Lissa stared at me when he left. “You’re under house arrest. They won’t let you hang out and talk to him.”
“I don’t really want to ‘talk’ to him. We’ll slip away.”
She groaned. “I just don’t know about you sometimes.”
“That’s because you’re the cautious one, and I’m the reckless one.”
Once animal behavior started, I pondered the likelihood of Mia being responsible. From the smug look on her psycho-angel face, she certainly seemed to be enjoying the sensation caused by the bloody fox. But that didn’t mean she was the culprit, and after observing her over the last couple of weeks, I knew she’d enjoy anything that upset Lissa and me. She didn’t need to be the one who had done it.
“Wolves, like many other species, differentiate their packs into alpha males and alpha females whom the others defer to. Alphas are almost always the strongest physically, though many times, confrontations turn out to be more a matter of willpower and personality. When an alpha is challenged and replaced, that wolf may find himself ostracized from the group or even attacked.”
I looked up from my daydreams and focused on Ms. Meissner.
“Most challenges are likely to occur during mating season,” she continued. This, naturally, brought snickers from the class. “In most packs, the alpha pair are the only ones who mate. If the alpha male is an older, seasoned wolf, a younger competitor may think he has a shot. Whether that is true works on a case-by-case basis. The young often don’t realize how seriously outclassed they are by the more experienced.”
The old-and-young-wolf thing notwithstanding, I thought the rest was pretty relevant. Certainly in the Academy’s social structure, I decided bitterly, there seemed to be a lot of alphas and challenges.
Mia raised her hand. “What about foxes? Do they have alphas too?”
There was a collective intake of breath from the class, followed by a few nervous giggles. No one could believe Mia had gone there.
Ms. Meissner flushed with what I suspected was anger. “We’re discussing wolves today, Miss Rinaldi.”
Mia didn’t seem to mind the subtle chastising, and when the class paired off to work on an assignment, she spent more time looking over at us and giggling. Through the bond, I could feel Lissa growing more and more upset as images of the fox kept flashing through her mind.
“Don’t worry,” I told her. “I’ve got a way—”
“Hey, Lissa,” someone interrupted.
We both looked up as Ralf Sarcozy stopped by our desks. He wore his trademark stupid grin, and I had a feeling he’d come over here on a dare from his friends.
“So, admit it,” he said. “You killed the fox. You’re trying to convince Kirova you’re crazy so that you can get out of here again.”
“Screw you,” I told him in a low voice.
“Are you offering?”
“From what I’ve heard, there isn’t much to screw,” I shot back.
“Wow,” he said mockingly. “You have changed. Last I remembered, you weren’t too picky about who you got naked with.”
“And the last I remember, the only people you ever saw naked were on the Internet.”
He cocked his head in an overly dramatic fashion. “Hey, I just got it: it was you, wasn’t it?” He looked at Lissa, the back at me. “She got you to kill the fox, didn’t she? Some weird kind of lesbian voo—ahhh!”
Ralf burst into flames.
I jumped up and pushed Lissa out of the way—not easy to do, since we were sitting at our desks. We both ended up on the floor as screams—Ralf’s in particular—filled the classroom and Ms. Meissner sprinted for the fire extinguisher.
And then, just like that, the flames disappeared. Ralf was still screaming and patting himself down, but he didn’t have a single singe mark on him. The only indication of what had happened was the lingering smell of smoke in the air.
For several seconds, the entire classroom froze. Then, slowly, everyone put the pieces together. Moroi magical specializations were well known, and after scanning the room, I deduced three fire users: Ralf, his friend Jacob, and—
Christian Ozera.
Since neither Jacob nor Ralf would have set Ralf on fire, it sort of made the culprit obvious. The fact that Christian was laughing hysterically sort of gave it away too. Ms. Meissner changed from red to deep purple. “Mr. Ozera!” she screamed. “How dare you—do you have any idea—report to Headmistress Kirova’s office now!”
