Still loving playing in PC and Kristen Cast's HON playground...

The morning sun was painfully, painfully bright. Everything was blazing reflections and sharp lines and hard colors and asphalt and cement and metal and brick. The air was crisp and still and cool, and the sky was blue – unreal, cartoon-character blue. This early (in the human world, at least), we were practically the only people outside and moving. Heath got me to his truck by wrapping me in his coat and basically running me across the parking lot.

We didn't talk any more, but we held hands as I huddled low in the seat. I still had Heath's coat wrapped around me, but there was no way I could totally hide from the daylight. Heath had called his parents while I was in the shower, but I didn't ask what he'd told them. Too many other thoughts were elbowing their way through the mess in my head. Maybe to give me time, or maybe for reasons of his own, Heath drove the speed limit, not racing to our new possible crisis but not crawling reluctantly, either. The rich houses and cars we passed were so still it was like we were traveling through a life-sized 3-D photograph instead of real homes where real people lived and worked and had no idea that a dark (and horribly seductive) immortal could change their lives very soon, possibly today.

We parked and Heath guided me through campus under the ancient, tall trees that somehow provided zero shade. Campus was quiet, eerily so, like no one even lived here at all. I had to shake myself to remember that everyone else was almost definitely in bed, asleep. Stark's text had said to meet in the lounge, so we went straight to my dorm. Apparently the risk of getting caught after curfew and having guys in the girls' dorm wasn't a consideration. I would have chosen Stevie Rae's tunnels, but there had to be a good reason we were meeting here.

Even with my amazing fledgling eyes it took a minute for them to adjust after being out in that super-bright daylight. After all that brightness, though, the darkness of the lounge was such a huge relief that I just stood there for a second inside the doors with my eyes closed, taking deep, slow breaths and letting my muscles relax. My other senses started to work a few seconds later and I heard the quiet murmuring of my friends. I leaned into Heath's strong body one more time and he squeezed my hand. He kissed me, just a quick brush of his lips across mine, but it still made my stomach flutter. "Go ahead," he said.

And… my stomach twisted. I was still happy being with him, happy about our night together, happy about hoping for our future together. He was right, though, and he knew it. I was feeling all kinds of guilty, but as happy as I was with Heath, I was still aching to get back to Stark.

I squeezed Heath's hand back, one more time, and kissed his cheek. I pressed our faces together for just a second longer, letting him feel how happy he made me, how conflicted I was about leaving him. Just this once I thanked Nyx for the Imprint… and then I forgot to even say hi to the rest of my friends and I was up the stairs.

I swear I could feel him before I even opened the door. Then I was inside and his arms were around me and I knew. I would always love Heath. I'd loved him practically my whole life already. Now that I was Marked and Nyx's priestess, he was also my consort. Because of that, he was my link to my past, my home, and – in some strange way I knew - my humanity. He made me happy, he made me feel loved, and I loved him back with every bit of my heart.

But Stark was my soulmate and my future.

Stark kissed me, and I kissed him back and knotted my fingers in his hair. I pushed him backward until his back hit the door, slamming us inside my dorm room together. The door was hard and cool and smooth and I nearly bruised my knuckles as I pinned Stark against it. He held me close, so firmly and tightly that we were both having trouble breathing.

He broke the kiss because I couldn't. He pressed his cheek against mine and chuckled, but his grip on me was still reassuringly tight.

"Priestess." He was breathing hard, and his voice made it sound like he was worshipping me.

I twisted in his arms so I could look up into his eyes. "I love you."

"How are you?" he asked more normally.

"Better now."

He grinned his cocky grin and kissed me again. I relaxed into him and breathed him in. I wanted – needed – his hands on me, needed his skin pressed against mine. But everyone was downstairs waiting. Also, my ho-ish-ness was still not completely okay with me: Stark-Erik-Heath-Stark? In less than seventy-two hours? I wanted to – needed to – and I also couldn't.

I wrapped my arms around Stark – I couldn't take things any farther, but I also couldn't let go of him - and tried to distract myself. It felt like forever since I'd been in my own room. The shelves and desk were still fairly neat, just like I'd left them, but there was an unfamiliar laptop in the middle of my piles of papers. Dirty clothes were in a pile in the corner. I still – thankfully – hadn't gotten a replacement roommate, so Stevie Rae's old bed was bare. I'd given her back her old quilt that I'd gotten from storage after she "died", so there was nothing on the mattress to make it pretty. I kept planning to go to Target or something and get a comforter, but I just hadn't made the trip yet. My own bed looked slept-in. With everyone coming in and out of my room all the time, I usually try to keep my bed made.

