by P. C. Cast
I let him tug me down so that I was lying next to him. Curled on my side I faced him, resting my head carefully against his shoulder. He reached across his body and draped an arm over me, pulling me more firmly against him. “I said I’m not going to break. Now relax.”
I sighed, and willed myself to relax. I wrapped my arm around his waist, being careful not to jostle him too much or touch his chest. Stark closed his eyes and I watched his face go from tight and pale to relaxed and pale as his breathing deepened. I swear within a minute he was sound asleep.
That was exactly what I wanted him to be for what I’d decided to do. I drew three deep, cleansing breaths, centered myself, and then whispered, “Spirit, come to me.”
Instantly I felt the familiar stirring within me, like I’d just understood something unbelievably magickal, as my soul responded to the infilling of the fifth element, spirit.
“Now, quietly, carefully, gently, go to Stark. Help him. Fill him. Strengthen him, but don’t wake him up.” I spoke softly, mentally crossing my fingers that he’d stay asleep. As spirit left me I felt Stark’s body stiffen for an instant, then he trembled, and then he let out a long, sleepy sigh while spirit soothed and, hopefully, strengthened him. I watched for a little while more; then slowly, I untangled myself from Stark and, with a last whisper asking spirit to stay with him while he slept, tiptoed from the room, closing the door gently behind me.
I’d only taken a couple steps when I realized I didn’t have a clue where I was going. I stopped and felt my shoulders slump. A nun, who had been walking with her eyes cast down, hurried past me and gave a little jolt as she looked up and our gazes met.
“Sister Bianca?” I thought I recognized her.
“Oh, Zoey, yes it’s me. It’s so dark in the hall I almost didn’t see you.”
“Sister, I guess I’m lost. Can you point me in the right direction to my room?”
She smiled kindly, reminding me of Sister Mary Angela, even though she wasn’t nearly as old. “Keep going down this hall until you come to the stairwell. Take it up to the top floor, and I do believe the room you’re sharing with Aphrodite is number thirteen.”
“Lucky thirteen,” I sighed. “That figures.”
“Don’t you believe we make our own luck?”
I shrugged. “Actually, Sister, I’m too tired to know what I believe right now.”
She patted my arm. “Well, go on to bed then. I’ll say a prayer to Our Lady for you. Her intervention is better than luck any day.”
“Thanks.”
I headed in the direction of the stairwell. By the time I got to the top floor I was sucking air like an old woman, and the scar that stretched across my chest was burning and throbbing in time with the fast beating of my heart. I opened the door, went out into the hallway, and leaned heavily against the wall, trying to catch my breath. Absently, I rubbed at my chest, wincing because it was still really sore. I pulled down the neck of my shirt, hoping the stupid wound hadn’t broken open again. My breath caught as I saw the new tattooing that decorated either side of the raised red line.
“I’d forgotten about that,” I whispered to myself.
“That’s amazing!”
With a little squeal I let go of the front of my shirt and jumped back so suddenly that I bonked my head against the wall.
“Erik!”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Zoey
“I thought you knew I was here. It wasn’t like I was trying to hide.” Erik was slouching just a few feet away, next to a door that had a brass number thirteen emblazoned on it. He stood up and, with his signature handsome-movie-star smile, sauntered over to me. “Damn, Z, I’ve been waiting here for you for ages.” He bent and, before I could say a word, planted a major kiss smack on my mouth.
I pushed against his chest and stepped sideways out of the embrace he’d started to pull me into.
“Erik, I’m not much in the mood for kissing.”
One of his dark brows went up. “Really? Is that what you told Heath, too?”
“I am so not going into this right now.”
“Then when are you? The next time I have to watch you drink from your human boyfriend?”
“You know what? You’re right. Let’s talk about it now.” I could feel myself getting more and more pissed, and it wasn’t just the fact that I was tired and stressed and Erik was being utterly insensitive that was making me so mad. I’d had it with Erik’s possessiveness. Period. “Heath and I are Imprinted. Either deal with it or don’t. And this is the only discussion we’re ever going to have about it.”
