“Just exactly what talkin’ thing do you mean?” she’d asked.

He’d glanced over his shoulder, and she could have sworn there was a smile in his eyes. “You talk. A lot. So go ahead and do it. It’ll give me something more annoying to think about than the pain.”

She’d harrumphed at him, but he’d made her smile. And she did talk to him the entire time she’d cleaned, bandaged, and reset his badly broken wing. Actually, she’d babbled in big bursts of verbal diarrhea, saying nothing and everything as she rode the tide of pain with him. When she was finally done, he’d followed her, slowly, silently, back to the abandoned mansion, and she’d tried to make the closet more comfortable by stuffing in blankets she’d grabbed from the museum’s staff lounge.

“You need to go. Don’t worry about this.” He’d taken the last blanket from her and then practically collapsed into the closet.

“Look, I put the sack of food right here. It’s stuff that won’t go bad. And remember to drink lots of the water and juice. Hydrating’s good,” she’d said, feeling suddenly worried about leaving him looking so weak and tired.

“I will. Go.”

“Fine. Yeah. I’m going. I’ll try to get back here tomorrow, though.”

He’d nodded wearily.

“All right. ’Kay. I’m outta here.”

She’d turned to go when he said, “You should talk to your mother.”

She’d stopped like she’d run into a John Deere. “Why in the world would you say somethin’ ’bout my mama?”

He’d blinked at her a couple times like she’d confused him, paused, and finally answered with: “You talked about her while you bandaged my wing. You don’t remember?”

“No. Yes. I guess I wasn’t really paying attention to the stuff I was sayin’.” She’d automatically rubbed her own right arm. “I mostly just moved my mouth while I hurried to get the job done.”

“I listened to you instead of the pain.”

“Oh.” Stevie Rae hadn’t known what to say.

“You said she believes you are dead. I just . . .” He trailed off, seeming as confused as if he were trying to decipher an unfamiliar language. “I just thought you should tell her you live. She would want to know, wouldn’t she?”

“Yes.”

They’d stared at each other until she’d finally made her mouth say, “Bye, and don’t forget to eat.”

Then she’d practically run out of the museum.

“Why in the heck did it freak me out so bad that he mentioned my mama?” Stevie Rae asked herself aloud.

She knew the answer, and—no—she didn’t want to say it aloud. He cared about what she’d said to him; he cared that she missed her mama. As she parked at the House of Night and got out of Zoey’s car, she admitted to herself that it wasn’t really his caring that had freaked her out. It was how his concern made her feel. She’d been glad he cared, and Stevie Rae knew it was dangerous to be glad that a monster cared about her.

“There you are! It’s about time you got back.” Dallas practically popped out of the bushes at her.

“Dallas! I swear to the Goddess herself that I’m gonna knock the living crap right outta you if you don’t stop scaring me.”

“Hit me later. Right now you need to get up to the Council Chamber ’cause Lenobia is not happy that you took off.”

Stevie Rae sighed and followed Dallas upstairs to the room across from the library that the school used as their Council Chamber. She hurried in, and then hesitated at the doorway. The tension in the air was so thick it was almost visible. The table was big and round, so it should have brought people together. Not that day. That day the table seemed more like a middle-school cafeteria with its separate and very hateful cliques.

On one curved side sat Lenobia, Dragon, Erik, and Kramisha. On the other side were Professors Penthasilea, Garmy, and Vento. They were in the middle of what looked like a serious glare war when Dallas cleared his throat, and Lenobia looked up at them.

“Stevie Rae! Finally. I realize these are unusual times, and that we are all under incredible stress, but I would appreciate it if you would restrain your next urge to take off to a park or wherever you went if a school Council meeting has been called. You are acting in the position of a High Priestess; you should remember to behave as such.”

Lenobia’s voice was so harsh that Stevie Rae automatically bristled. She opened her mouth to snap back at her and tell the Horse Mistress that she wasn’t the boss of her, and then leave the dang room and make her call to Venice. But she wasn’t just some fledgling kid anymore, and stomping away from a group of vamps who cared about Zoey—well, at least a few of them did—wasn’t going to help their situation.

Begin as you would end, she could almost hear her mama’s voice in her mind.

So instead of throwing a fit and taking off, Stevie Rae stepped into the room and sat in one of the chairs that was smack between the two groups. When she spoke, she didn’t let herself sound pissed. Actually, she tried her best to mimic the way her mama sounded when she used to get real disappointed with her.

“Lenobia, my affinity is for earth. That means sometimes I’m gonna need to get away from everyone and just be by myself with the earth. It’s how I think, and right now we all need to think. So, I will be takin’ off sometimes, with or without anyone’s permission, and whether or not y’all have called a meeting. And I’m not acting in the position of a High Priestess. I am the first and only red vampyre High Priestess in the entire world. That’s a new thing, so I’m thinkin’ there’s gonna be some new job descriptions that go along with it and, ya know, I may just have to make it up as I figure this Red High Priestess stuff out.” She turned to the other side of the room, and added a quick, “Hi, Professor P, and Garmy and Vento. I haven’t seen y’all in a long time.”

The three professors mumbled hellos, and she ignored the fact that they were staring at her red tattoos like she was a science project gone wrong at the 4-H fair.

“So, Dallas said Neferet dumped Kalona’s body on the High Council, and it looks like his soul is shattered, too,” Stevie Rae said.

“Yes, though some don’t want to believe it,” Prof P said, sending a dark look to Lenobia.

“Kalona is not Erebus!” Lenobia practically exploded. “Just as we all know Neferet is not the earthly incarnation of Nyx! This whole subject is ridiculous.”

“The Council reports that the Prophetess Aphrodite announced the winged immortal’s spirit had shattered, just as has Zoey’s,” said Proffy Garmy.

“Hang on.” Stevie Rae held up her hand to stop the tirade that was obviously getting ready to come at Kramisha. “Did you say Aphrodite and Prophetess together?”

“That is what the High Council has named her,” Erik said dryly. “Even though most of us wouldn’t call her that.”

Stevie Rae lifted her brows at him. “Really? I would. Zoey would. And you have. Maybe not out loud, but you’ve followed her visions, more than once. I’ve been Imprinted with her, not that I liked it or anything, but I can tell you that she’s definitely touched by Nyx and knows stuff. Lots of stuff actually.” She looked at Proffy Garmy. “Aphrodite can sense things about Kalona’s spirit?”

“So the High Council believes.”

Stevie Rae breathed a long sigh of relief. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in days.” She glanced at the clock, and started counting ahead seven hours for Venice time. It was about 10:30 P.M. in Tulsa, which meant it was probably still before dawn over there. “I need a phone. I gotta call Aphrodite. Dang it! I left my cell in my room.” She started to get up.

“Stevie Rae, what are you doing?” Dragon asked, as they all stared at her.

She hesitated long enough to look back at the room and the tense, glaring vamps. “How about I tell you what I’m not doin’? I’m not gonna sit around and argue about who Kalona is or who Neferet is when Zoey needs help. I’m not gonna give up on Z, and I’m not gonna let y’all drag me into some weird teacher bicker war.” She met Kramisha’s startled gaze. “Do you believe I’m your High Priestess?”