Burned: A House of Night Novel Read online

  “I dunno. Is it workin’?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Good.”

  They both laughed. She bumped him with her hip. “Let’s go over there to the big oak. That looks like a good place.”

  “Whatever you say, girl.”

  They made their way slowly to the center of the park, walking around shattered tree limbs and sloughing through the cold, wet muck that was left from the storm, trying not to slip on the patches of ice that had begun to refreeze in the chill of the night. She’d been right to let Dallas come with her. Maybe part of her confusion about Rephaim had happened because she’d gotten kinda isolated from her friends and was focusing too hard on the weirdness of their Imprint. Heck, the Imprint with Aphrodite had seemed totally bizarre at first, too. Maybe she just needed some time—and space—to deal with the newness of it.

  “Hey, check it out.” Dallas pulled her attention back to him. He was pointing at the ground around the old oak. “It’s like the tree made a circle for you.”

  “That’s cool!” she said. And it was! The solid tree had weathered the storm well. The only branches it had lost were a smattering of limb tips. They’d fallen onto the grass, forming a perfect circle completely around the tree.

  Dallas hesitated at the edge of the circumference. “I’m gonna stay out here, okay? So it really can be like this is a circle cast especially for you, and I haven’t broken it,” he said.

  Stevie Rae looked up at him. Dallas was a good guy. He was always saying sweet things like that and letting her know he understood her better than most folks did. “Thank you. That’s really nice, Dallas.” She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him softly.

  His arms tightened around her, and he held her closer to him. “Anything for my High Priestess.”

  His breath was warm and sweet against her mouth and, on impulse, Stevie Rae kissed him again, liking that he was making her feel all tingly inside. And liking that his touch was blocking thoughts of Rephaim from her mind. She was more than a little breathless when he reluctantly let her go.

  He cleared his throat and gave a little laugh. “Be careful, girl. It’s been a long time since you and me been alone.”

  Feeling kinda giggly and light-headed, she dimpled at him. “Too long.”

  His smile was sexy and cute. “We’ll have to fix that soon, but first you better get to work.”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said. “Work, work, work . . .”

  Smiling, she took the sweetgrass braid, the green candle, and the matches he’d brought her.

  “Hey,” Dallas said, handing her the stuff, “I just remembered something about sweetgrass. Aren’t you supposed to use somethin’ else before you burn it? I was kinda good in Spells and Rituals Class, and I swear there was more to it than just lighting the braid and waving it around.”

  Stevie Rae screwed up her forehead, thinking. “I dunno. Zoey talked about it ’cause it’s a Native American thing. I swear she said it draws positive energy.”

  “Okay, well, I guess Z would know,” Dallas said.

  Shrugging, Stevie Rae said, “Yeah, plus it is just grass that smells good. I mean, how bad could it be?”

  “Yeah, seriously. Besides, you’re Earth Girl. You should be able to control some burnin’ grass.”

  “Yep,” she said. “Okay, well, here goes.” Whispering a simple, “Thank you, earth,” to her element, she turned her back to Dallas, stepped over the boundary and entered the earth-made circle. Stevie Rae strode confidently to the northernmost point inside the circumference, which was directly in front of the old tree. She stopped there and closed her eyes. Stevie Rae had learned early that the best way to connect with her element was through her senses. So she breathed in deeply, clearing her mind of all the cluttered thoughts she usually carried around with her and allowing only one thing to leak through: the sense of hearing.

  She listened to the earth. Stevie Rae could hear the wind murmuring through the winter leaves, the night birds singing to each other, the sounds and sighings of the park settling down for a long, cold night.

  When her sense of sound was full of earth, Stevie Rae drew in another breath and focused on smell. She breathed in the earth, scenting the damp heaviness of ice-encapsulated grass, the crisp cinnamon of the browned leaves, the uniquely mossy fragrance of the ancient oak.

  Her sense of smell filled by earth, Stevie Rae drew another deep breath and imagined the rich, full taste of a garlic bulb and the ripeness of summer tomatoes. She thought about the simple earth magick of pulling at green, tufty tops and discovering below them thick, crisp carrots that had been nurtured within the earth.