I watched his expression flare to totally pissed, but then, surprisingly, he clamped down on his temper. His shoulders slumped and he let out a long sigh that ended in a kind of half laugh. “You sound just like a High Priestess.”
“Well, I don’t feel much like one.”
“Hey, I’m sorry.” He reached out and brushed a strand of my dark hair back. “Nyx gave you new tattoos, huh?”
“Yeah.” It was almost automatic for me to clutch the neck of my shirt and lean against the wall so that I was just out of his reach. “It happened when Kalona was banished.”
“Do you mind if I see them?”
His voice was deep and seductive—he’d hit the perfect boyfriend tone. But before he could move closer and think that he could help himself to looking down my shirt, I held up my hand like a stop sign.
“Not now. I just want to get some sleep, Erik.”
He’d stopped moving toward me and his eyes narrowed. “So how’s Stark?”
“He’s hurt. Bad. But Darius says he’ll be okay.” I kept my voice guarded. His attitude was making me feel seriously defensive.
“And you just came from his room, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
Clearly frustrated, he ran his hand through his thick dark hair. “It’s just too much.”
“Huh?”
He threw his arms out to the side in what looked to me like a well-practiced dramatic gesture. “All of these other guys! I have to put up with Heath because he’s your consort and just when I’m trying to get used to that, this other guy shows up—Stark.” Erik said the name with a sneer.
“Erik, I—”
Acting like I hadn’t tried to say anything, he spoke over me. “Yeah, sworn to be your Warrior. I know what that means! He’s always going to be with you.”
“Erik—” Again I tried to get a word in, but he kept blaring over me.
“So I’m going to have to put up with him. And as if that’s not bad enough, it’s obvious there’s something going on between you and Kalona! Come on! Everyone’s seen the way the guy looks at you,” He scoffed. “Like that doesn’t remind me of Blake?”
“Stop.” I spoke the word softly, but the anger and irritation that had been building inside me exploded at his sarcastic mention of Kalona, and spirit, that I’d so recently conjured, filled the word with a power that had Erik, eyes wide, taking a step back. “Let’s get this over with,” I continued. “You do not have to put up with any other guy because as of this moment you and I are not together.”
“Hey, I didn’t—”
“No! It’s my turn to talk. We’re done, Erik. You’re too possessive, and even if I wasn’t exhausted and stressed out of my brain—two things that apparently don’t matter at all to you—I still wouldn’t be up for tolerating your crap.”
“After everything you’ve put me through, you think you can just walk out on me like this?”
“No.” Feeling the spirit swirl around me I channeled it into my next words as I stepped forward, backing him down the hall. “I don’t think anything. I know this is how it’s going to be. We’re done. Now you need to go away before I do something I might, in like fifty years, be sorry for.” I purposely pushed hard with the power of the element that was flowing through me, causing him to stumble.
His face had gone utterly white. “What the hell’s happened to you? You used to be so sweet. Now you’re a freak! And I’m si
ck of you cheating on me with everyone who has a dick. You should be with Stark and Heath and Kalona. They’re what you deserve!” He stomped angrily past me, slamming the door to the stairwell.
Just as angry, I marched over to room number thirteen and flung open the door.
And Aphrodite almost fell right out, face-first.
“Oopsie,” she said, running her fingers through her always perfect hair. “Guess I was, uh—”
“Listening to my big breakup scene with Erik?” I finished for her.
“Yeah, that would be what I was doing. And may I just say I don’t blame you. Talk about an asshat. Plus, you so don’t cheat on him with everyone who has a dick. You and Darius are just friends. Plus there’s Damien and Jack . . . well, not that they really count, being as they like dick themselves. Still, it was a ridiculous exaggeration.”
“You’re not really making me feel better.” I plopped down on the twin bed that wasn’t all ruffled and obviously just laid on.
“Sorry. I’m not very good at the ‘making someone feel better’ part.”
“So you heard all of that?”
“Yep.”
