Stark barked a quick laugh and then sucked air painfully.

“Be still!” Darius commanded.

“Sister, I thought you said you guys had a doctor here.” I tried not to sound as panicky as I felt.

“A human doctor cannot help him,” Darius said before Sister Mary Angela could respond. “He needs rest and quiet and—”

“Rest and quiet are fine,” Stark interrupted him. “Like I said before: I’m not dead yet.” He met Darius’s eyes and I saw the Son of Erebus shrug and nod his head briefly, as if he’d conceded some point to the younger vampyre.

I should have just ignored the little interplay between them, but my patience had evaporated hours before. “Okay, what aren’t you telling me?”

The nun who’d been assisting Darius shot me a long, cold look and said, “Perhaps the injured boy needs to know his sacrifice was not made in vain.”

The nun’s harsh words gave me a jolt of guilty shock that closed my throat and didn’t let me respond to the hard-eyed woman. The sacrifice Stark had been willing to make was his life for mine. I swallowed past the dryness in my throat. What was my life worth? I was just a kid—barely seventeen. I’d messed up over and over again. I was the reincarnation of a girl created to trap a fallen angel, and that meant deep inside my soul I couldn’t help loving him, even when I knew I shouldn’t… couldn’t…

No. I wasn’t worth the sacrifice of Stark’s life.

“I already know it.” Stark’s voice didn’t waver; suddenly he sounded strong and sure. I blinked my vision free of tears and met his eyes. “What I did was just part of my job,” he said. “I’m a Warrior. I’ve sworn my life into the service of Zoey Redbird, High Priestess and Beloved of Nyx. That means I’m working for our Goddess and being knocked to the ground and burned a little really doesn’t mean shit if I helped Zoey beat the bad guys.”

“Well said, tsi-ta-ga-a-s-ha-ya,” Grandma told him.