Burned. Part 25

"I have to come with you," Stevie Rae told him. "I'm gonna open up the earth and bury them, and I'm not doin' that down here. I don't want them where we're gonna live."

"Okay, whatever you think's best," he said, touching her face gently.

"Here. Roll them into these sleepin' bags." Kramisha picked her way through the rubble and bodies in the kitchen, went to the storage closet, and started filling her arms with sleeping bags.

"Thanks, Kramisha," Stevie Rae said, methodically taking the bags from her and unzipping them. A noise pulled her attention back to the doorway, where Venus, Sophie, and Shannoncompton were standing, white-faced. Sophie was making little sobbing noises, but no tears were coming from her eyes. "Go to the Hummer," Stevie Rae told them. "Wait for us there. We're goin' back to school. We won't be staying here tonight. 'Kay?"

The three girls nodded and then, holding hands, they disappeared down the tunnel.

"They's probably gonna need counseling," Kramisha told her.

Stevie Rae looked over the top of a sleeping bag at her. "And you won't?"

"No. I used to be a candy striper at St. John's E.R. I seen a whole lot of crazy there."

Wis.h.i.+ng she'd had some "whole lot of crazy" experience, Stevie Rae pressed her lips together and tried not to think at all as they zipped the dead kids into five different bags and followed the boys, grunting under the weight of their burdens, out through the main depot building. Silently, they let her lead the way to a dark, deserted area beside the train tracks. Stevie Rae knelt and pressed her hands against the earth. "Open, please, and let these kids return to you." The earth quivered, like the twitching skin of an animal, and then split, open forming a deep, narrow creva.s.se. "Go ahead and drop them in," she told the boys, who followed her orders grimly and silently. When the last body had disappeared, Stevie Rae said, "Nyx, I know these kids made some bad choices, but I don't think that was all their fault. They are my fledglings, and as their High Priestess, I ask that you show them kindness and let them know the peace they didn't find here." She waved her hand in front of her, whispering, "Close over them, please." The earth, like the fledgling at her side, did Stevie Rae's bidding.

When she stood up, Stevie Rae felt about a hundred years old. Dallas tried to touch her again, but she started walking back to the depot, saying, "Dallas, would you and Johnny B look around out here and make sure any of those kids who got out through the depot understand that they aren't welcome back? I'll be in the kitchen. Meet me there, 'kay?"

"We're on it, girl," Dallas said. He and Johnny B jogged off.

"The rest of you guys can go to the Hummer," she said. Without a word, the kids headed down the stairs that led to the bas.e.m.e.nt parking lot.

Slowly, Stevie Rae went through the depot and climbed down to the blood-soaked kitchen. Kramisha was still there. She'd found a box of giant trash bags and was cramming rubble into them, muttering to herself. Stevie Rae didn't say anything. She just grabbed another bag and joined her. When they had most of the mess stuffed away in bags, Stevie Rae said, "Okay, you can go on now. I'm gonna do some earth stuff and get rid of this blood."

Kramisha studied the hard-packed dirt floor. "It ain't even soaking in."

"Yeah, I know. I'm gonna fix it."

Kramisha met her gaze. "Hey, you're our High Priestess and all, but you gotta understand that you can't fix everything."

"I think a good High Priestess wants to fix everything," she said.

"I think a good High Priestess don't beat herself up for stuff she can't control."

"You'd make a good High Priestess, Kramisha."

Kramisha snorted. "I got me a job already. Don't try to put no more s.h.i.+t on my plate. I can barely handle this poem stuff as it is."

Stevie Rae smiled, even though her face felt oddly stiff. "You know that's all up to Nyx."

"Yeah, well, me and Nyx gonna have us a talk. I'll see you outside." Still grumbling under her breath, Kramisha headed down the tunnel, leaving Stevie Rae alone.

"Earth, come to me again, please," she said, backing up to the entrance to the kitchen. When she felt the warmth build below and through her, Stevie Rae held out her hands, palms facing the b.l.o.o.d.y floor. "Like everything else living, blood eventually goes back to you. Please soak up the blood of these kids who shouldn't have had to die." Like a giant earthen sponge, the floor of the kitchen became porous, and as Stevie Rae watched, it absorbed the crimson stain. When it was all gone, Stevie Rae felt her knees wobble, and she sat down, hard, on the newly cleaned floor. Then she began to cry.

That was how Dallas found her. Head bowed, face in her hands, sobbing her guilt and her sadness and her heart out. She hadn't heard him come into the kitchen. She only felt his arms go around her as he sat next to her and pulled her into his lap while he smoothed her hair and held her close, rocking her like she was very, very young.

When her sobs turned into hiccups, and the hiccups finally stopped, Stevie Rae wiped her face with her sleeve and then laid her head on his shoulder. "The kids are waiting outside. We need to get goin'," she said, even though she was finding it hard to move.

"No, we can take our time. I sent them all back in the Hummer. I said we'd follow in Z's Bug."

"Even Kramisha?"

"Even Kramisha. But she complained about having to sit on Johnny B's lap."

Stevie Rae surprised herself by laughing. "I'll bet he didn't complain."

