“I have to check in with Ms. Carmack every day and regularly talk to a counselor.” Lissa made a face at this last part, but her overall feelings were still quite upbeat. “I can’t wait to see what I can do with Adrian.”
“Adrian’s a bad influence.”
“He didn’t make me do this, Rose. I chose it.” When I didn’t answer, she lightly touched my arm. “Hey, listen. Don’t worry. I’ve been so much better, and lots of people are going to have my back.”
“Everyone except me,” I told her wistfully. Across the room, Christian entered through a set of double doors and approached us. The clock read five minutes until the end of lunch. “Oh man. The zero hour is almost here.”
Christian pulled up a chair at our table and flipped it backwards, letting his chin rest on its slatted back. He brushed his black hair away from his blue eyes and gave us a smug smile. I felt Lissa’s heart lighten at his presence.
“I can’t wait until this show gets on the road,” he said. “You and me are going to have so much fun, Rose. Picking out curtains, doing each other's hair, telling ghost stories. . . .”
The reference to “ghost stories” hit a little closer to home than I was comfortable with. Not that choosing curtains or brushing Christian’s hair was much more appealing.
I shook my head in exasperation and stood up. “I’ll leave you two alone for your last few private moments.” They laughed.
I walked over to the lunch line, hoping to find some leftover doughnuts from breakfast. So far, I could see croissants, quiche, and poached pears. It must have been highbrow day at the cafeteria. Was deep-fried dough really too much to ask for? Eddie stood in front of me. His face turned apologetic as soon as he saw me.
“Rose, I’m really sorry—”
I put up a hand to stop him. “Don’t worry. It’s not your fault. Just promise me you’ll do a good job protecting her.”
It was a silly sentiment since she was in no real danger, but I could never really stop worrying about her—particularly in light of this new development with her medication.
Eddie stayed serious, apparently not thinking my request was silly at all. He was one of the few who knew about Lissa’s abilities—and their downsides, which was probably why he’d been selected to guard her. “I won’t let anything happen to her. I mean it.”
I couldn’t help a smile, in spite of my glum mood. His experiences with the Strigoi made him take all of this more seriously than almost any other novice. Aside from me, he was probably the best choice to guard her.
“Rose, is it true you punched Guardian Petrov?”
I turned and looked into the faces of two Moroi, Jesse Zeklos and Ralf Sarcozy. They’d just stepped in line behind Eddie and me and looked more self-satisfied and annoying than usual. Jesse was all bronzed good looks and quick thinking. Ralf was his slightly less attractive and slightly less intelligent sidekick. They were quite possibly the two people I hated most at this school, mainly due to some nasty rumors they’d spread about me doing some very explicit things with them. It was Mason’s strong-arming that had forced them to tell the truth to the school, and I don’t think they’d ever forgiven me for that.
“Punch Alberta? Hardly.” I started to turn around, but Ralf kept talking.
“We heard you threw a big hissy fit in the gym when you found out who you were with.”
“‘Hissy fit’? What are you, sixty? All I did was—” I paused and carefully chose my words. “—register my opinion.”
“Well,” said Jesse. “I suppose if anyone’s going to keep an eye on that Strigoi wannabe, it might as well be you. You’re the biggest badass around here.”
The grudging tone in his voice made it sound like he was complimenting me. I didn’t see it that way at all. Before he could utter another word, I was standing right in front of him, with barely any space between us. In what I considered a true sign of discipline, I didn’t put my hand around his throat. His eyes widened in surprise.
“Christian has nothing to do with any Strigoi,” I said in a low voice.
“His parents—”
“Are his parents. And he’s Christian. Don’t confuse them.” Jesse had been on the wrong side of my anger before. He was clearly remembering that, and his fear warred with his desire to trash-talk Christian in front of me. Surprisingly, the latter won out.
“Earlier you acted like being with him was the end of the world, and now you’re defending him? You know how he is—he breaks rules all the time. Are you saying you seriously don’t believe there’s any chance at all he might turn Strigoi like his parents?”
“None,” I said. “Absolutely none. Christian’s more willing to take a stand against Strigoi than probably any other Moroi here.” Jesse’s eyes flicked curiously toward Ralf before returning to me. “He even helped me fight against those ones in Spokane. There is no chance of him ever, ever turning Strigoi.” I racked my brain, trying to recall who had been assigned to Jesse for the field experience. “And if I hear you spreading that crap around, Dean isn’t going to be able to save you from me.”
“Or me,” added Eddie, who had come to stand right beside me.
Jesse swallowed and took a step back. “You’re such a liar. You can’t lay a hand on me. If you get suspended now, you’ll never graduate.”
He was right, of course, but I smiled anyway. “Might be worth it. We’ll have to see, huh?”
It was at that point that Jesse and Ralf decided they didn’t want anything from the lunch line after all. They stalked off, and I heard something that sounded suspiciously like “crazy bitch.”
“Jerks,” I muttered. Then I brightened. “Oh, hey. Doughnuts.”
I got a chocolate-glazed, and then Eddie and I hurried off to find our Moroi and get to class. He grinned at me. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you just defended Christian’s honor. Isn’t he a pain in the ass?”
“Yes,” I said, licking icing off my fingers. “He is. But for the next six weeks, he’s my pain in the ass.”
FOUR
IT BEGAN.
