“Forgive you!” he yelled, interrupting me. “How am I supposed to do that? I loved you, and you betrayed me with another guy.”
I shook my head. “It was all lies.”
“You’re admitting that you’ve done nothing but lie to me?” His fingers tightened around my neck.
I gasped. “No! That’s not what I meant. You’re misunderstanding everything. What I had with him was the lie.
He
was the lie. You were right about him all along.”
“Too late,” he said thickly. “You’ve realized this too late.”
“It doesn’t have to be too late. Forgive me and give me another chance. Don’t let us end like this.”
I watched as several emotions played across Erik’s face. I could easily see anger and even hatred, but there was also sadness and maybe, just maybe, what looked like hope waiting quietly way back in the warm summer sky blue part of his eyes.
Then all of a sudden the sadness and hope flattened from his expression. “No! You acted like a slut, so now you get a slut’s reward!”
With a seriously crazy look in his eyes, he seemed to grow even taller until he towered over me. He stepped close, taking one hand from my throat so that he could use that arm to hold me locked against him. His other hand was big enough that it reached almost all the way around my neck. As he squeezed, our bodies were pressed together, and I felt a wild rush of white-hot desire for him. I knew it was wrong. I knew it was weird, but my heart was pounding with more than fear or nerves. I stared into his eyes, feeling Desdemona’s terror along with my own passion, and I knew by the hardness in his body that he was feeling the same things. He was Othello—crazed with jealousy and anger, but he was also Erik—the guy who had been falling in love with me and had been hurt so badly when he’d found me with another guy.
His face was so close to mine that I could feel his breath against my skin. His scent was familiar, and it was that familiarity that decided me. Instead of pulling away from him or continuing with the improv and “fainting” in his arms to pretend I was dead, I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him into me, closing the short distance between our lips.
I kissed him with everything in me. I put all my pain and sorrow and passion and love for him into that kiss, and his mouth opened under mine, meeting me passion for passion, pain for pain, and love for love.
And then the stupid bell rang.
Oh. My. Goddess. The ringing bell was like a fire alarm. Erik broke away from me, and the class burst into cheers and a chorus of Okie “Whoo-Hoo!” and “That was hawt!” I would have fallen over if Erik hadn’t kept a hold of my hand.
“Bow,” he said under his breath to me. “Smile.”
I did as he said, somehow bowing and forcing myself to smile like my world hadn’t just exploded. As the kids filed out, Erik spoke in his teacherly voice again.
“Okay, remember to take a look at
Julius Caesar
. Tomorrow we’re improv-ing from that one. And you guys did a good job today.”
When the last kid had walked out the door, I said, “Erik, we have to talk.”
He dropped my hand like I’d burned him. “You better get going. You don’t want to be late to your next class, too.” Then he turned away from me and walked into the drama office, closing the door with a
slam!
behind him.
I bit my lip hard to keep from bursting into tears as I bolted from the drama room, face burning with humiliation. What the hell had just happened? Well, I knew one thing for sure, even if it was only
one
thing, and that was that Erik Night was still interested in me. Sure, the interest might be focused mostly on wanting to strangle me. But still. At least he wasn’t as all grown and unfeeling and whatever about me as he’d tried to pretend he was. My lips felt sore from the intensity of our kisses. I lifted my hand, running a finger over my bottom lip gently.
I started to walk, not looking at the fledglings that passed by me on their way to class, and didn’t actually even pay attention to where I was until the croaking caw of a raven sounded from the branches of a tree beside the sidewalk.
With a shiver I came to an abrupt halt and peered up into the dark tree. As I watched, the night wavered and folded, like tallow dripping down a black candle. There was something about it—something about whatever it was in the tree that made my knees weak and my stomach hurt.
Since when had I become such a victim—such a scared little girl?
“Who are you!” I yelled at the night. “What do you want?” I straightened my shoulders, deciding that I was sick of this stupid hide-and-seek game. I might be heartbroken about Heath and confused about Stark, and I might not be able to do crap about the mess I’d made with Erik, but I could do something about this. So I was going to march over there to those trees and call wind to shake whatever it was up there watching me down so that I could kick its butt. I was tired of feeling weird and afraid and totally not myself, and—
Before I could take a step off the sidewalk, Darius seemed to materialize beside me. Jeesh, for a great big guy, he could sure move scarily fast and silent.
