**AN: I know, I know… it's been awhile. Plus, side: the wait is over, here is Chapter 6. Happy Reading! NC**

Loren

The flight home was a long one, despite me staying as far away from Mr. Night as possible. His voice carried, and even when he wasn't speaking of Zoey, he was irritating me. The boy oozed arrogance in waves that rivaled a tsunami. The females fawned over him, although I don't know why. He was in complete contrast to Zoey. Where she was light brushstrokes and deep colors, he was simple lines no more complex than that of a stick figure drawing.

I was completely appalled at his lack of manners, considering his ability to sweep women off their feet. At least simple minded women, that are too dim-witted to see his lack of personality, inability to trust, and self-obsession. I sighed. I would have to be careful with such bold faced accusations as that. Zoey was one of the women that had fallen for his charms.

Perhaps that was the answer. Maybe it wasn't the women. Maybe it was him. His acting skills are profound, and if I've heard it once, I've heard it a thousand times: never trust a man that boasts about his acting skills. Perhaps these women merely underestimated his acting ability. That child could charm the pants off a homeless man if he wanted to. I couldn't have Zoey exposed to that form of treachery. That mindless asshole's games were not to be used on the Cherokee goddess that had enraptured my soul.

I was left with only two choices:

Cross the unwritten boundaries between student and teacher, and personally save Zoey from Erik as I would wish.

Or

Kill Erik.

The second option was looking like the easiest, not to mention it would be personally fun. Not that being with Zoey wouldn't be fun. But I would rather put myself through a High Council murder trial than put Zoey through any more stress and pain. Plus, again, killing Erik would be fun. I know my mama wouldn't be proud of me for it but, well… who knows? Maybe she would. I sighed and shook my head. No. I couldn't insult my mother's memory by trying to say she would condone and be proud of me murdering an innocent boy. Innocent in the meaning that he hasn't committed a crime. Which bring us to the fact that, unfortunately, being stupid isn't a crime nor is being an asshole.

Thankfully, the plane landed before I could decide whether or not I wanted plan A or B. Well, thankfully for Erik—because at the time I was leaning towards both.

All I had to endure was the short ride back to the House of Night and then I could curl up in my massive bed in the poet's loft and snooze away the rest of the day. That is… if it's still my loft.

My activities prior to my departure for this trip reconnected to my memory as we pulled into the school parking lot. Part of me wondered if I even had a loft anymore. I wouldn't be surprised to walk in to my apartment and find all of my things packed and gone. Or worse: not being able to get into my apartment at all.

A million and one possibilities flowed through my mind, each worse than the previous. It went as far as probation, to death, to on the run from the Sons of Erebus. I was running more scenarios than a D&D dungeon master.

What? 'Dungeons and Dragons' was big in my family.

Anyway, there were a lot of possibilities that could potentially occur and none of them were good.

As I stepped out of the SUV into the dark night shrouding my home I noticed there wasn't a single person waiting to greet us. A breath of relief I didn't know I was holding escaped my lungs and I instantly relaxed. If I had been fired or lost my loft, a teacher would be here to inform me of it. As we all stretched and grabbed our things from the car, I looked around the school, saving in every detail and etching it into my memories.

The multi-shaded mahogany cobble stones decorated the exterior, making the school look every bit the ancient castle. Windows, as black as the sky, peppered the school building, giving it a futuristic impression. It was a mixture of past and present with rivers and valleys of different times and cultures weaving in and out. The stone statue of Nyx in front of her temple looked vaguely Roman, while the fountains and gardens could compare to miniatures of those in England and France. There was a curving sweep to the place that was welcoming, unlike the straight angular lines of common public schools. The House of Night was a mixture of light and dark, past and future, expression and monotonicity.

"Alright, listen up!" Professor Nolan's high projecting voice penetrated my thoughts and compelled me to turn towards her. The fledglings gathered around her like moths to a flame as she continued, "The assembly will start in an hour. Each of you will go on in the same order you were in at New York. Remember, perform your speech," she held up her right hand and ticked off a finger after each task, "bow, smile, wave, and leave the stage for the next person. We are on a schedule because of the Dark Daughter's ritual tonight. Which is open house for any of you who might be interested."

I heard a few murmurs of curiosity in the crowd before she silenced them, "Now, you have ten minutes to deposit your things in your dorm rooms and meet me backstage. Got it?" I watched the obedient fledglings nod their heads before she waved her hands towards the school and said, "Well, then, go on." Smiling like a mother would at her child; she watched the students flock to the House of Night, rushing past each other excitedly.

And for once, I wished I was one of them. This connection, this bond I have with the High Priestess in training was nonsensical. I was compelled by her, drawn to her against my will and my thought constantly lingered on her every breath and expression. All of this would be so simple if I was a regular fledgling. I sighed, only furthered depressed by the knowledge that I would, in fact, not get to retire to my comfy loft for the evening.

"Professor Blake?" I shook my head as Nolan's Texas twang broke through my thoughts a second time.

"Hmmm?" I brilliantly replied.

"Are you okay? You seem the littlest bit distracted there." She wrapped one hand around the handle to her bag and began rolling it towards the apartments.

