Hunted

freaked me out. So I blurted, “Like the lanterns suddenly going out.”
    He shrugged and shook his head. “Nope, but that’s really not all that weird. I’m sure the red fledglings have to refill their oil pretty often, and I would bet that recent events have messed up their schedule for that.”
    “Yeah, that makes sense.” And it did. So, just for that little moment I let myself feel a sense of relief that even then I knew deep down wasn’t real, and grinned at Erik. He smiled back at me and there we were, grinning at each other. I reminded myself that Erik really was a great boyfriend. I’d been glad that he and I were back together. I was still glad we were back together, wasn’t I? Couldn’t I just stay glad and not let the good things we had between us be messed up because I was freaked that he was going to want more from me than I could give him right now?
    Farther to the back of my mind I shoved the memory of the kiss Stark and I had shared and Kalona’s nightmare visit and how he’d made me feel things no guy had ever come close to making me feel.
    I stood up so abruptly I almost knocked the chair over. “I gotta call Sister Mary Angela!”
    Erik gave me an odd look, but only said, “Okay, walk a little way over there, but don’t get too close to the door. If anyone’s hanging around outside I don’t want them to hear you.”
    I nodded and gave him what I hoped didn’t look like a guilty smile. Then I walked a little ways through the basement, which, I noticed, also wasn’t as disgusting now as it had been last time I’d been down here. Stevie Rae and her group had obviously done a lot of cleaning and throwing away of the street people’s stuff that had been littering the place before. And, happily, it didn’t smell like urine anymore, which was a definite improvement.
    I pressed Sister Mary Angela’s number and mentally crossed my fingers while it said it was calling . . . calling . . . and then it actually rang, once, twice, three times . . . My stomach was just starting to hurt when she answered. The connection was really crappy, but at least I could understand her.
    “Oh, Zoey! I’m so glad you called,” said Sister Mary Angela.
    “Sister, are you okay? Is Grandma?”
    “She’s fine . . . all fine. We’re . . . ” She was definitely breaking up now.
    “Sister, I can’t hear you very well. Where are you? Is Grandma conscious?”
    “Grand . . . is conscious. We’re under the abbey, but . . . ” There was static and then suddenly I could hear her clearly. “Are you influencing the weather, Zoey?”
    “Me? No! What about Grandma? Are you guys safe in the abbey basement?”
    “ . . . fine. Not to worry, we . . . ”
    And the line went dead.
    “Hell! This connection sucks so much!” I paced a short path of frustration while I tried to call her back. Nothing. I had service, but the screen kept saying that it was a lost call. I tried several more times before I saw that, not only was I not getting her back, but my phone was getting ready to die. “Hell!” I repeated.
    “What did she say?” Erik had come up behind me.
    “Not much, ’cause I lost the connection and can’t get it back. But I did manage to hear her say that she’s okay and Grandma’s okay. I even think she’s finally conscious.”
    “That’s really good news! Don’t worry; everything’s going to be fine. The nuns have your grandma safe underground, right?”
    I nodded, feeling stupidly close to tears that were really more because of frustration than fear for Grandma. I completely trusted Sister Mary Angela, so if she said Grandma was okay, then I believed her. “It’s hard not knowing what’s going on. Not just with Grandma, but with everything out there.” I jerked my thumb up at the outside world.
    Erik stepped up beside me and his warm hand closed over mine. He turned me so that I was facing him, and then with his thumb he gently traced the new tattoos that covered my palm. “Hey, we’ll get through this. Nyx is at work here, remember? Just look at your hands to see proof of her favor. Yeah, our group is small, but we’re strong and we know we’re on the right side.”
    Just then my phone made the little chime that said I had a text message. “Oh, good. Maybe this is Sister Mary Angela.” I flipped open the phone and stared at the message, not really getting it.

    All fledglings and vampyres are to return
    to the House of Night immediately.

    “What the hell?” I said, still