  Taste overflowing with earth’s bounty, she thought about the touch of the softness of summer grass against her feet—of dandelions tickling her chin as she held one there to see if it’d leave the telltale yellow blush of secret love—of the way the earth lifted to fill all of her senses after a spring rain.

  And then, drawing an even deeper breath, Stevie Rae let her spirit embrace the wonderful, amazing, magickal way the gift of her element made her feel. Earth was mother, counselor, sister, and friend. Earth grounded her, and even when everything else in her world was totally screwed up, she could count on her element to calm and protect her.

  Smiling, Stevie Rae opened her eyes. She turned to her right. “Air, I ask you to please come to my circle.” Even though she didn’t have a yellow candle, or anyone to represent air, Stevie Rae knew it was important to acknowledge and pay respect to each of the other four elements. And, if she was really lucky, they might actually show up and strengthen her circle. Facing south, she continued, “Fire, I ask that you please come to my circle.” Turning deosil, or clockwise, she called, “Water, I’d like you to please come to my circle. Then, deviating from a traditional casting, Stevie Rae stepped back a few feet to the middle of the grassy area, and said, “Spirit, this is out of order, but I’d really like it if you joined my circle, too.”

  Walking forward to the north, Stevie Rae was almost one hundred percent sure she caught sight of a thin silver thread of light spiraling around her. She grinned over her shoulder at Dallas. “Hey, I think it’s workin’.”

  “Of course it’s workin’, girl. You got some serious High Priestess mojo.”

  It sounded really good that Dallas kept calling her High Priestess, and Stevie Rae was still smiling when she turned back to the north. Feeling proud and strong, she finally lit the green candle, saying, “Earth, I know I’m doin’ things outta order here, but I had to save the best for last. So now I’m askin’ you to come to me like you always do, because you and me, we got a connection that’s somethin’ even more special than fireflies filling Haikey Creek Park during a summer night. Come to me, earth. Please come to me.”

  Earth burst around her like an exuberant puppy. Moments before the night had been cold and wet and dominated by the crippling ice storm, but now Stevie Rae felt the welcomed warmth and humidity of an Oklahoma summer night as the presence of her element dominated the fully cast circle.

  “Thank you!” she said joyfully. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that I can always count on you.” Heat radiated up from under her feet, and the ice that encased the grass within the circle cracked and shattered as the blades sprang free, temporarily released from their winter prison. “Okay.” She kept her mind filled with her element and spoke to earth as if it was personified in front of her. “I gotta ask you somethin’ important. But first I’m gonna light this, ’cause I think you’ll like it a lot.” Stevie Rae held the dried sweetgrass in the flame and then set the candle at her feet when the braid took light. She blew softly on it, so that the grass began to smoke. Stevie Rae turned and, grinning at Dallas, walked around the inside of the circumference of her circle, wafting the grass until the entire area was hazy with gray smoke and heady with the scent of summertime on the prairie.

  When she returned to the top of the circle, Stevie Rae faced north again, the direction most closely allied with her element, and began
to speak. “My friend, Zoey Redbird, said that sweetgrass draws positive energy, and I definitely need some energy tonight, ’specially since it’s for Zoey that I’m asking your help. I know you remember her—she has an affinity for you, just like she does for all the elements. She’s special, and not just ’cause she’s my BFF. Z’s special ’cause,” Stevie Rae paused, and then the words came to her, “she’s special ’cause Zoey has a little bit of everything inside her. I guess it’s kinda like she represents all of us. So we need her back. Plus, she’s hurtin’ where she is, and I think she needs help to find her way out. So her Warrior, a guy named Stark, is gonna go after her. He definitely needs your help. I’m asking that you show me the way for Stark to help Zoey. Please.”

  Stevie Rae wafted the still-smoking braid around her one more time, and then she waited.

  The smoke was sweet and thick. The night was unusually warm because of the presence of her element.

  But nothing else was going on.

  Sure, she could feel earth there, surrounding her, willing to do her bidding.

