Revealed

“I know you’re her High Priestess and all, but she’s gonna throw a major hissy fit if you try to get her to move down there,” Stevie Rae said.

As much as it annoyed me to think about Aphrodite throwing a fit, I knew Stevie Rae was right. I was trying to weigh whether it would be worth the fight or not when Aurox spoke up.

“I’ll stay with the fledglings,” he said.

I blinked in surprise at him. “But you just said you wanted to room with Damien because the other kids looked at you in a weird way.”

“That doesn’t mean I want them to be without protection. I rarely sleep, so I could easily watch over them. And I like being able to help you.” He hesitated, and then added, “Your grandmother helped me. It’s only right that I, in turn, help you.”

His moonstone-colored eyes held my gaze until Stark’s voice intruded. “Sounds good. And you’re right. You do need to help us out.”

“How about this—I’ll go with you, so we’ll still be roomies,” Damien told Aurox. “I seem to have a way of smoothing over awkward situations.”

“He does,” Rephaim agreed. “Damien helped the kids accept me. I’ll bet he can do the same for you.”

“That’s a lovely thing for you to say!” Damien’s grin lit him up from within, and I thought how nice it was to see him happy.

“So that’s settled,” Stark said. “Okay, Z, are you almost done eating? You said you wanted to check on Aphrodite, and I need to see Darius—he’ll probably know where Dragon’s storage room is. We can kill two birds and all.”

I gave the rest of my psaghetti a longing look, but it didn’t seem all that appetizing anymore—not with Stark glowering at Aurox, Aurox sending me little looks, and everyone else watching the three of us. I gulped my brown pop and put on my best fake smile. “I’m done! Let’s go!”

“The rest of us can round up our red fledglings,” Stevie Rae said. “Since Dragon used it to store weapons, it would figure that the basement is close to the field house. How ’bout we meet in there in an hour or so?”

“Sounds good,” I said. Stark put his arm possessively around me and spider monkeyed me from our booth. When we got to the cafeteria door he paused and, in full sight of everyone, pulled me into his arm and kissed me. I mean, really kissed me—with his tongue and everything.

Okay, I absolutely like kissing Stark, but I’m not into PDA. I mean, I like to hold Stark’s hand in public. I even usually like it when he puts his arm around me (which he usually does in a nice way, and not a clingy, spider monkey way), but we don’t make out in public. Ever. So my face felt really hot with mortification when he unlocked his lips from mine, put his arm back around me, and practically dragged me out of the cafeteria—while shooting a look over his shoulder at the table and, of course, at Aurox.

I wanted to smack him in the face.

Instead, as soon as we were outside, I untangled myself from him and held his hand. Like normal.

He didn’t say anything. He just gave me his cute, cocky smile.

I stifled a shriek of irritation and ignored the hot anger building inside me. If I told him how annoying and stupid he was being, it would just cause a fight between us, and we had way more important issues to deal with than Stark acting like a jealous jerk.

Plus, I wasn’t interested in Aurox. Stark would figure that out pretty soon and, hopefully, stop with his possessiveness.

But you are interested in Heath, a terrible little voice whispered inside me. And Heath’s soul is shared with Aurox.

I reminded the whispering voice that Stark was my Warrior, my Guardian, my lover, and my friend.

And what is Heath?

Dead! I told myself sternly. But even though I tried to shut my heart and mind to it, the echo of our psaghetti song sang within me.

CHAPTER FIVE

Zoey

“She still sleeps,” Darius said, keeping his voice low and closing the door to Aphrodite’s dorm room softly behind him.

“It’s really late. Is she okay?” I asked, feeling weird standing out in the hall and whispering.

“She will be.” Darius said. “Last night was difficult for her.”

“How drunk did she get?” Stark asked sardonically.

“Her father was murdered on our school’s campus. She drank,” Darius said evasively.

“And now she’s hung over,” Stark said.

“And now she must rest,” Darius corrected him, seeming to stand straighter and grow taller.

Ah, crap. That’s all I needed—Stark and Darius butting heads.

“Rest is a good idea.” I moved so that I was standing between them. “I remember how terrible I felt after my mom was killed. You remember, too, don’t you, Stark?” I asked pointedly.

“I don’t remember you being drunk,” he said.

“And I don’t remember you being judgmental!” I’d finally had enough. “Jeesh, give the girl a break. Her dad was murdered and her mom disowned her—all in the same night. Any way you look at it, that sucks.”

“Getting wasted isn’t the right way to deal with it,” Stark said.

“Who the hell says so? You sound like you’re a zillion years old. Just leave it alone,” I said.

“You’re the one who said you wanted to see her. And now you’re here and she’s too hung over to even talk to you,” Stark said.

“No, I said I wanted to check on her.” I turned to Darius. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Yes, I believe so,” he said.

“There,” I turned back to Stark. “She’s been checked on.”

“I mean no disrespect, Priestess, but could the two of you find somewhere else to fight? My Prophetess truly does need to rest,” Darius said.

Stark’s shoulders slumped and he rubbed his hand over his face. “Z and I aren’t fighting.” He glanced at me and smiled apologetically. “At least, I didn’t mean to start a fight. Sorry ’bout that.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “And I don’t want to fight, either.”

“Good.” His smile widened and he seemed his usual sweet, charming self again. “Hey, Darius, me wanting to act like a douche wasn’t the reason I came over here with Z.”

Darius’s lips tilted up. “I am glad to hear it.”

“Actually, I came to ask you if you know anything about a basement-like place here. Damien mentioned that he thought Dragon stored old shields and swords down there.”

“I do know of such a place. It stretches under the main part of the school building. The entrance to it is from the hallway that runs between the field house and the stables.”

“Do you know if there’s more than one entrance to it?” I asked.

“I am not certain. I have only been there a few times, and then my visits were brief. I was simply returning unneeded shields to their storage place. My memory is of a long, dark room. The ceiling is low, but the floor is stone and it’s as sturdily built as is the rest of the House of Night.”

“Sounds perfect,” Stark said. “Would you show us how to get there?”

“Of course.” He hesitated and glanced over his shoulder at the closed door of the dorm room he shared with Aphrodite.

“You don’t have to be gone long,” I assured him. “Just show us to the basement, and then you can come back here and see if Aphrodite’s ready for something to eat.”

“A big, greasy hamburger and fries is good for a hangover,” Stark said.

Darius smiled. “Aphrodite says girls who eat cows start looking like them.”

“Of course she does,” I said. “You may want to bring her back something less bovine and more sex kitten.”

“Hey, I’d pay to watch what Aphrodite would do if Darius brought her a bowl of cream and a can of tuna,” Stark said.

The three of us laughed as we headed from the girls’ dorm to the field house. The night was unusually warm for February. I thought I might even smell spring on the soft breeze that blew through campus. I definitely heard sounds that meant spring—fledglings talking by lamplight and cats meowing at their chosen vampyre.

Cats!

“Ah, hell! Nala and all the other cats are still at the depot. They’re probably totally freaked that we didn’t come back,” I said.

“They’ll be fine for a couple of days,” Stark said. “They all have those big auto feeders and they like to drink from that shower up in the depot that won’t turn off, remember?”

“Their potty pans will get super nasty.” I grimaced, just thinking about how uber-grumpy that would make the already grumpy Nala.

“Yeah, that’s going to be disgusting,” Stark said. Darius grunted in agreement. “I feel sorry for poor Duchess being stuck with all of those cats.”

“Hey, she’s liking the cats,” I reminded him. “She was actually sleeping with Damien’s Cammy cat.”

“Everyone likes Damien’s Cammy,” Stark said, smiling. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">