“Wait . . . Christian.” I called out to him. Damn, I was so late for training. Dimitri was going to kill me.
Christian spun around to face me, hands stuffed in the pockets of his long black coat, his posture slumped and uncaring.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for the books.” He didn’t say anything. “The ones you gave to Mason.”
“Oh, I thought you meant the other books.”
Smartass. “Aren’t you going to ask what they were for?”
“Your business. Just figured you were bored being suspended.”
“I’d have to be pretty bored for that.”
He didn’t laugh at my joke. “What do you want, Rose? I’ve got places to be.”
I knew he was lying, but my sarcasm no longer seemed as funny as usual. “I want you to, uh, hang out with Lissa again.”
“Are you serious?” He studied me closely, suspicion all over him. “After what you said to me?”
“Yeah, well . . . Didn’t Mason tell you? . . .”
Christian’s lips turned up into a sneer. “He told me something.”
“And?”
“And I don’t want to hear it from Mason.” His sneer cranked up when I glared. “You sent him to apologize for you. Step up and do it yourself.”
“You’re a jerk,” I informed him.
“Yeah. And you’re a liar. I want to see you eat your pride.”
“I’ve been eating my pride for two weeks,” I growled.
Shrugging, he turned around and started to walk away.
“Wait!” I called, putting my hand on his shoulder. He stopped and looked back at me. “All right, all right. I lied about how she felt. She never said any of that stuff about you, okay? She likes you. I made it up because I don’t like you.”
“And yet you want me to talk to her.”
When the next words left my lips, I could barely believe it. “I think . . . you might be . . . good for her.”
We stared at each other for several heavy moments. His smirk dried up a little. Not much surprised him. This did.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you. Can you repeat that?” he finally asked.
I almost punched him in the face. “Will you stop it already? I want you to hang out with her again.”
“No.”
“Look, I told you, I lied—”
“It’s not that. It’s her. You think I can talk to her now? She’s Princess Lissa again.” Venom dripped off his words. “I can’t go near her, not when she’s surrounded by all those royals.”
“You’re royal too,” I said, more to myself than him. I kept forgetting the Ozeras were one of the twelve families.
“Doesn’t mean much in a family full of Strigoi, huh?”
“But you’re not—wait. That’s why she connects to you,” I realized with a start.
“Because I’m going to become a Strigoi?” he asked snidely.
“No . . . because you lost your parents too. Both of you saw them die.”
“She saw hers die. I saw mine murdered.”
I flinched. “I know. I’m sorry. it must have been . . . well, I don’t have any idea what it was like.”
Those crystal-blue eyes went unfocused. “It was like seeing an army of Death invade my house.”
“You mean . . . your parents?”
He shook his head. “The guardians who came to kill them. I mean, my parents were scary, yeah, but they still looked like my parents—a little paler, I guess. Some red in their eyes. But they walked and talked the same way. I didn’t know anything was wrong with them, but my aunt did. She was watching me when they came for me.”
“Were they going to convert you?” I’d forgotten my original mission here, too caught up in the story. “You were really little.”
“I think they were going to keep me until I was older, then turn me. Aunt Tasha wouldn’t let them take me. They tried to reason with her, convert her too, but when she wouldn’t listen, they tried to take her by force. She fought them—got really messed up—and then the guardians showed up.” His eyes drifted back to me. He smiled, but there was no happiness in it. “Like I said, an army of Death. I think you’re crazy, Rose, but if you turn out like the rest of them, you’re going to be able to do some serious damage one day. Even I won’t mess with you.”
I felt horrible. He’d had a miserable life, and I’d taken away one of the few good things in it. “Christian, I’m sorry for screwing things up between you and Lissa. It was stupid. She wanted to be with you. I think she still does now. If you could just—”
“I told you, I can’t.”
“I’m worried about her. She’s into all this royal stuff because she thinks it’s going to get back at Mia—she’s doing it for me.”
“And you aren’t grateful?” The sarcasm returned.
“I’m worried. She can’t handle playing all these catty political games. It isn’t good for her, but she won’t listen to me. I could . . . I could use help.”
“She could use help. Hey, don’t look so surprised—I know there’s something funny going on with her. And I’m not even talking about the wrist thing.”
I jumped. “Did she tell you? . . .” Why not? She’d told him everything else.
“She didn’t need to,” he said. “I’ve got eyes.” I must have looked pathetic, because he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, if I catch Lissa alone . . . I’ll try to talk to her. But honestly . . . if you really want to help her . . . well, I know I’m supposed to be all anti-establishment, but you might get the best help talking to somebody else. Kirova. Your guardian guy. I don’t know. Someone who knows something. Someone you trust.”
“Lissa wouldn’t like that.” I considered. “Neither would I.”
“Yeah, well, we all have to do things we don’t like. That’s life.”
My snarky switch flipped on. “What are you, an after-school special?”
A ghostly smile flickered across his face. “If you weren’t so psychotic, you’d be fun to hang around.”
“Funny, I feel that way about you too.”
He didn’t say anything else, but the smile grew, and he walked away.