"Oh, yes. My—um—head is still back in New York, I suppose," I mustered what I thought was a convincing smile, but it apparently wasn't convincing enough.

Nolan looked at me worried. "Why don't you rest up for a bit? This has probably been a rough weekend for you. The boys are always a little more stressful than the girls during these trips. Well, except of course the Monologue Contest of sixty-three. Whew! That one was the highest level of rough. But that's a story for another time," she chuckled. "Anyways," she continued, "You look worn out. Go rest. There really wasn't anything for you to do at the assembly anyway. Unless you wanted to watch them all again?" her light laughter danced through the air.

I nodded, realizing during her offer that I was actually exhausted. I smiled tiredly and with a small, "Thank you," I retreated to my sanctuary. When I nudged the door open with my foot and flicked on the lights, the first thing I noticed was the stream of papers leading into the main room. I sighed, chucking my house keys into the glass bowl on the table beside the door and kicked my shoes off. As I walked into the main room, I took in the mess around me. Well, it wasn't really a mess, but there were papers everywhere. It looked like a papier-mâché floor.

For some reason I just snapped. I grabbed a trash bag from the box under the sink and rushed around the room grabbing up large piles of it and throwing it in the bag. I had to get rid of all of it. I just couldn't stand having it in my apartment. All of it, all of it had to go and now. I yanked sheet upon sheet from my floors, and in the end, I probably had enough paper for an entire tree. I stared around my apartment, searching for any sign, any hint, of another traitorous piece of evidence that proclaimed my unreasonable affection.

When at last I deemed the place clean of it all, I clutched the bag tighter in my hand. What do I do with it? I couldn't burn it. That would look too suspicious. I couldn't just throw it away. It would be like throwing away my heart. Each poem was permanently and delicately etched into my soul. Each word, each letter was a part of me as much as my own limbs. Poetry could quite well be my goddess-given talent. Well, I couldn't have the wretched poems chipping away at my sanity and soul. I couldn't get rid of them, but I couldn't have them anywhere in my sight.

I gazed around my apartment again, this time searching for a place to shove these torturous mementos of an unspoken and nonexistent relationship. When my eyes finally rested on the slightly open door to my walk-in closet, I knew I found my answer. The back corner of my closet was filled with cardboard boxes I had yet to unpack. I ripped open the tape that bounded the top box closed and mercilessly tossed in the trash bag of poems. Out of sight, out of mind, my thoughts whispered comfortingly.

With my mission complete, I crumpled exhausted into the large wrought iron bed that occupied most of my bedroom space. "Oh goddess, what am I going to do about this mess?" I prayed more to myself and the ceiling above me than anything else.

I tucked myself under the deep red comforter that covered my bed and flipped off the lamp on my night stand before drifting off to sleep.

Or at least I thought I went to sleep.

When I opened my eyes I was standing in a picturesque little town with cobbled streets and stone buildings. I could smell the ocean water and hear the birds chirping. As I walked down the road taking in the little bistros and shops I felt completely blissful, like nothing could go wrong. I veered off course at the end of the cobbled path, walking into the woods before arriving at a small cozy meadow of sorts. Flowers galore bordered the edges of this tiny circle in the woods. The greenest grass peeked up from the earth, forming a soft cushion. Trees, tall and wide, poked through the ground, rising above me and bowing over the clearing. Through the green leaves the sunlight shimmered an emerald mist upon it, making this tiny space all the more heavenly.

None of the beauty of this goddess designed place even compared to that of the beauty stretched out on the grass blanket in front of me. She was a goddess in her own right, powerful, young, vibrate. She was a Monet, bursting with color yet keeping the soft subtleness of luminosity and persuasion. In her I saw brushstrokes of passion, color with vivacity and affection, yet the gentle persuasive fire that burn in her stubborn hazel eyes vexed me.

Everything about the creature lounging peacefully before me entranced my poetic soul. It reminded me so diligently of the passion for words I once possessed, pulled me from the tight grasp of inhumanity I was experiencing as a self proclaimed outsider.

"Do you plan to stare all day? Or are you going to join me, love?" She chuckled; a musical ringing that seemed to harmonize with the beautiful bird song that surrounded us.

I smiled and nodded my head, letting the words I had not chosen pour from my mouth, "Indeed, love. I find your beauty far too compelling to move from this spot." I wanted to smack my hand over my mouth and run for it, but I just smiled, feeling the crinkles in the corners of my eyes emerge as I gazed at her lovingly.

Zoey laughed lightly, her face forming a smile that caused my heart to sing, "Well, perhaps I should remove myself from your company. It is far too lovely a day for you to not be enjoying it as thoroughly as I."

I felt my head shake and my feet move forward before I plopped down on the soft earth beside her. Zoey rolled over, pressing herself against my side and letting her head rest on my chest and her hand press just above my stomach. I watched her face as she drifted her eyes closed and appeared to fall asleep.

This was my world, I thought to myself. I didn't know why, but it was. She and I were meant to be together and I could not argue it any longer. I sighed happily and let my lips graze the bright sapphire crescent on her forehead before closing my eyes and falling asleep in my dream next to Zoey.

**AN: Review! That is all I ask. Thank you =) NC**