“Man, you really are unstable.” He said it almost happily, but his next words were more serious. He still wore that sneer, still glowed with anger, but when he spoke, I could hear the faintest uneasiness in his voice. “He sort of elaborated on what was in your note. Got into a little more detail.”
“Oh, I get it. He said we had sex.” I didn’t need to mince words. Christian nodded. So. Jesse was trying to boost his own reputation. Okay. That I could deal with. Not like my reputation was that stellar to begin with. Everyone already believed I had sex all the time.
“And uh, Ralf too. That you and he—”
Ralf? No amount of alcohol or any illegal substance would make me touch him. “I—what? That I had sex with Ralf too?”
Christian nodded.
“That asshole! I’m going to—”
“There’s more.”
“How? Did I sleep with the basketball team?”
“He said—they both said—you let them . . . well, you let them drink your blood.”
That stopped even me. Drinking blood during sex. The dirtiest of the dirty. Sleazy. Beyond being easy or a slut. A gazillion times worse than Lissa drinking from me for survival. Blood-whore territory.
“That’s crazy!” Lissa cried. “Rose would never—Rose?”
But I wasn’t listening anymore. I was in my own world, a world that took me across the classroom to where Jesse and Ralf sat. They both looked up, faces half smug and half . . . nervous, if I had to guess. Not unexpected, since they were both lying through their teeth.
The entire class came to a standstill. Apparently they’d been expecting some type of showdown. My unstable reputation in action.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I asked in a low, dangerous voice.
Jesse’s nervous look turned to one of terror. He might have been taller than me, but we both knew who would win if I turned violent. Ralf, however, gave me a cocky smile.
“We didn’t do anything you didn’t want us to do.” His smiled turned cruel. “And don’t even think about laying a hand on us. You start a fight, and Kirova’ll kick you out to go live with the other blood whores.”
The rest of the students were holding their breaths, waiting to see what we’d do. I don’t know how Mr. Nagy could have been oblivious to the drama occurring in his class.
I wanted to punch both of them, hit them so hard that it’d make Dimitri’s brawl with Jesse look like a pat on the back. I wanted to wipe that smirk off Ralf’s face.
But asshole or not, he was right. If I touched them, Kirova would expel me in the blink of an eye. And if I got kicked out, Lissa would be alone. Taking a deep breath, I made one of the hardest decisions of my life.
I walked away.
The rest of the day was miserable. In backing down from the fight, I opened myself up to mockery from everyone else. The rumors and whispers grew louder. People stared at me openly. People laughed. Lissa kept trying to talk to me, to console me, but I ignored even her. I went through the rest of my classes like a zombie, and then I headed off to practice with Dimitri as fast I could. He gave me a puzzled look but didn’t ask any questions.
Alone in my room later on, I cried for the first time in years.
Once I got that out of my system, I was about to put on my pajamas when I heard a knock at my door. Dimitri. He studied my face and then glanced away, obviously aware I’d been crying. I could tell, too, that the rumors had finally reached him. He knew.
“Are you okay?”
“It doesn’t matter if I am, remember?” I looked up at him. “Is Lissa okay? This’ll be hard on her.”
A funny look crossed his face. I think it astonished him that I’d still be worried about her at a time like this. He beckoned me to follow and led me out to a back stairwell, one that usually stayed locked to students. But it was open tonight, and he gestured me outside. “Five minutes,” he warned.
More curious than ever, I stepped outside. Lissa stood there. I should have sensed she was close, but my own out-of-control feelings had obscured hers. Without a word, she put her arms around me and held me for several moments. I had to hold back more tears. When we broke apart, she looked at me with calm, level eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Not your fault. It’ll pass.”
She clearly doubted that. So did I.
“It is my fault,” she said. “She did it to get back at me.”
“She?”
“Mia. Jesse and Ralf aren’t smart enough to think of something like that on their own. You said it yourself: Jesse was too scared of Dimitri to talk much about what happened. And why wait until now? It happened a while ago. If he’d wanted to spread stuff around, he would have done it back then. Mia’s doing this as retaliation for you talking about her parents. I don’t know how she managed it, but she’s the one who got them to say those things.”
In my gut, I realized Lissa was right. Jesse and Ralf were the tools; Mia had been the mastermind.
“Nothing to be done now,” I sighed.
“Rose—”
“Forget it, Liss. It’s done, okay?”
She studied me quietly for a few seconds. “I haven’t seen you cry in a long time.”
“I wasn’t crying.”
A feeling of heartache and sympathy beat through to me from the bond.
“She can’t do this to you,” she argued.
I laughed bitterly, half surprised at my own hopeless-ness. “She already did. She said she’d get back at me, that I wouldn’t be able to protect you. She did it. When I go back to classes . . .” A sickening feeling settled in my stomach. I thought about the friends and respect I’d managed to eke out, despite our low profile. That would be gone. You couldn’t come back from something like this. Not among the Moroi. Once a blood whore, always a blood whore. What made it worse was that some dark, secret part of me did like being bitten.
“You shouldn’t have to keep protecting me,” she said.
I laughed. “That’s my job. I’m going to be your guardian.”
