Vampire Academy: The Complete Collection: 1/6

by Richelle Mead

  The young guy scowled at the word pretend, and I wondered if more fists would fly. “You owe it to us.”

  “No, they don’t,” said Lissa.

  Intrigued gazes turned her way again. This time, it was Silver Hair who regarded her triumphantly. The younger guy’s features flushed with anger.

  “Guardians are the best battle resources we have.”

  “They are,” she agreed, “but that doesn’t give you the right to take them away from their duty.” Silver Hair practically glowed.

  “Then how are we supposed to learn?” demanded the other guy.

  “The same way guardians do,” Lissa informed him. “If you want to learn to fight, go to the academies. Form classes and start at the beginning, the same way the novices do. That way, you won’t be taking guardians away from active protection. It’s a safe environment, and the guardians there specialize in teaching students anyway.” She paused thoughtfully. “You could even start making defense part of the standard curriculum for Moroi students already there.”

  Astonished stares fell on her, mine included. It was such an elegant solution, and everyone else around us realized it. It gave no party 100 percent of its demands, but it met most in a way that didn’t really harm the other side. Pure genius. The other Moroi studied her with wonder and fascination.

  Suddenly, everyone started talking at once, excited about the idea. They drew Lissa in, and soon there was a passionate conversation going on about her plan. I got shuffled to the edges and decided that was just fine. Then I retreated altogether and sought out a corner near a door.

  Along the way, I passed a server with a tray of hors d’oeuvres. Still hungry, I eyed them suspiciously but saw nothing that looked like the foie gras from the other day. I gestured to one that looked like some sort of braised, rare meat.

  “Is that goose liver?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Sweetbread.”

  That didn’t sound bad. I reached for it.

  “It’s pancreas,” said a voice behind me. I jerked back.

  “What?” I squeaked. The waitress took my shock for rejection and moved on.

  Adrian Ivashkov moved into my line of sight, looking immensely pleased with himself.

  “Are you messing with me?” I asked. “‘Sweetbread’ is pancreas ?” I don’t know why that shocked me so much. Moroi consumed blood. Why not internal organs? Still, I repressed a shudder.

  Adrian shrugged. “It’s really good.”

  I shook my head in disgust. “Oh, man. Rich people suck.”

  His amusement continued. “What are you doing here, little dhampir? Are you following me around?”

  “Of course not,” I scoffed. He was dressed to perfection, as always. “Especially not after all the trouble you’ve gotten us into.”

  He flashed one of his tantalizing smiles, and despite how much he annoyed me, I again felt that overwhelming urge to be near him. What was up with that?

  “I don’t know,” he teased. He looked perfectly sane now, exhibiting no trace of the weird behavior I’d witnessed in his room. And yeah, he looked a lot better in a tuxedo than any guy I’d seen in there so far. “As many times as we keep seeing each other? This is, what, the fifth time? It’s starting to look suspicious. Don’t worry, though. I won’t tell your boyfriend. Either of them.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, then remembered he’d seen me with Dimitri earlier. I refused to blush. “I only have one boyfriend. Sort of. Maybe not anymore. And anyway, there’s nothing to tell. I don’t even like you.”

  “No?” asked Adrian, still smiling. He leaned toward me, like he had a secret to share. “Then why are you wearing my perfume?”

  This time, I did blush. I took a step back. “I’m not.”

  He laughed. “Of course you are. I counted the boxes after you left. Besides, I can smell it on you. It’s nice. Sharp . . . but still sweet—just like I’m sure you are deep down inside. And you got it right, you know. Just enough to add an edge . . . but not enough to drown your own scent.” The way he said “scent” made it sound like a dirty word.

  Royal Moroi might make me uncomfortable, but smartass guys hitting on me didn’t. I dealt with them on a regular basis. I shook off my shyness and remembered who I was.

