect brow. "Obviously."

  "It's Zoey's birthday. We were just doing the birthday kiss thing," Erik said. "You know Z and I are going out."

  I looked from Erik to Loren. Testosterone was practically visible in the air between them. Jeesh, they were acting totally guy-like. Especially Erik. I swear I wouldn't have been surprised if he knocked me over the head and started dragging me around by my hair. Which was not an attractive mental image.

  "Yes, I heard that you two were dating," Loren said. His smile looked weird—kinda sarcastic so that it was almost a sneer. Then he pointed at my lip. "You have a little blood there, Zoey. Might want to clean that up." My face flamed. "Oh, and happy birthday." He turned down the sidewalk and headed to the section of the school that housed the professors' private rooms.

  "I don't know how that could have been more embarrassing," I said after licking the blood from my lip and straightening my sweater.

  Erik shrugged and grinned.

  I smacked him across the chest before reaching down for my plant and my book. "I don't know why you think this is funny," I said as I started to march away toward the dorm. Naturally, he followed me.

  "We were just kissing, Z."

  "You were kissing. I was sucking your blood." I looked sideways at him. "Oh, and
there's that little your-hand-up-my-shirt detail. Better not forget that."

  He took the lavender plant from me and grabbed my hand. "I won't forget that, Z."

  I didn't have a hand free to smack him again with, so I settled for a glare. "It's embarrassing. I can not believe Loren saw us."

  "It was just Blake, and he's not even a full professor."

  "It's embarrassing," I repeated, wishing my face would cool off. I also wished I could suck some more of Erik's blood, but I was not going to mention that.

  "I'm not embarrassed. I'm glad he saw us," Erik said smugly.

  "You're glad? Since when has public making-out become a turn-on for you?" Great. Erik was a kinky freak boy and I was just now finding out.

  "Public making-out isn't a turn-on, but I'm still glad Blake saw us." All the fun had gone out of Erik's voice, and his smile had turned grim. "I don't like the way he looks at you."

  My stomach lurched. "What do you mean? How does he look at me?"

  "Like you're not a student and he's not a teacher." He paused. "So you haven't noticed?"

  "Erik, I think you're crazy." I carefully didn't answer the question. "Loren doesn't look at me like anything." My heart was thumping like it would beat its way out of my chest. Hell yes, I'd noticed how Loren looked at me! Way noticed it. I'd even talked to Stevie Rae about it. But with all that had happened lately, plus Loren being gone for almost a month, I'd just about convinced myself that I'd imagined most of what happened between us.

  "You call him Loren," Erik said.

  "Yeah, like you said, he's not a real professor."

  "I don't call him Loren."

  "Erik, he helped me do research for the new rules for the Dark Daughters." That was more of an exaggeration than an outright lie. I'd been researching. Loren had been there. We'd talked about it. Then he touched my face. Definitely not thinking about that, I hurried on, "Plus, he's asked me about my tattoos." And he had. Under the full moon I'd bared most of my back so that he could see them … and touch them … and let them inspire his poetry. I jerked my mind away from that line of thinking, too, and finished with, "So I kinda know him."