"You've been sleeping here?" I asked Stark. I swear he almost blushed. "That's really –"

"Pathetic?" he grinned.

"Sweet," I grinned back.

"I've been in the tunnels part of the time," he said. "But I'm used to sleeping here."

"You can stay here as much as you want." I hugged him and pressed my face into his neck. "I missed you."

"How did things go with Erik?" He asked casually, like he was asking about a paper, or a test.

I froze – I couldn't help it. It was like I could feel Erik's body again, instead of Stark's. I could see Erik's eyes, staring hard into me when he told me he couldn't promise me anything, but he did love me. "I love him," I whispered.

Stark let out a shuddering breath but didn't let go of me. "Told you so." His voice was light but laced with pain, and I swear I could feel him force a cocky grin.

Crap. Crap. Crap. "I love Heath, too. I always have."

"I know." He whispered.

"I love you more," I tried. In that moment it was absolutely true.

He kissed me again and I leaned into him with all my strength. "Good," he said, so quiet that I barely heard him.

We stayed that way, pressed up against the door. Shutting out the rest of the world. Then his phone alarm went off.

He broke the kiss and met my eyes. "Showtime."

I wasn't ready, but I was supposed to be a high priestess, so my actual readiness didn't really matter. I reached up and touched Stark's forehead, letting my fingers trail down his cheekbones and tracing the super-cool red arrow tattoos he got when he Changed. "My Warrior."

He kissed the filled-in crescent in the middle of my forehead. "My Lady."

I took a deep breath and stepped away from him just a tiny bit. It felt like I was ripping off my own arm. He captured my hand in his, weaving his fingers tightly between mine, and I held onto him. He met my eyes again, and I just nodded.

I led us down the stairs into the lounge. Maybe Kalona's brief takeover of the school was still affecting people more than I thought, because that was the only reason I could come up with for why the lounge was full of my friends, yet everyone else in the dorm stayed in their rooms, hopefully asleep. Heath saw me first, of course, and gave me a kinda-sad smile. Then Erik (who was standing next to Heath?) turned around. He looked into my eyes like he was refusing to see Stark standing next to me.

Erik crossed the room in just a few long strides, gathered my face in his hands, and kissed me. He held my face tightly – almost too tightly - but his kiss was gentle and sweet. I felt myself melt a little, leaned into him, and covered his hand with mine. But the whole time I could feel the pressure of Stark's hand, his thumb rubbing reassuring, distracting circles against my palm.

I squeezed Stark's hand, broke the kiss, and stared into Erik's eyes. He looked pissed, but he was trying. "I love you, Z," he whispered in my ear. "I almost wish I didn't."

I could hear a vulnerability in his voice that didn't show on his face. I hated that he was mad – would probably stay mad – but I hated hurting him, more. I wished I could just throw my arms around him and promise him that I loved him and would do anything to stop hurting him. The Stark's hand twitched, and I'm pretty sure I died a little inside. This was worse than horrible. There wasn't a word for how horrible this was. I loved them both. Oh, Goddess, how can I do this...

Heath tackled me from behind and threw me onto the nearest couch, and before I could catch my breath he locked eyes with me, kissed me hard and fast, and came up grinning. I squirmed and he rolled off me some, letting me breathe. He kissed me softer on the cheek and whispered in my ear. "Don't worry about them. You go be high priestess and kick some butt."

He let me go when he felt me relax. He was right. Anyway, there was plenty of time to beat myself up later. Hell, if I screwed up the High Priestess / Kalona stuff there probably wouldn't be a later to even worry about. That thought shouldn't've made me feel better, but it kind of did.

"Thanks," I whispered to him.

"Anytime, Zo." He whispered back.

I took a deep breath and raised my voice. "Heath Michael Luck, get your musclebound butt off me."

He hopped up, grinning, and looked around expectantly. It really was the perfect setup for a 'that's what she said'. In most cases the Twins would have been right there, but when they didn't say anything, it finally processed through my addled brain that they weren't saying anything. They were just sitting on matching lounge chairs, looking at Heath and me like we were a science experiment.

