Hidden

It was a simple thing, really, to scale the rough wall, grasp the winter nude branches of the shattered tree, and then drop to the ground on the other side. Aurox crouched in the shadow of the tree. As he’d hoped, the brightness of the sun had emptied the school grounds, keeping fledglings and vampyres within the stone buildings, behind darkly curtained windows. He moved around the split base of the tree, studying the House of Night.

It was the stables that had burned. He could see that easily. It didn’t seem that the fire had spread, though it had left an exterior wall to the stables collapsed. That damaged opening had already been draped by a thick black tarp. Aurox pressed closer to the tree. Picking his way over the splintered fragments of its broken base, and its tangled mess of limbs, Aurox wondered why no one had thought to clear the wreckage of the tree from the otherwise meticulously cared for grounds. But he didn’t have time to wonder for long. A huge raven suddenly landed on a drooping limb right before him and began a terrible and loud series of croaks and whistles and oddly disturbing clucks.

“Go! Be gone!” Aurox whispered, making shooing noises at the big bird, which only made the creature explode in more of the croaking noises. Aurox lunged forward, intent on throttling the thing and his foot caught on an exposed root. He fell forward, hitting the ground heavily. To his shock, he kept falling as the earth opened under the weight of his body and he hurled, headfirst, down … down …

There was a terrible pain in his right temple, and then Aurox’s world went black.

CHAPTER FIVE

Zoey

I’d fallen asleep wrapped in Stark’s arms, so waking up to him shaking me while he glared and almost shouted, “Zoey! Wake up! Stop it! I mean it!” was totally confusing.

“Stark? Huh?” I sat up, dislodging Nala, who’d made herself into a fat orange donut on my hip. “Mee-uf-ow!” Nala grumbled and padded to the end of the bed. I looked from my cat to my Warrior—they were both staring at me like I’d committed mass murder. “What?” I said around a big yawn. “I was just sleeping.”

Stark grabbed his pillow and wadded it behind him so that he was propped up in bed. He crossed his arms, shook his head, and looked away from me. “I think you were doing a lot more than just sleeping.”

I wanted to strangle him.

“Seriously, what is wrong with you?” I asked him.

“You said his name.”

“Whose name?” I blinked, having a flashback to that creepy old movie Invasions of the Body Snatchers and wondering if Stark had turned into a pod person.

“Heath’s!” Stark scowled. “Three times. It woke me up.” Still not looking at me, he said, “What were you dreaming?”

What he’d said had shocked the hell out of me, making me mentally scramble. What the hell had I been dreaming? I thought back. I remembered Stark kissing me before I went to sleep. I remembered the kiss was super hot, but I’d been super tired and instead of doing more than kissing him back, I’d put my head on his shoulder and totally passed out. After that I didn’t remember a thing until he was shaking me and yelling at me to stop it.

“I have not one clue,” I said honestly.

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

“Stark, I wouldn’t lie to you.” I brushed my hair from my face and then touched his arm. “I don’t remember dreaming about anything.”

He looked at me then. His eyes were sad. “You were calling Heath. I’m sleeping right here next to you, but you were calling for him.”

The way he sounded made my heart squeeze. I hated that I’d hurt him. I could have told him it was ridiculous of him to be mad at me for something I’d said when I was asleep—something I hadn’t even remembered, but ridiculous or not, Stark’s hurt was real. I slid my hand in his.

“Hey,” I said softly. “I’m sorry.”

He threaded his fingers with mine. “Do you wish he was here instead of me?”

“No,” I said. I’d loved Heath since I was a kid, but I wouldn’t trade Stark for him. Of course, the rest of the truth was that had Stark been the one killed, I wouldn’t have traded Heath for him, either. But that was definitely something Stark didn’t need to hear—not now—not ever.

Loving two guys was a confusing mess, even when one of them was dead.

“So, you’re not calling out for him because you want to be with him instead of me?”

“I want you. Promise.” I moved forward and he opened his arms to me. I fit perfectly against his chest and breathed in his familiar smell.

He kissed the top of my head and hugged me. “I know it’s stupid of me to be jealous of a dead guy.”

“Yep,” I said.

“Especially when I actually liked the dead guy.”

“Yep,” I agreed.

“But we belong together, Z.”

I leaned back so that I could look into his eyes. “Yes,” I said seriously, “we do. Please don’t ever forget that. No matter what amount of crazy is going on around us—I can handle it, but I need to know my Warrior is here for me.”

“Always, Z. Always,” he said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Stark. Always.” I kissed him then and showed him that he absolutely didn’t have to be jealous of anyone else. And, at the same time, for just a little while, I let the heat of his love burn away the memory of what I’d seen when I’d looked through the Seer Stone that night …

Next time I woke up it was because I was way too hot. I was still in Stark’s arms, but he’d shifted a little and thrown his leg over me, cocooning me in my fuzzy blue blanket. This time he wasn’t being Crazy Boyfriend. He looked cute and little-boy young and out cold.

As per usual, Nala had made her bed on my hip, so before she could grumble I scooped her up, and slid both of us as gently and quietly as I could to the other, cooler, side of the bed. Totally asleep, Stark made a vague motion with his sword hand, as if reaching out for me. I focused on happy thoughts—brown pop, new shoes, kittens that didn’t sneeze in my face—and he relaxed.

I tried to relax, too—for real. Nal stared at me. I scratched behind her ears and whispered, “Sorry for waking you up. Again.” She butted her face against my chin, sneezed on me, and then jumped back on my fuzzy blue blanket, circled three times, and returned to being a sleeping fur donut.

I sighed. I needed to do like Nala—curl up and go back to sleep, but my mind was too awake. With awakeness came thinking. After we’d made love, Stark had sleepily murmured, “We’re together. Everything else will work itself out.” I’d fallen asleep feeling secure that he was right.

Now that I was, sadly, fully conscious, I couldn’t avoid the whole think-too-much-worry-too-much thing. Although, my guess was if Stark knew what I’d imagined I’d seen through the Seer Stone last night, he’d take back his everything else will work itself out comment, and turn back into Mr. I’m Jealous of a Dead Guy.

I put my hand over the small round stone that hung on a slender silver chain around my neck and dangled i

Nothing strange happened. Stark stayed Stark. I turned the necklace a little and took a peek at Nala. She stayed a fat, sleeping, orange cat.

I put the Seer Stone back under my shirt. What if I had imagined it? Seriously. How could Heath be in Aurox? Even Thanatos said he’d been created by Darkness through the sacrifice of my mom. He was a Vessel—a creature under the control of Neferet.

But she’d needed to kill Shadowfax to totally control him, and he had asked those questions about what he really was to Thanatos.

Okay, but does any of that make a difference? Aurox wasn’t Heath. Heath was dead. He’d gone on to a deeper realm of the Otherworld that I hadn’t been able to go because Heath was dead.