Tempted: A House of Night Novel

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Tempted: A House of Night Novel Page 5

by P. C. Cast


  Sister Mary Angela motioned for us to follow her, and the five of us went quickly out of the basement, up the stairwell, and into the abbey hall.

  “Dallas, I cannot believe you put ’em in the Dumpsters!” Stevie Rae rounded on him as soon as we were out of earshot of the others.

  “What’d you expect us to do with them, dig a grave and say Mass?” Dallas said, then he glanced at Sister Mary Angela. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to blaspheme, Sister. My folks are Catholic.”

  “You meant no offense, I’m sure, son,” said the nun, sounding a little shaky. “Bodies . . . I—I hadn’t thought about the bodies.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Sister.” Heath patted her arm awkwardly. “You don’t have to mess with them. I get what you’re feeling. This whole thing: the winged guy, Neferet, the Raven Mockers, well, is all hard to—”

  “They can’t stay in the dang Dumpsters,” Stevie Rae spoke over Heath as if she hadn’t even heard him. “It’s not right.”

  “Why not?” I asked calmly. I’d been quiet until then because I’d been studying Stevie Rae, watching closely as she became more and more upset.

  Stevie Rae suddenly didn’t seem to have any problem meeting my gaze. “Because it’s not right, that’s why,” she repeated.

  “They were monsters that were part immortal who would have tried their best to kill us all in a split second if Kalona had given them the word,” I said.

  “Part immortal and part what?” Stevie Rae asked me.

  I frowned at her, but Heath answered before I could. “Part bird?”

  “No.” Stevie Rae didn’t even look at him. She kept staring at me. “Not part bird, that’s the immortal part. In their blood they’re part immortal and part human. Human, Zoey. I feel sorry for the human part, and think it deserves more than being stuck in the trash.”

  There was something about the look in her eye—about the sound of her voice—that really bothered me. I answered her with the first thing that came into my mind. “It takes more than an accident of blood to make me feel sorry for someone.”

  Stevie Rae’s eyes flashed and her body jerked, almost like I’d slapped her. “I guess that’s one difference between you and me.”

  All of a sudden I realized why Stevie Rae was able to feel bad for the Raven Mockers. In a weird way, she must be seeing herself in them. She’d died and then, due to what I supposed she could call an “accident” she’d resurrected without most of her humanity. Then, due to another “accident,” she’d gotten her humanity back. Looking at it that way, I guess she felt sorry for them because she knew what it was like to be part monster, part human.

  “Hey,” I said softly, wishing she and I were back at the House of Night and could talk as easily as we used to. “There’s a big difference between an accident causing something to be born messed up, and something terrible that happens after someone’s born. On one hand you’re made the way you are—on the other, something tried to change you into someone you’re not.”

  “Huh?” Heath said.

  “I believe what Zoey is trying to say is that she understands why Stevie Rae might empathize with the dead Raven Mockers, even when she really has nothing in common with them,” said Sister Mary Angela. “And Zoey would be right. Those creatures are dark beings, and even though I, too, am disconcerted by death, I understand that they needed to die.”

  Stevie Rae’s gaze left mine. “You’re both wrong. That’s not what I’m thinkin’, but I’m not gonna talk about it anymore.” She started down the hall, walking quickly away from us.

  “Stevie Rae?” I called after her.

  She didn’t even look back at me. “I’m gonna find Erik, make sure everything’s really okay out there, and then send him inside. I’ll talk to you later.” She turned and disappeared through a door I assumed led to the outside, slamming it behind her.

  “That’s not usually how she acts,” Dallas said.

  “I’ll pray for her,” Sister Mary Angela whispered.

  “Don’t worry,” Heath said. “She’ll be back inside pretty soon. The sun’s getting ready to come up.”

  I swiped my hand across my face. What I should’ve done was follow Stevie Rae outside, corner her, and make her tell me exactly what was going on. But I couldn’t deal with one more problem just then. I hadn’t even dealt with my A-ya memory. I could feel it sitting there in the back of my mind like a guilty secret.

