Chosen

I can sense secret ways. You could get the girl to invite me in—I can't go into a person's home now unless they invite me first. But once I'm in …" Stevie Rae laughed.
    It was her laugh that snapped me out of it. Stevie Rae used to have the best laugh ever. It was happy and young and innocently in love with life. Now what came out of her mouth was a mean, twisted echo of that old joy.
    "The apartment is two houses down. There's blood in the fridge." I turned and started walking quickly down the street.
    "It's not warm and it's not fresh." She sounded pissed, but she was following me again.
    "It's fresh enough, and there's a microwave. You can nuke it."
    She didn't say anything else, and we came to the mansion in just a few minutes. I led her around to the garage apartment, opened the outside door, and stepped in. I was halfway up the stairs when I realized Stevie Rae wasn't behind me. Hurrying back down to the door I saw her standing outside in the darkness. All that was clearly visible of her was the red of her eyes.
    "You have to invite me in," she said.
    "Oh, sorry." What she'd said before hadn't really registered with me, and now I felt a jolt of shock at this further proof of Stevie Rae's soul-deep difference. "Uh, come on in," I said quickly.
    Stevie Rae stepped forward and ran smack into an invisible barrier. She gave a painful yelp, which turned into a snarl. Her eyes glowed up at me. "Guess your plan won't work. I can't get in there."
    "I thought you said you just had to be invited in."
    "By someone who lives at the house. You don't live here."
    Above me, Aphrodite's coldly polite voice (sounding uncomfortably like her mother) called out. "I live here. Come in."
    Stevie Rae stepped over the threshold with no problem at all. She started up the stairs and had almost reached me when Aphrodite's voice must have registered on her. I saw her face change from expressionless to slit-eyed and dangerous.
    "You brought me to her house!" Stevie Rae was talking to me, but staring at Aphrodite.
    "Yes, and why is actually easy to explain." I considered grabbing her in case she started to bolt, and then I remembered how weirdly strong she'd become, so I started to center myself instead, wondering if my affinity with wind could be used to have a breeze slam the door shut before she could escape.
    "How could you explain it! You know I hate Aphrodite." Then she did look at me. "I die and now she's your friend?"
    I was opening my mouth to assure Stevie Rae that Aphrodite and I hadn't exactly buddied up when Aphrodite's haughty voice interrupted me.
    "Get real. Zoey and I are not friends. Your little nerd herd is still intact. The only reason I'm involved at all is because Nyx has a totally bizarre sense of humor. So come in or go the hell away. Like I care…" Her voice trailed off as she stomped back into the apartment.
    "Do you trust me?" I asked Stevie Rae.
    She looked at me for what seemed like a long time before she answered. "Yes."
    "Then come on." I continued up the stairs with Stevie Rae following reluctantly behind.
    Aphrodite was lounging on the couch pretending to watch MTV. When we entered the room she wrinkled up her nose and said, "What is that disgusting smell? It's like something died and—" She looked up and caught sight of Stevie Rae. Her eyes widened. "Never mind." She pointed to the rear of the apartment. "Bathroom's back there."
    I handed Stevie Rae my bag. "Here ya go. We'll talk when you come out."
    "Blood first," Stevie Rae said.
    "Go on back and I'll bring a bag to you."
    Stevie Rae was glaring at Aphrodite, who was staring at the TV. "Bring two," she practically hissed.
    "Fine. I'll bring two."
    Without another word, Stevie Rae left the room. I watched her move down the short hall with a weird, feral stride.
    "Hello! Gross, nasty, and totally disturbing," Aphrodite whispered. "Like you couldn't have warned me?"
    "I tried. You thought you knew everything. Remember?" I whispered back. Then I hurried into the little kitchen and got the bags of blood. "You also said you'd be nice."
    I knocked on the closed bathroom door. Stevie Rae didn't say anything, so I opened it slowly and peeked in. She was holding her jeans, T-shirt, and boots, and was just standing there, in the middle of the very nice bathroom, staring at the clothes. She was partially turned away from me, so I couldn't be sure, but I thought she might have been crying.
    "I brought the blood," I said softly.
    Stevie Rae shook herself, rubbed