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Zoey
"Do you feel better?" Erce asked tentatively. I was lying in a comfy bed in the infirmary and Erce had just given me medicine after Stark insisted I needed it. My friends were all clustered around my bed and Stark gripped my hand tightly in his, as if he was afraid that if he let go I wouldn't be here.
"Yeah, much better," I lied to Erce, who walked away, content. My voice was raspy, making me sound like an old woman. If I hadn't just had a near-death experience (or maybe just a death experience), Aphrodite would soo have mocked me. So it made me worried that, instead, she was hugging Darius and watching me with a concerned expression on her face.
"What?" My throat rattled. "Am I going to die or something?"
I started to completely freak out when my friends shuffled around, looking at their feet and awkwardly mumbled inaudible replies. Stark clutched my hand even tighter. I turned to him.
"Am I going to die?" I repeated. My voice would have definitely rose with panic, had it not been so, well, raspy. Stark shared a definite Look with Darius, who shook his head. "She needs to know," Stark persisted, his voice breaking. He turned to my friends. "Guys?" he asked meaningfully, and immediately they dispersed. Stark pulled up a chair beside me.
"Zoey, your Mark is no longer filled in and added to," he said gently, always watching my face.
"Okay," I said, my tone indicating that he should continue.
"Well," he hesitated (woah - Stark hesitating? This was bad). "If a normal fledgling went through what you just did, chances are their bodies would soon reject the Change."
"And now I'm a normal fledgling," I stated the obvious.
Stark confirmed what I had said by hanging his head. "Zoey, I-" he began in a whisper.
"Shh," I said, putting my finger to his soft lips.
He met my gaze then, and spoke again. "Zoey, even if you won't let me blame this on myself - because it's most definitely my fault - at least let me tell you that I'm genuinely sorry about Heath. If it's any consolation, even I'm going to miss him." His voice was muffled by my finger.
Slowly, weakly, I lowered my hand. I had talked to Heath in the Otherworld. Had Nyx not been there, I would probably have thought of it as a dream. But she had been there, and it wasn't a dream.
"Zoey," Stark said softly. "What are you hiding from me?"
I reluctantly met his eyes. Could I really tell him? Should I?
"Z, as I said before, I'm your Warrior. You can trust me with absolutely anything." Stark's face was totally serious. His eyes sparkled with sincerity.
"I . . . I think I was dead for a while," I whispered, dropping my gaze to our hands.
"I think you were, too." I could feel him still watching my face.
"I talked to Heath."
"Then he went looking for me, right?" Stark was totally oblivious. I looked up from our joined hands and into his deep eyes again. They were so easy to get lost in. And there were so many emotions that were so easy to see in them; relief, understanding, kindness, confusion-
"Zoey," Stark's voice was thick with only worry now. Of course he had heard my internal babble, or at least picked up the tone of it. Hell, he probably thought I needed therapy. I know I did.
"That's not what I meant." My voice wasn't much above a whisper. Stark's big brown eyes asked me to go on.
"I talked to - to Heath after he died." I searched for a sign on his face that said he thought I was a crazy person, but all I found was pure curiosity.
"Where?" he asked.
"In the Otherworld. We were in a big meadow, and it was sunny but it didn't bother me. Heath was fishing, then he told me I didn't beling there. And it wasn't a dream, Stark, it wasn't because Nyx came."
Belief was now obvious on his face. "Nyx? Did she say anything about your Marks?"
I shook my head. "She was there to talk to Heath and congratulate him." I remembered something else. "And Heath said that if you don't treat me well, he'll haunt you."
Stark smiled. "He doesn't have to worry. I gotta say, I liked him a lot more than that Erik Night. Heath was easy to get along with, and didn't think he was the best thing since sliced bread."
I laughed - not an attractive sound when it sounds like your throat is stuffed with metal rattling around the place. "Sliced bread?"
"You've gotta read more, Z," he said playfully.
"I do read, thank you very much. I just don't recall coming across that . . . phrase."
He laughed again. "Zoey, promise to tell me if you feel sick in any way. Promise?"
"Promise. I don't think I'm going to die, Stark."
He smiled sadly. "Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better."
Suddenly Stark yelped. He let go of my hand and fell to his knees. Clutching his Mark, he roared in agony.
"Stark! What is it?" I sat up weakly.
Erce rushed in. "What's happening?"
I ignored her. Finding strength in my love for Stark, I climbed out of the bed. If he could climb stairs after almost being killed, I could get my butt out of bed to help him.
"Stark?" I asked, dropping to my knees beside him and grabbing his arm.
"Zoey, I - " he broke off to roar again. "Zoey, I'm fine. Go - go back to bed."
I shook my head determindly."Tell me what's wrong."
"Neferet," was all he said before fainting.
