Hunted

chest.
    “I’ll try to remember that,” he said, tipping the wine bottle back to his lips.
    I sighed, told Stevie Rae, “Get me out of here,” and closed my eyes, clutching my purse and the two indecipherable poems to me.
    “That’s your cue, Erik,” Stevie Rae said.
    Erik was suddenly at my side. “This is going to hurt, and I’m sorry, but you really need to get back to the House of Night.”
    “I know. I’m just gonna close my eyes and try to pretend I’m someplace else, okay?”
    “Sounds like a good idea,” Erik said.
    “I’ll be right here with you, too, Z,” Stevie Rae said.
    “No. Stay with Heath,” I said quickly. “If you let anyone eat him, I’m gonna be majorly pissed. And I mean it.”
    “I’m right here,” Kramisha said, “and I heard that. I ain’t eatin’ your boyfriend. He don’t taste good no more.”
    “That’s not what Zo says!” Heath slurred and lifted his almost empty bottle like he was going to toast to us.
    I ignored both of them and kept my eyes on Stevie Rae.
    “Don’t worry. Heath’ll be fine. I’ll take care of him.” Stevie Rae hugged me and kissed my cheek. “Stay safe,” she said.
    “Remember what I wrote,” I whispered. She nodded.
    “Okay, let’s go,” I told Erik, and squidged my eyes shut tight.
    Erik lifted me as gently as he could, but the pain that sheared through my body was so awful that I couldn’t even scream. I kept my eyes closed and tried to breathe in shallow little pants while Erik hurried down the tunnel with me in his arms, murmuring that everything would be fine . . . we’d be there soon . . .
    When we got to the iron ladder that led up to the basement, Erik said, “I’m sorry, but this is going to hurt like hell. Just hang on, though, Z. It’s almost over.” Then he shifted his grip on me and lifted me to Darius, who was reaching down for me.
    That was when I fainted.
    Sadly, I came to when the freezing rain and an icy wind slapped against my face.
    “Ssh, don’t struggle. You’ll only make it worse,” Darius said. He was holding me in his arms. Erik was walking at his side, watching me with worried eyes as we made our way toward a huge black Hummer that was idling in the parking lot. Jack was standing beside the open door to the wide backseat. I could see Aphrodite in the passenger’s seat and the Twins together with a whole buttload of cats in the far back area. Damien was sitting by the open door.
    “Slide over and help me lay her down here,” Darius said.
    They somehow transferred me to the backseat of the Hummer, pillowing my head on Damien’s lap. Unfortunately I didn’t pass out again. Before Darius closed the door, Erik squeezed my ankle.
    “You have to get well, okay?” Erik said.
    I barely managed a weak “Okay.”
    When Darius closed the door and jumped into the driver’s seat and we took off, I made a conscious decision to avoid the whole Erik-Heath issue until my life was calmer and I could deal with the two of them. I admit that at that moment I left the two of them behind with a guilty sense of relief.
    Most of the ride back was as dark and silent as ice-swept Tulsa had become. Darius had to battle the Hummer to keep it on the sheets of ice that masqueraded as streets, and Aphrodite only commented once in a while on a fallen limb in their way or a turn they should take. Damien, tense and speechless, held me securely on his lap, and the Twins were, for a change, not chattering with each other. I closed my eyes, trying to control the dizziness and the pain. A disturbingly familiar sense of numbness had started to creep slowly over my body again. This time I recognized it, though, and knew how dangerous it would be to give in to the numbness, no matter how restful and compelling it seemed. This time I knew the numbness was a disguise for death. I forced myself to take deeper breaths, even though each one made pain radiate throughout my body.
    Pain was good. If I hurt, it meant I wasn’t dead.
    I opened my eyes and cleared my throat, making myself speak. My blood-wine buzz was gone and all I felt was exhausted and consumed by pain. “We have to remember what we’re walking into. It’s not the old House of Night. It’s not our home,” I said. My voice carried, but I sounded like a hoarse stranger. “Besides keeping our elements close to us, I think the smartest thing we can do is to try to stick as close to the truth as possible whenever we’re questioned about anything.”
    “That’s