Christian, completely unfazed, stood up and slung his backpack over one shoulder. That smirk stayed on his face. “Sure thing, Ms. Meissner.”
He went out of his way to walk past Ralf, who quickly backed away as he passed. The rest of the class stared, openmouthed.
After that, Ms. Meissner attempted to return the class to normal, but it was a lost cause. No one could stop talking about what had happened. It was shocking on a few different levels. First, no one had ever seen that kind of spell: a massive fire that didn’t actually burn anything. Second, Christian had used it offensively. He had attacked another person. Moroi never did that. They believed magic was meant to take care of the earth, to help people live better lives. It was never, ever used as a weapon. Magic instructors never taught those kinds of spells; I don’t think they even knew any. Finally, craziest of all, Christian had done it. Christian, whom no one ever noticed or gave a damn about. Well, they’d noticed him now.
It appeared someone still knew offensive spells after all, and as much as I had enjoyed the look of terror on Ralf’s face, it suddenly occurred to me that Christian might really and truly be a psycho.
“Liss,” I said as we walked out of class, “please tell me you haven’t hung out with him again.”
The guilt that flickered through the bond told me more than any explanation could.
“Liss!” I grabbed her arm.
“Not that much,” she said uneasily. “He’s really okay—”
“Okay? Okay?” People in the hall stared at us. I realized I was practically shouting. “He’s out of his mind. He set Ralf on fire. I thought we decided you weren’t going to see him anymore.”
“You decided, Rose. Not me.” There was an edge in her voice I hadn’t heard in a while.
“What’s going on here? Are you guys . . . you know? . . .”
“No!” she insisted. “I told you that already. God.” She shot me a look of disgust. “Not everyone thinks—and acts—like you.”
I flinched at the words. Then we noticed that Mia was passing by. She hadn’t heard the conversation but had caught the tone. A snide smile spread over her face. “Trouble in paradise?”
“Go find your pacifier, and shut the hell up,” I told her, not waiting to hear her response. Her mouth dropped open, then tightened into a scowl.
Lissa and I walked on in silence, and then Lissa burst out laughing. Like that, our fight diffused.
“Rose . . .” Her tone was softer now.
“Lissa, he’s dangerous. I don’t like him. Please be careful.”
She touched my arm. “I am. I’m the cautious one, remember? You’re the reckless one.”
I hoped that was still true.
But later, after school, I had my doubts. I was in my room doing homework when I felt a trickle of what could only be called sneakiness coming from Lissa. Losing track of my work, I stared off into space, trying to get a more detailed understanding of what was happening to her. If ever there was a time for me to slip into her mind, it was now, but I didn’t know how to control that.
Frowning, I tried to think what normally made that connection occur. Usually she was experiencing some strong emotion, an emotion so powerful it tried to blast into my mind. I had to work hard to fight against that; I always sort of kept a mental wall up.
Focusing on her now, I tried to remove the wall. I steadied my breathing and cleared my mind. My thoughts didn’t matter, only hers did. I needed to open myself to her and let us connect.
I’d never done anything like this before; I did
n’t have the patience for meditation. My need was so strong, however, that I forced myself into an intense, focused relaxation. I needed to know what was going on with her, and after a few more moments, my effort paid off.
I was in.
NINE
I SNAPPED INTO HER MIND, once again seeing and directly experiencing what went on around her.
She was sneaking into the chapel’s attic again, confirming my worst fears. Like last time, she met no resistance. Good God, I thought, could that priest be any worse about securing his own chapel?
Sunrise lit up the stained-glass window, and Christian’s silhouette was framed against it: he was sitting in the window seat.
“You’re late,” he told her. “Been waiting a while.”
Lissa pulled up one of the rickety chairs, brushing dust off it. “I figured you’d be tied up with Headmistress Kirova.”