SEVENTEEN
A FEW DAYS LATER, LISSA found me outside the commons and delivered the most astonishing news.
“Uncle Victor’s getting Natalie off campus this weekend to go shopping in Missoula. For the dance. They said I could come along.”
I didn’t say anything. She looked surprised at my silence.
“Isn’t that cool?”
“For you, I guess. No malls or dances in my future.”
She smiled excitedly. “He told Natalie she could bring two other people besides me. I convinced her to bring you and Camille.”
I threw up my hands. “Well, thanks, but I’m not even supposed to go to the library after school. No one’s going to let me go to Missoula.”
“Uncle Victor thinks he can get Headmistress Kirova to let you go. Dimitri’s trying too.”
“Dimitri?”
“Yeah. He has to go with me if I leave campus.” She grinned, taking my interest in Dimitri as interest in the mall. “They figured out my account finally—I got my allowance back. So we can buy other stuff along with dresses. And you know if they let you go to the mall, they’ll have to let you go to the dance.”
“Do we go to dances now?” I said. We never had before. School-sponsored social events? No way.
“Of course not. But you know there’ll be all kinds of secret parties. We’ll start at the dance and sneak off.” She sighed happily. “Mia’s so jealous she can barely stand it.”
She went on about all the stores we’d go to, all the things we’d buy. I admit, I was kind of excited at the thought of getting some new clothes, but I doubted I’d actually get this mythical release.
“Oh hey,” she said excitedly. “You should see these shoes Camille let me borrow. I never knew we wore the same size. Hang on.” She opened her backpack and began rifling through it.
It was one of the pale brown mourning doves that sat on wires along the freeway and under trees on campus. It had so much blood on it that I couldn’t figure out where the wound was. Who knew something so small even had that much blood? Regardless, the bird was definitely dead.
Covering her mouth, Lissa stared wordlessly, eyes wide.
“Son of a bitch,” I swore. Without hesitating, I grabbed a stick and pushed the little feathered body aside. When it was out of the way, I started shoving her stuff back into the backpack, trying not to think about dead-bird germs. “Why the hell does this keep—Liss!”
I leapt over and grabbed her, pulling her away. She had been kneeling on the ground, with her hand outstretched to the dove. I don’t think she’d even realized what she was about to do. The instinct in her was so strong, it acted on its own.
“Lissa,” I said, tightening my hand around hers. She was still leaning toward the bird. “Don’t. Don’t do it.”
“I can save it.”
“No, you can’t. You promised, remember? Some things have to stay dead. Let this one go.” Still feeling her tension, I pleaded. “Please, Liss. You promised. No more healings. You said you wouldn’t. You promised me.”
After a few more moments, I felt her hand relax and her body slump against mine. “I hate this, Rose. I hate all of this.”
Natalie walked outside then, oblivious to the gruesome sight awaiting her.
“Hey, do you guys—oh my God!” she squealed, seeing the dove. “What is that?”
I helped Lissa as we rose to our feet. “Another, um, prank.”
“Is it . . . dead?” She scrunched up her face in disgust.
“Yes,” I said firmly.
Natalie, picking up on our tension, looked between the two of us. “What else is wrong?”
“Nothing.” I handed Lissa her backpack. “This is just someone’s stupid, sick joke, and I’m going to tell Kirova so they can clean this up.”
Natalie turned away, looking a little green. “Why do people keep doing this to you? It’s horrible.”
Lissa and I exchanged looks.
“I have no idea,” I said. Yet as I walked to Kirova’s office, I started to wonder.
When we’d found the fox, Lissa had hinted that someone must know about the raven. I hadn’t believed that. We’d been alone in the woods that night, and Ms. Karp wouldn’t have told anyone. But what if someone actually had seen? What if someone kept doing this not to scare her, but to see if she’d heal again? What had the rabbit note said? I know what you are.
I didn’t mention any of this to Lissa; I figured there were only so many of my conspiracy theories she could handle. Besides, when I saw her the next day, she’d practically forgotten the dove in light of other news: Kirova had given me permission to go on the trip that weekend. The prospect of shopping can brighten a lot of dark situations—even animal murder—and I put my own worries on hold.
Only, when the time came, I discovered my release came with strings attached.
“Headmistress Kirova thinks you’ve done well since coming back,” Dimitri told me.
“Aside from starting a fight in Mr. Nagy’s class?”
“She doesn’t blame you for that. Not entirely. I convinced her you needed a break . . . and that you could use this as a training exercise.”
“Training exercise?”
He gave me a brief explanation as we walked out to meet the others going with us. Victor Dashkov, as sickly as ever, was there with his guardians, and Natalie practically barreled into him. He smiled and gave her a careful hug, one that ended when a coughing fit took over. Natalie’s eyes went wide with concern as she waited for it to pass.
He claimed he was fine to accompany us, and while I admired his resolve, I thought he’d be putting himself through a lot just to shop with a bunch of teenage girls.
We rode out the two-hour trip to Missoula in a large school van, leaving just after sunrise. Many Moroi lived separately from humans, but many also lived among them, and when shopping at their malls, you had to go during their hours. The back windows of the van had tinted glass to filter the light and keep the worst of it away from the vampires.