“Even the part about Kalona?”
“Yes, and again I call him an asshat.”
“Aphrodite, what the hell is an asshat?”
She gave me an exaggerated eye roll. “Erik is an asshat, you dork. Anyway, as I was trying to say before you interrupted, it was seriously not cool that he brought up Kalona. Plus, he had enough evidence for his stupid jealous insecurity already with Heath and Stark. It was totally not necessary to mention the winged guy.”
“I do not love him.”
“Of course you don’t. You’ve outgrown Erik. Now, I suggest you get some sleep. Goddess knows I hate to mention it, but you look like crap.”
“Thanks, Aphrodite. It really helps me right now to hear that I look as terrible as I feel,” I said sarcastically, completely avoiding the fact that when I said I didn’t love him I’d meant Kalona and not Erik.
“Hey, anytime. I’m just here to help.”
I was searching for a sarcastic comeback when I noticed what she had on and a little bubble of unexpected laughter escaped from me. Aphrodite, Queen of Fashion, was wearing a floor-length, cover-her-from-ankles-to-neck, white cotton nightgown. Like she’d gone Amish. “Uh, what is that lovely little thing you’re wearing?”
“Don’t start with me. This is the penguins’ idea of nightwear. Well, I can almost understand it. I mean, they take those stupid chastity vows, and if this is what they wear to bed, the vow would be practically unnecessary. Seriously. The thing almost makes me look unattractive.”
“Almost?” I giggled.
“Yes, smart-ass, almost. And before you’re too gleeful, cast your eyes over there. That thing folded up on the end of your bed isn’t an extra sheet. It’s your very own designer nun sleepwear.”
“Oh, well, at least it looks comfortable.”
“Comfort is for sissies and unattractive people.”
As Aphrodite snootily retucked herself into bed, I made my way over to the little sink in the corner of the room and washed my face and used one of the new, still-in-its-wrapper guest toothbrushes to brush my teeth. As nonchalantly as I could I said, “Hey, uh, can I ask you something?”
“Ask away,” she said, plumping her pillows.
“It’s a serious question.”
“So?”
“So, I need a serious answer.”
“Yeah, fine, whatever. Ask,” she said flippantly.
“You said before that you knew Erik got too possessive.”
“That’s not really a question,” she said.
I raised my brows at her in the mirror. She sighed.
“Okay, yes, Erik was a stage-five clinger.”
“Huh?”
She sighed. “Clinger. Stage five. Totally not fucking cool.”
“Aphrodite, what language are you speaking?”
“Teenage American. Way upper-class. You could speak it too with a little imagination and a few real cuss words.”
“Goddess help me,” I muttered to my reflection before I continued. “Okay, so. Erik was too possessive with you, too.”
“That’s what I just said.”
“And it made you mad?”
“Yeah, definitely. Basically, it broke us up.”
I squished Crest on my toothbrush. “So it made you mad. You and Erik broke up, but you were, still, uh, all, well . . .” I chewed my lip for a second and then tried again. “I saw you with him and you were all, um—”
“Oh, for crap’s sake! You can just say it without melting. You saw me go down on him.”
“Uh, yeah,” I said awkwardly.
“That’s not a question either.”
“Fine! Here’s the question: You were broken up with him because he was a possessive jerk, but you were still trying to be with him, so much so that you were even doing that. I don’t get why,” I blurted, and stuck my toothbrush in my mouth.
Watching her reflection in the mirror, I saw her cheeks turn bright pink. Aphrodite flipped back her hair. She cleared her throat. Then she met my gaze in the mirror. “It wasn’t about wanting Erik. It was about wanting control.”
“Huh?” I said through the bubbles of Crest.
“Things had started to change with me at school even before you showed up.”
I spit and rinsed. “What things?”
“I knew something was up with Neferet. It bothered me, and that was weird.”
I wiped my mouth and went over to my bed, using kicking off my shoes, pulling off my clothes, putting on the soft, warm cotton nightgown, and climbing in bed as an excuse to stay quiet while I tried to figure out how to put into words the stuff babbling through my mind. But without me saying anything, Aphrodite continued, “You know I used to keep my visions from Neferet, don’t you?”
