"Yeah, I got that. All High Priestesses are powerful."

I paused. "How about I say she's also not exactly what she appears to be, and that you should be careful around her, and leave it at that for right now. Oh, and she's majorly intuitive--practically psychic."

"Good to know. I'll be careful."

Deciding to beat a hasty retreat before this new kid, who on one hand seemed all intense and confident, and on the other was obviously vulnerable and completely and utterly fascinating me and making me want to forget that I'd sworn off sex. Sex!? I meant guys. I'd sworn off guys. And sex. With them. Oh, jeesh. "I better get going. I have a horse waiting to be groomed," I blurted.

"Better not keep an animal waiting--they can be pretty demanding." He smiled down at Duchess and ruffled her ears. As I started to turn to leave, he caught my wrist and let his hand slide down so that his fingers twined through mine. "Hey," he said softly. "Thanks for not freaking about what I just told you."

I smiled up at him. "Sadly, with the kind of week I've been having, your weird gift seems almost normal."

"Sadly, that's good to hear." And then he lifted my hand and kissed it. Just like that. Just like he kissed girls' hands every day. I didn't know what to say. What's the protocol when a guy kisses your hand? Did one say thanks? I kinda wanted to kiss him back, and I was thinking about how I shouldn't be thinking that and staring into his brown eyes when he said, "Are you going to tell everyone about me?"

"Do you want me to?" "No, not unless you have to."

"Then I won't tell unless I have to," I said.

"Thanks, Zoey," he said. He squeezed my hand, smiled, and then let me go.

I stood there for a second watching him pick up his bow and walk back to where the quiver of arrows were sitting in their leather holder. Without looking at me again, he took an arrow from the quiver, sighted, and let it fly free to the exact center of the target again. Seriously, he was totally and completely mysterious and sexy, and I was soooo out of there. I turned and, telling myself that I really needed to get a handle on my hormones, was almost out the door when I heard his first cough. I froze, hoping that if I just paused for a second, he'd clear his throat like before and then the next sound I'd hear would be another arrow hitting the bull's-eye.

Stark coughed again. This time I could hear the horrible liquid rattle in the back of his throat. And then the smell hit me--the beautiful, terrible smell of fresh blood. I gritted my teeth against my disgusting desire.

I didn't want to turn around. I wanted to run out of the building, call someone to help him, and never, ever come back. I didn't want to witness what I knew was going to come next.

"Zoey!" My name was filled with liquid and fear when it came from his mouth.

I forced myself to turn around.

Stark had already fallen to his knees. He was bent over at the waist, and I could see that he was puking up fresh blood onto the smooth, golden sand of the field house floor. Duchess was whining terribly, and even though he was choking on blood, Stark put one hand out to stroke the big dog. I could hear him whispering to her between coughs that it would be okay.

I ran back to him.

He fell as I reached him, and I was just able to grab him and pull him onto my lap. I yanked off his sweatshirt, ripping it down the middle so that he lay there only in his T- shirt and jeans. I used the sweatshirt to wipe at the blood that was pouring from his eyes and nose and mouth.

"No! I don't want this to happen now." He paused, coughing up more blood that I kept wiping away. "I just found you--I don't want to leave you so soon."

"I've got you. You're not alone." I tried to sound calm and soothing, but I was breaking apart inside. Please don't take him! Please save him! my mind screamed.

"Good," he gasped, and coughed again, sending fresh rivulets of blood from his nose and mouth. "I'm glad it's you. If it has to happen, I'm glad it's you here with me."

"Sssh," I said. "I'll call for help." I closed my eyes and did the first thing that popped into my mind. I called Damien. Thinking hard about air and wind and sweet, beautiful summer breezes, I suddenly felt a warm, questioning wind against my face. Get Damien here and have him bring help! I commanded the wind. It whirled around me, tornado-like, once, and then was gone.

"Zoey!" Stark called my name and then coughed again and again.

"Don't talk. Save your strength," I said, holding him tightly with one arm and brushing the wet hair gently back from his damp face with my free hand.