He sent a tentative smile back to her. “A crappy talent.”

“True, but still, not everybody has even a crappy talent,” she said. “Plus, you can act. Really act. So that accidental douche thing will probably come in handy when you head to Hollywood.”

“I don’t think I’m going to go to Hollywood,” he said.

Shaunee saw the shocked expression that fixed his face into frozen lines the instant he’d spoken the words.

“Is that the first time you’ve said that out loud?” she asked him gently.

“That’s the first time I’ve even thought it,” he said. His face had unfrozen, but now he was looking pale and unsure of himself. “I don’t know why I said it at all.”

Shaunee downed the rest of the sweet tea and then said, “Well, why did you want to go to Hollywood to begin with?”

“To be a star,” he answered quickly—automatically.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I want to be famous,” he said.

“Why?” she prompted again.

This time he took longer to respond. “So that people think I’m important.”

“Why do you care what people think?”

He turned his gaze into the fire. “Because I’m tired of people thinking I’m nothing but a great smile and awesome bone structure.”

Shaunee studied his profile. Had she ever looked beyond Erik’s famous hotness?

No. He’d always been the hottest guy on campus, and all she really knew about him was that lots of girls wanted him, and the most popular girls on campus had had him. She didn’t actually know anything about the guy under the famous Erik Night suit.

“If you could change what people think, what would want them to think of you?”

He turned from the fire and looked at her, and she realized that in those gorgeous blue eyes she could see honesty and vulnerability. “I wish they would think that I’m strong like Aurox, or brave like Darius, or faithful like Stark. Instead everyone thinks I’m a useless, conceited pretty boy.”

The raw honesty of what Erik had said had shocked her silent, and Shaunee was trying to figure out what to say next to him, when her body convulsed and flame blazed through her, using her as a superconductor on its way to reinforce Thanatos’s spell.

“Argh,” she moaned, holding herself tightly again and focusing … focusing … trying to strengthen her element as it roared through her.

But she was so tired! This had been going on for hours and hours. Why were so many people filled with ill intent? They were draining her! And probably killing Thanatos. No way could she keep this up. No way could she—

A strong arm went around her shoulders and Erik’s deep, beautiful voice spoke soothingly to her. “Breathe through it. It’s okay. You can do this. You’ve got this. Remember, flame is your element. It’s part of you. Don’t fight it—go with it. You can do it. You’re strong and smart. That’s why fire chose you. You can do it. I’m right here, and I believe in you, Shaunee. I know you can do this.”

His voice was a lifeline and Shaunee grabbed onto it and clung, following it back to herself, back to the familiar campfire.

“Here, drink my tea.” He shoved his cup into her hands and she drained it.

“I’ll get you some more cookies.”

He started to get up, started to take his arm from around her shoulders. “No, not yet,” she said, still panting. “Could you stay here, like this, for a few seconds?”

Erik smiled at her. Not his oh-so-perfect movie star bazillion-watt smile. He really smiled at her, and within his vulnerability, Shaunee saw kindness and true compassion. “I’ll stay like this for as long as you want me to,” he said, tightening his arm around her.

“Shaunee, I thought you might like another sandwich and some more tea,” Grandma Redbird said. Her smile grew as her gaze took in Erik sitting there with his arm around her. “Well, I’ll get a sandwich for you, too, Erik.”

“Thank you, Grandma Redbird,” he said.

“That’d be awesome, thank you,” Shaunee said.

“You are most welcome,” Grandma Redbird said, and just before she turned away she added, “Well done, Erik Night. I am proud of you, son.”

Shaunee looked up at Erik and saw that he was actually blushing, but when his eyes met hers his gaze didn’t falter. “I’m starting to think I’m proud of myself, too,” he said, and squeezed her shoulders again.

Shaunee leaned against him, borrowing strength and comfort from him, thinking, Now I know what they mean when they say “when you’re not looking for it, it’ll find you.”

Lynette

“You’ve been very helpful, Ms. Witherspoon,” Detective Marx said, closing his little notebook and hooking his pen back in his jacket pocket. “I apologize if my questions have tired you. You have been through a terrible ordeal.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Detective,” Lynette assured him, though she felt as if there was sand under her eyelids, and she was pretty sure the shot the vampyre healer had added to her IV was a lovely anti-stress, pro-sleep pharmaceutical cocktail. “I want to do anything I can to help you stop Neferet.” Lynette paused and tried to order her thoughts. The damn drugs had her words slurring and her mind turning foggy. “Detective, may I ask you a few questions now?”

“If you feel up to it.”

“I do, though please pardon me if I get some of my words mixed up.” She gestured to the IV bag. “This is definitely not blood they’re giving me.”

The tall detective smiled. “Just a little something so that you rest easily. The nurse said your system has been through a terrible shock. You need sleep to recover.”

“Yes, that’s my first question. Why am I here, at a vampyre infirmary, rather than at St. John’s Hospital just down the street?”

“Well, Kalona brought you straight here after he rescued you. I don’t believe a hospital for humans is anywhere on the immortals’ radar.”

“He didn’t rescue me. The High Priestess who put up that wall of fire did.”

“I suppose you could say that Kalona was at the right place at the right time,” the detective agreed. “Would you rather I call an ambulance from St. John’s and have you transported there?”

“Maybe in the morning. It was the High Priestess who made the wall of fire, wasn’t it?”

“It was teamwork that created the spell.”

The detective seemed determined to evade her question, so Lynette got to the point. “Did the High Priestess and her team kill people to make the spell work?”

Marx looked genuinely shocked. “Of course not! Ma’am, I was there when Thanatos cast the spell. Elemental magick was used, not human lives. Neferet has gone mad. She kills without remorse because she’s a sociopath, not because she’s a vampyre.”

“Has Neferet tried to get to the House of Night? Has she tried to contact anyone here at all?”

“Not that I know of—not that any of the school officials or fledgling leadership knows of. Neferet cannot leave the Mayo as long as the spell holds and her intent is to cause harm.”

“What if she just wants another case of her expensive wine? Or a new outfit or two from Miss Jackson’s? She might go out for those things, especially now that I’m gone. And her intent would only be to shop.” Lynette could feel her heart rate increasing as she spoke.

“No matter what Neferet’s reason to leave the Mayo would be, her true intent will always be to do violence, which the spell interprets as ill intent. She swore to kill both you and Kalona. That oath alone is enough to keep her trapped.”

“She won’t kill me. She’ll command one of those black snakes to go into my mouth and wrap itself around my brain and posses me!” As Lynette’s body began to tremble in renewed fear, the detective called from the room, “Hey, I need some help in here!”

The vampyre healer with the tattoo that looked like geometrical figures hurried into the room, frowning at the detective as she checked Lynette’s vital signs and made some adjustments on the IV.