  But nothing was happening.

  At all.

  Not sure what else to do, Stevie Rae wafted the sweetgrass braid around her some more and tried again.

  “Well, maybe I wasn’t specific enough.” She thought for a second, trying to remember everything Aphrodite had told her, and added, “With the power of earth, and through the energy of this sacred grass, I call the white bull from the old days to my circle because I need to know how Stark can get to Zoey so that he can protect her while she finds a way back together and back to this world.”

  The sweetgrass that had been gently smoking until then turned red-hot. With a cry, Stevie Rae dropped it. Thick, black smoke billowed from the sizzling braid, like it was a snake belching darkness. Pressing her burned hand against her body, Stevie Rae stumbled back.

  “Stevie Rae? What’s happening?”

  She could hear Dallas, but when she looked behind her she couldn’t see him anymore. The smoke was just too thick. Stevie Rae turned around, trying to peer through the darkness at him, but she couldn’t see one dang thing. She looked where her burning earth candle should be, and it, too, had been covered by the smoke. Disoriented, she yelled, “I don’t know what’s goin’ on. The sweetgrass got weird all of a sudden and—”

  The earth beneath her feet, that tangible part of her element that Stevie Rae felt so connected to—so comfortable with—began to shake.

  “Stevie Rae, you need to come outta there now. I don’t like all this smoke.”

  “Can you feel that?” she called to Dallas. “Is the ground shakin’ out there, too?”

  “No, but I can’t see you, and I got a bad feeling ’bout this.”

  Before Stevie Rae saw it, she felt its presence. The feeling it gave her was terrifyingly familiar and in the heartbeat of an instant, Stevie Rae understood why. It reminded her of the moment she’d realized she was dying. The moment she’d begun to cough, grabbed Zoey’s hand, and said, I’m scared, Z. The echo of that terror paralyzed Stevie Rae, so that when the tip of the first horn took form and glinted at her, white and sharp and dangerous, all she could do was stare and shake her head back and forth, back and forth.

  “Stevie Rae! Can you hear me?”

  Dallas’s voice seemed to be miles away.

  The second horn materialized, and, along with it, the bull’s head began to form, white and massive, with eyes so black they glistened like a bottomless lake at midnight.

  Help me! Stevie Rae tried to say, but fear trapped the words in her throat.

  “That’s it. I’m comin’ in there and getting’ you, even if you don’t want me to break the circle and—”

  Stevie Rae felt the ripple when Dallas reached the boundary of her circle. So did the bull. The creature turned its great head and snorted a gust of fetid air into the inky smoke. The night shivered in response.

  “Shit! Stevie Rae, I can’t get inside the circle. Close it and get out of there!”

  “I-I c-c-can’t,” she stammered, her voice a broken whisper.

  Fully formed, the bull was a nightmare come alive. Its breath gagged Stevie Rae. Its eyes trapped her. His white coat was luminous in the all-encompassing darkness, but it wasn’t beautiful. Its brilliance was slimy, its glistening surface cold and dead. One of the beast’s enormous cloven hoofs lifted and then fell, tearing the earth with such malice that Stevie Rae felt an echo of the pain of the wound within her soul. She ripped her gaze from the bull’s eyes to stare down at his hooves. She gasped in horror. The grass around the beast was broken and blackened. Where he had pawed the earth—Stevie Rae’s earth—the ground was torn and bleeding.

  “No!” The dam of terror broke enough for her words to finally escape. “Stop! You’re hurting us!”

  The bull’s black eyes bored into hers. The voice that filled her head was deep and powerful and unimaginably malicious. “You had the power to evoke me, vampyre, and that has amused me enough that I choose to answer your question. The Warrior must look to his blood to discover the bridge to enter the Isle of Women, and then he must defeat himself to enter the arena. Only by acknowledging one before the other will he join his Priestess. After he joins her, it is her choice and not his whether she returns.”

  Stevie Rae swallowed her fear and blurted, “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Your inability to comprehend has no bearing on me. You summoned. I answered. Now I shall claim my blood price. It has, indeed, been eons since I tasted the sweetness of vampyre blood—especially one filled with so much innocent Light.”

