He wondered briefly if love could possibly do anything worse to him than it already had. Was he even capable of it anymore?

He didn’t love Neferet. He’d used her to free himself of the earth’s imprisonment, and then, in turn, she’d used him for her own means.

Did he love Zoey?

He didn’t want to be the cause of her destruction, but guilt wasn’t love. Regret wasn’t love, either. They also weren’t strong enough emotions to make him want to sacrifice the freedom of his body to save her.

Moving through the Goddess’s realm, the fallen immortal had put all questions of love and its painful trappings from his mind and focused on the task at hand.

The first step was to find Zoey.

The second was to be certain she could not return to the earthly realm, so that he could reclaim his body and fulfill the oath he’d sworn to Neferet.

Finding Zoey hadn’t been difficult. He’d only had to concentrate his will on her, and his spirit had ridden the tide of Darkness directly to her—to the fragmented pieces of her soul.

The human boy he’d killed was there with her, or rather he was with the part of her that was most purely Zoey in this lifetime.

It was odd to see him comforting her—reassuring her—and then, somehow, instinctively, guiding her to the Goddess’s sacred grove. A place so purely made of Nyx’s essence that, as long as the balance of Light and Dark remained in place in the world, no evil could ever enter it.

Kalona remembered the grove well. It was within it that he had first realized his love for Nyx. In that terrible time before he chose to fall from Her, it was the only place he could go to find even a small measure of peace.

He’d tried to enter again. To follow Zoey and Heath and be finished with this burden Neferet’s machinations had laid upon him, but Kalona had been unable to breach the barrier of the sacred grove. The attempt had left him weak and breathless, reminding him all too well of the way he felt whenever he was entrapped by the earth.

This time it was the peace and magic of the Goddess’s earth that had rejected him, and not imprisoned him.

He had been too much a part of Darkness for Nyx’s grove to accept him.

Kalona half-expected Nyx to appear before him at any moment—accuse him of being the interloper he so obviously was—and, again, cast him from her realm.

But the Goddess did not appear. It seemed Neferet was correct. Had it been his body and soul that Nyx had banished, Erebus himself would have met him to do his Goddess’s bidding and, with the all the powers of a divine consort, driven his spirit from the Other-world.

So Kalona was allowed this freedom, this Goddess-be-damned choice to return and glimpse what he most desired but could never have.

Anger, familiar and safe, boiled within the immortal.

He stalked Zoey and the boy. It didn’t take Kalona long to realize that by simply forcing them to stay within the grove, he would eventually accomplish his task.

Zoey was fading away from herself. She was becoming an unresting Caoinic Shi’, and as such, she would never return to her body.

The thought of Zoey turning into a being not living and not dead, eternally unable to rest, gave Kalona a curiously painful feeling.

Feeling again! Would he ever be rid of it? Yes. There must be a way. Perhaps Neferet had been right. Perhaps it would be as easy as ridding himself of Zoey. Then he would be free of the guilt and desire and loss she evoked in him.

Even as the thought came to him, Kalona knew he would not be free of her if he left her here to become a wraith, a mere shade of herself. The knowledge of that would haunt him for eternity.

Kalona reconsidered as, from outside the grove, he watched Heath by Zoey’s side, attempting to comfort her when comfort was impossible.

He does love her, and she him. It surprised Kalona that he felt no anger or jealousy at the thought. It was simple fact. Had the world not turned upside down for Zoey, she might have spent an innocent, mundane, happy lifetime with this human boy.

And with sudden clarity, Kalona understood how he could rid himself of Zoey and fulfill Neferet’s oath.

She would be content here with the boy, and her contentment was enough to soothe the guilt he felt at being the impetus behind her death. She would be here, in Nyx’s grove, with her childhood love, and Kalona would return to the earthly realm free of his entanglement with her. It would be an action for good if she remained, Kalona rationalized. She would never know earthly worries and pain again. It seemed a satisfying solution.

Kalona put out of his mind the thought of what it would be like to be bereft of the only person who, in two lifetimes, had reminded him of his lost Goddess and truly made him feel.

Instead, he concentrated on the boy. Heath was the key. It was his death that had caused her soul to shatter, and it was guilt over his death that kept her from being whole again. Foolish human! Does he not know only he can assuage her guilt and allow the healing of her soul?

No, of course he didn’t. He was only a boy, and not a very insightful one at that. He’d have to be led to the realization.

But the boy was in the grove, and Kalona was denied entrance there. So Kalona hovered and observed, and when the boy’s anger spilled over to rage and blood, he used that sliver of base emotion to whisper to him, guide him, send him on his way.

Nearly content, Kalona withdrew to the edge of the grove to wait. The boy would help Zoey mend her soul, but she wouldn’t leave him—not if he was the vehicle through which she was made whole again. So it was only a matter of time, and a very little amount of time at that, before her earthly body perished without her spirit.

Then he could return to his own body, and his oath to Neferet would be fulfilled. Then, Kalona thought grimly, I will be sure the Tsi Sgili never gains control over me.

Smug in his rationalizations and internal deception, the immortal didn’t see Stark enter the grove, so he didn’t witness Zoey’s world turning upside down again.

Stark watched Heath step through the curtain from one realm to the next. For a moment, he couldn’t make himself move, not even to go to Zoey.

He’d been right. Heath was braver than he was. Stark bowed his head, and whispered, “Be with Heath, Nyx, and somehow let him find Zoey again in this lifetime.” Stark’s lips curled up, and he added, “Even if it will cause me a pretty big pain in the ass later on.”

Then Stark lifted his chin, wiped his eyes, and left the concealing rock, going quickly and silently to Zoey.

She looked scary bad. Her matted hair lifted in a strange breeze that seemed to whisper around her as she paced, as if moving in time to a ghostly wind. Just before she saw Stark, she raised her hand to brush back some of it from her face, and he saw that her hand and even her arm suddenly looked transparent.

She was literally fading away.

“Zoey, hey, it’s me.”

The sound of his voice acted on her like an electric shock. Her body jerked, and Zoey whirled around to face him. “Heath!”

“No. It’s Stark. I-I’m sorry about Heath,” he blurted, feeling stupid but not knowing what else to say.

“He’s gone.” She looked blankly at the place Heath had stood before he disappeared, and then her pacing took her around the circle again, and her anguished gaze moved to Stark’s face.

He knew when she recognized him because she staggered to a stop, wrapping her arms around herself as if in protection from a blow.

“Stark!” She shook her head from side to side, over and over. “No, not you, too!”

He knew what she must be thinking and went to her instantly, pulling her stiff, cold body into his arms and holding her close. “I’m not dead.” He said the words slowly and carefully, looking into her face. “Do you understand, Zoey? I’m here, but my body is just fine. It’s back in the real world with yours. Neither one of us is dead.”