  “Hey,” I said, tossing my hair back. “I had every right to take one. You offered them. Your mistake is in assuming me taking one means anything. It doesn’t. Except that maybe you should be more careful with where you dump all that money of yours.”

  “Ooh, Rose Hathaway is here to play, folks.” He paused and took a glass of what looked like champagne from a passing waiter. “You want one?”

  “I don’t drink.”

  “Right.” Adrian handed me a glass anyway, then shooed the waiter away and took a drink of the champagne. I had a feeling it wasn’t his first of the night. “So. Sounds like our Vasilisa put my dad in his place.”

  “Your . . .” I glanced back at the group I’d just left. Silver Hair still stood there, gesticulating wildly. “That guy’s your dad?”

  “That’s what my mom says.”

  “You agree with him? About how Moroi fighting would be suicide?”

  Adrian shrugged and took another sip. “I don’t really have an opinion on that.”

  “That’s not possible. How can you not feel one way or another?”

  “Dunno. Just not something I think about. I’ve got better things to do.”

  “Like stalk me,” I suggested. “And Lissa.” I still wanted to know why she’d been in his room.

  He smiled again. “I told you, you’re the one following me.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. Five times—” I stopped. “Five times?”

  He nodded.

  “No, it’s only been four.” With my free hand, I ticked them off. “There was that first night, the night at the spa, then when I came to your room, and now tonight.”

  The smile turned secretive. “If you say so.”

  “I do say so. . . .” Again, my words trailed off. I had talked to Adrian one other time. Sort of. “You can’t mean . . .”

  “Mean what?” A curious, eager expression lit his eyes. It was more hopeful than presumptuous.

  I swallowed, recalling the dream. “Nothing.” Without thinking about it, I took a drink of champagne. Across the room, Lissa’s feelings burned back to me, calm and content. Good.

  “Why are you smiling?” Adrian asked.

  “Because Lissa’s still over there, working that crowd.”

  “No surprise there. She’s one of those people who can charm anyone she wants if she tries hard enough. Even people who hate her.”

  I gave him a wry look. “I feel that way when I talk to you.”

  “But you don’t hate me,” he said, finishing the last of his champagne. “Not really.”

  “I don’t like you either.”

  “So you keep saying.” He took a step toward me, not threatening, just making the space between us more intimate. “But I can live with that.”

  “Rose!”

  The sharpness of my mother’s voice cut through the air. A few people within earshot glanced over at us. My mother—all five angry feet of her—stormed up to us.

  SEVENTEEN

  "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE doing?” she demanded. Her voice was still too loud as far as I was concerned.

  “Nothing, I—”

  “Excuse us, Lord Ivashkov,” she growled. Then, like I was five years old, she grabbed me by my arm and jerked me out of the room. Champagne sloshed out of my glass and splashed onto the skirt of my dress.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I exclaimed, once we were out in the hall. Mournfully, I looked down at my dress. “This is silk. You could have ruined it.”

  She grabbed the champagne flute and set it down on a nearby table. “Good. Maybe it’ll stop you from dressing up like a cheap whore.”

  “Whoa,” I said, shocked. “That’s kind of harsh. And where do you get off turning motherly all of a sudden?” I
gestured to the dress. “This isn’t exactly cheap. You thought it was nice of Tasha to give it to me.”

  “That’s because I didn’t expect you to wear it out with Moroi and make a spectacle of yourself.”

  “I’m not making a spectacle of myself. And anyway, it covers everything up.”

  “A dress that tight might as well be showing everything,” she retorted. She, of course, was dressed in guardian black: tailored black linen pants and a matching blazer. She had a few curves of her own, but the clothing hid them.

  “Especially when you’re with a group like that. Your body’s . . . conspicuous. And flirting with Moroi doesn’t really help.”

  “I wasn’t flirting with him.”

  The accusation made me angry because I felt I’d been on really good behavior lately. I used to flirt all the time— and do other things—with Moroi guys, but after a few talks and one embarrassing incident with Dimitri, I’d realized how stupid that was. Dhampir girls did have to be careful with Moroi guys, and I kept that in mind all the time now.

