Betrayed

A wave of weakness crashed over me and I staggered back.

"I got ya, Zo." Heath's strong arms were around me and I let myself rest against him for a moment. Several of his cuts had bro­ken loose during our escape, and the ripe scent of his blood tick­led against my senses.

"They're not really trapped, you know," I said softly, trying to keep my mind off how much I wanted to lick the line of blood that was trickling down his cheek. "We passed a couple other tun­nels. I'm sure they'll be able to find their way out eventually."

"It's okay, Zo." Heath kept his arms wrapped around me, but he pulled back enough so that he could look into my eyes. "I know what you need. I can feel it. If you feed from me you won't be so weak." He smiled, and his blue eyes darkened. "It's okay," he repeated. "I want you to."

"Heath, you've been through way too much. Who knows how much blood you've already lost? My drinking more of it isn't a good idea." I was saying no, but my voice trembled with desire.

"Are you kidding? A big, studly football jock like me? I got plenty of blood to spare," Heath teased. Then his expression turned serious. "For you, I have anything to spare." While he looked into my eyes, he wiped one of his fingers down the damp red slash on his cheek and the rubbed the blood on his bottom lip. Then he bent and kissed me.

I tasted the dark sweetness of his blood and it dissolved in my mouth to send a surge of fiery pleasure and energy through my body. Heath pulled his lips from mine and guided me to the cut on his cheek. When my tongue snaked out and touched it, he moaned and pressed my hips closer to his. I closed my eyes and began to lick—

"Kill me!" Stevie Rae's broken voice shattered the spell of Heath's blood.

CHAPTER 30

My face flamed with embarrassment as I pushed myself out of Heath's arms, wiping my mouth and breathing hard. Stevie Rae was standing down the tu

"Kill me," she repeated on a sob.

"No." I shook my head and took a step toward her, but she backed away from me, putting up her hand as if she wanted to hold me off. I stopped and gulped some deep breaths, trying to get myself under control. "Come back to the House of Night with me. We'll figure out how this happened. It'll be okay, Stevie Rae, I promise. All that matters is that you're alive."

Stevie Rae had started shaking her head as I'd begun talking. "I'm not really alive, and I can't go back there."

"Of course you're alive. You're walking and talking."

"I'm not me anymore. I did die, and part of me—the best part of me—is still dead, just like it is for the rest of them." She ges­tured back at the cave-in.

"You're not like they are," I said firmly.

"I'm more like them than I am like you." Her gaze shifted from me to Heath, who was standing quietly beside me. "You wouldn't believe the awful things that go through my mind. I could kill him without a second thought. I would have already if his blood hadn't been changed by the Imprint with you."

"Maybe it wasn't just that, Stevie Rae. Maybe you didn't kill him because you really didn't want to," I said.

Her eyes found mine again. "No. I wanted to kill him. I still do."

"The rest of them killed Brad and Chris," Heath said. "And that was my fault."

"Heath, now's not the time—" I started, but he cut me off.

"No, you need to hear this, Zoey. Those things grabbed Brad and Chris because they were hanging around the House of Night, and that's my fault because I'd told them how hot you are." He gave me an apologetic look. "Sorry, Zo." Then his expression hardened and he said, "You should kill her. You should kill them all. As long as they're alive people will be in danger."

"He's right," Stevie Rae said.

"And how will killing you and the rest of them solve this? Won't more of you happen?" I made my mind up and closed the space between Stevie Rae and me. She looked like she wanted to take off, but my words stopped her. "How did this happen? What made you like this?"

Her face contorted with anguish. "I don't know how. I only know who."

"Then who did this?"

She opened her mouth to answer me and then, with a move­ment so fast her body blurred, she was suddenly cowering against the side of the tu

"She's coming!"

"What? Who?" I crouched beside her.

"Get out of here! Fast. There's probably still time for you to get away." Then Stevie Rae reached out and took my hand in hers. Her flesh was cold, but her grip was strong. "She'll kill you if she sees you—you and him. You know too much. She may kill you anyway, but it'll be harder for her to do if you get back to the House of Night."

"Who are you talking about, Stevie Rae?"

"Neferet."

The name blasted through me and even as I shook my head in denial I felt the truth of it deep within me. "Neferet did this to you, to all of you?"

"Yes. Now get out of here, Zoey!"

I could feel her terror and I knew she was right. If Heath and I didn't leave, we would die.

"I'm not giving up on you, Stevie Rae. Use your element. You still have a co

"Let's go, Heath." I grabbed his hand so I could guide him quickly down the darkness of the tu

Heath and I ran. The surge of energy his blood had given me didn't last long, and by the time we came to the metal ladder that led up to the grate in the basement, I wanted to collapse and sleep for days. Heath was all for rushing up the ladder and into the basement, but I made him wait. Breathing heavily, I leaned against the side of the tu

"Can ya hear me now?" Heath said, gri

"Sssh!" I told him, but smiled back. Then I punched in the de­tective's number.

"This is Marx," the deep voice answered on the second ring.

"Detective Marx, this is Zoey Redbird. I only have a second to talk, then I have to go. I've found Heath Luck. We're in the base­ment of the Tulsa Depot, and we need help."

"Hang tight. I'll be right there!"

A noise from above made me cut off the co

"I think it's just a bird," Heath whispered. "I'm going to go look."

I was too tired to argue with him, plus Marx was on his way and I was sick of the damp, nasty tu

Heath nodded and squeezed my shoulder, then climbed up the ladder. Slowly and carefully he lifted the metal grate, sticking his head up and peering around. Pretty soon he reached down and motioned for me to climb up and take his hand. "It's just a pi­geon. Come on."

Wearily, I climbed to him and let him pull me up into the basement. We sat in the corner by the grate for several long min­utes, listening intently. Finally, I whispered, "Let's go outside and wait for Marx there." Heath had already started to shiver, but I re­membered the blanket Aphrodite had made me bring. Plus, I'd rather take my chances with the weather than stay in the creepy basement.