"Nah. I think they like each other."

"Ya think?" She leaned back so that she could look into his eyes.

He smiled at her. "Yep, and I'm gettin' kinda good at tellin' when someone likes someone."

"Oh, really? Like who?"

"Like you and me, girl." Dallas bent and kissed her.

It started out as gentle, but Stevie Rae didn't let it stay like that. She couldn't really explain exactly what happened, but whatever it was, she felt like a torch flaming out of control. Maybe it had something to do with having just come too close to death and needing to be touched and loved to feel alive. Or maybe the frustration that had been simmering inside her ever since Rephaim had first spoken to her finally boiled over-and Dallas was the one to be burned by it. Whatever the reason, Stevie Rae was on fire, and she needed Dallas to put the blaze out.

She tugged at his s.h.i.+rt, murmuring "Take it off ..." against his lips. With a grunt, he yanked it over his head. While he was doing that, Stevie Rae pulled off her own T-s.h.i.+rt and started kicking off her boots and unbuckling her belt. She felt his eyes on her and looked up to meet his questioning gaze. "I want to do it with you, Dallas," she said in a rush. "Now."

"Are ya sure?"

She nodded. "Totally. Now."

"Okay, now," he said, reaching for her.

When their bare skins touched, Stevie Rae thought she'd explode. This This was what she needed. Her skin was ultrasensitive, and everywhere Dallas touched, he scalded her, but in a very, very good way because Stevie Rae needed to be touched. She had to be touched and loved and possessed over and over to wipe away everything: Nicole, the dead kids, fear for Zoey, and Rephaim. Always, before anything else, there was Rephaim. was what she needed. Her skin was ultrasensitive, and everywhere Dallas touched, he scalded her, but in a very, very good way because Stevie Rae needed to be touched. She had to be touched and loved and possessed over and over to wipe away everything: Nicole, the dead kids, fear for Zoey, and Rephaim. Always, before anything else, there was Rephaim.

Dallas's touch seared him away. Stevie Rae knew she was still Imprinted with Rephaim-she could never forget that-but just then, with the slick heat of Dallas's sweaty skin smooth and human and real against hers, Rephaim seemed so distant. It was almost as if he was moving away from her ... letting her go ...

"You can bite me if you want to." Dallas's breath was warm against her ear. "Really. It's fine. I want you to."

He was on top of her, and he s.h.i.+fted his weight so that the curve of his neck was pressed against her lips. She kissed his skin, and let her tongue taste him, feeling the pulse there and the ancient rhythm of it. Stevie Rae replaced her tongue with her fingernail, caressing lightly, finding the perfect spot to pierce so that she could drink from him. Dallas moaned, antic.i.p.ating what was to come. She could give him pleasure, and take from him at the same time. It was the way it worked with mates-it was the way things were meant to be. It would be quick, easy, and feel really, really good.

If I drink from him, my Imprint with Rephaim will break. The thought made her hesitate. Stevie Rae stopped, one sharp fingernail tip pressed against Dallas's neck. The thought made her hesitate. Stevie Rae stopped, one sharp fingernail tip pressed against Dallas's neck. No, a High Priestess can have a mate and a consort, No, a High Priestess can have a mate and a consort, she told herself. she told herself.

But it was a lie-at least for Stevie Rae it was. She knew, in the deepest recess of her heart, that her Imprint with Rephaim was something unique. It wouldn't follow the rules that usually bound a vam-pyre to her consort. It was strong-amazingly strong. And maybe it was because of that unusual strength that she couldn't bind herself to any other guy.

If I drink from Dallas, my Imprint with Rephaim will break.

The knowledge was a cold certainty within her.

And then what about the debt she'd agreed to pay? Could she be bound to Rephaim's humanity without being Imprinted with him?

It was a question that wasn't to be answered because at that moment from behind them, as if conjured by her thoughts, Rephaim shouted, "Do not do this to us, Stevie Rae!"

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

Rephaim Rephaim felt her anger and wondered if he would be able to tell whether or not it was directed at him. He purposely focused his thoughts on Stevie Rae, allowing the blood thread that tied them to strengthen. More anger. It poured through their bond, and the force of her ire surprised him though he could feel that she was attempting to hold herself in check.

No. Her fury wasn't aimed at him. Someone else was rousing her-someone else was the focus of her aggression.

He pitied the poor fool. Had he been a lesser being, he would have laughed sardonically and wished the hapless fellow well.

It was time he put Stevie Rae out of his mind.

Rephaim kept flying east, tasting the night with his powerful wings, reveling in his freedom.

He didn't need her now. He was whole. He was strong. He was himself again.

Rephaim didn't need the Red One. She was only the vessel through which he'd been saved. The truth was her reaction to seeing him whole again proved theirs was a tie that needed to be severed.

Rephaim slowed, feeling unexpectedly weighed down by his thoughts. He landed on a gentle rise of land covered by old pin oaks. Standing on the little hillock, he gazed back the way he'd come, considering ...

Why did she reject me?

