like it was brand-new. I tapped the garage door opener-like keypad that Neferet had given me after Grandma had brought my car to me. The wrought-iron gate to the school swung open silently. Despite the fact that even the weak, foggy daylight bothered my eyes and made my skin feel twitchy, my mood lightened as soon as I was outside the school gates. It's not that I hated the House of Night or anything like that. Actually, the school and my friends there had become my home and family. It was just that to day I needed something more. I needed to feel normal again--normal as in pre-Marked Zoey, when my biggest worry was geometry class and the only "power" I had was the eerie ability to find cute shoes on sale. Actually, shopping sounded like a good idea. Utica Square was less than a mile down the street from the House of Night, and I loved the American Eagle store there.
My wardrobe had, tragi cally, become overstocked in dark colors like purple, black, and navy since I'd been Marked. A bright red sweater was exactly what I needed. I parked in the less used lot behind the row of stores that American Eagle sat in the middle of. The trees in this lot were bigger, so I liked the shade, along with the fact that there were fewer people in the back lot. I know my reflection showed a nor mal teenage kid, but inside I was still Marked, and more than a little nervous about my first daylight trip into my old world. Not that I expected to run into anyone I knew. I was the one my high school friends had called "weird" and "out there" be cause I liked to shop in the chic midtown stores versus the loud, boring, food court?smelling mall. Grandma Redbird was respon sible for my out-of-the-ordinary tastes. She used to call it "field-tripping" when she'd take me all over Tulsa on fun day trips. No way was I going to run into Kayla and the Broken Arrow crowd at Utica, and pretty soon the familiar smells and sights of American Eagle were working their retail magic on me. By the time I paid for the totally cute red knit sweater my stomach had quit hurting, and despite the fact that it was the middle of the day and I was sleep-deprived, my headache was gone, too. But I was starving. There was a Starbucks across the street from American Eagle. It was on the corner that framed a pretty, shady courtyard in the middle of the square. With the wet, dreary day I would bet no one would be sitting at the little iron tables on the wide, tree-lined sidewalk.
I could get a yummy cappuccino, one of their mega-big blueberry muffins, a copy of the Tulsa World, and sit outside and pretend like I was a college kid. It seemed like a seriously good plan. I was totally right--there was no one sitting in the outside tables, and I snagged the one closest to the big magnolia tree and set about putting the proper amount of raw sugar in my cappuccino as I nibbled at my mountain-sized muffin. I don't remember when I first felt his presence. It started subtly, like a weird itch under my skin. I moved restlessly in my chair, trying to concentrate on the movie page and thinking that maybe I could talk Erik into checking out the latest chick flick next weekend ... But I couldn't pay attention to the movie reviews. The annoying, under-my-skin feeling wouldn't go away. Com pletely irritated I glanced up and froze. Heath was standing under a streetlight not fifteen feet away from me.
Chapter Twelve
Heath was taping some kind of flyer to the light post. I could see his face clearly and it surprised me how handsome he looked. Okay, sure, I'd known him since third grade and watched him go from cute to gawky to cute to hot, but I'd never seen this look on him. His face was set in grim, nonsmiling lines that made him appear much older than eighteen. It was like I was catching a glimpse of the man he would turn into--and it was a nice glimpse. He was tall and blond, with high cheekbones and a really strong chin. Even from that distance I could see the thick eyelashes that were surpris ingly dark, and knew the gentle brown eyes they framed. And then,