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“Fine.” With my free hand I tugged up my shirt, even though I knew none of the scar was exposed.

“Hey,” he said gently. “I’ve already seen it, remember?”

I met his eyes. Yes, I remembered. Actually, he’d not just seen my scar—he’d seen all of me. Naked. Okay, now my entire face felt hot.

“I’m not mentioning it to embarrass you. I’m just trying to remind you that you’ve almost died lately, too. We need you to be strong and well, Zoey. I need you to be strong and well. And that’s why I’m not going to take anything from you right now.”

“But I need you to be strong and well, too.”

“I will be. Hey, don’t worry about me. Apparently, I’m practically impossible to kill.” He grinned his cute, cocky smile.

“Keep my stress level in mind. Practically impossible is not the same as impossible.”

“I’ll try to remember that.” He pulled on my hand. “Lay down next to me for a little while. I like it when you’re close.”

“Are you sure I’m not going to hurt you?”

“I’m almost positive you will hurt me.” He smiled, making his words teasing, “but I still want you close. Come here to me.”

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 11

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.”