Tempted

She’s had to make some pretty unpopular choices, too.
And anyway, Stevie Rae had the sneaking suspicion Zoey wouldn’t be all that surprised by what she had to tell her; she’d probably been on to her for a while now.
    So she’d tell Z about the stuff, which would, at the very least, ensure that where she sent Rephaim wouldn’t turn into fledgling Grand Central anytime soon. He wouldn’t exactly be all alone and totally safe, but he would be out of her hair and no longer her responsibility—or her liability.
    Feeling excited and more than a little giddy that she’d figured out a solution to her massively terrible problem, Stevie Rae centered herself and checked her ever-accurate internal clock. She had just over an hour until sunset. On a normal day she could never get away withwhat she was planning, but today she could feel the weakness of the sun as it tried, but failed, to shine through the thick layer of gray clouds, heavy with the ice that seemed to have settled permanently over Tulsa. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t burn up if she stepped outside. She was also pretty sure that there wouldn’t be any nosy nuns poking around with ice still pelting down and everything outside the abbey being frozen and slick. Same went for the regular fledglings. The red fledglings were the least of her problems, at least from dawn till dusk. They were all still tucked in their cots in the basement. Of course everyone would be getting up in the next hour and, if she knew Z, and she did, they’d be having a big powwow about their next move, which meant Zoey would expect her to be present.
    Stevie Rae picked at her fingernails nervously. It was during the big “what are we going to do now?” meeting that she’d have to clue Zoey, and everyone else, in to her secrets. Man, she was so not looking forward to that meeting.
    To add to the not-looking-forward-to-it part, there was also the fact that Aphrodite had had another vision. Stevie Rae didn’t know what she’d seen, but through their Imprint she’d sensed the turmoil that the vision had caused Aphrodite, turmoil that had risen and then faded, which probably meant Aphrodite was currently sound asleep. That was a good thing ’cause she didn’t want her psychically being aware enough to get any clue as to what Stevie Rae was up to. She could only hope Aphrodite didn’t already know too much.
    “So it’s now or never. Time to cowboy up,” Stevie Rae whispered to herself.
    Not giving herself a chance to chicken out, she went quickly and quietly up the stairs from the root cellar and into the basement proper of the abbey. Sure enough, all the red fledglings were still crashed and totally out. Dallas’s distinct snoring drifted through the dark room, almost making her smile.
    She went to her empty cot and pulled the blanket off it. Then retraced her steps down to the cellar and moved with preternatural confidence in the unrelieved darkness to the mouth of the tunnel. With no hesitation she stepped into it, loving the scent and the feel ofbeing surrounded by the earth. Even though she knew what she was about to do might become the biggest mistake in her life, the earth was still able to touch her and calm her, soothing her frazzled nerves like the familiar embrace of a parent.
    Stevie Rae followed the tunnel a short way to the first gentle curve. There she stopped and put the blanket down. She took three deep breaths, centering herself. When she spoke, her voice was little above a whisper, but it carried such power with it that the air around her literally shivered like heat waves off a blacktop road in the summer.
    “Earth, you are mine, just like I am yours. I call you to me.” The tunnel around Stevie Rae was instantly filled with the scents of a hayfield, and the sound of wind soughing through trees. She could feel grass that wasn’t there beneath her feet. And that wasn’t all Stevie Rae could feel. She felt the earth all around her, and it was that sense of her element—an acknowledgment of earth as an ensouled, sentient entity, that Stevie Rae tapped into.
    She raised her arms and pointed her fingers at the low, dirt ceiling of the tunnel. “I need you to open for me. Please.” The ceiling trembled and dirt showered down, slowly at first, and then, with a sound like an old woman sighing, the earth split open above Stevie Rae.
    Instinct had her jumping back into the protective shadows of the tunnel, but she’d been right about the sun; it was