Chosen

voice was kind and understanding, and I wished with everything inside me that she was still one of the good guys.
    "I don't want to be alone," I said.
    "Then you'll come with me," she said. "The warriors will protect us. You have nothing to fear now, Zoey."
    I nodded and got out of the SUV. The two warriors, Dragon and Loren, flanked Neferet and me. It seemed to take only a couple of seconds to cross the grassy area and get within smelling—and seeing—distance of the crucified body. I felt my knees go all shaky as the fresh horror of what had been done to her registered on my already shocked senses.
    "Oh, gracious Goddess!" Neferet gasped. She moved forward slowly until she reached the terrible staked head. I watched as she stroked Professor Nolan's hair back and then rested her hand on the dead woman's forehead. "Find peace, my friend. Rest in the green meadows of our Goddess. It is there we will, one day, meet again."
    Just as I felt my knees give way a strong hand was under my elbow holding me steady.
    "You're okay. You'll make it through this."
    I looked up at Loren and had to blink hard to focus on him. He kept his hold on me, but pulled from his pocket one of those old-fashioned linen handkerchiefs. It was only then that I noticed that I was crying.
    "Loren, take Zoey back to the dorm. There's nothing more she can do here. As soon as we're properly protected, I'm going to call the human police," Neferet said, and turned her sharp gaze on Dragon. "Get the other warriors back here now." Dragon flipped open his cell phone and started making calls. Then Neferet turned her attention to me. "I know this was a terrible thing for you to see, but I'm proud that you managed to stay strong through it."
    I couldn't make my voice work, so I just nodded.
    "Let's get you home, Zoey," Loren murmured.
    As Loren helped me back to the SUV a cold rain started to fall softly all around us. I looked back over my shoulder and saw that it was washing the blood from Professor Nolan's body as if the Goddess herself was weeping her loss.
    All the way back to the school Loren kept talking to me. I don't really remember what he was saying. I just know that he was telling me everything was going to be okay in that beautiful, rich voice of his. I could feel it wrapping around me and trying to keep me warm. He parked and led me through the school, still keeping a strong hold on my arm. When he took a turn that brought us to the dining hall instead of the dorm I looked at him questioningly.
    "You need something to drink and something to eat. Then you need sleep. I'm going to make sure you get the first two before the second." He paused and smiled sadly. "Even though you look ready to pass out on your feet."
    "I'm not really hungry," I said.
    "I know, but eating will make you feel better." His hand slid down from my elbow to hold mine. "Let me cook for you, Zoey."
    I let him pull me into the kitchen. His hand was warm and strong, and I could feel it starting to unthaw the frozen numbness that had settled into me.
    "Can you cook?" I asked him, grabbing at any subject that wasn't death and horror.
    "Yes, but not well," he grinned, looking like a handsome little boy.
    "That doesn't sound promising," I said. I felt my face smile, but it seemed stiff and awkward, like I'd forgotten how.
    "Don't worry, I'll be gentle with you." He pulled a stool out from the corner of the room and put it next to the long butcher block counter that sat in the middle of the enormous kitchen. "Sit," he ordered.
    I did as he said, relieved I didn't have to stand up anymore. He turned to the cabinets and started pulling things from them and one of the walk-in refrigerators (not that one they kept the blood in, though).
    "Here, drink this. Slowly."
    I blinked in surprise at the large goblet of red wine. "I don't really like—"
    "You'll like this wine." His dark eyes held mine. "Trust me and drink it."
    I did as he told me. The taste exploded on my tongue, sending sparks of heat throughout my body. "It has blood in it!" I gasped.
    "It does." He was making a sandwich and he didn't even look up at me. "It's how vampyres drink their wine—laced with blood." He did glance up to meet my eyes then. "If the taste is disagreeable to you, I'll get you something else to drink."
    "No, it's fine. I'll drink it like this." I took another sip, forcing myself not to chug it all down in one huge swallow.
    "I had a feeling you wouldn't have a problem with it."
    My eyes shot back to