Tempted

part. In their blood they’re part immortal and part human.
Human,
Zoey. I feel sorry for the human part, and think it deserves more than being stuck in the trash.”
    There was something about the look in her eye—about the sound of her voice—that really bothered me. I answered her with the first thing that came into my mind. “It takes more than an accident of blood to make me feel sorry for someone.”
    Stevie Rae’s eyes flashed and her body jerked, almost like I’d slapped her. “I guess that’s one difference between you and me.”
    All of a sudden I realized why Stevie Rae was able to feel bad for the Raven Mockers. In a weird way, she must be seeing herself in them. She’d died and then, due to what I supposed she could call an “accident” she’d resurrected
without
most of her humanity. Then, due to another “accident,” she’d gotten her humanity back. Looking at it that way, I guess she felt sorry for them because she knew what it was like to be part monster, part human.
    “Hey,” I said softly, wishing she and I were back at the House ofNight and could talk as easily as we used to. “There’s a big difference between an accident causing something to be born messed up, and something terrible that happens
after
someone’s born. On one hand you’re made the way you are—on the other, something tried to change you into someone you’re not.”
    “Huh?” Heath said.
    “I believe what Zoey is trying to say is that she understands why Stevie Rae might empathize with the dead Raven Mockers, even when she really has nothing in common with them,” said Sister Mary Angela. “And Zoey would be right. Those creatures are dark beings, and even though I, too, am disconcerted by death, I understand that they needed to die.”
    Stevie Rae’s gaze left mine. “You’re both wrong. That’s not what I’m thinkin’, but I’m not gonna talk about it anymore.” She started down the hall, walking quickly away from us.
    “Stevie Rae?” I called after her.
    She didn’t even look back at me. “I’m gonna find Erik, make sure everything’s really okay out there, and then send him inside. I’ll talk to you later.” She turned and disappeared through a door I assumed led to the outside, slamming it behind her.
    “That’s not usually how she acts,” Dallas said.
    “I’ll pray for her,” Sister Mary Angela whispered.
    “Don’t worry,” Heath said. “She’ll be back inside pretty soon. The sun’s getting ready to come up.”
    I swiped my hand across my face. What I should’ve done was follow Stevie Rae outside, corner her, and make her tell me exactly what was going on. But I couldn’t deal with one more problem just then. I hadn’t even dealt with my A-ya memory. I could feel it sitting there in the back of my mind like a guilty secret.
    “Zo, are you okay? You look like you need some sleep. We all do,” Heath said, yawning.
    I blinked and gave him a weary smile. “Yeah, that’s true. I’ll go to bed. First I want to check on Stark real quick, though.”
    “
Very
quickly,” Sister Mary Angela said.
    I nodded. Without looking at Heath, I said, “Okay, well, um. I’ll see you guys in about eight hours or so.”
    “Good night, child.” Sister Mary Angela hugged me and whispered, “And may our Lady bless and watch over you.”
    “Thanks, Sister,” I whispered back, hugging her tightly.
    When I let her go, Heath surprised me by taking my hand. I gave him a question-mark look.
    “I’ll walk you to Stark’s room,” he said.
    Feeling defeated, I shrugged, and he and I started down the hall, hand in hand. We didn’t say anything; we just walked. Heath’s hand was warm and familiar in mine and I fell into step easily beside him. I was just starting to let myself relax when Heath cleared his throat.
    “Hey, uh, I want to say sorry about that crap outside earlier with Erik and me. It was stupid. I shouldn’t let him get to me,” Heath said.
    “You’re right—you shouldn’t, but he can be annoying,” I said.
    Heath grinned. “Tell me about it. You’re gonna dump him pretty soon, aren’t you?”
    “Heath, I am so not going to talk about Erik with you.”
    His grin just got bigger. I rolled my eyes.
    “You can’t fool me. I know you too well. You don’t go for bossy guys.”
    “Just shut up and walk,” I said, but I squeezed his hand, and he squeezed mine back. He was right—I didn’t like bossy guys, and he did know me very, very well.
    We’d come to a