“Zoey, you must come with me,” he said.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s Aphrodite.”
My stomach clenched so hard, I thought I was going to be sick. “She’s not dying, is she?”
“No, but she needs you. Now.”
He didn’t have to tell me any more. The strain in his face and the deadly seriousness of his voice said it all. She wasn’t dying, so Aphrodite had to be having a vision.
“Okay, I’m coming.” And I started hurrying toward the dorms, trying to keep up with Darius.
The warrior stopped for an instant, giving me a piercing look that was so intense, it made me want to squirm. “Do you trust me?” he asked abruptly.
I nodded.
“Then relax and believe you’re safe with me.”
“Okay.” I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, but I didn’t protest when he grabbed my arm.
“Remember, stay relaxed,” he said.
I opened my mouth to repeat my okay (and maybe roll my eyes at him), when all the breath was pushed from my lungs as Darius exploded forward, somehow taking me with him. It was the most bizarre thing I’d ever experienced, which was saying something, because I’d had a ton of bizarre experiences in the past couple of months. But this was like being on one of those moving sidewalks at the airport, only the “sidewalk” was Darius’s aura or something, and the moving was happening so fast that the world around us was one big blur.
We were in front of the girls’ dorm within a couple of seconds, and I’m not exaggerating.
“Holy crap! How did you do that?” I was panting a little, and as soon as he let go of my arm, I began to frantically brush my hair back out of my face. It was like I’d just taken a supersonic ride on a Harley.
“The Sons of Erebus are mighty warriors with vast skills,” he said cryptically.
“Huh. No kidding?” I was going to say that they also sounded like they should be in a
Lord of the Rings
movie, but I didn’t want to be rude.
“She’s in her room,” he said, kinda pushing me up the stairs to the dorm while he reached ahead of me and opened the door. “She told me to get you right away.”
“Well, you certainly did that,” I said over my shoulder. “Oh, could you find Lenobia and tell her why I’m not in class?”
“Of course, Priestess,” he said. Then he disappeared again. Jeesh. I hurried into the dorm, still feeling kinda frazzled. The main room was empty—everyone (except Aphrodite and me) was in class, so I could rush up the stairs and sprint to Aphrodite’s room without having to answer a bunch of questions from way-too-curious girls. I rapped twice on Aphrodite’s door before opening it.
The only light in the room was coming from one small candle. Aphrodite was sitting on her bed with her knees pulled up to her chest, her elbows resting on them, and her face buried in her hands. Maleficent was curled into a fluffy white ball beside her. The cat looked up at me when I entered the room and growled softly.
“Hey, are you okay?” I asked.
Her body shuddered, and with what was obviously a huge effort, she lifted her head and opened her eyes.
“Oh my god! What happened!” I hurried over to her, turning on the Tiffany’s light that was on her bedside table. When Maleficent stirred and hissed a warning at me, I told the beast, “Try it and I will throw you out the window and call down rain to soak the crap out of you.”
“Maleficent, it’s okay. Zoey’s hateful, but she won’t hurt me,” she said wearily.
The cat growled again, but subsided back into a white ball. I turned my attention to Aphrodite. Her eyes were completely bloodshot—it was so bad that the whites of them were totally red. Not pink and inflamed like she was allergic to pollen and she’d just walked through a field of it. They were
red
. As in blood. As in blood filling her eyes and staining them scarlet.
“This one was really bad.” She sounded awful. Her voice was shaky, and her face was scarily white. “C-can you get me a bottle of Fiji Water from the fridge?”
I hurried over to her mini-fridge and grabbed a bottle of water from it. Then I detoured into her bathroom, where I got one of her gold-embroidered washcloths. (Jeesh, she is so darn rich!) I quickly poured some of the cold spring water onto the washcloth before hurrying back to her.
“Drink some of this, and then close your eyes and put this across your face.”
