Hunted (21 page)

“What the hell are you guys talking about?” Aphrodite said.

“When you were all drunk and disorderly, Z discovered poetry written on the walls of Aphrodite's room,” Erin said.

“Written by Kramisha, but all of it seemed to be about Kalona, which is totally creepy,” Shaunee said.

“It's like she's channeling abstract images about him,” Damien said. “I think the poems in her room were meant to catch our attention, which means we need to check out everything Kramisha writes.”

“Oh, great. That's all we need. More gloom and doom poetry,” Aphrodite said.

“Well speaking of, here's two new ones.” Kramisha tried to hand me the couple of sheets of paper the poems were written on, but moving my arms up so I could hold them made me suck air with pain.

“Here.” Erik smoothly took the papers from her. Then he brought them to me and held them up so that Damien, the Twins, Aphrodite, Jack, and I could read them at the same time. The first one was baffling:

 

What once bound him

Will make him flee

Place of power—joining of five

 

Night

Spirit

Blood

Humanity

Earth

 

Joined not to conquer
,

Instead to overcome

Night leads to Spirit

Blood binds Humanity

And Earth completes
.

 

“That makes my head hurt. I mean, more than it already does. I cannot tell you how much I hate poetry,” Aphrodite said.

“Do you have a clue about this?” I asked Damien.

“I think it's giving us directions on how we can make Kalona flee, or run away,” he said.

“We know what ‘flee' means, Mr. Vocab,” Erin said.

“It's kinda depressing that it says flee instead of kill,” Jack said.

“Kalona can't be killed,” I said, speaking the words automatically. “He's immortal. He can be trapped. He can be chased away, although it boggles my mind to think about what might make him run. But he can't be killed.”

“Those five thingies together, in a place of power, make him run,” Jack said.

“Wherever that is, and whatever they are,” I said.

“They're people who represent each of those things. Or at least that would be my first guess. See how they're capitalized? That usually means they are proper nouns, or names,” Damien said.

“They're names,” Kramisha said.

“Do you know anything else about it? Can you tell who they are?” Damien asked.

Kramisha shook her head, looking frustrated. “No. It's just when you said that they be people, I knew you was right.”

“How about the next one?” Damien said. “Maybe it'll help us make sense of this one.”

I turned my attention to the other sheet of paper. The new poem wasn't long, but it made my skin crawl.

 

She comes back

Through blood by blood

She returns

Cut deep now

Like me

Humanity saves her

Will she save me
?

 

“What were you thinking when you wrote this?” I asked Kramisha.

“Nothin'. I was barely awake. I just wrote the words that come to me with both of 'em.”

“I don't like it,” Erik said.

“Well, it doesn't help us with the other poem, that's for sure. Actually, I think it's talking about you, Zoey,” Damien said. “I think it's foretelling your wound and your return to the House of Night.”

“But who's speaking? Who is this ‘me' that's asking if I'll save him or her?” I was feeling weaker and weaker by the moment, and the long strip of my wound was throbbing in time with the beat of my heart.

“It could be Kalona,” Aphrodite said. “That's who the first poem's about.”

“Yes, but we're not so sure Kalona ever had any humanity in him to lose,” Damien said.

I carefully kept my mouth shut, even though my first impulse was to say that I did think Kalona had not always been like he was now.

“On the other hand,” Damien continued, “we know that Neferet has turned from Nyx, which could also mean that she's lost herself, or her humanity. It could be referring to Neferet.”

“Ugh,” Erin said.

“She has definitely lost her damn mind,” Shaunee said.

“Actually, doesn't it make the most sense that it's that new undead kid talking?” Erik said slowly.

“You may be on to something,” Damien said. I could practically see the wheels in his mind turning. “The ‘Cut deep now / Like me' part could be metaphorical for his death. Zoey's wound is definitely life threatening, and they've certainly both been drawn to the House of Night because of blood.”

