Untamed

boyfriends, was going to be my drama teacher—as if having him back at the House of Night wasn't drama enough. 'No,' I repeated more firmly. 'I think I'm going to go check on Persephone.' Okay, I realize I'd been in her stall not too long ago, but I could definitely use another dose of her quiet, warm presence.

'Are you sure?' Damien asked. 'We really would like you to come with us.'

The rest of my friends nodded and smiled, thawing the last of the knot of fear that had frozen in my stomach since they'd been mad at me.

'Thanks, guys. But I'm not really up for hanging out tonight,' I said.

'Okey,' said Erin.

'Dokey,' said Shaunee.

'See ya,' Jack said.

I thought Damien would give me his typical good-bye hug, but instead he told Jack, 'You guys go on, and I'll catch up with you. I'm going to walk Z to the stables.'

'Good idea,' Jack said. 'I'll get your popcorn ready for you.'

Damien smiled. 'Save me a seat, too?'

Jack grinned back at him and gave him a quick, sweet kiss. 'Always.'

Then the Twins and Jack took off in one direction, and Damien and I went in the opposite direction. Hopefully that wasn't an omen about where our lives were heading.

'You really don't have to walk me to the stables,' I said. 'It's just not that far.'

'Didn't you say earlier that something attacked you and hurt your hand when you were walking from the stables to the cafeteria?'

I raised my brows at him. 'I didn't think you believed me about that.'

'Well, let's just say that Aphrodite's visions have converted me. So when you're done communing with your horse, if you want you can give me a call on your cell. Jack and I will pretend like we're much more butch than we are and come escort you back.'

'Oh, please. You aren't what I'd call swishy and fluttery.'

'Well, I'm not, but Jack is.'

We laughed. I was considering arguing with him about the whole Zoey-has-to-have-an-escort issue when the crow started cawing. Actually, now that I was wide awake and listening, the cawing seemed more like weird croaking, but it wasn't any less annoying.

No, maybe annoying wasn't the right word for the sound. Creepy. Creepy was exactly the right word for the sound.

'You hear that, don't you?' I said.

'The raven? Yeah.'

'Raven? I thought it was a crow.'

'No, I don't think so. If I remember correctly, crows caw, but a raven's cry is more like the croaking of toads.' Damien paused, and the bird croaked a few more times. It sounded closer, and its ugly voice caused goose bumps to rise on my arms. 'Yep, that's definitely a raven.'

'I don't like it. And why is it being so noisy? It's winter—it couldn't be mating, could it? Plus, it's night. Shouldn't it be asleep?' I peered out into the darkness as I spoke, but didn't see any of the stupid noisy birds, which wasn't so unusual. I mean, they're black and it is night. But that one raven seemed to fill the sky around me, and something about its abrasive call made my skin shiver.

'I really don't know very much about their habits.' Damien paused, looked carefully at me. 'Why is it bothering you so much?'

'I heard wings flapping before, when whatever it was came at me. And it just feels creepy. Don't you feel it?'

'I don't.'

I sighed and thought he was going to tell me that maybe I needed to get a handle on my stress and my imagination, but he surprised me by saying, 'But you're more intuitive than I am. So if you say the bird feels wrong, I believe you.'

'You do?' We were at the steps of the stable, and I stopped and turned to him.

His smile was full of familiar warmth. 'Of course I do. I believe in you, Zoey.'

'Still?' I said.

'Still,' he said firmly. 'And I've got your back.'

And just like that, the raven stopped croaking and the shivery creepiness I'd been feeling seemed to drift away with it.

I had to clear my throat and blink hard before I could manage to say, 'Thanks, Damien.'

Then Nala's grumpy old woman cat voice 'mee-uf-owed' at me as my fat little orange cat padded out of the darkness to twine herself around Damien's legs.

'Hey there, little girl,' he said, giving her a scratch under her chin. 'Looks like she's here to take over the watch Zoey duty.'

'Yep, I think you've definitely been relieved,' I said.

'If you need me when you want to come back, just give me a call. I really don't mind,' he said as he hugged me tight.

'Thanks,' I said again.

'No problem, Z.' He smiled at me once more and then, humming 'Seasons of Love' from Rent, he disappeared back down the sidewalk.

I was still smiling when I opened the side door that led to the hallway that divided the field house and the stables. Mixed with the sweet hay and horse smell that was already wafting from the stable on my right, and the relief of knowing my friends really weren't pissed at me anymore, I could already feel myself beginning to relax. Stress—jeesh! I really needed to do some yoga or whatnot (probably more whatnot than yoga). If I kept up this tension, I'd more than likely develop an ulcer. Or worse, wrinkles.

I was just turning to my right and had my hand on the stable door when I heard a weird thwap! followed by a muffled thud. The noises were coming from my left. I glanced to the side and saw that the door to the field house was open. Another thwap! thud pricked at my curiosity, and as per typical for me, instead of showing some sense and going on into the stable as I'd meant to, I walked into the field house.

Okay, the field house is basically an inside football field that's not a football field but just the field part with a track around it. Inside it kids play soccer and do track stuff. (I'm really not into either, but I do know how the place works in theory.) It's covered so that fledglings don't have to deal with the whole sun issue, and lit along the walls by gaslights that don't bug our eyes. Tonight most of those were unlit, so it was the next thwap! sound and not my eyesight that drew my attention to the other side of the field.

Stark was standing there with his back to me, bow in hand, facing one of those round bull's-eye targets that have the different colors for different target areas. The red center of this particular target had been hit with a weirdly fat arrow. I squinted, but couldn't see it very well in the dim light, and the target really was way away from where Stark was standing, which meant it was way, way away from where I was standing.

Nala gave a little low growl, and I noticed that the blond pile of stuff beside Stark was Duchess all sprawled out, apparently asleep at his feet.

'So much for her being a watchdog,' I whispered to Nala.

Stark dragged the back of his hand across his forehead, like he was wiping sweat off his face and rolled his shoulders, loosening them. Even from this distance, he looked confident and strong. He seemed so much more intense than the other guys at the House of Night. Hell, he was more intense than human teenagers in general, and I couldn't help but find that intriguing. I was standing there, trying to figure out a hot-guy scale comparison for him, when he grabbed another arrow from the quiver by his feet, turned sideways, lifted the bow, and in one blurringly fast motion, released a breath and thwap! let loose another arrow, which sailed like a bullet directly to the bull's-eye of the distant target. Thud!

With a surprised little gasp, I realized why the arrow in the center of the target looked so weirdly big. It wasn't just one arrow. It was a bunch of arrows that had hit one right over the top of each other. Every single