“Rephaim will know somethin’. And what he knows, I’m gonna know,” she said resolutely, her fingers tightening on the steering wheel.

If she had to, Stevie Rae would use the power of their Imprint, the power of her element, and every bit of power inside her body to get information from him. Ignoring the sick, terrible, guilty way it made her feel to think of fighting Rephaim, she gave the Bug more gas and turned down Gilcrease Road.

She didn’t have to wonder where she’d find him. Stevie Rae just knew. The front door to the old mansion had already been forced open, and she slipped inside the dark, cold house, following his invisible trail up and up. She didn’t need to see the balcony door ajar to know he was outside. She knew he was there. I’ll always know where he is, she thought gloomily.

He didn’t turn to face her right away, and she was glad. Stevie Rae needed the time to try to get used to the sight of him again.

“So, you came,” he said, still without facing her.

That voice—that human voice. It struck her again, as it had the first night she’d heard it.

“You called me,” she said, trying to keep her voice cool—trying to hold on to the anger she felt at what his horrible daddy had caused.

He turned to face her, and their eyes met.

He looks exhausted, was her first thought. His arm’s bleeding again.

She is still in pain, was his first thought. And she is filled with anger. They stared at each other silently, neither willing to speak their thoughts aloud.

“What has happened?” he finally asked.

“How do you know something’s happened?” she snapped back at him.

He hesitated before speaking, obviously choosing his words carefully. “I know from you.”

“You’re not makin’ any sense, Rephaim.” The sound of her voice speaking his name seemed to echo in the air around them, and the night was suddenly tinted with the memory of the glistening red mist that had been sent by the son of an immortal to caress Stevie Rae’s skin and call her to him.

“That is because it does not make sense to me,” he said, his voice deep and soft and hesitant. “I know nothing about how an Imprint works; you will have to teach me.”

Stevie Rae felt her cheeks get warm. He’s telling the truth, she realized. Our Imprint lets him know things about me! And how could he understand it? I barely do.

She cleared her throat. “So, are you sayin’ you know something’s happened because you can sense it from me?”

“Feel, not sense,” he corrected her. “I felt your pain. Not like before, right after you drank from me. Then your body was in pain. Your pain tonight was emotional, not physical.”

She couldn’t stop staring at him, her shock clear on her face. “Yes, it was. It still is.”

“Tell me what has happened.”

Instead of answering him, she asked, “Why did you call me here?”

“You were feeling pain. I could feel it, too.” He paused, obviously disconcerted by what he was saying, and then continued, “I wanted to stop feeling it. So I sent you strength and called you to me.”

“How did you do it? What was that red misty stuff?”

“Answer my question, and I will answer yours.”

“Fine. What has happened is your daddy killed Heath, the human guy who was Zoey’s consort. Zoey saw him do it and couldn’t stop him, and that shattered her soul.”

Rephaim continued to stare at her until it felt to Stevie Rae as if he was looking through her body and directly into her soul. She couldn’t look away, though, and the longer their gazes met, the harder it was for her to hold on to her anger. His eyes were just so human. Only their color was off, and to Stevie Rae, the scarlet within them wasn’t as alien as it should be. Truthfully, it was frighteningly familiar; it had once tinted her own eyes.

“Don’t you have anything to say about that?” she blurted, pulling her gaze from his so that she was staring out at the empty night.

“There is more. What is it you aren’t telling me?”

Gathering her anger back to her, Stevie Rae met his gaze again. “Word has it your daddy’s soul is shattered, too.”

Rephaim blinked, shock clear in his blood-colored eyes. “I don’t believe that,” he said.

“Neither do I, but Neferet’s dumped his spiritless body on the High Council, and apparently they’re buying the story. You know what I think?” She didn’t wait for him to respond, but went on, her voice rising with her frustration and anger and fear. “I think Kalona’s followed Zoey into the Otherworld because he’s totally obsessed with her.” Stevie Rae wiped at her cheeks, brushing off the tears she thought she’d finished shedding.

“That is impossible.” Rephaim sounded almost as upset as she felt. “My father cannot return to the Otherworld. The realm has been eternally forbidden to him.”

“Well, obviously he figured out a way to get around being forbidden.”

“A way to get around having been eternally banished by the Goddess of Night herself? How could that be accomplished?”

“Nyx kicked him out of the Otherworld?” Stevie Rae said.

“It was my father’s choice. He was once Nyx’s Warrior. Their Oath Bond was broken when he fell.”

“Ohmygoodness, Kalona used to be on Nyx’s side?” Without consciously knowing she was doing so, Stevie Rae moved closer to Rephaim.

“Yes. He guarded her against Darkness.” Rephaim stared out at the night.

“What happened? Why did he fall?”

“Father never speaks of it. I know whatever it was filled him with an anger that burned for centuries.”

“And that’s how you were created. From that anger.”

His gaze found her again. “Yes.”

“Does it fill you, too? That anger and darkness?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“Wouldn’t you know if it did? Just as I know your pain? Is that not how this Imprint between us works?”

“Well, it’s complicated. See, you’ve been kinda forced into the role of my consort since I’m the vampyre here and all. And it’s easier for a consort to sense things about their vampyre than the other way around. What I get from you is—”

“My power,” he broke in. She didn’t think he sounded mad, just tired and almost hopeless. “You get my immortal strength.”

“Holy crap! That’s why I healed so dang fast.”

“Yes, and why I don’t.”

Stevie Rae blinked in surprise. “Well, shoot. You must feel awful—you look pretty bad.”

He made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a snort. “And you look healthy and whole again.”

“I am healthy, but I won’t be really whole until I figure out how to help Zoey. She’s my best friend, Rephaim. She can’t die.”

“He is my father. He can’t die, either.”

They stared at one another, both struggling to make sense of this thing between them that drew them together even as hurt and pain and anger swirled around them, defining and separating their worlds.

“How about this: we get you something to eat. I fix that wing again, which won’t be fun for either of us, and then we try to figure out what’s going on with Zoey and your daddy. You should know some-thin’, though. I can’t feel your emotions like you can feel mine, but I can tell if you’re lyin’ to me. I am also pretty sure I could find you, no matter where you are. So if you lie to me and set up Zoey, I give you my word that I will come against you with all the power of my element and your blood.”

“I will not lie to you,” he said.

“Good. Let’s go inside the museum and find the kitchen.”

Stevie Rae left the rooftop balcony, and the Raven Mocker followed her as if tethered to the High Priestess by an invisible but unbreakable chain.

“You could have anything in this world you desired with that power,” Rephaim said between bites of the huge sandwich she’d fixed him from the stuff that hadn’t already gone bad in the industrial refrigerators of the museum’s restaurant.