Page 23

I'd been there for more than an hour and was getting frustrated by my snail-like pace. I really wished I could ask for Damien's help. Not only was the kid smart and a fast reader, he was also seriously good at research. I was clutching Rituals to Heal Body and Spirit and trying to get a top-shelf copy of a leather-bound old-as-dirt book titled Combating Evil with Spells and Rituals, when a strong arm reached up and plucked it easily from over my head. I turned around and almost banged dorkishly right into Loren Blake.

"Combating Evil, huh? Interesting choice of reading material." His nearness did not help my nerves. "You know me" (which he really didn't). "I like to be prepared." His brow wrinkled in confusion. "Are you expecting an attack of evil?"

"No!" I said way too quickly. So I laughed, trying for a g*y, carefree tone (gay, hee-hee), but was sure I came across as totally fake. "Well, a couple months ago no one expected Aphrodite to lose control of a bunch of blood-sucking vampyre spirits and she did. So I figured, you know, better safe than sorry." God, I'm a moron.

"Guess that makes sense. So there's nothing specific you're preparing for?" I wondered at the sharp interest in his eyes. "Nope," I said nonchalantly. "Just trying to do a good job as leader of the Dark Daughters."

He glanced at the rituals book I was holding. "You know that those rituals are only for adult vampyres, don't you? When fledglings get sick there is, unfortunately, only one reason behind it. Their bodies are rejecting the Change and they will die." Then he added in a gentler voice, "You're not feeling ill, are you?"

"Oh, gosh, no!" I said hastily. "I'm fine. It's just, well-" I hesitated, grasping for an excuse. With a sudden inspiration I blurted, "It's embarrassing to admit, but I thought I'd do some extra studying for when I become a High Priestess."

Loren smiled. "Why would that be embarrassing to admit? I wouldn't have imagined you as one of those silly women who think being well read and well educated is an embarrassment." I felt my cheeks start to get warm-he'd called me a "woman," which was way better than him calling me a fledgling or a kid. He always made me feel so grown, so womanly. "Oh, no, that's not it. It's embarrassing because it sounds kinda conceited to assume that I'm going to actually be a High Priestess someday."

"I think that assumption is just good common sense and justifiable self-confidence." His smile warmed till I swear I could feel the heat of it against my skin. "I always have been drawn to confident women." God, he made my toes squidge.

"You don't have any idea how special you are, do you, Zoey? You're unique. Not like the rest of the fledglings. You're a goddess among those who think themselves demigods." When his hand caressed the side of my face, lingering on the tattoos that framed my eyes, I thought I'd melt into the bookshelves. "I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright. Who art as black as hell, as dark as night."

"What's that from?" His touch had made my body all tingly and my head woozy, but I did manage to recognize the deep cadence his amazing voice took on when he was reciting poetry.

"Shakespeare," he murmured as his thumb brushed softly over the line of tattoos that decorated my cheekbone.

"It's from one of the sonnets he wrote to the Dark Lady, who was his true love. We know, of course, that he was a vampyre. But we believe the true love of his life was a young girl who had been Marked and who died as a fledgling without completing the Change."

"I thought adult vampyres weren't supposed to have relationships with fledglings." We were so close that I didn't have to speak much above a whisper for him to hear me.

"We're not supposed to. It's highly improper. But sometimes there's an attraction that happens between two people that transcends the vampyre-fledgling boundary, as well as age and propriety. Do you believe in that kind of attraction, Zoey?"

He was talking about us! We were staring into each other's eyes, and I felt lost in him. His tattoos were a bold pattern of intricate slashing lines that gave the impression of lightning bolts, and they went perfectly with his dark hair and eyes. He was so insanely handsome and so much older that he made me feel at the same time incredibly attracted to him and scared to death that I was playing with something so far beyond what I'd ever experienced that it could easily spiral out of control. But the attraction was there-and if he was right, it definitely transcended the vampyre-fledgling boundary. So much so that Erik had even noticed how Loren looked at me.