Betrayed

He dropped into the chair across from me as if his legs wouldn't hold him anymore. "Yes. No. I du

"Heath, what are you talking about?" I narrowed my eyes and sniffed in his direction. "Are you drunk?"

He shook his head.

"High?"

"No. I haven't had a drink in a month. I quit smoking then, too."

The words sounded simple, but I blinked and felt like I was trying to reason through mind mud. "You quit drinking?"

"And smoking. I quit it all. That's one of the reasons I've been calling you so much. I wanted you to know that I've changed."

I really didn't know what to say. "Oh, well. I'm, uh, glad." I know I sounded like a moron, but the way Heath's eyes were fo­cused on me was almost a physical thing. And there was some­thing else. I could smell him. It wasn't a cologne smell, or a sweaty guy smell. It was a deep, seductive scent that reminded me of heat and moonlight and sexy dreams. It was coming from his pores and it made me want to scoot my chair around the table so that I could be closer to him.

"Why didn't you return any of my calls? You didn't even text me back."

I blinked, trying to block the attraction I was feeling for him and think clearly. "Heath, there's no point. There can't be any­thing between you and me," I said reasonably.

"You know there's already something between us."

I shook my head and opened my mouth to explain to him how wrong he was, but he interrupted me.

"Your Mark! It's gone."

I hated his excited tone, and automatically snapped back, "You're wrong again. My Mark's not gone. It's just covered so the stupid humans around here won't freak out." I ignored the hurt look that seemed to take all the adultness out of his face and turn him back into that cute boy I used to be so crazy about. "Heath," I softened my voice. "My Mark will never go away. I'm either go­ing to Change into a vampyre, or I'm going to die in the next three years. Those are my only two choices. I'll never be like I was. It can never be like it used to be between us." I paused, and then added gently, "I'm sorry."

"Zo, I get that. What I don't get is why any of that has to end things between us."

"Heath, things had ended between us before I was Marked, re­member?" I said, exasperated.

Instead of his usual cocky comeback he kept looking into my eyes, and utterly sober and serious, said, "That's because I was acting like a jerk. You hated that I was getting drunk and high. And you were right. I was messing up. I've stopped that. Now I'm focusing on football and my grades so that I can get into OSU." He gave me the adorable, little-boy smile that's been melting my heart since third grade. "That's where my girlfriend will be going, too. She's go

"Heath—I—" I hesitated, working hard to swallow back the huge lump that was suddenly burning my throat and making me want to cry. "I don't know if being a vet is still what I want to do, and even if it is, that doesn't mean you and I can be together."

"You're seeing someone else." He didn't sound mad, he just sounded extremely sad. "I don't remember much from that night. I've tried, but whenever I think too hard about it, everything gets all jumbled up into one nightmare that doesn't make any sense and I get a really bad headache."

I sat very still. I knew he was talking about the Samhain Ritual he'd followed me to where Aphrodite had lost control of vampyre ghosts. Heath had almost been killed. Erik had been there, and as Neferet had said then, he had proven himself a warrior when he'd stayed by Heath's side and fought the specters, giving me time to cast my own circle and send the ghosts back to wherever it is they'd slithered away from. The last time I'd seen Heath he'd been unconscious and bleeding from multiple lacerations. Neferet had assured me that she would heal his wounds and fog his memory. Clearly, the fog had grown thin.

"Heath, don't think about that night. It's over and done with and better if—"

"You were there with someone," he interrupted me. "Are you going out with him?"

I sighed. "Yes."

"Give me a chance to get you back, Zo."

I shook my head, even though his words tugged at my heart. "No, Heath, it's impossible."

"Why?" He slid his hand across the table and put it on top of mine. "I don't care about the vampyre stuff. You're still Zoey. The same Zoey I've known forever. The Zoey who was the first girl I ever kissed. The Zoey who knows me better than anyone else on this earth. The Zoey I dream about every night."

His scent drifted up to me from his hand, hot and delicious, and I could feel his pulse thumping against my fingers. I didn't want to tell him, but I had to. I looked him straight in the eyes and said, "The reason you're not over me is because when I tasted your blood that time on the school wall I started to Imprint with you. So you want me because that's what happens when a vampyre, or apparently some fledglings, drink blood from a human victim. Neferet, our High Priestess, says that you haven't Imprinted all the way with me, and if I just stay away from you it'll fade and you'll be normal again and forget about me, so that's what I've been do­ing." I finished in a rush. I knew he'd probably freak out and call me a monster or something, but I really hadn't had a choice, and now that he knew he could put all of this in perspective and—

His laughter interrupted my mental tirade. He'd thrown back his head and was laughing with typical Heath exuberance, and the familiar, sweet, silly sound of it made it really hard for me not to smile at him.

"What?" I said, trying to frown.

"Oh, Zo, you crack me up." He squeezed my hand. "I've been crazy about you since I was eight. Like that had anything to do with you sucking my blood?"

"Heath, believe me, we've started to Imprint."

"I'm cool with that." He gri

"Will you also be cool with me outliving you by several hun­dred years?"

Dorklike, he wagged his eyebrows at me. "I can think of worse things than having a hot, young vampyre chic when I'm, like, fifty."

I rolled my eyes. He was such a guy. "Heath, it's not that simple. There're a lot of things to consider."

His thumb traced a circular pattern over the top of my hand. "You always did make things too complicated. There's you and me. That's all we need to consider."

"That's not all there is, Heath." A thought came to me and I lifted my brows and gave him a pretend-i

Totally unaffected, he shrugged. "I du

"Why not?" That was weird. Even if he wasn't dating Kayla, they'd hung out in the same group for years, we all had.

"It's not the same. I don't like the stuff she says." He wouldn't look at me.

"About me?"

He nodded.

"What has she been saying?" I couldn't decide if I was more hurt or pissed.

"Just stuff." He still wouldn't look at me.

I narrowed my eyes with realization. "She thinks I had some­thing to do with Chris."

He moved his shoulders restlessly. "Not you, or at least she doesn't say you. She thinks it's vampyres, though, but so do a lot of people."

"Do you?" I asked softly.

His eyes shot back to mine. "No way! But something bad's happening. Someone's kidnapping football players. That's why I was here today. I'm taping up flyers with Brad's picture on them. Maybe someone will remember him being dragged away or something."

"I'm sorry about Chris." I laced my fingers through his. "I know you guys were friends."

"It sucks. I can't believe he's dead." He swallowed hard, and I knew he was trying not to cry. "I think Brad's dead, too."

I thought he was, too, but I couldn't say it out loud. "Maybe not. Maybe they'll find him."