Had he frightened her? That didn't seem possible. She'd seen him whole when he'd entered the circle. He'd been fully healed when he'd faced Darkness.

For her he'd faced Darkness!

Absently, Rephaim reached back and rubbed at the base of his wings. His skin felt smooth under his fingers. There was no physical wound left. Stevie Rae had completely healed him from Darkness's wrath.

And then she'd turned from him as if she'd suddenly seen him as a monster and not a man.

But I am not a man! Thoughts blasted through Rephaim's mind. Thoughts blasted through Rephaim's mind. She knew what I was! Why turn from me after everything we've been through? She knew what I was! Why turn from me after everything we've been through?

Her behavior utterly baffled him. She'd called for him when she'd been in terror for her life-frightened beyond thinking, Stevie Rae had called for him.

He'd answered her call and gone to her, saved her.

I claimed her as my own.

And then, weeping, she'd run away from him. Yes, he'd seen her tears, but he hadn't known what he'd done to cause them.

With a deep cry of frustration, he threw his hands in the air, as if to rid himself of even the thought of her, and moonlight glinted off his palms. Rephaim stilled. Holding his arms out, he looked at them as if seeing them for the first time. He had a man's arms. She'd held his hands. He'd even cradled her in his arms, though it had only been briefly as they'd escaped immolation on the rooftop. His skin was really no different than hers. His was browner, perhaps, but only a little. And his arms were strong ... well made ...

By all the G.o.ds, what was wrong with him? It didn't matter what his arms looked like. She would never truly be his. How could he even imagine it? It was beyond all thoughts-beyond even the wildest of his dreams.

Unbidden, the words of Darkness echoed through his mind: You are your father's son. Like him, you have chosen to champion a being who can never give you what it is you seek most. You are your father's son. Like him, you have chosen to champion a being who can never give you what it is you seek most.

"Father championed Nyx," Rephaim spoke to the night. "She rejected him. And now I, too, have championed one who rejects me."

Rephaim launched himself into the sky. His wings beat up, up. He wanted to touch the moon-that crescent that symbolized the G.o.ddess who had broken his father's heart and set about the sequence of events that created him. Perhaps if he reached the moon, its G.o.ddess would give him an explanation that would make sense-that would be balm to his heart, because Darkness was correct. What I seek most, Stevie Rae can never give me. because Darkness was correct. What I seek most, Stevie Rae can never give me.

What I seek most is love ...

Rephaim couldn't speak the word aloud, but even the thought burned him. He had been conceived in violence through a mixture of l.u.s.t and fear and hate. Most of all hate, always hate.

His wings stroked the sky, lifting him ever upward.

Love couldn't be possible for him. He shouldn't even want it-shouldn't even think of it.

But he did. Since Stevie Rae had touched his life, Rephaim had begun to think of love.

She'd shown him kindness, and he'd never before known kindness.

She'd been gentle with him, bandaging his wounds and tending his body. He'd never been cared for before the night she'd helped him out of the freezing, b.l.o.o.d.y darkness. Compa.s.sion ... she'd brought compa.s.sion into his life.

And he'd never known laughter before he knew her.

Staring up at the moon, beating the wind with his wings, he thought of her incessant babble and the way her eyes sparkled with humor at him, even when he didn't know what he'd done to amuse her, and he had to choke back unexpected laughter.

Stevie Rae made him laugh.

She hadn't seemed to care that he was the powerful son of an indestructible immortal. Stevie Rae had ordered him around as if he was anyone else in her life-anyone who was normal, mortal, capable of love and laughter and real emotions.

But he did have real emotions! Because Stevie Rae made him feel.

Had that been her plan all along? When she'd freed him from the abbey, she'd said he had a choice to make. Was this what she'd meant-that he could choose a life where laughter and compa.s.sion and perhaps even love truly existed?

Then what about his father? What if Rephaim chose a new life, and Kalona returned to this world?

Perhaps that was something he should worry about when it happened. If it happened.

Before he knew what he was doing, Rephaim slowed. He couldn't touch the moon; it was as impossible as it was for a creature such as he to be loved. And then Rephaim realized he was no longer flying to the east. He'd circled and was retracing his path. Rephaim was returning to Tulsa.

He tried not to think as he flew. He tried to keep his mind utterly clear. He wanted only to feel the night under his wings-to have the cool, sweet air brush his body.

But Stevie Rae intruded again.

Her sadness reached him. Rephaim knew she was crying. He could feel her sobs as if they were in his own body.

He flew faster. What had made her weep? Was she crying because of him again?

Rephaim flew past Gilcrease without hesitating. She wasn't there. He could feel that she was away, farther to the south.

It was as his wings beat the night air that Stevie Rae's sadness changed, s.h.i.+fting into something that at first confused him, and then when Rephaim realized what it was, his blood boiled.

Desire! Stevie Rae was in the arms of someone else!

Rephaim didn't stop to think like a creature of two worlds who was neither man nor beast. He didn't remember that he'd been born from rape and sentenced to know nothing except Darkness and violence and service to his hate-driven father. Rephaim didn't think at all. He only felt felt. If Stevie Rae gave herself to another, he would lose her forever.