“And his humanity is missing. Like the rest of the red fledglings,” Aphrodite said.

“Hey, I don't know what you talkin' 'bout. I got me plenty of humanity,” Kramisha said, clearly offended.

“But you didn't have your humanity when you first rose, did you?” Damien said.

His voice was so clinical that Kramisha's feathers instantly unruffled. “No. You right about that. I had no damn sense about me at first. None of us did.”

“Sounds like a good guess about the meaning of the second one,” Damien said. “And because we have Kramisha on our side, her gift with words gives us a glimpse into the possible future. The first poem . . . I don't know. I'll think about it. What we need is to spend some time brainstorming possible meanings—time we don't have right now. But that's really inconsequential. We should still appreciate Kramisha.”

“Hey, not a problem,” Kramisha said. “It's all part a bein' the Poet Laureate.”

“The who?” Aphrodite said.

Kramisha fixed a sharp look on Aphrodite. “Zoey made me the new Vamp Poet Laureate.”

Aphrodite opened her mouth, but I beat her to speaking. “Actually, let's have a quick vote of my Prefect Council on whether Kramisha should be our new Poet Laureate.” I looked at Damien. “What's your vote?”

“Yes, definitely,” Damien said.

“I say yes, too,” Shaunee said,

“Ditto. We're due for a female Poet Laureate,” Erin said.

“I already gave my yes vote,” Erik said.

We all looked at Aphrodite.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she said.

“And I can promise Stevie Rae will vote yes, too,” I said. “So it's official.”

Everyone smiled at Kramisha who looked totally pleased with herself.

“Okay, so, to summarize,” Damien said, “we've pretty much decided that Kramisha's first poem is outlining a way Kalona can be forced to run away, even though we don't really have a good understanding of the details provided in the poem. The second is saying that Zoey's return to the House of Night might somehow save Stark.” Erik said.

“Yeah, that's what it sounds like.” I handed the pieces of paper on
which the poems were written to Aphrodite. “Would you put those in my purse, please?” She nodded and folded them neatly, tucking them into my cute little bag. “I wish both poems had come with more instructions,” I said.

“I think you should start by paying special attention to Stark,” Damien said.

“Or at least she should be on her guard around him,” Erik said. “The poem does mention being cut, and right now that's way more than a poetic metaphor.”

I listened while Damien semi-agreed with him and I looked away from Erik's penetrating gaze and right into Heath's sad brown eyes.

“Let me guess. Stark's
another
guy, isn't he?” Heath said.

When I didn't answer, he took a long drink from the bottle of wine.

“Well, uh, yeah, Heath,” Jack said, sitting next to Heath on the bed and looking concerned. “Stark is a fledgling who, I guess, was kinda a friend of Zoey's before he died and then un-died. He was a new kid, so none of us had gotten to know him very well.”

“But you knew things about him no one else did. Like that his gift from Nyx was that he never missed any mark he aimed at, right?” Damien said.

“Yeah. I knew stuff about him no one else knew, except Neferet and the professors,” I said, trying not to watch Heath guzzle down the bottle of wine and avoiding Erik's sharp gaze.

“I didn't know that about his gift, and I'm a professor,” Erik said.

I closed my eyes and leaned heavily back on the pillow. “Then maybe that was more info Neferet kept to herself,” I said wearily.

“So why would he tell you about something that was top secret?” Erik said.

Annoyed that he sounded like he was interrogating me, I didn't say anything, and against my closed eyes I easily recalled the image of Stark's cute, cocky half smile and how I'd felt a sudden connection with him and even kissed him as he died in my arms.

“Well, let's see—a not-so-wild guess says that Stark told Z about his
gift because she's top-shit fledgling and he wanted her to know the real deal with him,” Aphrodite broke in. “Can't you see you're wearing her the hell out with all of these questions!”

As my friends—well, all of them except for my “consort” and my possible “mate” —mumbled apologies, I kept my eyes closed and wondered just how badly I wanted to get all healed up, because it seemed, once again, I found myself in a “situation” that involved three guys. And that wasn't even counting Kalona.

