Tempted (10 page)

“What will you do with me?”

“I haven’t figured that part out yet.” She sighed and fidgeted, picking nervously at her fingernails. “Look, I think you’re safe here for at least one day. The storm isn’t letting up and the nuns aren’t going to be messin’ around out here. All of the fledglings will probably stay inside until sunset. By that time I should know what to do with you.”

“I still do not understand why you don’t tell the others about me.”

“Yeah. Well, that makes two of us. Try to rest. I’ll be back.”

Her hand was on the door latch when he spoke again. “My name is Rephaim.”

Stevie Rae smiled over her shoulder at him. “Hi. I’m Stevie Rae. Nice to meet ya, Rephaim.”

Rephaim watched the Red One leave the building. He counted one hundred breaths after the door clicked closed, and then he began shifting his body until he’d forced himself into a sitting position. Now that he was fully conscious he wanted to take inventory of his injuries.

His ankle was not broken. It pained him, but he could move it. His ribs were bruised but, again, he didn’t think any of them were broken. The bullet wound in his chest was serious, but the Red One had cleaned it and packed it with moss. If it didn’t fester and putrefy, he would heal. He could move his right arm, though it was difficult, and it felt unnaturally stiff as well as weak.

Finally, he shifted his attention to his wing. Rephaim closed his eyes and probed with his mind, following sinew and ligaments, muscle and bone, through his back and down the length of his shattered pinion. He gasped, almost unable to breathe, as he truly comprehended the full extent of the damage the bullet, and then the terrible, ripping fall had done.

He would never fly again.

The reality of the thought was so horrible that his mind skittered away from it. He would think of the Red One instead and try to remember everything Father had told him about her powers. Maybe he would find some clue in his memory that would explain her unusual behavior. Why had she not killed him? Perhaps she still would—or at least perhaps she would betray his presence to her friends.

If she did, so be it. Life as he had known it was over for him. He would welcome the chance to die battling anyone who tried to keep him prisoner.

But it hadn’t seemed she’d been imprisoning him. He thought hard, forcing his mind to work through pain and exhaustion and despair.
Stevie Rae
. That had been the name she’d given him. What was her motive in saving him if not to imprison and use him? Torture. It made sense that she had kept him alive so that she and her allies could force him to tell her all he knew about Father. What other reason could she have for not killing him? He would have done the same had he been lucky enough to have been in her place.

They will discover that the son of an immortal will not be easily broken,
he thought.

Stressed beyond the reserves of even his great strength, Rephaim collapsed. He tried to position himself so that he could attain some relief from the agony that wracked his body with every beat of his heart, but it was impossible. Only time could relieve his physical pain. Nothing would relieve the soul-deep pain of never being able to fly again—of never being whole.

She should have killed me
, he thought.
Perhaps I can goad her into it if she returns alone. And if she comes back with her allies and attempts to torture my father’s secrets from me, I will not be the only one to shriek in pain.

Father? Where are you? Why did you desert me?

That was the thought foremost in his mind when unconsciousness finally claimed Rephaim again and, at last, he slept.

“Hey, remember you promised the nun you’d go to bed. And I’m pretty sure that didn’t mean going to
his
bed.” Heath jerked his chin at the door to Stark’s room.

I raised my brows at Heath.

He sighed. “I said I’d share you with the stupid vamps if I had to, but I didn’t say I’d like it.”

I shook my head. “You’re not
sharing me
with anyone tonight. I’m just going to make sure Stark’s okay, then go to my own bed. Alone. By myself. Got it?”

“Got it.” He grinned and then kissed me softly. “See you soon, Zo.”

“See you soon, Heath.”

I watched him walk away down the hall. He was tall and muscular and looked every inch the star quarterback. He was all set to go to OU on a full-ride scholarship next year, and then, after college, he was going to be either a cop or a fireman. Whichever he chose there was one thing for certain—Heath would be one of the good guys.

But could he do all that,
would
he do all that, and also be a vampyre High Priestess’s consort?

Yes. Hell, yes. I am going to make sure Heath gets the future he’s dreamed of and planned since we were kids. Sure, some parts of it will be different. Neither of us planned on the vamp stuff. Some parts of it will be hard—like, well, the vamp stuff. But the truth is, I care about Heath too much to force him out of my life
and
I care about him too much to mess up his life. So we are just going to have to make it work. Period. The end.

“You going to go in, or are you just going to stand out here and stress?”

“Holy crap, Aphrodite! Could you not sneak up and scare me?”

“No one was sneaking, and ‘holy crap,’ is that a curse? ’Cause if it is, I’m afraid I’m going to have to wake up the Potty Mouth Police and have them make an arrest.” Darius followed Aphrodite into the hall and gave her a
be nice
look, which made her sigh and say, “So. Stark’s not dead yet.”

“Gosh, thanks for that update. You just made me feel ever so much better,” I said sarcastically.

“Don’t be a pain in my ass while I’m trying to be nice.”

I turned my attention to the only responsible adult in the area and asked Darius, “Does he need anything?”

The warrior hesitated for only an instant, but it was an instant that I caught. Then he said, “No. He is doing well. I believe he will recover completely.”

“
Well
. . .” I dragged out the word, wondering what the hell was really going on. Was Stark hurt worse than Darius was admitting? “I’ll check on him real quick, then I’m going to bed.” I raised a brow at Aphrodite. “You and I are roomies. Darius is rooming with Damien and Jack. Uh, that means you’re not sleeping with him ’cause that would freak the nuns. You got that, right?”