  Before Stevie Rae could begin to form any kind of response, the beast started to circle her. Tendrils of darkness slithered from the smoke surrounding him and began to snake their way toward her. When they touched her, they were like frozen razor blades slicing, tearing, ripping her flesh.

  Without conscious thought, she screamed one word: “Rephaim!”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Rephaim

  Rephaim knew the instant Darkness materialized. He’d been sitting on the rooftop balcony, eating an apple, staring up at the clear night sky and trying to ignore the annoying presence of the human ghost that had developed an unfortunate fascination with him.

  “Come on, tell me! Is it really fun to fly?” the young spirit asked for what Rephaim thought was probably the hundredth time. “It looks like it’d be fun. I never got to, but I’ll bet flying with your own wings is way more fun than flying in an airplane any day.”

  Rephaim had sighed. The child talked more than Stevie Rae, which was pretty impressive. Irritating, but impressive. He was trying to decide if he should continue to ignore her and hope she’d finally go away, or come up with an alternative plan, as ignoring the girl didn’t appear to be working. He’d thought perhaps he should ask Stevie Rae what to do about the ghost, which had turned his mind to the Red One. Though, truth be told, his thoughts were never far from her.

  “Is it dangerous to fly? I mean with your wings? I guess it must be because you got hurt, and I’ll bet that was from flying around . . .”

  The child had been babbling when the texture of the world changed. In that first, shocking moment, he felt the familiarity and believed, for the space of a heartbeat, that his father had returned.

  “Silence!” he roared at the ghost. He stood and whirled around, glowing red eyes glaring into the dark land surrounding him, hoping beyond words that he could glimpse the raven blackness of his father’s wings.

  The ghost child made a shocked squeak, cringed away from him, and disappeared.

  Rephaim gave her absolutely no thought. He was too busy being barraged with knowledge and emotions.

  First came knowledge. He knew almost immediately that it wasn’t his father he’d sensed. Yes, Kalona was powerful, and he had long allied himself with Darkness, but the disturbance this immortal was making in the world was different; it was far more powerful. Rephaim could sense it in the excited response of the dark hidden things of the e
arth, sprites that this modern world of man-made light and electronic magick had forgotten. But Rephaim had not forgotten them, and from the deepest of the night’s shadows, he saw ripples and quivers, and was baffled by their reaction.

  What could be powerful enough to arouse the hidden sprites?

  Then Stevie Rae’s fear hit him. It was the rawness of her complete terror coupled with the excitement of the sprites, and that instant of initial familiarity, that provided Rephaim with his answer.

  “By all the gods, Darkness itself has entered this realm!” Rephaim was moving before he’d made a conscious decision to do so. He burst out of the front doors of the dilapidated mansion, knocking them aside with his uninjured arm as if they were made of cardboard, only to come to a halt on the wide front porch.

  He had no idea of where he should go.

  Another wave of terror engulfed him. Experiencing it with her, Rephaim knew Stevie Rae was paralyzed by her fear. A horrible thought filled his mind: Had Stevie Rae conjured Darkness? How could she? Why would she?

  The answer to the most important of the three questions came as quickly as he thought it. Stevie Rae would do almost anything if she believed it would bring Zoey back.

  Rephaim’s heart thundered, and his blood pumped hard and fast through his body. Where was she? The House of Night?

  No, surely not. Were she to set about conjuring Darkness, it wouldn’t be at a school devoted to Light.

  “Why didn’t you come to me?” he shouted his frustration into the night. “I know Darkness; you do not!”

  But even as he spoke, he admitted to himself that he was wrong. Stevie Rae had been touched by Darkness when she had died. He hadn’t known her then, but he’d known Stark and had witnessed for himself the Darkness that surrounded the death and resurrection of a fledgling.

  “She chose Light, though.” He spoke softly this time. “And Light always underestimates the viciousness of Darkness.”

  The fact that I live is an example of that.

  Stevie Rae needed him tonight, badly. That was also a fact.