  Something petty occurred to me. “Besides,” I said mockingly, “isn’t that what I’m supposed to do? Hook up with a Moroi and further my race? It’s what you did.”

  She glowered. “Not when I was your age.”

  “You were only a few years older than me.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid, Rose,” she said. “You’re too young for a baby. You don’t have the life experience for it— you haven’t even lived your own life yet. You won’t be able to do the kind of job you wish you could.”

  I groaned, mortified. “Are we really even discussing this? How did we go from me allegedly flirting to suddenly having a litter? I’m not having sex with him or anyone else, and even if I were, I know about birth control. Why are you talking to me like I’m a child?”

  “Because you act like one.” It was remarkably like what Dimitri had told me.

  I glared. “So you’re going to send me to my room now?”

  “No, Rose.” She suddenly looked tired. “You don’t have to go to your room, but don’t go back in there, either. Hopefully you didn’t draw too much attention.”

  “You make it sound like I was giving a lap dance in there,” I told her. “I just had dinner with Lissa.”

  “You’d be surprised what things can spark rumors,” she warned. “Especially with Adrian Ivashkov.”

  With that, she turned and headed off down the hall. Watching her, I felt anger and resentment burn through me. Overreact much? I hadn’t done anything wrong. I knew she had her whole blood-whore paranoia, but this was extreme, even for her. Worst of all, she’d dragged me out of there, and several people had witnessed it. For someone who supposedly didn’t want me attracting attention, she’d kind of messed that one up.

  A couple of Moroi who’d been standing near Adrian and me walked out of the room. They glanced in my direction and then whispered something as they passed.

  “Thanks, Mom,” I muttered to myself.

  Humiliated, I stalked off in the opposite direction, not really sure where I was going. I headed out toward the back of the lodge, away from all the activity.

  The hall eventually ended, but a door leading to some stairs sat on the left. The door was unlocked, so I followed the stairs upward to another door. To my pleasure, it opened up onto a small rooftop deck that didn’t appear to see much use. A blanket of snow lay over it all, but it was early morning out here, and the sun shone brightly, making everything glitter.

  I brushed snow off of a large, box-like object that looked to be part of the ventilation system. Heedless of my dress, I sat down on it. Wrapping my arms around myself, I stared off, taking in the view and the sun I rarely got to enjoy.

  I was startled when the door opened a few minutes later. When I looked back I was even more startled still to see Dimitri emerge. My heart gave a small flutter, and I turned away, unsure what to think. His boots crunched in the snow as he walked over to where I was sitting. A moment later, he took off his long coat and draped it over my shoulders.

  He sat down beside me. “You must be freezing.”

  I was, but I didn’t want to admit it. “The sun’s out.”

  He tipped his head back, looking up at the perfect blue sky. I knew he missed the sun as much as I did sometimes. “It is. But we’re still on a mountain in the middle of winter.”

  I didn’t answer. We sat there in a comfortable silence for a while. Occasionally, a light wind blew clouds of snow around. It was night for Moroi, and most would be going to bed soon, so the ski runs were quiet.

  “My life is a disaster,” I finally said.

  “It’s not a disaster,” he said automatically.

  “Did you follow me from the party?”

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t even know you were there.” His dark clothes indicated he must have been on guardian duty at the party. “So you saw the illustrious Janine cause a commotion by dragging me out.”

  “It wasn’t a commotion. Hardly anyone noticed. I saw because I was watching you.”

  I refused to let myself get excited over that. “That’s not what she said,” I told him. “I might as well have been working a corner as far as she was concerned.”

  I relayed the conversation from the hallway.

  “She’s just worried about you,” Dimitri said when I finished.

  “She overreacted.”

  “Sometimes mothers are overprotective.”

