Awakened

He rubbed his face again. “Yeah, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“It hurt.” I rubbed my neck.

“Let me see.”

I moved my hand away and he studied my neck. “It’s a little red, that’s all.” He bent and kissed the sore place uber-gently, and then said, “Hey, I really didn’t think I bit you that hard. Seriously, Z.”

“Seriously, Stark, you did. And you wouldn’t let go of my wrists when I told you to.”

Stark blew out a long breath. “Okay, well, I’ll be sure that doesn’t happen again. It’s just that I want you so much, and you turn me on so much—”

He paused and I finished his sentence, “—that you can’t control yourself? What the hell?”

“No! No, that’s not it. Zoey, you can’t think that’s it. I’m your Warrior, your Guardian—it’s my job to protect you from anyone who might hurt you.”

“Does that include yourself?” I asked.

His gaze met mine and held. In his familiar eyes I saw confusion and sadness and love—a lot of love. “That includes myself. Do you really think I’d actually hurt you?”

I sighed. What the hell was I making such a big deal about? So, he’d gotten carried away, grabbed my wrists, bit me, and not jumped the second I told him how high. He was a guy. What was that old saying? If it has tires or testicles, it’s gonna give you problems.

“Zoey, really, I would never let you be hurt. I gave you my oath, plus I love you and—”

“Okay, sssh.” I pressed my finger against his lips, shutting him up. “No, I don’t think you’d let anything hurt me. You’re tired. The sun’s up. We’ve had a crazy day. Let’s just sleep and agree to no more biting.”

“That sounds good to me.” Stark held open his arms. “Would you come here?”

I nodded and spider-monkied him. His touch was normal: strong and secure, but very, very gentle.

“I’ve been having sleep issues,” he said hesitantly, after he kissed the top of my head.

“I know you have—I’ve been sleeping with you. It’s been kinda obvious.” I kissed his shoulder.

“Not going to ask me if I want to go into therapy with Dragon Lankford this time?”

“He stayed. He didn’t leave the House of Night with us,” I said.

“None of the professors did. Lenobia stayed, and you know she’s one hundred percent behind us.”

“Yeah, but she can’t leave those horses, and there’s no way we can get them down here,” I said. “Anyway, Dragon’s different. He feels different to me. He wouldn’t forgive Rephaim, even after Nyx basically told him he should.”

I could feel Stark nodding. “That was bad. But, ya know, I wouldn’t be into forgiving someone who killed you, either.”

“It would be like me forgiving Kalona for Heath,” I said quietly.

Stark’s arms held me closer. “Could you do that?”

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know—” I hesitated, my words stumbling.

He nudged me. “Go ahead. You can tell me.”

I threaded my fingers through his and said, “In the Otherworld, when you were, uh, dead”—I could hardly speak the word and hurried on—“Nyx was there.”

“Yeah, you told me that. She made Kalona pay his life debt for killing Heath, and bring me alive.”

“Well, what I didn’t tell you was that Kalona got super emotional in front of Nyx. He asked her if she would ever forgive him.”

“What did the Goddess say?”

“She said to ask again if he was ever worthy of her forgiveness. Actually, Nyx sounded a lot like she did tonight when she was talking to Neferet.”

Stark snorted. “Not a good sign for Neferet or Kalona.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Anyway, my point is, well, not that I’m pretending to be a goddess or anything like that, but my answer about forgiving Kalona is a lot like Nyx’s to him and Neferet. I think real forgiveness is a gift someone has to earn, and I don’t even have to worry about Kalona asking for my forgiveness unless he’s worthy of even considering it, and I just don’t see that happening.”

“He set Rephaim free tonight, though.” I could hear the conflicting emotions in his voice. I understood them. I had them, too.

“I’ve been thinking about that, and all I can figure is that somehow setting Rephaim free is going to benefit Kalona,” I said.

“Which means we need to keep an eye on Rephaim,” Stark said. “You gonna mention that to Stevie Rae?”

“Yeah, but she loves him,” I said.

He nodded again. “And when you love someone you don’t always see them realistically.”

I drew back just far enough to give him The Look. “Are you saying that from experience?”

“No, no, no,” he said quickly, giving me his tired, but cocky grin. “Not experience, just observation.” Stark pulled gently and I curled against him again. “It’s time for sleepin’ now. Lay yur head, wumman, and let me get my rest.”

“Okay, seriously, you sound creepily like Seoras.” I looked up at Stark and shook my head. “If you start growing a white goatee beard thingie like his I’m gonna fire you.”

Stark rubbed his chin with one hand like he was considering it. “You can’t fire me. I’ve signed on for life.”

“I’ll stop kissing you.”

“Nae beard for me, lassie.” He grinned.

I smiled back at him, thinking how glad I was he’d “signed up for life,” and how much I hoped that meant he had his “job” for a very, very long time. “Hey, how about this: you fall asleep first, and I’ll stay awake for a while?” I cupped his cheek. “Tonight I’ll guard the Guardian.”

“Thank you,” he said, being way more serious than I expected. “I love you, Zoey Redbird.”

“I love you, too, James Stark.”

Stark turned his head and kissed the inside of my palm and the intricate tattooing the Goddess had placed there. As he closed his eyes and his body began to relax, I stroked his thick brown hair and wondered briefly if or when Nyx would add to my incredible tattooing. She’d given me Marks, taken them away—or at least my friends said they went away while my soul was in the Otherworld—and then Nyx returned them to me again when I returned to myself. Maybe I was set now—maybe I wouldn’t get any more. I was trying to decide whether that was a good or a bad thing when my eyelids got way too heavy to keep open. I thought I’d shut them, just for a little while. Stark was definitely sleeping, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt anything …

* * *

Dreams are so weird. I was having a dream that I was flying like Superman—you know, with my hands out in front of me kinda guiding me, and the theme music for the cool old Superman movies, the ones with the awesome Christopher Reeve, was playing in my head when everything changed.

The theme song was replaced by my mom’s voice.

“I’m dead!” she said.

Nyx’s voice responded right away, “Yes, Linda, you are.”

My stomach clenched. It’s a dream. It’s just a really bad dream!

Look down, my child. It is important that you bear witness. When the Goddess’s voice whispered through my mind I knew reality had seeped into the Realm of Dreams.

I didn’t want to. I really, really didn’t want to, but I looked down.

Below me was what I’d come to think of as the entrance to Nyx’s Realm. There was the vast Darkness into which I’d jumped to get my spirit back into my body. Then there was a carved stone archway above hard packed dirt, and on the other side of the arch stretched Nyx’s magickal grove, beginning with the ethereal hanging tree that was a magnified version of the one Stark and I had tied our dreams for each other on during that wonderful day on the Isle of Skye.

And just inside the Otherworld arched entrance stood my mom, facing Nyx.

“Mom!” I called, but neither the Goddess nor my mom reacted to my voice.

Bear witness silently, my child.

So I hovered above them and watched while soundless tears washed down my face.