Tempted

through the maze of rubble and metal grates spread haphazardly around the abandoned depot grounds to the stone stairs that led from the parking lot at railroad track level up to the street level of what used to be a thriving railway station. She had to be careful as she rushed up the stairs. It had stopped sleeting, and the sun had actually come out the day before, but night had brought falling temperatures and almost everything that had thawed had refrozen.
    She reached the circle drive and the big covered entryway that used to keep Oklahoma weather from train passengers. She looked up and up and up.
    The building was just creepy-looking. That’s all there was to it. Z liked to describe it as something out of Gotham City. Stevie Rae thought it was more like
Blade Runner
meets
Amityville Horror.
Not that she didn’t heart the tunnels under the building, but there was something about the stone exterior with its weird mixture of art deco and machine design that creeped her out.
    Of course, some of her freaky feeling could have been because thesky was already starting to shift from black to gray with the coming dawn. In retrospect, that should have stopped her. She should have turned around, gone back down the stairs, climbed into the car she’d borrowed from the school, and driven to the House of Night.
    Instead, she’d stepped squarely into her fate and, as Z would have said, then the poopie hit the fan.
    She knew there were circular stairs inside the main part of the depot that led up to each tower room—she’d done lots of exploring during the weeks she’d lived there. But no dang way was she going back inside that building and taking a chance that some random red fledgling wouldn’t be tucked into bed and would see her—and question her—and find out the truth.
    Plan B led her to a tree that at one time had obviously been decorative, but had long since overgrown its concrete circle so that its roots had broken through the ground below in the parking lot, exposing lots of frozen earth and allowing it to grow taller than it should have. Without its leaves, Stevie Rae didn’t have a clue what kind of tree it was, other than the kind that was tall enough that its branches brushed the roof of the depot, near the first of the two towers that faced out from the roof on the front side of the building, and that was tall enough for her.
    Moving quickly, Stevie Rae went over to the tree and jumped to grab the branch closest to her head. She scrambled up the slick, bare bough, shimmying along it until she got to the main part of the tree. From there she made her way up and up, silently thanking Nyx for her red vampyre enhanced strength ’cause if she’d been a normal fledgling, or maybe even vamp, she’d never have been able to make the treacherous climb.
    When she was as high up as she could go, Stevie Rae gathered herself and then jumped onto the roof of the building. She didn’t waste time looking in the first of the towers. Pig boy had said Rephaim was in the one farthest from the tree. She jogged across the roof to the other end of the building and then climbed the short distance up so she could look down into the circular space.
    He was there. Crumpled in the corner of the tower, Rephaim lay unmoving and bleeding.
    Without hesitation, Stevie Rae threw her legs over the stone ridge and then dropped the four feet or so into the room.
    He’d been curled up in a ball, his good arm cradling his bad one in its dirty sling. Down the outside of his arm she could see that someone had slashed his skin, which is obviously where Kurtis had fed from him, though he hadn’t bothered to close the cut, and the odd, off smell of his inhuman blood filled the little chamber. The bandage that had immobilized his wing had come loose and it was a torn pile of bloody towels half draping his body. His eyes were closed.
    “Rephaim, hey, can you hear me?”
    At the sound of her voice his eyes instantly opened. “No!” he said, struggling to sit up. “Get out of here. They’re going to trap—”
    Then there had been a terrible pain in the back of her head, and she remembered falling into blackness.

    “Stevie Rae, you have to wake up. You have to move.”
    She finally felt the hand that was shaking her shoulder and recognized Rephaim’s voice. Carefully she opened her eyes, and the world didn’t pitch and roll, though she could feel her heartbeat throbbing in her head.
    “Rephaim,” she rasped. “What