He shook his head. “Not much to it. They suspended me for a week, that’s all. Not like it’s hard to sneak out.” He waved his hands around. “As you can see.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t get more time.”
A patch of sunlight lit up his crystal-blue eyes. “Disappointed?”
She looked shocked. “You set someone on fire!”
“No, I didn’t. Did you see any burns on him?”
“He was covered in flames.”
“I had them under control. I kept them off of him.”
She sighed. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
Straightening out of his lounging position, he sat up and leaned toward her. “I did it for you.”
“You attacked someone for me?”
“Sure. He was giving you and Rose a hard time. She was doing an okay job against him, I guess, but I figured she could use the backup. Besides, this’ll shut anyone else up about the whole fox thing, too.”
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she repeated, looking away. She didn’t know how to feel about this “generosity.” “And don’t act like it was all for me. You liked doing it. Part of you wanted to—just because.”
Christian’s smug expression dropped, replaced by one of uncharacteristic surprise. Lissa might not be psychic, but she had a startling ability to read people.
Seeing him off guard, she continued. “Attacking someone else with magic is forbidden—and that’s exactly why you wanted to do it. You got a thrill out of it.”
“Those rules are stupid. If we used magic as a weapon instead of just for warm and fuzzy shit, Strigoi wouldn’t keep killing so many of us.”
“It’s wrong,” she said firmly. “Magic is a gift. It’s peaceful.”
“Only because they say it is. You’re repeating the party line we’ve been fed our whole lives.” He stood up and paced the small space of the attic. “It wasn’t always that way, you know. We used to fight, right along with the guardians—centuries ago. Then people started getting scared and stopped. Figured it was safer to just hide. They forgot the attack spells.”
“Then how did you know that one?”
He crooked her a smile. “Not everyone forgot.”
“Like your family? Like your parents?”
The smile disappeared. “You don’t know anything about my parents.”
His face darkened, his eyes grew hard. To most people, he might have appeared scary and intimidating, but as Lissa studied and admired his features, he suddenly seemed very, very vulnerable.
“You’re right,” she admitted softly, after a moment. “I don’t. I’m sorry.”
For the second time in this meeting, Christian looked astonished. Probably no one apologized to him that often. Hell, no one even talked to him that often. Certainly no one ever listened. Like usual, he quickly turned into his cocky self.
“Forget it.” Abruptly, he stopped pacing and knelt in front of her so they could look each other in the eye. Feeling him so close made her hold her breath. A dangerous smile curled his lips. “And really, I don’t get why you of all people should act so outraged that I used ‘forbidden’ magic.”
“Me ‘of all people’? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You can play all innocent if you want—and you do a pretty good job—but I know the truth.”
“What truth is that?” She couldn’t hide her uneasiness from me or Christian.
He leaned even closer. “That you use compulsion. All the time.”
“No, I don’t,” she said immediately.
“Of course you do. I’ve been lying awake at night, trying to figure out how in the world you two were able to rent out a place and go to high school without anyone ever wanting to meet your parents. Then I figured it out. You had to be using compulsion. That’s probably how you broke out of here in the first place.”
“I see. You just figured it out. Without any proof.”
“I’ve got all the proof I need, just from watching you.”
“You’ve been watching me—spying on me—to prove I’m using compulsion?”
He shrugged. “No. Actually, I’ve been watching you just because I like it. The compulsion thing was a bonus. I saw you use it the other day to get an extension on that math assignment. And you used it on Ms. Carmack when she wanted to make you go through more testing.”
“So you assume it’s compulsion? Maybe I’m just really good at convincing people.” There was a defiant note in her voice: understandable, considering her fear and anger. Only she delivered it with a toss of her hair which—if I didn’t know any better—might have been considered flirtatious. And I did know better . . . right? Suddenly, I wasn’t sure.
