Hunted

“I’d rather be Plan Z,” I grumbled.

“Well, this will help, even if it’s just a temporary fix.” He went to the mini-fridge and pulled out what looked like two water bottles, only the bottles were filled with a thick red liquid I recognized very well. He handed me one. “Drink up.”

I took it and frowned at him. “You have blood in water bottles in your fridge?”

He raised his brows at me, then cringed a little as the cut that stretched down the entire side of his face pulled. Finally he said, “I am a vampyre, Zoey. You will be one soon. To us having bottled human blood is the same as having bottled water. Only there is a lot more kick to blood.” He lifted his bottle to me and then drained it.

I shut off my mind and did the same. As always, the blood hit my system like an explosion, giving me a kick of energy and making me feel suddenly very much alive and invincible. My woozy head cleared, and the ache that had been radiating from my wound diminished, letting me draw a big, deep, pain-free breath.

“Better?” Darius said.

“Totally,” I said. “Let’s go get me some real clothes and find the others while this buzz lasts.”

“That reminds me.” He turned back to the fridge, grabbed another bottle of blood, and tossed it to me. “Stick that in your pocket. Drinking blood won’t replace sleep and the time your body needs to heal, but it will keep you on your feet. Or at least I hope it will.”

I shoved the bottle in one of the huge pockets of my baggy scrub pants. Darius strapped on his knife holster, grabbed a clean leather jacket, and he and I left his room, hurried down the stairs, and walked to the door of the building—all without seeing anyone else. It felt wrong, but I didn’t want to pause to talk about it. I didn’t want to do or say anything that might keep us there for even one more second than we had to be.

As Darius reached the front door of the building, I hesitated. “I don’t think it’s smart for the Raven Mockers to see that I’m up and walking around.” I kept my voice low, even though there was no one visible around us.

“You are probably right,” he said. “Can you manage it?”

“Well, it’s really not very far to the dorm. Plus, the weather’s already nasty. I’ll just call in some mist and increase the rain. That should do a pretty good job of hiding us. Remember to think that you’re made of nothing but spirit. Try to imagine blending in with the storm. That usually makes it easier for me.”

“Will do. I’m ready whenever you are.”

I drew a deep breath, grateful that my chest was almost completely pain-free, and centered myself. “Water, fire, and spirit, I need you,” I said. I flung wide one of my arms, as if receiving a hug from a friend, and hooked the other through Darius’s arm. Immediately I felt the three elements surge around and through me and, hopefully, Darius, too. “Spirit, I ask you to cloak us…hide us…let us blend with the night. Water, fill the air around us, bathe us and conceal us. Fire, I need you just a little—just enough to heat the ice so the mist forms.”

“Go."

“Okay," added all and anticipation around as at buoyed "But" by changes" "Darius." door="door elements everything felt fire,give grounds. He "I" i’d="I’d" ice="ice" in="in" into="into" it="it" let’s="let’s" magical.”="magical.”" make="Make" mist="mist." misty="misty" moved="moved" nodded="nodded" not="not" of="of" only="only" opened="opened" out="out" over="over" quickly="quickly." quivering="quivering" school="school" smiled="smiled" soupy="soupy" spirit="spirit" storm=""pat***** [needs correction]******

I’d been right about one thing: the weather was nasty. I’d definitely liked it more looking out from inside the warm, dry building. It had been bad before, but as the elements responded to my command the storm increased in intensity. I glanced around us, trying to discover if the Raven Mockers had noticed us, but the elements were working together well, and Darius and I walked in what felt like the middle of a blinding snow globe turned to ice. The ice and wind were so bad that I would have fallen right on my butt if Darius hadn’t had the reflexes of a cat and somehow managed to keep both of us on our feet.

Which reminded me, as he and I walked quickly but carefully down the frozen sidewalk, shrouded in a sudden mist that had blown up all around us, heads bent against the icy onslaught, I did not see one single cat. Okay, yeah, the weather was awful, especially after I’d messed with it, and cats don’t like anything wet, but I didn’t remember once in the months I’d lived at the House of Night walking anywhere on campus and not seeing at least a couple cats chasing after each other.

“There aren’t any cats around,” I said.

Darius nodded. “I already noticed.”

“What does it mean?”

“Trouble,” he said.

But I didn’t have time to think about what the absence of cats might mean (and to worry about where my Nala might be). I was already feeling the drain of energy. I had to focus all of my strength and concentration to keep a ru

We were almost to the dorm when I heard the girl’s voice. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but the high, nervous tone definitely meant that something was wrong. The tension in Darius’s arm, and the way he was peering around, trying to see through the elemental soup surrounding us, told me that he’d heard it, too.

As we got closer to the dorm, the voice got clearer and louder, and the words began to make sense.

“No, really! I—I just wanta get back to my room,” the frightened girl’s voice said.

“You can get back. After I’m done with you.”

I froze, pulling Darius to a stop with me as I recognized the guy’s voice even before the girl answered him.

“How about later, Stark? Then maybe we can—” Her words were abruptly cut off. I heard a little scream that ended in a gasp, and then there was an awful wet sound, and the moans began.

CHAPTER 20

Darius started forward, pulling me with him. We got to the little stoop that was the entrance to the girls’ dorm. There were wide stairs, framed with staggered, waist-high stone walls, excellent for sitting on and flirting with your boyfriend after he’d walked you to the door and before he kissed you good night.

What Stark was doing was a twisted mockery of the good-night kissing that usually went on there. He was holding a girl in what could have been an embrace, had it not been obvious that, just seconds before his teeth had locked on her neck, she’d been trying to get away from him. I watched, horrified, as Stark, oblivious to our presence, continued his attack on her. It didn’t matter that the girl was now moaning with sexual pleasure. I mean, we all know that’s what happens when a vamp bites someone: The sex receptors in both the “victim” (and in this case she was definitely his victim!) and the vamp were stimulated. She was physically feeling pleasure, but her wide, terrified eyes, and the rigidity of her body made it obvious she would fight him if she could. Stark was drinking in huge gulps from her throat. His moans were feral and the hand that wasn’t holding her tight against his body was fumbling at the girl’s skirt, lifting it so that he could situate himself between her legs and—

“Free her!” Darius commanded, pulling his arm from my grasp and stepping out of the pocket of concealing mist and night that had been hiding us.

Stark dropped the girl with no more thought than he would have given an empty QT Big Gulp. She whimpered and on hands and knees scrambled away from him toward Darius. Darius tossed an old-time handkerchief he’d pulled from his pocket at me, and said, “Help her.” Then he situated himself like a muscular mountain between the hysterical girl and me and Stark.