  “Zo, are you okay? You look like you need some sleep. We all do,” Heath said, yawning.

  I blinked and gave him a weary smile. “Yeah, that’s true. I’ll go to bed. First I want to check on Stark real quick, though.”

  “Very quickly,” Sister Mary Angela said.

  I nodded. Without looking at Heath, I said, “Okay, well, um. I’ll see you guys in about eight hours or so.”

  “Good night, child.” Sister Mary Angela hugged me and whispered, “And may our Lady bless and watch over you.”

  “Thanks, Sister,” I whispered back, hugging her tightly.

  When I let her go, Heath surprised me by taking my hand. I gave him a question-mark look.

  “I’ll walk you to Stark’s room,” he said.

  Feeling defeated, I shrugged, and he and I started down the hall, hand in hand. We didn’t say anything; we just walked. Heath’s hand was warm and familiar in mine and I fell into step easily beside him. I was just starting to let myself relax when Heath cleared his throat.

  “Hey, uh, I want to say sorry about that crap outside earlier with Erik and me. It was stupid. I shouldn’t let him get to me,” Heath said.

  “You’re right—you shouldn’t, but he can be annoying,” I said.

  Heath grinned. “Tell me about it. You’re gonna dump him pretty soon, aren’t you?”

  “Heath, I am so not going to talk about Erik with you.”

  His grin just got bigger. I rolled my eyes.

  “You can’t fool me. I know you too well. You don’t go for bossy guys.”

  “Just shut up and walk,” I said, but I squeezed his hand, and he squeezed mine back. He was right—I didn’t like bossy guys, and he did know me very, very well.

  We’d come to a turn in the hallway. There was a nice picture window with an alcove in front of it, complete with a cushy bench that looked perfect for reading. On the windowsill there was a beautiful porcelain statue of Mary with several votives burning on either side of her. Heath and I slowed down, pausing by the window.

  “That’s really pretty,” I said softly.

  “Yeah, I’ve never paid Mary much attention. But all these statues of her lit up by candles are cool looking. Do you think the nun’s right? Could Mary be Nyx and Nyx be Mary?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Doesn’t Nyx talk to you?”

  “Yeah, sometimes, but the subject of Jesus’ mom hasn’t come up,” I said.

  “Well, I think you should ask her next time.”

  “Maybe I will,” I said.

  We just stood there, holding hands and watching the way the warm yellow flames danced off the gleaming statue. I was thinking about how nice it would be if my Goddess would visit me during a time that wasn’t filled with life-and-death stress when Heath blurted, “So I hear that Stark swore himself into your service as a Warrior.”

  I studied him carefully, looking for signs that he was pissed or jealous, but all I saw in his blue eyes was curiosity.

  “Yeah, he did.”

  “Word is that’s a majorly special bond.”

  “Yeah, it is,” I said.

  “He’s the guy who can’t miss with an arrow, right?”

  “Right.”

  “So having him on your side is kinda like being protected by the Terminator?”

  That made me smile. “Well, he’s not as big as Arnold, but I guess it’s a pretty good comparison.”

  “Does he love you, too?”

  His question caught me off guard, and I didn’t know what to say. As he’d been doing since we were in grade school, Heath seemed
to know the exact right thing to say. “Just tell me the truth, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, I think he loves me.”

  “And you him?”

  “Maybe,” I said reluctantly. “But it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

  “But what does that mean for you and me today?”

  It was weird that his words echoed Aphrodite’s question about where the A-ya memory left Kalona and me. I felt overwhelmed because I didn’t have an answer for either of them; I rubbed at the headache that was starting to pound through my right temple. “I guess it leaves us Imprinted and annoyed.”

  Heath didn’t say anything. He just watched me with that sweet, sad, familiar look that said more about how badly I was hurting him than a dozen screaming matches between us would have.

  He was breaking my heart.

  “Heath, I’m so sorry. I just . . . I just . . .” My voice broke and I tried again. “I just don’t know what to do about a lot of things right now.”

  “I do.” Heath sat down on the bench and held out his arms to me. “Zo, come here.”

