Loved (House of Night Other World #1)(39)

Zoey

CRACK! We automatically cringed as an enormous explosive sound echoed throughout the night.

“Oh, shit! Was that a transponder?” Shaunee said.

“Seems like it,” Shaylin said. “And it’s not even icy.”

“Dang, the snow was pretty. Now it’s super cray,” Stevie Rae said.

“Oklahoma weather,” Aphrodite grumbled. “It. Sucks.”

“Hurry, Stark,” I said, trying to peer through the SUV’s tinted window. The snow was falling so fast it had already covered the lines in the road. And now the wind had picked up, causing whiteout conditions.

“Doing my best,” Stark said without taking his eyes from the street.

“He’s a red fledgling! Why is he a red fledgling?” Damien was turned completely around, staring back at Jack, who was still unconscious, trussed like a roped goat, and seat belted between Darius and Rephaim in the rear of the school’s new Escalade. Aphrodite, Stevie Rae, and I were in the second seats. Stark was driving and Damien was in the passenger seat. Shaylin and Shaunee were smashed into the back like groceries.

“No clue,” I told Damien. “Can’t you go faster?” I asked Stark.

He gave me a look in the rearview mirror. “Have you noticed the snow? I’m doing my best, but Utica is already a mess.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I just can’t tell where we are. Um, because of the snow.”

“He’s still unconscious. What did you do to him?” Damien asked for the umpteenth time.

“I already told you. I tazed him,” Aphrodite said. “And it’s a good thing I did. He was either going to eat one of us or get dead. Again.”

“Jack would never hurt any of us!” Damien insisted.

“Honey,” I touched his shoulder gently. “You have to remember that this isn’t your Jack. Your Jack is dead. This Jack is like those things that came out of the bloody tree fountain. I know it’s hard. Of course you’re emotional, but—”

“He recognized me. He was attacking Darius, but he stopped when I called his name,” Damien insisted. “And I’m not being overly emotional.”

Aphrodite snorted.

Damien skewered her with his eyes. “What if it was Darius? What if Darius had been killed last year, and suddenly appeared out of nowhere—changed, but alive? What would you do? Or rather, what wouldn’t you do?”

Aphrodite met Damien’s gaze. “My heart would break. I don’t know how else to answer your questions. Damien, we’re only trying to keep you from getting hurt, or worse.”

“Don’t,” Damien said. “I’m not a child. I don’t need protection. I need answers and I need your trust.”

“But can we trust you not to put yourself in danger?” I spoke gently. When he didn’t answer, I added, “We’re your best friends. We love you. We want Jack back, too. But we’re not as emotionally involved as you are. We see with more than our hearts, and what we see is a kid who is, and isn’t, Jack. Can you please trust that we’re not patronizing you?”

Damien’s shoulders slumped, though he didn’t take his gaze from Jack. “I hear you, Z. I hear all of you. My mind understands, but my heart doesn’t. Not at all.”

“Let us help you,” Shaunee said.

“We’re all here for you,” Stevie Rae added.

“He’s breathing okay,” Rephaim said. “He’ll be fine when he wakes.”

“He smells wrong,” Darius said.

“He smells like I used to,” Stevie Rae said.

“And me,” Stark added. He glanced at Damien. “And you know what that means.”

Damien nodded jerkily. “He’s a red fledgling who has not retained all of his humanity.”

“Or maybe any of it,” Stevie Rae said. When Damien opened his mouth to respond, she lifted a hand, cutting him off. “I know more about this than you do. So does Stark. You gotta listen to us.”

“I know. Forgive me. I’ll listen to you.”

“There’s nothin’ to forgive,” Stevie Rae told him gently. “We get it. We all get it.”

“It’s why he’s not dead,” Aphrodite said.

“You saved him for me?” Damien’s eyes spilled over as silent tears tracked down his cheeks.

“Of course,” Aphrodite said. “Stevie Rae and Stark found their humanity, maybe—”

Jack jolted awake, struggling against the zip ties that kept him tightly bound as he hissed and snarled.

“Jack! Jack, it’s okay! Everything’s going to be okay! It’s me—Damien.”

Jack turned his red-eyed glare on Damien. I saw it. I saw the flash of recognition. Then Jack’s lip curled. “Dead! You’re dead!” His voice was bizarre—a terrible dark twin of Jack’s sweet softness. It shocked us all into silence.

Well, all of us except Aphrodite.

“Who the hell are you?” she asked him.

His eyes turned to her. “Priestess?”

“Well, sure. You can call me Priestess. Who are you?”

“You know me. I am Jack. Why do you cover your Mark?” His words were short, hard, clipped—as if speaking took too much effort. “I must feed!” He twisted his head, obviously checking out Rephaim’s neck.