I glanced over at Aphrodite, who was paying way too much attention to her manicure (even for her), and Darius, who was looking guard-like and stoic and not saying anything either. The only noise in the room – which sounded way too loud and awkward in the suddenly deafening silence - was Jack, talking to Damien. Jack's voice sounded strained and Damien was nodding too often at whatever Jack was saying. The silence from everyone else continued, and Jack finally took a deep breath and stopped mid-sentence. He looked over at us - at me first, then at Heath, then Stark. "Sorry."

"It's okay, Jack," Stark said.

Damien put his arm around Jack. "You tried, honey," he said. "That's more than I can say for the rest of you." His glare took in the Twins in particular.

"Queen Damien," Shawnee sighed, "you cannot tell me that you are comfortable with the soap opera on steroids over there."

"Exactly," Erin chimed in. "Like we're supposed to not stare at the weirdness that is Z being shared by the trio of hotness. It's not a soap opera, Twin, it's porn."

"I stand corrected," Shawnee agreed.

My face burned, but I couldn't back down or hide like I wanted to. "They're not 'sharing' me," I snapped. I couldn't look at any of my guys, though. "Nyx wants us all together for a reason."

"Oh, we know. Stark explained it to Jack, Jack told Damien, and Damien told all of us so we wouldn't be 'shocked and inappropriate'." Shawnee made air quotes around her words.

Erin added, "Z, we love you, but you have to know this isn't normal."

"That is where you are wrong," Darius spoke up from the back of the room. "Some priestesses, not all, but some, have intimate connections with more than one male. The demands of being a priestess are such that different men fill different roles, different needs in the priestess's life. Zoey is still young, but the demands on her are great. I am not surprised that Nyx has had some hand in choosing the males in Zoey's life. Even though I am not intimate with Zoey, I consider myself chosen by Nyx to serve her with whatever skills I have."

I couldn't think about the world-altering information he'd just shared, because his simple declaration of devotion and service was too much to let pass unacknowledged. The words flowed from Nyx through me, and I didn't feel awkward or young or inexperienced or worried. I felt like a priestess. I walked over to him and stood in front of him formally. "Thank you, Darius. I am forever grateful for your service to me, and to Nyx."

He inclined his head to me, crossing his arm over his chest in a traditional, formal salute. "I am glad to be in your service, Priestess."

"That's what I was trying to explain to you guys, " Damien said. "It's not common knowledge – it's only vaguely mentioned in the sixth-former Advanced Vamp Soc book – but when Jack told me what Stark said I started cross-referencing. It's not what we're used to from our human upbringing, but in vampyre society, it's possible for priestesses to have Mates, Consorts, and Warriors. I couldn't find any mention of other priestesses having all three at the same time, but we all know Z is special."

Some movement from Erik caught my eye and I remembered. He'd been the first one to tell me something like that – that a human that a priestess was connected with was called a Consort, while her vamp lover was called her Mate. Erik was only a fifth former before he Changed. How had he known?

Erin rolled her eyes, "Special in the head, maybe."

"Amen, Twin," Shawnee agreed.

I relaxed a little. That was the closest I was going to get for an apology from them, but I couldn't really blame them. I was having a hard enough time accepting the guy situation, and it was me in the middle of it. I would probably be just as weirded out if it was one of them with more than one guy. "You can ride the short bus with me, there's room," I told them. They looked at each other.

"We'll ride the short bus with you any day," Erin said, finally.

"But we're still going to give you crap about you dipping way too often in the man-pool over there," Shawnee grinned.

I rolled my eyes, but it actually felt kind of good that they were teasing me, that they weren't going to pretend everything was normal. No matter what Darius and Damien said, this wasn't normal for me, and not to them, either.

I was amazingly relieved to hear that just maybe I wasn't a ho, that maybe somehow the rules about guys and priestesses were different. Just maybe, I'd get used to the idea. I had new reasons to be freaked, though. I'd thought my guys were somehow connected to helping me get rid of Kalona. If the extra guys (extra, as in more than one) were just about being part of my life because being a priestess is hard, where was my extra edge in defeating the possibly homicidal (and agonizingly tempting…) frightening immortal?

