Untamed

stupidly, not able to wrap my mind around what the hell she was saying. Stark had just died in my arms and she wanted me to go to a spa?
    "Didn't you know I redid my bathroom shower?"
    "Maybe Z wants to shower in her own room," Shaunee said.
    "Yeah, maybe she wants her own stuff around her," Erin said.
    "Yeah, well, maybe she doesn't want to remember that the last time she showered off blood, alone, in her own room, was after her best friend died in her arms," Aphrodite said. Then she added smugly, "Besides, I know for damn sure she doesn't have a step-in marble Vichy shower in her room, because mine is the only one on campus."
    "Vichy shower?" I said, feeling a little like I was walking through a bad dream.
    Shaunee sighed. "It's like a little slice of heaven."
    Erin gave Aphrodite an appraising look. "You have one in your bathroom?"
    "Part of the perks of being filthy rich and very, very spoiled," Aphrodite said.
    "Uh, Z," Erin said slowly, moving her gaze from Aphrodite to me. "Maybe you should go to her spa. A Vichy shower is excellent for relieving stress."
    Shaunee wiped her eyes and sniffled the last of her tears. "And we all know you got you some stress to deal with tonight."
    "Okay, yeah. I'll go to Aphrodite's room to clean up." I moved woodenly out the door and walked between Aphrodite and the Twins.
    I felt Stark's kiss on my lips all the way back to the dorm as the surreal croaking of ravens filled the night.
    A Vichy shower turned out to be four big, fat shower heads (two from the ceiling and two from the sides of Aphrodite's marble shower) that poured a gazillion tons of soft, hot water all over my body all at the same time. I stood there and let it run down my body and wash Stark's blood from me. I watched the water turn from red to pink to clear, and something about the absence of his blood made me start to cry again.
    It seemed ridiculous because I'd only known him for what was really only an instant in time, but I felt Stark's absence like it was a hole in my heart. How could that be? How could I miss him so much when I hadn't really known him? Or maybe I had known him—maybe there's something that happens between some people at a level that goes beyond time measurements and what society thinks is proper. Maybe what had happened between Stark and me in those few minutes in the field house had been enough to have our souls recognize each other.
    Soul mates? Was that even possible?
    When my head ached from crying and my tears finally ran out, I got wearily out of the shower. Aphrodite had a big white bathrobe hung up on the bathroom door, which I slipped on before I went out into her ritzy room. Not surprisingly, the Twins had left.
    "Here, drink this." Aphrodite handed me a glass of red wine.
    I shook my head. "Thanks, but I don't really like alcohol."
    "Just drink it. It's more than just wine."
    "Oh . . ." I took it and sipped gingerly, like I thought it might explode. And it did—all inside my body. "There's blood in it." I didn't sound accusing. She knew that I'd already known what the "more than wine" comment meant.
    "It'll help you feel better," Aphrodite said. "So will this." On the end table beside the chaise longue she pointed me to was a Styrofoam to-go box opened up to show a big greasy Goldie's cheeseburger and a larger order of fries with a bottle of brown pop—fully caffeinated and sugared, waiting next to it.
    I gulped the last of the blood spiked wine and, surprising myself with how starving I felt, started wolfing down the burger. "How did you know I love Goldie's?"
    "Everyone loves Goldie's burgers. They're terrible for you, so I figured you needed one."
    "Thanks," I said through a full mouth.
    Aphrodite grimaced at me, delicately plucked a fry off my plate, and then plopped down on her bed. She let me eat for a while and then, in a voice that was uncharacteristically hesitant, she asked, "So, you kissed him before he died?"
    I couldn't look at her, and the burger suddenly tasted like cardboard. "Yeah, I kissed him."
    "Are you okay?"
    "No," I said softly. "Something happened between us and . . ." My voice trailed away as I couldn't find the words.
    "What are you going to do about him?"
    I did look up at her then. "He's dead. There's nothing—" I stopped. How could I have forgotten? Of course Stark's being dead wasn't necessarily the end of things, not at this House of Night, not lately. And then I remembered the rest of it. "I told him," I said.
    "About?"
    "That it might not be