"Really? I wouldn't have had a clue about that if you hadn't enlightened me. I mean, most people who die and then come back to life as bloodsucking monsters look and act totally the same."

"I'm serious."

"Zoey, I saw Stevie Rae and some of the other creatures in my visions. They're gross. Period, the end."

"It's worse when you see them in person."

"No big surprise there," she said.

"I don't want you to say anything to Stevie Rae," I said.

"You mean about her being dead and all? Or about her being gross?"

"Either. I don't want her scared off. I also don't particularly want her to jump on you and rip out your throat. I mean, I think I could probably stop her but I'm not one hundred percent sure. And besides the fact that it would be disgusting and hard to explain, I really hate thinking about what all that blood would do to this cool apartment."

"How sweet of you."

"Hey, Aphrodite, how about you try something new. Try being nice," I said.

"How about I just don't say anything."

"That would work, too." I headed for the door. "I'll try to get her here soon."

"Hey," Aphrodite called after me. "Could she really rip out my throat?"

"Absolutely," I said, and closed the door behind me.

Chapter Twelve

I knew Stevie Rae had gotten to the gazebo before me. I couldn't see her, but I could smell her. Eesh. Seriously, eesh. I hoped a bath and some shampoo would help that stench, but I kinda doubted it. After all, she was, well, dead.

"Stevie Rae, I know you're here somewhere." I called as quietly as I could. Okay, vamps have the ability to move silently and to create a kind of bubble of invisibility around them. Fledglings also have this ability. It's just not as complete. Being as I'm a weirdly gifted fledgling, I can move around fairly well and not be seen by anyone who might be gawking out a window at 3:00 a.m., like a museum security guard. So I was pretty confident about my ability to be unseen in the semi-dark, fairyland grounds of the museum, but I had no idea if I could extend that ability to covering Stevie Rae. In other words, I needed to get her, and get out of there.

"Come on out. I have your clothes and some blood and the latest Kenny Chesney CD." I added that last part as a blatant bribe. Stevie Rae had been ridiculously in lurve with Kenny Chesney. No, I don't understand it either.

"The blood!" A voice that might have been Stevie Rae's if she had a really bad cold and had lost every last bit of her mind hissed from the bushes at the rear of the gazebo's base.

I walked around behind the gazebo peeking into the thick (yet well-trimmed) foliage. "Stevie Rae?" Eyes glowing a horrible rust red, she stumbled out of the bushes and lurched toward me. "Give me the blood!" Ohmygod, she looked like an absolutely crazy person. Hurriedly I reached into my bag, jerked out the bag of blood, and handed it to her. "Hang on a sec, I have a pair of scissors in here somewhere and I'll-" With a really disgusting snarl, Stevie Rae tore open the little lip of the bag with her teeth (uh, fangs is more like it), upended the bag, and gulped down the blood. When she'd squeezed the bag dry she dropped it on the ground. She was breathing like she'd just run a race when she finally looked up at me.

"Ain't pretty, is it?"

I smiled and tried my best to ignore how horrified I really was. "Well, my grandma always says that correct grammar and good manners make one more attractive, so you might want to drop the 'ain't' and try saying

'please' next time."

"I need more blood."

"I got you four more packets. They're in the refrigerator at the place you're going to be staying. Do you want to change your clothes here, or wait till we get there and take a shower? It's just down the street."

"What are you talking about? Just give me my clothes and the blood." Her eyes weren't such a bright red, but she still looked mean and mad. She was even thinner and paler than she had been the night before. I drew a deep breath. "This has to stop, Stevie Rae."

"This is how it is with me now. This isn't going to change. I'm not going to change." She pointed to the outline of the crescent moon on her forehead. "It'll never be filled in and I'll always be dead." I stared at the outline of her crescent moon. Was it fading? I thought it definitely looked lighter, or at least less distinct, which couldn't be good. That did shake me up. "You're not dead" was all I could think to say.