Hunted (House of Night #5)(60)

Kalona's voice was so calm, so matter of fact, that I didn't really get the meaning of his words until, like a cobra, he struck. The waelf from*W thrrior only had time to begin to take a defensive stance when Kalona whirled, pulled the knife from Rephaim's chest, and in one motion raked the blade down the side of Darius's face.

Darius staggered under the blow, and then fell as blood sprayed all around me, a heavy, scarlet rain in the little room. I screamed and tried to go to him, but Kalona's frigid hand closed around my wrist, jerking me back against him. I looked up at the immortal, willing the anger and horror I felt to burn through his awful appeal.

And I wasn't drawn to him! His spell didn't work on me! Young and inhumanly beautiful as he was, I still saw him as a dangerous enemy. He must have seen the triumph in my eyes because suddenly his warlike expression changed to a slow, knowing smile. He bent and whispered for my ears alone, "Remember, my little A-ya, the warrior can protect you from all others except me. Not even the power of your elements can keep me from claiming what will eventually be mine again." Then he pressed his lips against mine and the wild taste of him was like a blizzard rushing through my body, numbing my resistance and freezing my soul with a forbidden desire that utterly overwhelmed me. His kiss made me forget everything and everyone--Stark, Darius, and even Erik and Heath were frozen from my mind.

He released me and my legs would not hold me up. I crumpled to the floor as he strode from the room, laughing, with his wounded favorite son hobbling behind him.

Chapter Nineteen

I was sobbing as I crawled over to Darius. I had just reached him when I heard a terrible sound coming from the doorway. I looked up to see Stark. He still grasped his bow in one hand. The other was holding on to the doorpost so tight that his knuckles had turned white, and I swear I could see his fingers making indentations in the wood. His eyes were blazing red and he was bent slightly over, as if his stomach was causing him pain.

"Stark? What is it?" I wiped the back of my hand across my eyes, trying to clear the tears from my vision.

"The blood...can't bear it...have to..." He spoke in broken starts and stops and then, as if against his will, he took a staggering step into the room.

On the floor beside me Darius got to his knees. He grabbed the knife from the floor where Kalona had dropped it and faced Stark. "You should know I only share my blood with those I have invited to taste of me," Darius's voice was steady and strong. Had I not been looking at him I would never have known that a river of blood was gushing down his face from a terrible knife slash. "And I have offered you no such invitation, boy. Back away before what happened here gets any worse."

There was a dark struggle going on within Stark that was reflected in his entire body. From the glowing red of his heated eyes to the feral grimace of his lips to the tightrope tension that radiated from him, he looked like he was on the brink of an explosion.

But here's the deal: I'd had just about enough. Saying my reaction to Kalona's kiss had freaked me out was the new understatement of the year. My body still ached. My head was woozy. I was so weak I didn't think I'd win an arm-wrestling contest with, well, Jack. Now Darius was hurt, and I didn't have a clue as e sp do Fto how badly. Seriously, you could stick a fork in me and call me so done with all this stress.

"Stark, just get the hell out of here!" I rounded on him, glad my voice sounded lots stronger than I felt. "I don't want to zap the crap outta you with fire, but if you take one more step into this room, I swear I'm going to burn your butt up."

That got through to him. Stark's red eyes locked on me. He looked pissed and dangerous. There was a darkness that surrounded him like an aura, making the red in his eyes blaze. I stood, glad that the sheet was staying tucked around my body, and lifted my arms, holding them up and ready. "Do not push me right now. I promise you won't like it if I lose my temper."

Stark blinked a couple of times at me, like he was trying to clear his vision. The scarlet of his eyes faded, the darkness in the air around him dissipated, and he wiped a shaky hand across his face. "Zoey, I--" he began, sounding almost normal. Darius shifted in his defensive stance, taking a step closer to me. Stark snarled at him--actually snarled--like he was more animal than human, spun around, and ran out of the room.

I somehow managed to stagger to the door and slam it closed, then dragged a chair from near the bedside and propped it under the door handle, just as I'd seen people do in the movies, before I went back to Darius.

"I am glad you are on my side, Priestess," he said.

"Yeah, that's me. I'm fierce." I tried to pretend I wasn't close to passing out by sounding like Christian from Project Runway. I was pretty sure Darius didn't know Project Runway from a science project, but it did make him chuckle as we helped each other over to the end of the bed, where he sat heavily and I stood beside him, concentrating on not swaying like I was drunk. Which, sadly, I wasn't anymore.

"There should be first aid supplies in the cabinet over there." He motioned to the long stainless steel cabinet that stretched halfway across the far wall. There was also a sink built into it and a bunch of scary hospital-looking items (they were sharp and very stainless steel) stored neatly in trays and whatnot beside the sink.

Wearily, I ignored the sharp things and started pulling open drawers and cabinets, which was when I noticed my hands were shaking like crazy.