If Nala hadn't hissed a warning, I would have jumped out of my skin when a deep voice spoke behind me. "You look completely engrossed in that." I glanced over my shoulder--and froze. Ohmygod. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you. It was just so unusual to see a student writing feverishly in longhand, rather than pecking away at the computer keys, that I thought you might be writing poetry. You see, I prefer to write poetry longhand. The computer is just too impersonal." Stop being such a moron! Speak to him! My mind screamed at me. "I--uh--I'm not writing poetry." God, that was brilliant. "Oh, well. Doesn't hurt to check. Nice talking with you." He smiled and started to turn away and my mouth finally managed to work a little more correctly. "Uh, I think computers are impersonal, too. I've never really written poetry, but when I write something that's important to me I like to do it like this." Totally dorklike, I held up my pen. "Well, maybe you should try writing poetry. Sounds like you might have the soul of a poet." He held out his hand. "Usually about this time of day I come by and give Sappho a break. I'm not a full-time professor because I'm only here for one school year. I just teach two classes, so I have extra time. I'm Loren Blake, Vampyre Poet Laureate."

I grasped his forearm in the traditional vampyre greeting, try ing not to think about how warm his arm was, how strong he felt, and how alone we were in the empty media center. "I know," I said. Then I wanted to slit my throat. What an idi otic thing to say! "What I mean is I know who you are. You're the first male Poet Laureate they've named in two hundred years." I realized I was still grasping his arm and let go of him. "I'm Zoey Redbird." His smile made my heart flop around inside my chest. "I know who you are, too." His gorgeous eyes, so dark they looked black and bottomless, sparkled mischievously. "You're the first fledgling to have a colored-in, expanded Mark, as well as the only vamp, fledgling or adult, to have an affinity for all five of the elements. It's nice to finally meet you face-to-face. Neferet's told me a lot about you."

"She has?" I was mortified that my voice squeaked. "Of course she has. She's incredibly proud of you." He nodded at the empty seat beside me. "I don't want to interrupt your work, but do you mind if I sit with you a little while?"

"Yeah, sure. I need a break. I think my butt's asleep." Oh, God, just kill me now. He laughed. "Well then, would you like to stand while I sit?"

"No, I'll--uh--just shift my weight." And then I'll hurl myself out the window. "So, if it's not too personal, may I ask what you're working so diligently on?" Okay, I needed to think and talk. Be normal. Forget that he was easily the most heart-stoppingly beautiful man I'd ever been near in my entire life. He's a professor at the school. Just another teacher. That's all. Yeah, right. Just another teacher who looked like every woman's dream of The Perfect Man. And I did mean Man. Erik was hot and handsome and very cool. Loren Blake was a whole other universe. A totally off-limits, impossibly sexy uni verse I was not allowed access to. As if he saw me as anything but a kid anyway. Please. I'm sixteen. Okay, almost seventeen, but still. He's probably at least twenty-one or something. He was just being nice. More than likely he wanted a closer look at my freaky Marks. He could be collecting research for a highly embarrassing poem about the- "Zoey? If you don't want to tell me what you're working on, that's fine. I really didn't mean to bother you."

"No! It's okay." I drew a deep breath and got myself together. "Sorry--guess I was still thinking about my research," I lied, hop ing that he was a young enough vamp that he didn't have the in credible lie detector powers the older profs had. I blundered quickly on. "I want to change the Dark Daughters. I think it needs a foundation--some clear rules and guidelines. Not just to join, but once you're in there should be standards. You shouldn't be given a free pass to be as big a jerk as you want to be, and still get the privilege of being a Dark Daughter or Son." I paused and I could feel my face getting hot and red. What the hell was I bab bling on about? I must sound like the school idiot. But instead of laughing at me or, worse, saying something pa tronizing and taking off, he seemed to be considering what I said. "So what have you come up with?" he asked. "Well, I like the way this private school called Kent runs their student leadership group. Look--" I clicked on the right link and read from the text. "The Senior Council and Prefect System is an integral part of life at Kent. These students are chosen as leaders who vow to be role models and to manage all aspects of student life at Kent." I used my pen to point at the computer screen. "See, there are several different Prefects, and they are elected to each yearly Council by votes of the students and the faculty, but the final choice is made by the Headmaster--which would be Neferet--and the Senior Prefect."