Well, hell . . 
.

 

 

 

 

Thankfully, Stevie Rae's return stopped all of the Stark speculation.

“'Kay. I'm supposed to tell Erik to carry Zoey. The rest of you stay close. Darius is right outside in the parking lot,” Stevie Rae said.

“But we can't all fit in Heath's truck,” I said, forcing my heavy eyelids to open.

“You won't have to. We found something that'll work better,” Stevie Rae said. Before I could ask any questions she hurried on. “And Darius also said Z should bite Heath again for one fast suck before you head out. He said she ought to be gettin' real weak about now.”

“That's okay. I'm fine. Let's just go,” I said quickly. Yes, I felt like utter poop. No, I didn't want to bite Heath again. Well, I didn't mean I really didn't
want
to. I meant I really didn't think I
should
, especially with him being pissed at me just then.

“Just do it,” Heath said. Suddenly he was there beside me, still holding the bottle of wine in one hand. He didn't even look at me. Instead he focused his attention on Erik. “So cut me.” He held out his arm to Erik.

“My pleasure,” Erik said.

“No. I'm not okay with this,” I continued to protest.

In one blindingly quick movement Erik slashed Heath's forearm, and the scent of his blood hit me. I closed my eyes against the spike of desire and need that was driving into me with every breath I inhaled. I was gently jostled and then Heath's strong, warm thigh was again my
pillow. He wrapped his arm around me so that his cut arm was just under my nose. I opened my eyes then and, ignoring the need that was screaming through my body, I looked up at Heath. He was staring across the room at nothing.

“Heath,” I said. “I can't take anything from you you're not willing to give me.”

He looked down at me and I saw several emotions cross his expressive face, the foremost of which was a terrible sadness. In a voice that sounded almost as weary as I felt, he said, “There's nothing I'm not willing to give you, Zo. When are you going to understand that? I'm just wishing you would leave me with a little pride.”

His words broke my heart. “I love you, Heath. You know that.”

His expression softened into a slight smile. “It's good to hear you say it.” Then he looked from me to Erik. “Did you hear that, vamp?
She loves me
. And remember that no matter how big and bad you think you are, you'll never be able to do this for her.” Heath lifted his arm so that the bloody slash Erik had made in it was pressed against my lips.

“Yeah, I see what you can do for her. I might have to put up with it, but I don't have to have it shoved in my face.” Angrily knocking the blanket aside, Erik left the room.

“Don't think about him,” Heath told me softly, stroking my hair. “Just drink from me and think about getting well.”

I looked from the doorway to Heath's sweet gaze, and with a small moan I gave in to the need that raged within me. I drank from him, sucking in energy and life, passion and desire, along with his blood. I closed my eyes again, this time because of the intensity of the pleasure drinking from Heath gave me. I heard Heath's moan echo mine and felt him curl around me, pressing his arm more firmly against my lips and whispering sweet things to me that weren't entirely understandable.

My head was spinning by the time someone pulled Heath's arm from my grip. I felt stronger, even though my wound was burning like there was a fire camped out on my chest. But I was also feeling dizzy and weirdly giggly.

“Hey, she don't look right,” Kramisha said.

“But I feel more right. Or is that righter? Which is it, Damien-Shamien?” I paused and giggled, which hurt my chest so I clamped my lips tight together to make myself stop.

“What's wrong with her?” Jack asked.

“There's definitely something abnormal going on,” Damien said.

“I know what's wrong with her,” Stevie Rae said. “She's drunk.”

“Nuh-uh! I don't even like to drink,” I said, and then burped softly. “Oh, oopsie.”

“Boyfriend is drunk. She just drank from boyfriend,” Shaunee said.

“So that means Z's trashed, too,” Erin said. She and Shaunee had a wobbly Heath between them and they were guiding him back to the bed.