We had nine people in our group: Lissa, Victor, Natalie, Camille, Dimitri, me, and three other guardians. Two of the guardians, Ben and Spiridon, always traveled with Victor. The third was one of the school’s guardians: Stan, the jerk who’d humiliated me on my first day back.
“Camille and Natalie don’t have personal guardians yet,” Dimitri explained to me. “They’re both under the protection of their families’ guardians. Since they are Academy students leaving campus, a school guardian accompanies them—Stan. I go because I’m Lissa’s assigned guardian. Most girls her age wouldn’t have a personal guardian yet, but circumstances make her unusual.”
I sat in the back of the van with him and Spiridon, so they could dispense guardian wisdom to me as part of the “training exercise.” Ben and Stan sat up front, while the others sat in the middle. Lissa and Victor talked to each other a lot, catching up on news. Camille, raised to be polite among older royals, smiled and nodded along. Natalie, on the other hand, looked left out and kept trying to shift her father’s attention from Lissa. It didn’t work. He’d apparently learned to tune out her chatter.
I turned back to Dimitri. “She’s supposed to have two guardians. Princes and princesses always do.”
Spiridon was Dimitri’s age, with spiky blond hair and a more casual attitude. Despite his Greek name, he had a Southern drawl. “Don’t worry, she’ll have plenty when the time comes. Dimitri’s already one of them. Odds are you’ll be one too. And that’s why you’re here today.”
“The training part,” I guessed.
“Yup. You’re going to be Dimitri’s partner.”
A moment of funny silence fell, probably not noticeable to anyone except Dimitri and me. Our eyes met.
“Guarding partner,” Dimitri clarified unnecessarily, like maybe he too had been thinking of other kinds of partners.
“Yup,” agreed Spiridon.
Oblivious to the tension around him, he went on to explain how guardian pairs worked. It was standard stuff, straight from my textbooks, but it meant more now that I’d be doing it in the real world. Guardians were assigned to Moroi based on importance. Two was a common grouping, one I’d probably work in a lot with Lissa. One guardian stayed close to the target; the other stood back and kept an eye on the surroundings. Boringly, those holding these positions were called near and far guards.
“You’ll probably always be near guard,” Dimitri told me. “You’re female and the same age as the princess. You can stay close to her without attracting any attention.”
“And I can’t ever take my eyes off her,” I noted. “Or you.”
Spiridon laughed again and elbowed Dimitri. “You’ve got a star student there. Did you give her a stake?”
“No. She’s not ready.”
“I would be if someone would show me how to use one,” I argued. I knew every guardian in the van had a stake and a gun concealed on him.
“More to it than just using the stake,” said Dimitri in his old-and-wise way. “You’ve still got to subdue them. And you’ve got to bring yourself to kill them.”
“Why wouldn’t I kill them?”
“Most Strigoi used to be Moroi who purposely turned. Sometimes they’re Moroi or dhampirs turned by force. It doesn’t matter. There’s a strong chance you might know one of them. Could you kill someone you used to know?”
This trip was getting less fun by the minute.
“I guess so. I’d have to, right? If it’s them or Lissa...”
“You might still hesitate,” said Dimitri. “And that hesitation could kill you. And her.”
“Then how do you make sure you don’t hesitate?”
“You have to keep telling yourself that they aren’t the same people you knew. T
hey’ve become something dark and twisted. Something unnatural. You have to let go of attachments and do what’s right. If they have any grain of their former selves left, they’ll probably be grateful.”
“Grateful for me killing them?”
“If someone turned you into a Strigoi, what would you want?” he asked.
I didn’t know how to answer that, so I said nothing. Never taking his eyes off me, he kept pushing.
“What would you want if you knew you were going to be converted into a Strigoi against your will? If you knew you would lose all sense of your old morals and understanding of what’s right and wrong? If you knew you’d live the rest of your life—your immortal life—killing innocent people? What would you want?”
The van had grown uncomfortably silent. Staring at Dimitri, burdened by all those questions, I suddenly understood why he and I had this weird attraction, good looks aside.
I’d never met anyone else who took being a guardian so seriously, who understand all the life-and-death consequences. Certainly no one my age did yet; Mason hadn’t been able to understand why I couldn’t relax and drink at the party. Dimitri had said I grasped my duty better than many older guardians, and I didn’t get why—especially when they would have seen so much more death and danger. But I knew in that moment that he was right, that I had some weird sense of how life and death and good and evil worked with each other.
So did he. We might get lonely sometimes. We might have to put our “fun” on hold. We might not be able to live the lives we wanted for ourselves. But that was the way it had to be. We understood each other, understood that we had others to protect. Our lives would never be easy.
And making decisions like this one was part of that.
“If I became Strigoi . . . I’d want someone to kill me.”
“So would I,” he said quietly. I could tell that he’d had the same flash of realization I’d just had, that same sense of connection between us.
“It reminds me of Mikhail hunting Sonya,” murmured Victor thoughtfully.
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