House of Night 09 - Destined

I continued, clinging to Stark.
    “Actually, she’s gonna be super pissed and mean when she comes to ’cause she really hates it when this happens to her in public,” Stevie Rae said. She’d climbed halfway up the bus stairs. I noticed her eyes were kinda extra wide, but her voice also sounded totally calm and cool.
    “Yeah, Stevie Rae’s right,” I said. “So there’s no need to make a big deal out of this—now or after she comes to.” I paused and, feeling like a moron, added, “Okay, I don’t mean her visions aren’t a big deal. I just mean she won’t want to hear a bunch of ‘hey, are you okays’ from everyone.”
    “I’ll go ahead and order the pizzas. Do ya think Aphrodite’ll be hungry later?” Stevie Rae asked.
    I thought about the last time she’d had a vision and how awful she’d felt afterward. I wanted to say what Aphrodite would really want would be a Xanax and a bottle of wine, but thought that would probably set a bad example. So I settled for, “Uh, why don’t you get her one and put it in the fridge. We can nuke it later if she’s hungry. Right now I’ll just go check on her. She’ll want water and quiet for a while.”
    “Okie dokie.” Stevie Rae smiled and, acting absolutely normal, told the rest of the bus, “I’m takin’ pizza orders from up here. Cell phone reception is crap in the tunnels. So before y’all scatter for downstairs let me know what you want, and ya better hang around so that I get it right. Speakin’ of, Kramisha, could you write down what everyone wants for me, please? That’d help.” She glanced at Shaunee, who was looking especially lost, and added, “Hey, do you think we could use your card for the order this time? Z and I’ll be sure you get paid back.”
    Shaunee frowned. “Swear? Last time I totally got stuck with the bill from Queenies. Those Ultimate Egg Salad Sandwiches are awesome, but not a couple hundred dollars’ worth of awesome.”
    “I swear.” Stevie Rae narrowed her eyes, skewering the rest of the bus with the stank eye. “Y’all will pay her back.”
    “Yeah, okay, fine,” chorused from the back of the bus.
    I could have kissed my BFF. She’d totally distracted everyone from Aphrodite’s horrendous and unattractive vision, and she’d made sure they’d be up here deciding on pizza and payback versus down in the tunnels gawking and talking about Aphrodite.
    Meanwhile I pulled Stark from the bus. “We’ll take a large combo,” he said as we passed Stevie Rae.
    “Pizza? Really?” I whispered to him, feeling like he’d just said, “Let them eat cake!” or whatever super inconsiderate thing that woman said to the masses when really important stuff was going on back in the day.
    “I thought you wanted to act normal,” he whispered back.
    I sighed. Well, he was right. So, I told Stevie Rae, “With extra cheese and olives.” Then, under my breath I added, “And thanks.”
    “I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready to talk,” she said just as quietly, then she very loudly and very normally starting asking, “So, how many pepperonis?”
    “Let’s go through the depot so we can grab some water bottles from the kitchen on the way to Aphrodite’s room,” I told Stark when he automatically headed for the basement entrance to the tunnels. He changed direction, but still I explained (probably more to hear my calm-sounding voice than anything), “She’ll be thirsty. We’ll also need to grab some washcloths. I’ll soak them in water and put them over her eyes.”
    “Do they always bleed like that?”
    “Yeah, ever since she lost her Mark. Last time she had a vision she told me the pain and the blood keep getting worse and worse.” I glanced at Stark. “It looked bad, didn’t it?”
    “She’ll be okay. Darius is with her. He won’t let anything happen to her.” He squeezed my hand before letting me climb down ahead of him through the old ticket booth entrance to the tunnels.
    “I don’t think even her Warrior can protect her against this kind of stuff.”
    He smiled at me. “I figured out a way to protect you in the Otherworld. I think Darius can handle some visions and a little blood.”
    I didn’t say anything else as we hurried through the kitchen, grabbing water and washcloths.
    I wanted Stark to be right. I really, really wanted Stark to be right, but I had a bad feeling, and I hated it when that happened. It always meant something was going to go horribly, awfully, terribly