I nodded. “And humans died because of it.”
“Yeah, you’re right. They did. And Neferet didn’t care. I could tell. That was when I started to feel weird. That’s also when my life started to fall apart. I didn’t want it to. I wanted to stay the bitch in charge, who would someday be High Priestess and, preferably, rule the world. Then I could tell my mother to go straight to hell—and maybe even be so powerful that I could scare her like she deserves to be scared.” Aphrodite blew out a long breath. “It didn’t work out that way.”
“Instead you listened to Nyx,” I said softly.
“Well, first I tried like hell to stay queen of my bitchy kingdom, and being with the hottest guy at school, even if he was a possessive asshat, was part of that.”
“It makes sense, I guess,” I said.
Aphrodite hesitated then added, “It makes me sick to remember it.”
“You mean doing it with Erik?”
Her lips curled up and she shook her head, laughing a little. “Goddess, you’re such a prude! No, doing it with Erik was actually not bad at all. It makes me sick to remember how I kept quiet about my visions and basically shit on Nyx’s path.”
“Well, recently you’ve pretty much cleaned up any poo you put on Nyx’s path. And I am not a prude.”
Aphrodite snorted.
“You’re really unattractive when you do that,” I said.
“I’m never really unattractive,” she said. “Are you done with your serious nonquestion question?”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“Good. My turn. Have you been able to talk to Stevie Rae? Alone?”
“Uh-uh, not yet.”
“But you’re going to?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Soon?”
“What do you know?”
Aphrodite said, “She’s definitely hiding things from you.”
“Things like red fledglings? Like you told me before?” Aphrodite didn’t answer, which completely made my stomach clench. “Well?” I prompted. “What?”
“It feels like there’s more going on with Stevie Rae than just hiding some random red fledgling
s from you.”
I didn’t want to believe Aphrodite, but my gut said she was telling the truth, as did my common sense. Aphrodite’s Imprint with Stevie Rae gave her a connection to my BFF no one else had. So Aphrodite knew things about her. Plus, no matter how much I wished otherwise, I realized things weren’t right with Stevie Rae. “You can’t tell me anything more specific?”
Aphrodite shook her head. “No. She’s really shut down.”
“Shut down? What does that mean?”
“Well, you know how your bumpkin BFF usually is, like our own transparently perky version of a countrified goodwill ambassador for ‘Hey there, y’all! Check out how nice and sweet and white bread I am! Yuck! Yuck!’”
Aphrodite’s exaggerated Okie accent mimicked Stevie Rae’s voice a little too well, and I frowned severely at her when I said, “Yes, I know she’s usually honest and open, if that’s what you meant to say.”
“Yeah, well, she’s not being honest and open anymore. Take it from me—and Goddess knows I wish you could take this damn Imprint from me—she’s hiding a very big something that feels way more important than a few fledglings.”
“Crap,” I said.
“Yep,” she said. “But, hey, there’s not shit you can do about it right now, so get some sleep. Our world will still need saving tomorrow.”
“Great,” I said.
“Oh, speaking of—How’s your boyfriend?”
“Which one?” I asked glumly.
“Mr. Pain in the Ass Arrows.”
I shrugged. “Better, I think.”
“You didn’t let him chomp on you, did you?”
I sighed. “No.”
“Darius was right about that, you know? As annoying as it might be for some of us, and as unqualified as you appear, you are the High Priestess right now.”
“Which makes me feel ever so much better.”
“Hey, no problem. Look, what I’m saying is you need to be one hundred percent, and not drained like an extra-dry martini during brunch at my mom’s country club.”
“Your mom really drinks martinis at brunch?”
“Of course she does.” Aphrodite shook her head and looked utterly disgusted. “Try not to be so naïve. Anyway, just don’t do something stupid because you’re feeling all Lifetime Movie of the Week and in love with Stark.”