  I stared at him. “Yeah, but this is my mother. And she didn’t seem that protective, really. I think she was more worried I’d embarrass her or something. And all that becoming-a-mother-too -young stuff was stupid. I’m not going to do anything like that.”

  “Maybe she wasn’t talking about you,” he said.

  More silence. My jaw fell open.

  You don’t have the life experience for it—you haven’t even lived your own life yet. You won’t be able to do the kind of job you wish you could.

  My mom had been twenty when I was born. Growing up, that had always seemed really old to me. But now . . . that was only a few years off for me. Not old at all. Did she think she’d had me too soon? Had she done a shoddy job raising me simply because she didn’t know any better at the time? Did she regret the way things had turned out between us? And was it . . . was it maybe possible that she’d had some personal experience of her own with Moroi men and people spreading rumors about her? I’d had inherited a lot of her features. I mean, I’d even noticed tonight what a nice figure she had. She had a pretty face, too—for a nearly forty-year-old, I mean. She’d probably been really, really good-looking when she was younger. . . .

  I sighed. I didn’t want to think about that. If I did, I might have to reevaluate my relationship with her—maybe even acknowledge my mother as a real person—and I already had too many relationships stressing me. Lissa always worried me, even though she seemed to be okay for a change. My so-called romance with Mason was in shambles. And then, of course, there was Dimitri. . . .

  “We aren’t fighting right now.” I blurted out.

  He gave me a sidelong look. “Do you want to fight?”

  “No. I hate fighting with you. Verbally, I mean. I don’t mind in the gym.”

  I thought I detected the hint of a smile. Always a half-smile for me. Rarely a full one. “I don’t like fighting with you either.”

  Sitting next to him there, I marveled at the warm and happy emotions springing up inside of me. There was something about being around him that felt so good, that moved me in a way Mason couldn’t. You can’t force love, I realized. It’s there or it isn’t. If it’s not there, you’ve got to be able to admit it. If it is there, you’ve got to do whatever it takes to protect the ones you love.

  The next words that came out of my mouth astonished me, both because they were completely unselfish and because I actually meant them.

  “You should take it.”

  He flinched. “What?”

  “Tasha’s offer. You should take
her up on it. It’s a really great chance.”

  I remembered my mom’s words about being ready for children. I wasn’t. Maybe she hadn’t been. But Tasha was. And I knew Dimitri was too. They got along really well. He could go be her guardian, have some kids with her . . . it would be a good deal for both of them.

  “I never expected to hear you say anything like that,” he told me, voice tight. “Especially after—”

  “What a bitch I’ve been? Yeah.” I tugged his coat tighter against the cold. It smelled like him. It was intoxicating, and I could half-imagine being wrapped in his embrace. Adrian might have been onto something about the power of scent. “Well. Like I said, I don’t want to fight anymore. I don’t want us to hate each other. And . . . well . . .” I squeezed my eyes shut and then opened them. “No matter how I feel about us . . . I want you to be happy.”

  Silence yet again. I noticed then that my chest hurt.

  Dimitri reached out and put his arm around me. He pulled me to him, and I rested my head on his chest. “Roza,” was all he said.

  It was the first time he’d really touched me since the night of the lust charm. The practice room had been something different . . . more animal. This wasn’t even about sex. It was just about being close to someone you cared about, about the emotion that kind of connection flooded you with.

  Dimitri might run off with Tasha, but I would still love him. I would probably always love him.

  I cared about Mason. But I would probably never love him.

  I sighed into Dimitri, just wishing I could stay like that forever. It felt right being with him. And—no matter how much the thought of him and Tasha made me ache—doing what was best for him felt right. Now, I knew, it was time to stop being a coward and do something else that was right. Mason had said I needed to learn something about myself. I just had.

  Reluctantly, I pulled away and handed Dimitri his coat. I stood up. He regarded me curiously, sensing my unease.

  “Where you going?” he asked.

  “To break someone’s heart,” I replied.