House of Night 09 - Destined

having a mom had left with me.
    “Hey.” Stark stopped and looked down at me. “You’re not alone.”
    “Are you listening to my thoughts? You know I don’t like it when—”
    He took my shoulders in his hands and gave me a little shake. “It doesn’t take an Oath Bound Warrior’s link to know you’re feeling all by yourself. I don’t know any other kid whose mom is dead, do you?”
    “No. Just me.” I bit my lip to keep from bawling. Again.
    “See, it’s not tough to figure you out.” He kissed me then. Not with a hot, open mouth, I-want-in-your-panties kiss. Stark’s kiss was soft and sweet and reassuring. When his lips left mine he smiled into my eyes. “But, like I said before, you’re gonna come through all of this just fine and not crazy because you’re smart and strong and beautiful and basically covered with awesomesauce.”
    I giggled unexpectedly. “Awesomesauce? Did you seriously just say that?”
    “Hell yes I just said it! You are awesome, Z.”
    “But awesome sauce ?” I giggled again, and felt my stomach begin to unclench. “That’s the dorkiest thing I think I’ve ever heard you say.”
    He clutched his chest like I’d just stabbed him. “Z, that hurts. I was trying to be romantic.”
    “Well, at least you tried,” I said. “Please tell me you didn’t make that word up all by yourself.”
    “Nah.” He gave me his cute, cocky grin. “I heard a bunch of third former girls say I was covered with it when they were watching me shoot my arrows in the arena last hour.”
    “Reallly?” I raised a brow and gave him the stank eye. “Third former girls?”
    The cocky part of his grin faded. “I meant to say unattractive third former girls.”
    “I’m sure that’s exactly what you meant to say.”
    His eyes sparkled. “Jealous?”
    I snorted and lied. “No!”
    “You don’t have to be jealous. Ever. Because you’re not just covered with awesomesauce. You’re what awesomesauce is made of.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Yep.”
    “Promise?”
    “Yep.”
    I leaned against him. “Okay, I believe you, dork.” I rested my head on his shoulder and he put his arm around me. “Can we go home now?”
    “Absolutely. Your short yellow limo is loaded and waiting for you.” He stood up and pulled me to my feet. Hand in hand we walked toward the parking lot. I snuck a sideways glance at him. He looked pleased with himself (and totally hot). Obviously his dorky word game had been part of his plot to pull me out of the pit of depression I’d felt myself falling into.
    Stark would have felt it, too, and not because he was “listening” inappropriately to my thoughts—because he was my Guardian and my Warrior and much, much more.
    I squeezed his hand. “Thanks.”
    He glanced at me, smiled, then lifted my hand to his lips. “No problem. Just wait ’til you hear the word I’m thinking up to describe your boobs. This time it’ll be totally made up. I don’t need the help of any unattractive third formers for this.”
    “No. Just no.”
    “But you might need more cheering up.”
    “Nope. I’m a-okay. Boob talk is so not necessary.”
    “Well, remember that I’m here if you need me,” he said, grinning again. “Ready, willing, and able.”
    “That’s a comfort. Thanks.”
    “All part of my Guardian job description,” he said.
    I lifted both of my brows this time. “Did you actually get a job description?”
    “Kinda. Seoras said, ‘Take care o’ yur queen or I’ll be finishin’ the wee scratchin’ I started on yu,’” he said, sounding freakishly like the ancient Scottish Guardian.
    “Wee?” I shuddered, remembering the bloody knife wounds that had been slashed all across his chest. How could I ever forget? Even if they weren’t still fresh pink scars, despite the healing power of my elements and my blood. “Wee is definitely not how I’d describe them.”
    “Ach, well, lassie. It wasna much more than pussy scratches.”
    I felt my eyes go wide, and then I punched him on his arm. “Pussy!”
    He rubbed his arm, and in his regular voice said, “Z, it means cat in Scotland. Really.”
    “You.” I scowled at him. “Are a guy.”
    For some goofy reason that made him laugh, and he put his arms around me, enfolding me in a giant hug. “Yeah, I’m a guy. Your guy. And I want you to remember that beyond all this stuff,” he paused, pulled back far enough so he could gesture at the House of Night and the short bus that waited a little way from