Untamed

stage in high school and, finally and more recently, the I've-Imprinted-him-and-want-to-suck-his-blood-and-whatnot stage. The whatnot is a nice way of saying that Imprinting and drinking a human's blood triggers sex receptors in the fledgling and the human's brains, so I had been thinking of doing more with Heath than just sucking his blood. Yes, I know that sounds skanky, but at least I'm being honest with myself.
    So, Heath and I had Imprinted, but then I'd had sex with Loren and Imprinted with him during the Act (it's still weird to think that I'm not a virgin anymore—weird as in disturbing and kinda scary), which broke my Imprint with Heath. Painfully and horribly, if what Loren had told me was true. And I haven't talked to Heath since.
    And Stark thought he was a coward for wanting to avoid pain? Compared to me, I'd definitely say not hardly. I wondered if the connection Stark and I had felt would have lasted through him finding out about all the stuff in my past. I mean, he'd come pretty clean with me, but I hadn't told him crap about myself.
    And there was a lot of crap to tell. Not to mention a lot of loose ends I hadn't tied up.
    I'd been avoiding Heath because I knew I'd hurt him. And, since I was being honest with myself, I had to admit that another part of why I'd been avoiding Heath had a lot to do with being afraid of his reaction to me.
    Heath was nothing if he wasn't dependable. I could depend on the fact that he was crazy about me. I could depend on the fact that he'd been my boyfriend (sometimes whether I wanted him to be or not) since third grade. I could depend on the fact that he'd always been there for me.
    Suddenly I realized that I needed Heath. Tonight I felt bruised and battered and confused, and I needed to know that I hadn't lost all of them . . . that one of them really loved me, even if I didn't deserve it.
    My cell phone was charging on my nightstand. I flipped it open and quickly text-messaged him before I could chicken out.
    How r u?
    I'd start simple, just a little message. When he answered, if he answered, I'd go from there.
    I curled back up with Nala and tried to sleep.
    After what seemed like forever, I checked the time. It was almost 8:30 A.M . Okay, so, Heath was asleep. He was still on winter break, and if the kid didn't have to get up and go to school, he slept until noon. Literally. So he's asleep , I repeated stubbornly to myself.
    That wouldn't have mattered before , my mind lectured me right back. Before he would have texted me back in about a second and begged me to meet him somewhere. Heath would never have slept through a text from me .
    Maybe I should call him.
    And hear him tell me he doesn't ever want to see me ever again? I chewed my lip and felt sick. No. No, I couldn't do that. Not after what had happened tonight. I couldn't bear to hear him say mean things to me. Reading them would be bad enough.
    If he answered.
    Cuddling with Nala, I tried to focus on her purr engine and let it drown out the silence of my cell phone.
    Tomorrow , I told myself as I started to drift off to restless sleep. If I don't hear from Heath tomorrow, I'll call him .
    Right before I fell completely asleep, I swear I heard the creepy sound of a raven right outside my window.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

    I hadn't needed to set my alarm to go off at five o'clock that evening (which is really my morning—remember, a fledgling's day and night are mixed up, as in our school starts at 8 P.M . and ends at 3 A.M .). I'd been lying there wide awake, petting Nala and trying not to think about Stark or Heath or Erik when my alarm beeped at me.
    Groggily I stumbled around my room, pulling on a pair of jeans and a black sweater. I stared at myself in the mirror. Okay, just ugh. I had to get some sleep tonight—the bags under my eyes had bags.
    Nala had just arched her back and hissed at the door when someone pounded on it.
    "Zoey! Would you hurry the hell up?"
    I opened the door to see a disgruntled Aphrodite dressed in a very short (and very cute) black wool skirt, a deep purple pullover, and to-die-for black boots. She was tapping one of those boots in irritation.
    "What?" I said.
    "I know I've told you this before, but you are slow as a fat kid on crutches," she said.
    "Aphrodite, you're mean. I know I've told you that before, too," I said, trying to blink the grogginess from my eyes and somehow think it from my mind. "And I'm not slow, I'm ready," I finally added.
    "No, you're not. Your Mark isn't even