  I shook my head. “Heath, I can’t—”

  “I’m not asking anything from you,” he interrupted firmly. “I’m giving you something. Come here.”

  When I just looked at him in confusion he sighed, reached up, took my hands, and gently drew my stiff but unresisting body to his lap and into his arms. He held me, resting his cheek on top of my head, like he’d been doing since he’d gotten bigger than me somewhere around the eighth grade. My face was pressed against the crook of his neck and I inhaled his scent. It was the fragrance of my childhood—of long summer nights sitting in the backyard by the mosquito zapper while we listened to music and talked—of after-game parties where I stayed snug within his arm as lots of girls (and guys for that matter) gushed about the great passes he’d thrown—of long good-night kisses and the passion that came with discovering love.

  And I realized suddenly that while I’d been breathing in familiarity and security, I’d also been relaxing. With a sigh, I curled into him.

  “Better?” Heath murmured.

  “Better,” I said. “Heath, I really don’t know—”

  “Don’t!” His arms tightened around me and then gentled again. “Right now don’t worry about me or Erik or that new guy. Right now just remember us. Remember what it’s been like between us for years. I’m here for you, Zo. Through all the crap that I can’t really understand, I’m here. And we belong to each other. My blood says so.”

  “Why?” I asked, still cradled in his arms. “Why are you still here, still willing to be with me even when you know about Erik and Stark?”

  “Because I love you,” he said simply. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, and I’m going to love you for the rest of my life.”

  Tears stung my eyes and I blinked hard, trying not to cry. “But Heath, Stark’s not going to go away. And I don’t really know what I’m going to do about Erik.”

  “I know.”

  I drew a deep breath and on the exhale said, “And inside of me there’s a connection with Kalona that I can’t help.”

  “But you said no to him and chased him away.”

  “I did, but I—I have memories that are stuck in my soul, and they have to do with who I was in a different lifetime, and during that lifetime I was with Kalona.”

  Instead of asking me a zillion questions, or pulling away from me, his arms tightened around me. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, sounding like he really meant it. “You’re going to figure all of this out.”

  “I don’t see how. I don’t even know what to do about you.”

  “There isn’t anything to do about me. I’m with you. That’s it.” He paused and then added quickly, like he wanted to get the words out of his mouth, “If I have to share you with the vampyres, I will.”

  Still in his arms, I leaned back so I could meet his gaze. “Heath, you are entirely too jealous for me to believe it’s okay with you if I’m with another guy.”

  “I didn’t say it’s okay with me. I definitely won’t like it, but I don’t want to be without you, Zoey.”

  “That’s just too weird,” I said.

  He took my chin in his hand when I tried to look away from him. “Yeah, it’s weird. But the truth is, as long as we’re Imprinted I know I have something with you no one else has. I can give you something none of those big, bad Dracula-wannabes can ever touch. I can give you something that even an immortal can’t touch.”

  I stared at him. Heath’s eyes were bright with tears. He looked so much older than eighteen that it almost scared me. “I don’t want to make you sad,” I said. “I don’t want to mess up your life.”

  “Then stop trying to send me away from you. We belong together.”

  Okay, I realize it was wrong of me, but instead of answering him and arguing that us being together just couldn’t work, I curled up in his arms and let him hold me. Yeah, it was selfish of me, but I lost myself in Heath and the touch of my past. The way he held me was perfect. He didn’t try to make out with me. He didn’t grope me, or grind against me. He didn’t try to feel me up. He didn’t even offer to cut himself and let me drink his blood, which would have automatically let loose a passion between us that would burn both of us out of control. Heath held me gently and murmured how much he loved me. He told me everything really would be okay. I could feel his heartbeat against me. I could sense the rich, enticing blood that was there, so warm and so close, but just then what I needed even more than his Imprinted blood was familiarity, our joined past, and the strength of his understanding.