Jack cleared his throat in a super-obvious way to get our attention, and I almost asked him what he wanted - then I got distracted by Heath saying something to Erik under his breath. Erik nodded stiffly, and I couldn't help myself. I know I should have just let it go, and I know it was irrational and a little paranoid of me, but I was a little disturbed that my guys were talking.

"Thanks again." Heath said, a little more loudly. He said it like he meant, it but he was still pissed about something.

Erik's mouth tightened, but he nodded back.

"What?" I asked, not sure if I should be asking Erik or Heath.

"Nothing," Erik shrugged.

Heath sighed. "I'm behaving myself." He said it like he was explaining something, not being defensive or making excuses.

"What do you mean?" I pressed.

"While you were upstairs I got a brainstorm," Heath said. "Maybe I can get some help with this consort stuff from Erik's dad."

All those words in the same sentence didn't make sense. "Erik's dad?"

"Sure," Heath looked confused, too. "His dad. Consort to Shekinah's number two?" He caught my feelings and the confusion on my face. "You didn't tell her?" he turned to Erik. "Dude!"

Erik shook his head irritably. "Who my father is isn't relevant. Let it go."

My mouth was dry. "I didn't think vampyres could have kids," I said stupidly. Something about the genetic change that let vamps live longer meant that our DNA just didn't combine right any more when it came to making babies. I heard some vamp commentator sometime say that was why vamps dominated the arts – because we can't make babies, we create other stuff. But if Erik's dad was a consort… "You're adopted?"

Erik shook his head. "No."

"Your dad hooked up with a vamp high priestess after he had you?" Erin asked.

"Whoa," Shawnee added.

Erik shook his head again, looking irritable and uncomfortable. "Fine. My dad was a liaison between the vamp high council and the human government in Venice. He became Aella's consort, I don't know the details. Part of Aella's responsibilities are overseeing the Houses, so Dad traveled with her a lot. Still does. He met my mom here in Tulsa. She teaches English and they were working on comparing the House curriculum to the work done in the human schools. They got married, had me, divorced, end of story."

My mind was reeling. Erik's dad was a consort, his mother was someone other than his priestess.

"I didn't know consorts could marry," I said, still shocked stupid.

"His priestess has a mate" he shrugged. "If a consort wants kids, that's the way it's done."

Heath would make a good dad. I couldn't look at him.

"Zo, you're not mad right? Erik's dad's priestess has a Mate and him, so I figured instead of talking to guys with broken bonds, I could get some good advice from someone who is living it. " Heath jumped in.

Aphrodite huffed and spoke for the first time this morning. "All this talk of family is making me all warm and fuzzy inside. Can we please talk about the apocalypse instead?" Darius came forward and put his hand on her shoulder. She leaned into him just slightly, and just for a second I saw a different kind of devotion on his face. I made a mental note to ask Aphrodite about him later. In the meantime, I could only be grateful for her interruption. Even though I was the one who started it, I did not want to explore the dynamics of my guys with everyone watching.

I turned away from them, looking for an escape. "Jack?" I asked.

"Kalona is in Vegas," he blurted out.

Sorry sorry sorry! I swore I'd have this done by the 21st and I just couldn't make the revelations come out in the right order! I think I've got it now, so I am going to try very very hard to get the next bit out faster. I promise I've been working! I've read Burned three times, but the newest Vampire Academy book came out on the 18th and I haven't let myself even start it until I finished this chapter! (And now that my writer's block VA story is turning into a full story, I won't let myself read Spirit Bound until I get a rough draft of two more important scenes for that fic. Yes, feel sorry for me ;-b – I just want to make sure I get my idea on paper before I find out the real story!)

Okay, sorry also for the long, rambling author's note!

So - what do you think of my guess into Erik's family and his past, how he got to know so much about vampyres and high priestesses, why he was trying to convince Heath that being a consort wasn't worth it, and why Erik is attracted to strong women like Aphrodite and Zoey (and maybe someone else… *hint* *hint*)? Guys are a lot like their fathers, not in a Freudian want-to-sleep-with-mom kind of way, but in finding the same kind of women attractive that dad finds attractive. One of my friends' dads left his mom when he was young, to date younger women. X doesn't want to be like dad, but it's kind of eerie and a little freaky how he picks younger women with personalities just like dad would like…

Thanks so much everyone for sticking with me and my story! I especially love you when you review!