Awakened (House of Night #8)(58)

"I am not truly bound to Neferet?" Kalona's expression shifted from disbelief to shock, and finally to joy.

"I do not believe you are," Rephaim said.

"There is only one way to be certain," Kalona said.

Rephaim nodded. "You must openly disobey her."

"That, my son, will be a pleasure."

As he watched his father throw his arms back and shout joyously to the sky, Rephaim knew that tonight would change everything, and no matter what he had to figure out a way to be sure Stevie Rae was safe.

Chapter Nineteen

Zoey

"You look really tired." I touched Stark's face as if I could smooth away the dark circles under his eyes. "I thought you slept most of the whole flight."

Stark kissed my palm and made what looked to be an attempt at his cocky smile, which failed miserably. "I'm cool. It's just jet lag."

"How can you be jet-lagged before they've even opened the door of the jet?" I pointed my chin in the direction of the vampyre flight attendant who was busy doing whatever it was they did to get a plane open after landing. There was a whooshing sound and the seat belt light made an annoyingly loud ding! ding! sound.

"There, the door's open. I can be jet lagged now," Stark said as he unbuckled his seat belt.

Knowing he was completely full of bullpoopie, I grabbed his wrist and made him stay in his seat.

"You know I can tell something's wrong."

Stark sighed. "I'm just having bad dreams again, that's all. And when I wake up I can't ever really remember them. Somehow that seems like the worst part. It's probably a weird side effect from being in the Otherworld."

"Great. You have PTSD. I knew it. Hey, I think I remember reading in one of the House of Night newsletters that Dragon is one of the school counselors. Maybe you could see him and--"

"No!" Stark interrupted, and then kissed my nose when I frowned at him. "Stop worrying. I'm fine. I don't need to talk to Dragon about my bad dreams. Plus, I don't know what the hell PTSD is, but it sounds enough like an STD to be dodgy."

I couldn't help it, I giggled. "Dodgy? You sound like Seoras."

"Aye, wumman, then it's mindin' me you should be! Get yur arse outta yur chair." I scowled and shook my head. "Do. Not. Call. Me. Woman. Plus, it's freakish how well you can do that accent." He did have a point about getting out of the stupid plane, though, so I stood up and waited for him to grab my carry-on bag. While we were walking up the ramp from the plane I added, "And PTSD stands for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."

"How do you know that?"

"I Googled your symptoms and it came up."

"You did what?" he said so loud a woman wearing an appliqu?d sweatshirt gave us the stank eye.

"Sssh." I wrapped my arm through his so that we could talk without everyone gawking. "Look, you've been acting weird: tired, distracted, grumpy, and you're forgetting things. I Googled. PTSD came up. You probably need counseling." He gave me his you-are-an-insane-woman look. "Z, I love you. I'll guard you and stand beside you for the rest of my life. But you gotta quit Googling health related stuff. Especially health-related stuff about me."

"I just like to be well informed."

"You like to scare the crap out of yourself Googling bizarre health stuff."

"So?"

He grinned at me, and this time he did look cocky and cute. "So you admit it."

"Not necessarily," I said, elbowing him. I didn't get to say anything else because just then I was enveloped in what felt like a mini Oklahoma tornado.

"Zoey! Ohmygoodness, it's so good to see you! I missed you like crazy! Are you okay? It's awful 'bout Jack, ain't it?" Stevie Rae was hugging me and crying and talking all at the same time. "Oh, Stevie Rae, I've missed you, too!" And then I was bawling along with her and we just stood there holding tight to each other like touch could somehow make everything that was crazy and wrong in our world better.

Over Stevie Rae's shoulder I saw Stark standing there, smiling at us. He was pulling out the little travel pack of Kleenex that he kept in his jeans' pocket ever since he'd gotten back from the Otherworld, and I thought that maybe, just maybe, touch added to love might make almost everything better in our world.

"Come on," I said to Stevie Rae as we took the tissues from Stark and the three of us walked arm-in-arm through the giant revolving door that spewed us out into a cold Tulsa night. "Let's go home, and on the way there you can tell me all about the giant, stinking pile of bullpoopie that's waiting for me."

"Language, u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya."

"Grandma!" I unhooked myself from Stevie Rae and Stark and ran into her arms. I hugged her tightly, letting love and the soothing scent of lavender surround me. "Oh, Grandma, I'm so glad you're here!"

"U-we-tsi-a-ge-ya, daughter, let me look at your face." Grandma held me at arm's length, her hands on my shoulders, while she studied my face. "It is true; you are whole and well again." She closed her eyes and squeezed my shoulders, murmuring, "Thank the Great Mother for that." Then we were hugging and laughing at the same time.

"How did you know I'd be here?" I asked when I was finally able to stop hugging her.