“I know, but I meant like this. You shouldn’t suffer because of me. You shouldn’t always have to look after me. And yet you always do. You got me out of here. You took care of everything when we were on our own. Even since coming back . . . you’ve always been the one who does all the work. Every time I break down—like last night—you’re always there. Me, I’m weak. I’m not like you.”
I shook my head. “That doesn’t matter. It’s what I do. I don’t mind.”
“Yeah, but look what happened. I’m the one she really has a grudge against—even though I still don’t know why. Whatever. It’s going to stop. I’m going to protect you from now on.”
There was a determination in her expression, a wonderful confidence radiating off of her that reminded me of the Lissa I’d known before the accident. At the same time, I could feel something else in her—something darker, a sense of deeply buried anger. I’d seen this side of her before too, and I didn’t like it. I didn’t want her tapping into it. I just wanted her to be safe.
“Lissa, you can’t protect me.”
“I can,” she said fiercely. “There’s one thing Mia wants more than to destroy you and me. She wants to be accepted. She wants to hang out with the royals and feel like she’s one of them. I can take that away from her.” She smiled. “I can turn them against her.”
“How?”
“By telling them.” Her eyes flashed.
My mind was moving too slowly tonight. It took me a while to catch on. “Liss—no. You can’t use compulsion. Not around here.”
“I might as well get some use out of these stupid powers.”
The more she uses it, the worse it’ll get. Stop her, Rose. Stop her before they notice, before they notice and take her away too. Get her out of here.
“Liss, if you get caught—”
Dimitri stuck his head out. “You’ve got to get back inside, Rose, before someone finds you.”
I shot a panicked lo
ok at Lissa, but she was already retreating. “I’ll take care of everything this time, Rose. Everything.”
THIRTEEN
THE AFTERMATH OF JESSE AND Ralf’s lies was about as horrible as I’d expected. The only way I survived was by putting blinders on, by ignoring everyone and everything. It kept me sane—barely—but I hated it. I felt like crying all the time. I lost my appetite and didn’t sleep well.
Yet, no matter how bad it got for me, I didn’t worry about myself as much as I did Lissa. She stood by her promise to change things. It was slow at first, but gradually, I would see a royal or two come up to her at lunch or in class and say hello. She’d turn on a brilliant smile, laughing and talking to them like they were all best friends.
At first, I didn’t understand how she was pulling it off. She’d told me she would use compulsion to win the other royals over and turn them against Mia. But I didn’t see it happening. It was possible, of course, that she was winning people over without compulsion. After all, she was funny, smart, and nice. Anyone would like her. Something told me she wasn’t winning friends the old-fashioned way, and I finally figured it out.
She was using compulsion when I wasn’t around. I only saw her for a small part of the day, and since she knew I didn’t approve, she only worked her power when I was away.
After a few days of this secret compulsion, I knew what I needed to do: I had to get back in her head again. By choice. I’d done it before; I could do it again.
At least, that’s what I told myself, sitting and spacing out in Stan’s class one day. But it wasn’t as easy as I’d thought it would be, partly because I felt too keyed up to relax and open myself to her thoughts. I also had trouble because I picked a time when she felt relatively calm. She came through the “loudest” when her emotions were running strong.
Still, I tried to do what I’d done before, back when I’d spied on her and Christian. The meditation thing. Slow breathing. Eyes closed. Mental focus like that still wasn’t easy for me, but at long last I managed the transition, slipping into her head and experiencing the world as hers. She stood in her American lit class, during project-work time, but, like most of the students, she wasn’t working. She and Camille Conta leaned against a wall on the far side of the room, talking in hushed voices.
“It’s gross,” said Camille firmly, a frown crossing her pretty face. She had on a blue skirt made of velvetlike fabric, short enough to show off her long legs and possibly raise eyes about the dress code. “If you guys were doing it, I’m not surprised she got addicted and did it with Jesse.”
“She didn’t do it with Jesse,” insisted Lissa. “And it’s not like we had sex. We just didn’t have any feeders, that’s all.” Lissa focused her full attention on Camille and smiled. “It’s no big deal. Everyone’s overreacting.”
Camille looked like she seriously doubted this, and then, the more she stared at Lissa, the more unfocused her eyes became. A blank look fell over her.
“Right?” asked Lissa, voice like silk. “It’s not a big deal.”
The frown returned. Camille tried to shake the compulsion. That fact that it’d even gotten this far was incredible. As Christian had observed, using it on Moroi was unheard of.
Camille, although strong-willed, lost the battle. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “It’s really not that big a deal.”
“And Jesse’s lying.”
She nodded. “Definitely lying.”
A mental strain burned inside of Lissa as she held onto the compulsion. It took a lot of effort, and she wasn’t finished.
“What are you guys doing tonight?”
“Carly and I are going to study for Mattheson’s test in her room.”
“Invite me.”
Camille thought about it. “Hey, you want to study with us?”
“Sure,” said Lissa, smiling at her. Camille smiled back.
Lissa dropped the compulsion, and a wave of dizziness swept over her. She felt weak. Camille glanced around, momentarily surprised, then shook off the weirdness. “See you after dinner then.”
