me. And I didn't have any reason to stay. So when I found out Tulsa wanted me, I told them I wouldn't compete again, no matter what. It didn't seem to make any difference, 'cause they still wanted me, so here I am.' The sarcasm in his expression faded, and for a second he just looked sweet and kinda unsure of himself. 'I'm starting to be really glad Tulsa wanted me so bad.'
'Yeah.' I smiled, totally off balanced by how connected I was feeling to him. 'I'm starting to be really glad Tulsa wanted you, too.' And then my mind caught up with everything he'd said, and a terrible premonition washed over me. I had to clear my throat before I asked the next question. 'Do all the vamps know how Will died?'
Pain flashed through his eyes again, and I was sorry I'd had to ask. 'Probably. All the vamps at my old school knew, and you know how they are—it's hard to keep anything from any of them.'
'Yeah, I know how they are,' I said softly.
'Hey, did I catch a weird vibe between you and Neferet?'
I blinked in surprise. 'Uh, what do you mean?'
'It just felt tense between the two of you. Is there anything I should know about her?'
'She's powerful,' I said carefully.
'Yeah, I got that. All High Priestesses are powerful.'
I paused. 'How about I say she's also not exactly what she appears to be, and that you should be careful around her, and leave it at that for right now. Oh, and she's majorly intuitive—practically psychic.'
'Good to know. I'll be careful.'
Deciding to beat a hasty retreat before this new kid, who on one hand seemed all intense and confident, and on the other was obviously vulnerable and completely and utterly fascinating me and making me want to forget that I'd sworn off sex. Sex!? I meant guys. I'd sworn off guys. And sex. With them. Oh, jeesh. 'I better get going. I have a horse waiting to be groomed,' I blurted.
'Better not keep an animal waiting—they can be pretty demanding.' He smiled down at Duchess and ruffled her ears. As I started to turn to leave, he caught my wrist and let his hand slide down so that his fingers twined through mine. 'Hey,' he said softly. 'Thanks for not freaking about what I just told you.'
I smiled up at him. 'Sadly, with the kind of week I've been having, your weird gift seems almost normal.'
'Sadly, that's good to hear.' And then he lifted my hand and kissed it. Just like that. Just like he kissed girls' hands every day. I didn't know what to say. What's the protocol when a guy kisses your hand? Did one say thanks? I kinda wanted to kiss him back, and I was thinking about how I shouldn't be thinking that and staring into his brown eyes when he said, 'Are you going to tell everyone about me?'
'Do you want me to?'
'No, not unless you have to.'
'Then I won't tell unless I have to,' I said.
'Thanks, Zoey,' he said. He squeezed my hand, smiled, and then let me go.
I stood there for a second watching him pick up his bow and walk back to where the quiver of arrows were sitting in their leather holder. Without looking at me again, he took an arrow from the quiver, sighted, and let it fly free to the exact center of the target again. Seriously, he was totally and completely mysterious and sexy, and I was soooo out of there. I turned and, telling myself that I really needed to get a handle on my hormones, was almost out the door when I heard his first cough. I froze, hoping that if I just paused for a second, he'd clear his throat like before and then the next sound I'd hear would be another arrow hitting the bull's-eye.
Stark coughed again. This time I could hear the horrible liquid rattle in the back of his throat. And then the smell hit me—the beautiful, terrible smell of fresh blood. I gritted my teeth against my disgusting desire.
I didn't want to turn around. I wanted to run out of the building, call someone to help him, and never, ever come back. I didn't want to witness what I knew was going to come next.
'Zoey!' My name was filled with liquid and fear when it came from his mouth.
I forced myself to turn around.
Stark had already fallen to his knees. He was bent over at the waist, and I could see that he was puking up fresh blood onto the smooth, golden sand of the field house floor. Duchess was whining terribly, and even though he was choking on blood, Stark put one hand out to stroke the big dog. I could hear him whispering to her between coughs that it would be okay.
I ran back to him.
He fell as I reached him, and I was just able to grab him and pull him onto my lap. I yanked off his sweatshirt, ripping it down the middle so that he lay there only in his T-shirt and jeans. I used the sweatshirt to wipe at the blood that was pouring from his eyes and nose and mouth.
'No! I don't want this to happen now.' He paused, coughing up more blood that I kept wiping away. 'I just found you—I don't want to leave you so soon.'
'I've got you. You're not alone.' I tried to sound calm and soothing, but I was breaking apart inside.
'Good,' he gasped, and coughed again, sending fresh rivulets of blood from his nose and mouth. 'I'm glad it's you. If it has to happen, I'm glad it's you here with me.'
'Sssh,' I said. 'I'll call for help.' I closed my eyes and did the first thing that popped into my mind. I called Damien. Thinking hard about air and wind and sweet, beautiful summer breezes, I suddenly felt a warm, questioning wind against my face.
'Zoey!' Stark called my name and then coughed again and again.
'Don't talk. Save your strength,' I said, holding him tightly with one arm and brushing the wet hair gently back from his damp face with my free hand.
'You're crying,' he said. 'Don't cry.'
'I—I can't help it,' I said.
'I should have kissed more than your hand . . . thought I'd have more time,' he whispered between liquid, panting breaths. '. . . too late now.'
I looked into his eyes and completely forgot the rest of the world. In that moment, all I knew was that I was holding Stark in my arms, and I was going to lose him very, very soon.
'It's not too late,' I told him. I bent and pressed my lips to his. Stark's arms went around me, still strong enough to hold me tight. My tears mixed with his blood, and the kiss was absolutely wonderful and terrible and over too soon.
He broke his lips from mine, turned his head, and coughed his life's blood onto the ground.
'Shhh,' I soothed as tears washed down my face. I held him close and murmured, 'I'm here. I've got you.'
Duchess whined pitifully and lay down close to her master, staring with obvious fear into his bleeding face. 'Zoey, listen before I'm gone.'
'Okay, okay. Don't worry. I'm listening to you.'
'Promise me two things,' he said weakly. He coughed and had to lean away from me again. I supported his shoulders, and when he lay back in my arms he was trembling and so white, he looked almost transparent.
'Yes, anything,' I said.
One bloody hand reached up and touched my cheek. 'Promise that you won't forget me.'
'I promise,' I said, turning my cheek into his hand. His thumb shakily tried to wipe at my tears, which made me cry even harder. 'I couldn't forget you.'
'And promise you'll take care of Duchess.'
'A dog? But I—'
'Promise!' his voice was suddenly filled with strength. 'Don't let them send her to strangers. At least she knows you and can tell I care about you.'
'Okay! Yes, I promise. Don't worry,' I said.
Stark seemed to crumple in on himself with my last promise. 'Thanks. I just wish we . . .' His voice trailed off and he closed his eyes. He turned his head into my lap and put his arm around my waist. Red tears silently washed his face, and he became utterly still. The only part of him that still moved was his fluttering chest as he tried to breathe around the blood that was filling his lungs.
Then I remembered and I felt a rush of hope. Even if I was wrong, Stark had to know.
'Stark, listen to me.' He showed no sign of hearing me, and I shook his shoulders. 'Stark!'
