"You're crying," he said. "Don't cry."

"I--I can't help it," I said. "I should have kissed more than your hand . . . thought I'd have more time," he whispered between liquid, panting breaths. ". . . too late now."

I looked into his eyes and completely forgot the rest of the world. In that moment, all I knew was that I was holding Stark in my arms, and I was going to lose him very, very soon.

"It's not too late," I told him. I bent and pressed my lips to his. Stark's arms went around me, still strong enough to hold me tight. My tears mixed with his blood, and the kiss was absolutely wonderful and terrible and over too soon.

He broke his lips from mine, turned his head, and coughed his life's blood onto the ground.

"Shhh," I soothed as tears washed down my face. I held him close and murmured, "I'm here. I've got you."

Duchess whined pitifully and lay down close to her master, staring with obvious fear into his bleeding face. "Zoey, listen before I'm gone."

"Okay, okay. Don't worry. I'm listening to you."

"Promise me two things," he said weakly. He coughed and had to lean away from me again. I supported his shoulders, and when he lay back in my arms he was trembling and so white, he looked almost transparent.

"Yes, anything," I said.

One bloody hand reached up and touched my cheek. "Promise that you won't forget me."

"I promise," I said, turning my cheek into his hand. His thumb shakily tried to wipe at my tears, which made me cry even harder. "I couldn't forget you."

"And promise you'll take care of Duchess."

"A dog? But I--"

"Promise!" his voice was suddenly filled with strength. "Don't let them send her to strangers. At least she knows you and can tell I care about you."

"Okay! Yes, I promise. Don't worry," I said.

Stark seemed to crumple in on himself with my last promise. "Thanks. I just wish we . . ." His voice trailed off and he closed his eyes. He turned his head into my lap and put his arm around my waist. Red tears silently washed his face, and he became utterly still. The only part of him that still moved was his fluttering chest as he tried to breathe around the blood that was filling his lungs.

Then I remembered and I felt a rush of hope. Even if I was wrong, Stark had to know.

"Stark, listen to me." He showed no sign of hearing me, and I shook his shoulders. "Stark!"

His eyelids opened halfway.

"Can you hear me?"

Stark's nod was barely perceptible. His bloody lips tilted up in a ghost of his sarcastic, cocky smile. "Kiss me again, Zoey," he whispered.

"You have to listen to me." I bent my head down so that I could speak right into his ear. "This might not be the end for you. At this House of Night, fledglings die, and then they are reborn to another kind of Change."

His eyes opened farther. "I--I might not die?"

"Not for good. Fledglings have been coming back. My best friend did." "Keep Duch safe for me. If I can, I'll come back for her, and for you--" His words ran out in a red river of blood hemorrhaging from his mouth, nose, eyes, and ears.

He couldn't talk anymore, and all I could do was hold him in my arms as his life drained away. It was as he was taking his last, gasping breath that Damien, followed by Dragon Lankford, Aphrodite, and the Twins, burst into the field house.

Chapter Thirteen

Aphrodite reached me first. She helped me to my feet as Stark's dead body slid heavily from my lap. "There's blood on your mouth," she whispered, handing me a tissue from her purse.

I wiped my lips and then my eyes, right before Damien ran up to me.

"Just come with us. We'll get you back to the dorm so you can change your clothes," Damien said. He moved to one side of me, taking my elbow firmly in one of his hands. Aphrodite was on my other side and had another viselike grip on my other elbow. The Twins had their arms wrapped around each other's waists, trying hard not to cry.

Some of the Sons of Erebus had arrived with a dark stretcher and a blanket. Aphrodite and Damien were trying to pull me from the building, but I resisted them. Instead I watched, crying silently as the warriors gently picked up Stark's blood-soaked body and laid it on the stretcher. Then they covered him with the blanket, pulling it over his face.

It was then that Duchess lifted her muzzle to the sky and started to howl.

The sound was horrible. Duchess filled the blood-soaked night with sorrow and loneliness and loss. The Twins immediately burst into tears. I heard Aphrodite say, "Oh, goddess, that's so terrible." Damien whispered, "Poor girl . . . ," and then he, too, began to cry softly. Nala had crouched close to the grief-stricken dog and was watching her with big, sad eyes as if she wasn't sure what to do.