Tempted

is over, or until she is dead.”
    “She?” I squeaked. “As in Stevie Rae or Aphrodite?”
    “Either or both. Vampyres can survive events that will kill their consorts.”
    “Well, shit,” Heath murmured.
    “My hands!” Aphrodite sobbed. “They’re burning!”
    I couldn’t stand it anymore and went to her. She was still mostly in Darius’s arms. The warrior was sitting on the chaise, holding her tightly and speaking softly to her. His face was pale and grim. His eyes begged me to help her. I took one of Aphrodite’s hands in mine. It felt abnormally warm. “You’re not burning. Look at me, Aphrodite. It’s not happening to you. It’s happening to Stevie Rae.”
    “Yeah, I know how you feel.” Heath was there beside me, crouching down on one knee and holding Aphrodite’s other hand. “It sucksto be Imprinted and then have something bad happen to your vam-pyre. But it’s
not
you. It feels like it is, but it’s not.”
    “This isn’t about Stevie Rae doing the nasty with someone else,” Aphrodite said, her voice all strangely tremble-y and weak.
    Heath was unfazed. “What happens doesn’t matter. What matters is that it hurts you, and it does. You have to remember that you’re not really her, even though it feels like you’re so attached that you are a part of her.”
    He seemed to get through to Aphrodite, and she stared up at him. “But I didn’t want this.” She hiccupped a little sob. “I didn’t want to be connected to Stevie Rae, and you want the thing with Zoey.”
    Heath gripped her hand, and I saw her hold on to him for all she was worth. Everyone was watching them, but I think I was the only one who felt like an outsider.
    “Want it or not, it’s too much sometimes. You have to learn to save some stuff inside you for yourself. You have to know you don’t really share a soul with her, no matter what the Imprint says.”
    “That’s it!” Aphrodite pulled her hand from mine and covered Heath’s with it. “It feels like I’m sharing my soul. And I can’t stand it.”
    “Yes, you can. Just remember it’s a feeling. It’s not real.”
    I backed away a few steps.
    “Aphrodite, you’re safe. We’re all here with you.” Damien touched her shoulder.
    “Yeah, it’s okay. And your hair still looks really good,” Jack said.
    I heard Aphrodite laugh—a little escaped bubble of normalcy in the middle of unbelievable turmoil. Then she said, “Wait, it’s better all of a sudden.”
    “Good, ’cause you can’t die on us,” Shaunee said.
    “Yeah, we need your shopping expertise,” Erin said. The Twins tried to sound all nonchalant and unaffected, but it was obvious they were worried about Aphrodite.
    “Aphrodite will be fine. She’ll make it through this,” Stark said. He had moved to my side, as always. He was a steady presence there, a voice of calm in the storm.
    “But what’s happening to Stevie Rae?” I whispered to him.
    He put his arm around me and squeezed.
    A beautiful vampyre with bright red hair entered the room, carrying a tray with an icy pitcher, a glass, and several folded, damp towels. She went straight to Erce, who was standing close to the chaise. Erce motioned for her to put the tray on the nearest coffee table. I noticed the new vamp reached into her pocket, brought out a pill bottle, and handed it to Erce before leaving the room as quietly as she’d entered it.
    Erce shook a pill out of the bottle and approached Aphrodite. I’d moved before I realized what I was doing, and found myself grabbing her wrist.
    “What are you giving her?”
    Erce met my gaze. “Something to calm her, to decrease her anxiety.”
    “But what if she loses contact with Stevie Rae because of it?”
    “Would you have two dead friends or one? Choose, High Priestess.”
    I swallowed down my shriek of primal rage. I didn’t want to lose either of my friends! But my mind understood that my best friend was an ocean and half a continent away, and Aphrodite dying with her was absolutely unnecessary. I let loose of Erce’s wrist.
    “Here, child. Take this.” Erce gave Aphrodite the pill and helped Darius hold the glass of ice water to her lips. Aphrodite took the pill and gulped the water like she’d been running a marathon.
    “Goddess, I hope it’s Xanax,” she said tremulously.
    I thought things were getting better. Aphrodite had quit crying and my gang had dispersed themselves to well-upholstered chairs in the room. Except for Heath and Stark. Stark was by