Burned

they would take an army to open, but all the Warrior did was to say in a low, gentle voice, “Yur Guardian asks permission to enter, my Ace.” With the sound of a lover’s sigh, the doors opened by themselves, and Seoras led them into the most amazing room Stark had ever seen.

Sgiach sat on a white marble throne that was on a triple-tiered dais in the middle of the massive chamber. The throne was incredible, carved from top to bottom with intricate knots that seemed to tell a story, or portray a scene, but the stained-glass window behind Sgiach and her dais was already revealing dawn, and Stark staggered to a halt just outside its encroaching brightness, bringing the column to a standstill and drawing curious glances from all the warriors. He was squinting against the light and trying to make his brain work through the haze that the sunlight hours caused in him when Aphrodite stepped up, bowed quickly to Sgiach, and then told Seoras, “Stark’s a red vam-pyre. He’s different than you guys. He’ll burn up in direct daylight.”

“Cover the windows,” Seoras ordered. Warriors immediately did his bidding, unfurling red velvet drapes Stark hadn’t noticed before.

Stark’s eyes instantly adapted to the darkness that blanketed the room, so even before more warriors lit wall torches and tree-sized candelabra, he clearly saw Seoras stride up the dais steps and take the place to the left of his queen’s throne. He stood there with a confidence that was almost tangible. Stark knew, without any doubt, that nothing in this world, and perhaps not even the next, could get past Seoras to harm his queen, and for an instant Stark felt a terrible wave of envy. I want that! I want Zoey back so that I can be sure nothing ever hurts her again! Sgiach lifted her hand and caressed her Warrior’s forearm briefly, but intimately. The queen didn’t look up at Seoras, but Stark did. He was gazing down at her with an expression Stark understood completely. He’s not just a Guardian, he’s The Guardian. And he loves her.

“Approach. Lay the young queen before me.” As she spoke, Sgiach made a beckoning motion.

The column moved forward and gently laid Zoey’s litter on the marble floor at the feet of the queen.

“You cannot bear sunlight. What else is different about you?” Sgiach said, as the last of the torches was lit, and the room took on the warm yellow glow of open flame.

The warriors faded into the chamber’s shadowy corners. Stark faced the queen and her Guardian and answered her quickly, without any messing around or time-wasting preamble. “I usually sleep all during the day. I’m not one hundred percent as long as the sun is in the sky. I have more bloodlust than regular vampyres. I can’t enter a private home without an invitation. There might be more differences, but I haven’t been a red vampyre for very long, and that’s all I’ve figured out so far.”

“Is it true you died and were resurrected?” the queen asked.

“Yes.” Stark said the word quickly, hoping she wouldn’t question him more on that subject.

“Intriguing . . .” Sgiach murmured.

“Was it during daylight when your queen’s soul shattered? Is that why yie failed tae protect her?” Seoras asked.

It felt like the Warrior had shot the questions through his heart, but Stark met his gaze steadily and spoke only the truth. “No. It wasn’t daylight. I didn’t fail her because of that. I failed her because I made a mistake.”

“I’m sure the High Council, as well as the vampyres at your House of Night, have explained to you that a shattered soul is a death sentence for the High Priestess, and quite often for her Warrior as well. Why do you believe coming here will change that certainty?” Sgiach said.

“Because, like I said before: Zoey’s not just a High Priestess. She’s different. She’s more. And because I’m not just going to be her Warrior; I want to be her Guardian.”

“So yer willing tae die for her.”

The Warrior didn’t speak it as a question, but Stark nodded anyway. “Yes, I’d die for her.”

“But he knows if he does, then he’ll have no chance of getting her back into her body,” Aphrodite said, as she and Darius stepped up beside him. “Because that’s what other Warriors have tried, and none of them have been successful.”

“He wants to use the bulls and the ancient way of the Warrior to find a door to the Otherworld while he’s alive,” Darius said.

Seoras laughed humorlessly. “You cannae be expectin’ tae enter the Otherworld by chasing myths and rumors.”

“You fly the flag of the black bull over this castle,” Stark said.

“You speak of the tara, ancient symbolism long forgotten, like my island,” Sgiach said.

Stark countered with: “We remembered your island.”

“And the bulls aren’t so forgotten in Tulsa,” Aphrodite said. “Both of them manifested there last night.”

There was a stretch of silence in which Sgiach’s face showed utter shock, and her Warrior’s expression flattened to a dangerous readiness.

“Tell us,” Seoras said.

Quickly and with surprisingly little sarcasm, Aphrodite explained how Thanatos had told them about the bulls, how that had led Stevie Rae to evoking the aid of the wrong bull at the same time Damien and the rest of the kids were researching, which, in turn, had them discovering Stark’s blood tie to the Guardians and Sgiach’s island.

“Tell me again exactly what the white bull foretold,” Sgiach said.

“The Warrior must look to his blood to discover the bridge to enter the Isle of Women, and then he must defeat himself to enter the arena. Only by acknowledging one before the other will he join his Priestess. After he joins her, it is her choice and not his whether she returns,” Stark recited.

Sgiach looked up at her Warrior. “The bull has given him passage to the Otherworld.”

Seoras nodded. “Aye, but only passage. The rest is his to be doing.”

“Explain it to me!” Stark couldn’t keep a handle on his frustration any longer. “What the hell do I have to do to get into the damn Otherworld?”

“A Warrior cannot enter the Otherworld alive,” Sgiach said. “Only a High Priestess has that ability, and not many of them can actually gain access to that realm.”

“I know that,” Stark said through gritted teeth. “But, like you said, the bulls are letting me in.”

“No,” Seoras corrected. “They’re allowing you passage to, nae entry. You cannae ever gain entry as a Warrior.”

“But I am a Warrior! So how do I get in? What’s the part about defeating myself mean?”

“That’s where the old religion comes in. Long ago, male vampyres could serve the Goddess or the gods, in more than a Warrior’s capacity,” Sgiach said.

“Some of us were Shamans,” Seoras said.

“Okay, so, I need to be a Shaman, too?” Stark asked, utterly confused.

“There is only one Warrior I’ve ever known who also became a Shaman.” To convey her meaning, Sgiach rested her hand on Seoras’s forearm.

“You’re both,” Aphrodite said excitedly. “So tell Stark how to do it! How he can become a Shaman along with being a Warrior.”

The ancient Warrior’s brows went up, and one corner of his mouth lifted in a sardonic smile. “Ach, ’tis quite simple really. The Warrior within must die tae give birth to the Shaman.”

“Great. Either way I have to die,” Stark said.