“Oh. No. You so didn’t need to give me that
Anne of Green Gables
lecture! Like I can’t behave with some propriety? Are you remembering my parents purchased propriety for Tulsa? My. Dad. Is. The. Mayor. I can’t believe I have to deal with this shit.”

Darius and I stared, speechless, as Aphrodite worked herself up into a seriously extraordinary hissy fit.

“I heard the damn nun. Plus, it’s not like this abbey is exactly romantic. Like I want to have hot monkey sex while the penguins cross themselves and pray? Ugh. Not hardly. Goddess! I may melt if I stay here too long.”

When she paused to take a breath, I inserted, “I didn’t mean I didn’t think you knew how to act. I was just kinda reminding you, that’s all.”

“Yeah? Bullshit. You’re a really bad liar, Z.” She walked over to
Darius and kissed him hard on the mouth. “Later, lover. I’ll miss you in my bed.” She gave me a disgusted glance. “Just say night-night to boyfriend number three and get your butt to our room. I do not like to be awakened after I’ve retired to my boudoir.” Aphrodite tossed her long, gorgeous blond hair and twitched away.

“She’s really amazing,” Darius said as he gazed lovingly after her.

“If by amazing you mean a total pain in the butt, then I’ll agree with you.” I held up my hand, stopping his she’s-really-not-that-bad comment before he could make it. “I don’t want to talk about your girlfriend right now. I just want to know how Stark’s really doing.”

“Stark is healing.”

I could almost see the big gap in the rest of his sentence. I raised both brows at the warrior. “But . . .”

“But nothing. Stark is healing.”

“Why do I think there’s more to it than that?”

Darius waited a beat and then he smiled a little sheepishly. “Perhaps because you are intuitive enough to feel that there is more to it than that.”

“All right, what is it?”

“It’s about energy and spirit and blood. Or rather Stark’s need of and lack of them.”

I blinked a couple times, trying to understand exactly what Darius was saying, and then I sucked in air as the lightbulb went on over my head and I felt like a total idiot for not understanding sooner. “He’s been hurt—like I was—and he has to have blood to heal, just like I did. Well, why didn’t you say something before? Crap!” I kept babbling on as my mind raced, “I don’t especially want him to bite Aphrodite, but—”

“No!” Darius interrupted, looking more than a little upset at the thought of Stark drinking from his girlfriend. “Aphrodite’s Imprint with Stevie Rae makes her blood repellent to other vampyres.”

“Well, hell! Let’s get him a blood baggie or whatever, and I guess I could try to find a human he could bite . . .” My voice trailed off. I hated, hated, hated thinking about Stark drinking from anyone else. I mean, I had already had to deal with his extracurricular biting before he’d pledged himself as my Warrior and gone through the
Change. I had hoped that the days of his biting other girls were behind him. I still hoped it! But I wouldn’t be so selfish that my feelings kept him from getting what he needed to heal.

“I’ve already given him some blood the sisters had on ice in the infirmary. He’s not in danger of dying. He will recover.”

“
But
?” I was exasperated that Darius’s sentences all seemed to have these big unfilled-in blanks at the end of them.

“But when a Warrior is pledged to the service of a High Priestess, there is a special bond between them.”

“Yeah, I already know that.”

“That bond is more than just an oath. Since ancient times Nyx has blessed her High Priestesses and the Warriors who serve them. The two of you are linked through the Goddess’s blessing. It gives him intuitive knowledge about you that makes it easier for him to protect you.”

“Intuitive knowledge? You mean like an Imprint?”
Goddess! Was this like I was Imprinted with two guys?

“An Imprint and a Warrior Bond have similarities. Both bind two people together. But an Imprint is a cruder form of a connection.”

“Cruder? What do you mean?”

“I mean that even though an Imprint often happens between a vampyre and a human for whom she cares deeply, it is a connection that originates in the blood and is ruled by the basest of our emotions: passion, lust, need, hunger, pain.” He hesitated, obviously trying to choose his words carefully. “You have experienced some of that with your consort, have you not?”

My nod was stiff and my cheeks felt hot.

“Contrast that bond with the Oath Bond you have with Stark.”

“Well, I haven’t had it very long. I really don’t know much about it.” But as I said the words, I realized that I did already know that the connection I had with Stark went beyond wanting to drink from him. Actually, I hadn’t even really thought about drinking from him—or him drinking from me.

“As your Warrior serves you longer, you will understand more of your bond with him. Your link with your Warrior means he could develop the ability to sense many of your emotions. For instance, if a
High Priestess is suddenly threatened, the Warrior pledged to her may feel her fear, and follow that emotional trail to his Priestess so that he may protect her from whatever is threatening.”

“I-I didn’t know that,” I stuttered nervously.

Darius’s smile was wry. “I hate to sound like Damien, but you really should find time to read your
Fledgling Handbook
.”

“Yeah, that’s on the top of my to-do list as soon as my world stops exploding. Okay, so, Stark might be able to tell if I’m afraid. What does that have to do with him being hurt?”

“Your connection isn’t as simple as just the possibility of him sensing your fear. It’s also about energy and spirit. Your Warrior may eventually be able to feel many of your strong emotions, especially as he spends more and more time in your service.”