“See you,” murmured Lissa, watching her walk away. When Camille was gone, Lissa reached up to tie her hair up in a ponytail. Her fingers couldn’t quite get all the hair through, and suddenly, another pair of hands caught hold and helped her. She spun around and found herself staring into Christian’s ice-blue eyes. She jerked away from him.
“Don’t do that!” she exclaimed, shivering at the realization that it had been his fingers touching her.
He gave her his lazy, slightly twisted smile and brushed a few pieces of unruly black hair out of his face. “Are you asking me or ordering me?”
“Shut up.” She glanced around, both to avoid his eyes and make sure no one saw them together.
“What’s the matter? Worried about what your slaves’ll think if they see you talking to me?”
“They’re my friends,” she retorted.
“Oh. Right. Of course they are. I mean, from what I saw, Camille would probably do anything for you, right? Friends till the end.” He crossed his arms over his chest, and in spite of her anger, she couldn’t help but notice how the silvery gray of his shirt set off his black hair and blue eyes.
“At least she isn’t like you. She doesn’t pretend to be my friend one day and then ignore me for no reason.”
An uncertain look flickered across his features. Tension and anger had built up between them in the last week, ever since I’d yelled at Christian after the royal reception. Believing what I’d told him, Christian had stopped talking to her and had treated her rudely every time she’d tried to start a conversation. Now, hurt and confused, she’d given up attempts at being nice. The situation just kept getting worse and worse.
Looking out through Lissa’s eyes, I could see that he still cared about her and still wanted her. His pride had been hurt, however, and he wasn’t about to show weakness.
“Yeah?” he said in a low, cruel voice. “I thought that was the way all royals were supposed to act. You certainly seem to be doing a good job with it. Or maybe you’re just using compulsion on me to make me think you’re a two-faced bitch. Maybe you really aren’t. But I doubt it.”
Lissa flushed at the word compulsion—and cast another worried look around—but decided not to give him the satisfaction of arguing anymore. She simply gave him one last glare before storming off to join a group of royals huddled over an assignment
Returning to myself, I stared blankly around the classroom, processing what I’d seen. Some tiny, tiny part of me was starting to feel sorry for Christian. It was only a tiny part, though, and very easy to ignore.
At the beginning of the next day, I headed out to meet Dimitri. These practices were my favorite part of the day now, partly because of my stupid crush on him and partly because I didn’t have to be around the others.
He and I started with running as usual, and he ran with me, quiet and almost gentle in his instructions, probably worried about causing some sort of breakdown. He knew about the rumors somehow, but he never mentioned them.
When we finished, he led me through an offensive exercise where I could use any makeshift weapons I could find to attack him. To my surprise, I managed to land a few blows on him, although they seemed to do me more damage than him. The impacts always made me stagger back, but he never budged. It still didn’t stop me from attacking and attacking, fighting with an almost blind rage. I didn’t know who I really fought in those moments: Mia or Jesse or Ralf. Maybe all of them.
Dimitri finally called a break. We carried the equipment we’d used on the field and returned everything to the supply room. While putting it away, he glanced at me and did a double take.
“Your hands.” He swore in Russian. I could recognize it by now, but he refused to teach me what any of it meant. “Where are your gloves?”
I looked down at my hands. They’d suffered for weeks, and today had only made them worse. The cold had turned the skin raw and chapped, and some parts were actually bleeding a little. M
y blisters swelled. “Don’t have any. Never needed them in Portland.”
He swore again and beckoned me to a chair while he retrieved a first-aid kit. Wiping away the blood with a wet cloth, he told me gruffly, “We’ll get you some.”
I looked down at my destroyed hands as he worked. “This is only the start, isn’t it?”
“Of what?”
“Me. Turning into Alberta. Her . . . and all the other female guardians. They’re all leathery and stuff. Fighting and training and always being outdoors—they aren’t pretty anymore.” I paused. “This . . . this life. It destroys them. Their looks, I mean.”
He hesitated for a moment and looked up from my hands. Those warm brown eyes surveyed me, and something tightened in my chest. Damn it. I had to stop feeling this way around him. “It won’t happen to you. You’re too . . .” He groped for the right word, and I mentally substituted all sorts of possibilities. Goddesslike. Scorchingly sexy. Giving up, he simply said, “It won’t happen to you.”
He turned his attention back to my hands. Did he . . . did he think I was pretty? I never doubted the reaction I caused among guys my own age, but with him, I didn’t know. The tightening in my chest increased.
“It happened to my mom. She used to be beautiful. I guess she still is, sort of. But not the way she used to be.” Bitterly, I added, “Haven’t seen her in a while. She could look completely different for all I know.”
“You don’t like your mother,” he observed.
“You noticed that, huh?”
“You barely know her.”
“That’s the point. She abandoned me. She left me to be raised by the Academy.”
When he finished cleaning my open wounds, he found a jar of salve and began rubbing it into the rough parts of my skin. I sort of got lost in the feel of his hands massaging mine.
“You say that . . . but what else should she have done? I know you want to be a guardian. I know how much it means to you. Do you think she feels any differently? Do you think she should have quit to raise you when you’d spend most of your life here anyway?”
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