“I look terrible, don’t I?”
“Yep.”
She took several big gulps from the Fiji bottle like she was dying of thirst, then put the cold, wet washcloth over her eyes and leaned back against her mound of designer pillows with an exhausted sigh. Maleficent watched me with mean, slitted cat eyes, which I ignored.
“Have your eyes ever done that before?”
“You mean hurt like hell?”
I hesitated and decided to just tell her. It wasn’t like Aphrodite avoided mirrors. She’d see for herself soon enough. “I mean turn bright, blood red.”
I saw the little jerk of surprise her body gave, and she started to reach for the washcloth, but her hand stopped and plopped back down on the bed and her shoulders slumped. “No wonder Darius freaked and ran for you like the hounds of f-ing hell were after him.”
“I’m sure it’ll go away. You should probably just keep your eyes closed for a while.”
She sighed dramatically. “It’s really going to piss me off if these damn visions start making me ugly.”
“Aphrodite,” I said, trying to keep my smile out of my voice. “You’re too pretty to ever be ugly. Or at least that’s what you’ve told all of us about a zillion times.”
“You’re right. Even with red eyes, I’m better looking than everyone else. Thanks for reminding me. It just shows how stressed this vision bullshit is making me that I’d even consider worrying about it.”
“Speaking of the vision bullpoopy. You want to fill me in on this one?”
“You know, you
really
wouldn’t melt or anything if you’d cuss a little. My Goddess, bull
poopy
is unbelievably lame.”
“Could you please stay on the subject?”
“Fine. But don’t blame me when people tell you that you sound lame and annoying. Over there on my desk there’s a piece of paper with a poem written on it. Do you see it?”
I went over to her pricey vanity/desk, and sure enough, there was a single sheet of paper lying alone against the glistening wood. I picked it up. “I see it,” I said.
“Good. You’re supposed to read it, and I hope you understand what the hell it means. I never can figure out poetry. It’s all boring bull
shit
.”
She emphasized the
shit
part of the word. I ignored her and focused on the poem. As soon as I got a good look at it, my skin started to tingle and gooseflesh lifted on my arms as if a cold wind had just blown over me.
“Did you write this?”
“Oh, yeah, right. I didn’t even like Dr. Seuss when I was a kid. No damn way I wrote that poem.”
“I didn’t mean did you compose it. I meant did you physically write it down?”
“Are you getting stupider? Yes, Zoey. I wrote down the poem that I saw in my horrid and way-too-painful vision. No, I didn’t compose it. I copied it. Satisfied?”
I looked at her reclining back on her pillows in the middle of her expensive four-poster canopy bed with the gold-embroidered washcloth over her face and one hand petting her awful cat and shook my head in irritation. She looked one hundred gazillion percent diva bitch. “You know, I could smother you with your pillow and no one would miss you. By the time they found you, that hateful cat would have eaten you
and
all the evidence of my crime.”
“Maleficent wouldn’t eat me. She’d eat you if you tried any crap. Plus, Darius would miss me. Just read the damn poem and tell me what it means.”
“You’re Vision Girl. You’re supposed to know what things mean.” I turned my attention back to the poem. What was it about the writing that was making me feel so weird?
“That’s right, I vision. I don’t interpret. I’m just the very attractive oracle. You’re the High Priestess in training, remember? So figure it out.”
“All right—all right. Let me read it out loud. Sometimes it helps make poems understandable when you can hear them.”
“Whatever. Just get to the figuring out part.”
I cleared my throat and started reading.
Ancient one sleeping, waiting to arise
When earth’s power bleeds sacred red
The mark strikes true; Queen Tsi Sgili will devise
He shall be washed from his entombing bed
Through the hand of the dead he is free
Terrible beauty, monstrous sight
Ruled again they shall be
Women shall kneel to his dark might
Kalona’s song sounds sweet
As we slaughter with cold heat
When I was finished I paused, trying to understand what it meant and trying to figure out why it made me feel so freaked out.
“It’s scary, isn’t it?” Aphrodite said. “I mean, it’s definitely not love and roses and happily ever after.”