He went on, but something in his eyes told me he’d noticed the hair, that he always noticed everything about her. “People get these goofy looks on their faces when you talk to them. And not just any people—you’re able to do it to Moroi. Probably dhampirs, too. Now that’s crazy. I didn’t even know that was possible. You’re some kind of superstar. Some kind of evil, compulsion-abusing superstar.” It was an accusation, but his tone and presence radiated the same flirtatiousness she had.
Lissa didn’t know what to say. He was right. Everything he’d said was right. Her compulsion was what had allowed us to dodge authority and get along in the world without adult help. It was what had allowed us to convince the bank to let her tap into her inheritance.
And it was considered every bit as wrong as using magic as a weapon. Why not? It was a weapon. A powerful one, one that could be abused very easily. Moroi children had it drilled into them from an early age that compulsion was very, very wrong. No one was taught to use it, though every Moroi technically had the ability. Lissa had just sort of stumbled into it—deeply—and, as Christian had pointed out, she could wield it over Moroi, as well as humans and dhampirs.
“What are you going to do then?” she asked. “You going to turn me in?”
He shook his head and smiled. “No. I think it’s hot.”
She stared, eyes widening and heart racing. Something about the shape of his lips intrigued her. “Rose thinks you’re dangerous,” she blurted out nervously. “She thinks you might have killed the fox.”
I didn’t know how I felt about being dragged into this bizarre conversation. Some people were scared of me. Maybe he was too.
Judging from the amusement in his voice when he spoke, it appeared he wasn’t. “People think I’m unstable, but I tell you, Rose is ten times worse. Of course, that makes it harder for people to fuck with you, so I’m all for it.” Leaning back on his heels, he finally broke the intimate space between them. “And I sure as hell didn’t do that. Find out who did, though . . . and what I did to Ralf won’t seem like anything.”
His gallant offer of creepy vengeance didn’t exactly reassure Lissa . . . but it did thrill her a little. “I don’t want you doing anything like that. And I still don’t know who did it.”
He leaned back toward her and caught her wrists in his hands. He started to say something, then stopped and looked down in surprise, running his thumbs over faint, barely there scars. Looking b
ack up at her, he had a strange—for him—kindness in his face.
“You might not know who did it. But you know something. Something you aren’t talking about.”
She stared at him, a swirl of emotions playing in her chest. “You can’t know all my secrets,” she murmured.
He glanced back down at her wrists and then released them, that dry smile of his back on his face. “No. I guess not.”
A feeling of peace settled over her, a feeling I thought only I could bring. Returning to my own head and my room, I sat on the floor staring at my math book. Then, for reasons I didn’t really get, I slammed it shut and threw it against the wall.
I spent the rest of the night brooding until the time I was supposed to meet Jesse came around. Slipping downstairs, I went into the kitchen—a place I could visit so long as I kept things brief—and caught his eye when I cut through the main visiting area.
Moving past him, I paused and whispered, “There’s a lounge on the fourth floor that nobody uses. Take the stairs on the other side of the bathrooms and meet me there in five minutes. The lock on the door is broken.”
He complied to the second, and we found the lounge dark, dusty, and deserted. The drop in guardian numbers over the years meant a lot of the dorm stayed empty, a sad sign for Moroi society but terribly convenient right now.
He sat down on the couch, and I lay back on it, putting my feet in his lap. I was still annoyed after Lissa and Christian’s bizarre attic romance and wanted nothing more than to forget about it for a while.
“You really here to study, or was it just an excuse?” I asked.
“No. It was real. Had to do an assignment with Meredith.” The tone in his voice indicated he wasn’t happy about that.
“Oooh,” I teased. “Is working with a dhampir beneath your royal blood? Should I be offended?”
He smiled, showing a mouth full of perfect white teeth and fangs. “You’re a lot hotter than she is.”
“Glad I make the cut.” There was a sort of a heat in his eyes that was turning me on, as was his hand sliding up my leg. But I needed to do something first. It was time for some vengeance. “Mia must too, since you guys let her hang out with you. She’s not royal.”
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