couldn’t. It shattered her, Stevie Rae.” Tears had started to leak down Lenobia’s porcelain cheeks.

“Shattered her? What does that mean?”

“It means her body still breathes, but her soul is gone. When a High Priestess’s soul is shattered, it is only a matter of time before her body fades from this world, too.”

“Fades? I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. Are you tryin’ to tell me she’s going to disappear?”

“No,” Lenobia said raggedly. “She’s going to die.”

Stevie Rae’s head started to shake back and forth, back and forth. “No. No. No! We just gotta get her here. She’ll be fine then.”

“Even if her body returns here, Zoey isn’t coming back, Stevie Rae. You have to prepare yourself for that.”

“I won’t!” Stevie Rae yelled. “I can’t! Dallas, get me my jeans and stuff. I gotta get outta here. I gotta figure out a way to help Z. She didn’t give up on me, and I’m not givin’ up on her.”

“This isn’t about you.” Dragon Lankford spoke from the open doorway to the infirmary room. His strong face was drawn and haggard with the newness of the loss of his mate, but his voice was calm and sure. “It’s about the fact that Zoey faced a grief she could not bear. And I do understand something about grief. When it shatters a soul, the path to return to the body is broken, and without the infilling of spirit, our bodies die.”

“No, please. This can’t be right. This can’t be happening,” Stevie Rae told him.

“You are the first red vampyre High Priestess. You have to find the strength to accept this loss. Your people will need you,” Dragon said.

“We don’t know where Kalona has fled, nor do we know Neferet’s role in all of this,” Lenobia said.

“What we do know is that Zoey’s death would be an excellent time for them to strike against us,” Dragon added.

Zoey’s death . . . The words echoed through Stevie Rae’s mind, leaving behind shock and fear and despair.

“Your powers are vast. The swiftness of your recovery proves that,” Lenobia said. “And we will need every power we can harness to meet the darkness I feel certain is going to descend upon us.”

“Control your grief,” Dragon said. “And take up Zoey’s mantle.”

“No one can be Zoey!” Stevie Rae cried.

“We’re not asking you to be her. We’re only asking you to help the rest of us fill the void she leaves,” Lenobia said.

“I have—I have to think,” Stevie Rae said. “Would y’all leave me alone for a while? I want to get dressed and think.”

“Of course,” Lenobia said. “We will be in the Council Chamber. Meet us there when you are ready.” She and Dragon left the room silently, grief-stricken but resolute.

“Hey, are you okay?” Dallas moved to her, reaching out to take her hand.

She only let him touch her for a moment before she squeezed his hand and withdrew. “I need my clothes.”

“I found ’em there in that closet.” Dallas jerked his head toward the cabinets on the opposite side of the room.

“Good, thanks,” Stevie Rae said quickly. “You gotta leave so I can get dressed.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, watching her closely.

“No. I’m not okay, and I’m not gonna be as long as they keep sayin’ Z’s gonna die.”

“But, Stevie Rae, even I’ve heard about what happens when a soul leaves a body—the person dies,” he said, obviously trying to say the harsh words gently.

“Not this time,” Stevie Rae said. “Now go on outta here so I can get dressed.

Dallas sighed. “I’ll be waiting outside.”

“Fine. I won’t take too long.”

“Take your time, girl,” Dallas said softly. “I don’t mind waiting.”

But as soon as the door shut, Stevie Rae didn’t jump up and throw on her clothes like she’d meant to. Instead her memory was too busy flipping through her Fledgling Handbook 101 and stopping at a super-sad story about an ancient soul-shattered High Priestess. Stevie Rae couldn’t remember what had caused the priestess’s soul to shatter—she didn’t remember much about the story, actually—except that the High Priestess had died. No matter what anyone had tried to do to save her—the High Priestess had died.

“The High Priestess died,” Stevie Rae whispered. And Zoey wasn’t even a real, grown High Priestess. She was technically still a fledgling. How could she be expected to find her way back from something that had killed a grown High Priestess?

The truth was, she couldn’t.

It wasn’t fair! They’d all been through so much hard stuff, and now Zoey was just gonna die? Stevie Rae didn’t want to believe it. She wanted to fight and scream and find a way to fix her BFF, but how could she? Z was in Italy and she was in Tulsa. And, hell! Stevie Rae couldn’t figure out how to fix a bunch of pain-in-the-ass red fledglings. Who was she to think she could do anything about something as terrible as Z’s soul shattering from her body?

She couldn’t even tell the truth about being Imprinted with the son of the creature who had caused this awful thing to happen.

Sadness swept over Stevie Rae. She crumpled in on herself, hugged the pillow to her chest, and, twirling a blond curl around and around her finger like she used to do when she was little, began to weep. The sobs wracked her, and she buried her face in the pillow so Dallas wouldn’t hear her crying, losing herself to shock and fear and complete, overwhelming despair.

Just as she was giving in to the worst of it, the air around her stirred. Almost as if someone had cracked the window in the small room.

At first she ignored it, too lost in her tears to care about a stupid cold breeze. But it was insistent. It touched the fresh, pink skin of her exposed back in a cool caress that was surprisingly pleasant. For a moment she relaxed, allowing herself to absorb comfort from the touch.

Touch? She’d told him to wait outside!

Stevie Rae’s head shot up. Her lips were pulled back from her teeth in a snarl she meant to aim at Dallas.

No one was in the room.

She was alone. Absolutely alone.

Stevie Rae dropped her face in her hands. Was shock making her go totally batshit crazy? She didn’t have time for crazy. She had to get up and get dressed. She had to put one foot in front of the other and go out there and deal with the truth about what had happened to Zoey, and her red fledglings, and Kalona, and, eventually, Rephaim.

Rephaim . . .

His name echoed in the air, another cold caress against her skin, wrapping around her. Not just touching her back but skimming down the length of her arms and swirling around her waist and over her legs. And everywhere the coolness touched, it was like a little bit of her grief had been washed away. This time when she looked up she was more controlled in her reaction. She wiped her eyes clear and stared down at her body.

The mist that surrounded her was made of tiny sparkling drops that were the exact color she’d come to recognize in his eyes.

“Rephaim.” Against her will, she whispered his name.

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