  And that’s the moment Heath Luck, my high school sweetheart, truly became my consort.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Stevie Rae

  Feeling like a total butthead, Stevie Rae slammed the abbey door and retreated into the icy night. She wasn’t really pissed at Zoey, or at the super-nice, if slightly delusional, nun. Actually, she wasn’t pissed at anyone but herself.

  “Dang it! I hate that I’m messin’ this up!” she yelled at herself. She hadn’t meant to screw things up royally, but it seemed like she was diggin’ through a pile of shit that just kept getting deeper and deeper no matter how fast she shoveled.

  Zoey wasn’t a moron. She knew something was wrong. That was obvious, but how could Stevie Rae even start to tell her? There was just so much to explain. He was just so much to explain. And she’d never meant for any of it to happen. Especially not the Raven Mocker part. Dang it! Before she’d discovered him almost dead, she wouldn’t have even thought it was possible. Had someone told her about him before, she would have laughed and said, “Nope, that ain’t gonna happen!”

  But it was possible because it had happened. He had happened.

  As Stevie Rae prowled around the silent abbey grounds looking for pain-in-the-butt Erik, who might very well discover this last, most terrible secret and really throw a wrench in the dang tractor motor, she tried to figure out just how the hell she’d gotten herself into such a gawd-awful mess. Why had she saved him? Why hadn’t she just hollered for Dallas and the rest of ’em, and had them finish it?

  That had even been what he’d said he wanted before he passed out.

  But he’d spoken. He’d sounded so human. And she hadn’t been able to kill him.

  “Erik!” Where the heck was he? “Erik, come here!” She paused her internal battle and called into the night. Night? Stevie Rae squinted to the east and swore she could see the darkness there beginning to turn the ripe plum color of predawn. “Erik! Time to report in!” Stevie Rae yelled for the third time. She stopped and peered around the silent abbey grounds.

  Stevie Rae’s gaze slid over to the greenhouse that had been turned into a temporary stable for the horses Z and the rest of the gang had ridden in their escape from the House of Night. But it wasn’t so much the greenhouse that drew her gaze. It was the innocent-looking equipment shed next to it that she couldn’t quit staring at. The shed appeared totally normal—ju
st an add-on building with no windows. The door hadn’t even been locked. She should know. She’d been inside it not too long ago.

  “Hey, what’s wrong? Did you see something over there?”

  “Oh, shit!” Stevie Rae jumped and spun around, heart hammering so hard in her chest she almost couldn’t breathe. “Erik! You scared the bejesus right outta me! Would you make some dang noise or somethin’ before you bust up on someone like that?”

  “Sorry, Stevie Rae, but you were calling me.”

  Stevie Rae brushed a blond curl back behind her ear and tried to ignore the fact that her hand was shaking. She was just seriously no good at this sneaking-around-and-hiding-things-from-your-friends stuff. But she lifted her chin and forced her nerves to settle down, and the easiest way to do that was to take a chomp out of pain-in-the-butt Erik.

  Stevie Rae narrowed her eyes at him. “Yeah, I was callin’ you because you’re supposed to be inside with everyone else. What the heck are ya still doin’ out here, anyway? You’re worrying Zoey—like she needs any more stress from you right now?”

  “Zoey was looking for me?”

  With an effort, Stevie Rae didn’t roll her eyes at Erik. He was sooooo annoying. He acted like Mr. Perfect Boyfriend part of the time, and then would suddenly change up and be an arrogant jerk. She was gonna have to tell Z about him—that was if Z would still listen to her. The two of them hadn’t exactly been very close lately. Too many secrets . . . too many issues sitting squarely between them . . .

  “Stevie Rae! Pay attention. Did you say Zoey was looking for me?”

  Stevie Rae did roll her eyes then. “You’re supposed to be inside. Heath and Dallas and the rest of the kids are. Zoey knows that. She wanted to know where the heck you were and why you’re not where you’re supposed to be.”

  “If she was that worried she could have come out here herself.”

  “I didn’t say she was worried!” Stevie Rae snapped, exasperated with Erik’s self-absorption. “And Z has way too much on her plate to be out here babysittin’ you.”

  “I don’t need a damn babysitter.”

 

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