"Okay, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"I don't like you being here. I don't remember everything, but I do remember enough to know that the tunnels down there are bad news. I know you said those undead kids have changed, but I still don't like you being down there with them. It doesn't seem safe," he said, looking serious and worried.

"Well, I don't blame you for thinking it's disgusting down there, but it really has changed. The kids are different, too. They have their humanity back. Plus, it's the safest place for us right now."

Heath studied my face for a long time, then he let out a heavy sigh. "You're the one who's the priestess and stuff like that, so you know what you're doing. It just feels weird to me. Are you sure you shouldn't go back to the House of Night? Maybe this fallen angel guy isn't as bad as you think he is."

"No, Heath, he's bad. Just trust me on this one. And the Raven Mockers are seriously dangerous. It's not safe to go back to school. You didn't see him when he rose out of the ground. It's like he can put a spell on fledglings and vampyres. It's really creepy. You already know how powerful Neferet is. Well, I think Kalona is even more powerful than her."

"That is bad," Heath agreed.

"Yeah."

Heath nodded and didn't say anything. He just looked at me. I looked back at him, and somehow got caught by his sweet, brown-eyed gaze. I'd been sitting there in silence for a while, just looking into his eyes, when I started to be intensely aware of him. I could smell Heath. It was the nice, soapy, Heath smell that I'd grown up with. He was standing close enough to me that I could feel the heat from his body.

Slowly, without saying a word, Heath took my hand and turned it over so that he could look at the intricate tattoos that decorated it. He traced the pattern with one of his fingers.

"It's really amazing that this has happened to you," he said softly, still studying my hand. "Sometimes when I'm waking up in the morning I forget that you've been Marked and you're at the House of Night, and the first thing I think is how much I'm looking forward to knowing you're going to be at the game Friday night watching me play. Or that I can't wait to see you before school getting sausage rolls and your brown pop at Daylight Donuts." He looked up from my hand and into my eyes. "And then I wake all the way up and remember that you won't be there for any of those things. That wasn't so bad when we were Imprinted, 'cause I still felt like I had a chance, that I still had a part of you. But now even that's gone."

Heath made my insides tremble. "I'm sorry, Heath. I--I just don't know what else to say. I can't change any of this."

"Yes, you can." Heath lifted my hand and pressed my palm against his black Broken Arrow Tigers football shirt just over his heart. "Can you feel it beating?" he whispered.

I nodded. I could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, if a little fast. It reminded me of the incredibly delicious blood that was pounding through his veins and how hJm loo good it would feel to take just a tiny little bite of him...And now the pounding of my heart was beating in double time along with his. "Last time I saw you, I said that it hurt too much to love you. But I was wrong about that. The truth is it hurts too much not to love you," Heath said.

"Heath, no. We can't." My voice was rough as I tried to talk through the desire I was feeling for him.

"Of course we can, babe. We're good at being together. We've had lots of practice at it." Heath stepped closer to me. He took the pointing finger of my hand from his chest and ran his thumb lightly over my nicely manicured nail. "Is it true that your fingernails are hard enough that they can cut through skin?"

I nodded. I knew I should walk away and back down to the tunnels and the life that waited for me there, but I couldn't. Heath was also a life that waited for me and right or wrong it was almost impossible for me to walk away from him.

Heath took my finger and lifted it so that my nail was pressed lightly against the soft place where his neck curved into his shoulder.

"Cut me, Zo. Drink my blood again." His voice was deep and harsh with desire. "We're already connected. We'll always be connected. So put the Imprint back between us where it belongs."

He pressed my fingernail harder against his neck. We were both breathing heavily now. When my nail broke through his skin, making a small scratch on his neck, I watched, mesmerized, as an exquisitely thin ribbon of scarlet sprang up against the paleness of his skin.