At first, things weren’t too different from any other day. Dhampirs and Moroi attended separate classes in the first half of the school day, then joined up after lunch. Christian had most of the same afternoon classes I’d had last semester, so it was almost like following my own schedule again. The difference was that I was no longer a student in these classes. I didn’t sit at a desk or have to do any of the work. I was also a lot more uncomfortable since I had to stand at the back of the room the entire time, along with other novices who were guarding Moroi. Outside the school, this was what it was usually like. Moroi came first. Guardians were shadows.
There was a strong temptation to talk to our fellow novices, particularly during times when the Moroi were working on their own and talking amongst themselves. None of us cracked, though. The pressure and adrenaline of the first day had us all on good behavior.
After biology, Eddie and I started using a bodyguard technique called pair guarding. I was near guard and walked with Lissa and Christian for immediate defense. Eddie, being far guard, walked farther away and scanned the larger area for any potential threats.
We followed this pattern for the rest of the day, up until the last class came around. Lissa gave Christian a quick kiss on the cheek, and I realized they were parting.
“You guys don’t have the same schedule this time?” I asked with dismay, stepping over to the side of the hall to stay out of student traffic. Eddie had already deduced that we were parting and had stopped far guard duties to come talk to us. I hadn’t known how Lissa and Christian’s schedules lined up for this new semester.
Lissa took in my disappointed look and gave me a sympathetic smile. “Sorry. We’re going to study together after school, but right now, I’ve got to go to creative writing.”
“And I,” declared Christian loftily, “have to go to culinary science.”
“Culinary science?” I cried. “You elected culinary science? That’s like the
most brainless class ever.”
“It is not,” he countered. “And even if it was . . . well, hey, it’s my last semester, right?” I groaned.
“Come on, Rose,” laughed Lissa. “It’s just one class period. It won’t be that—”
She was cut off when a commotion broke out farther down the hall. We and everyone near us stopped and stared. One of my guardian instructors, Emil, had practically appeared out of nowhere and—playing Strigoi—reached for a Moroi girl. He swung her away, pressing her to his chest and exposing her neck as though he would bite her. I couldn’t see who she was, just a tangle of brown hair, but her assigned protector was Shane Reyes. The attack had caught him by surprise—it was the first one of the day—but he fumbled only a little as he kicked Emil in the side and wrested the girl away. The two guys squared off, and everyone watched eagerly. A few even whistled and shouted, cheering Shane on.
One of the catcallers was Ryan Aylesworth. He was so fixated on watching the fight—which Shane, wielding his practice stake, had just about won—that he didn’t notice two other adult guardians sneaking up on him and Camille. Eddie and I realized it at the same time and stiffened, instinct readying both of us to spring forward.
“Stay with them,” Eddie told me. He headed toward Ryan and Camille, who had just discovered they were being set upon. Ryan didn’t react as well as Shane had, particularly since he faced two attackers. One of the guardians distracted Ryan while the other—Dimitri, I now saw—grabbed Camille. She screamed, not faking her fear. She apparently didn’t find being in Dimitri’s arms as thrilling as I did.
Eddie headed toward them, approaching from behind, and landed a blow on the side of Dimitri’s head. It hardly fazed Dimitri, but I was still amazed. I’d barely ever been able to land a hit on him in all our trainings. Eddie’s attack forced Dimitri to release Camille and face this new threat. He spun around, graceful as a dancer, and advanced on Eddie.
Meanwhile, Shane had “staked” his Strigoi and jumped in to help Eddie, moving around to Dimitri’s other side. I watched, fists clenched in excitement, intrigued with the fighting in general and with watching Dimitri in particular. It amazed me that someone so deadly could be so beautiful. I wished I was part of the fray but knew I had to watch the area around me in case any “Strigoi” attacked here.
But they didn’t. Shane and Eddie successfully “finished off” Dimitri. Part of me was a little sad at this. I wanted Dimitri to be good at everything. However, Ryan had tried to help and failed. Dimitri had technically “killed” him, so I felt a twisted comfort in thinking that Dimitri had still been a badass Strigoi. He and Emil praised Shane for being fast on his feet and Eddie for realizing we had to treat this as a group endeavor rather than one-on-one trials. I got a nod for watching Eddie’s back, and Ryan was chastised for not paying attention to his Moroi.
Eddie and I grinned at each other, happy over getting high marks on this first test. I wouldn’t have minded a slightly bigger role, but this wasn’t a bad start to the field experience. We high-fived, and I saw Dimitri shake his head at us as he left.
With the drama over, our foursome split up. Lissa gave me one last smile over her shoulder and spoke to me through the bond, Have fun in culinary science! I rolled my eyes, but she and Eddie had already rounded a corner.
“Culinary science” sounded pretty impressive, but really, it was just a fancy term for what was essentially a cooking class. Despite my teasing Christian about it being brainless, I had some respect for it. I could barely boil water, after all. Still, it was a lot different from an elective like creative writing or debate, and I had no doubts Christian was taking it as a blow-off class and not because he wanted to be a chef someday. At least I might get some satisfaction out of watching him mix a cake or something. Maybe he’d even wear an apron.
There were three other novices in the class who were guarding Moroi. Since the culinary science room was large and open, with lots of windows, the four of us worked together to come up with a plan to pool our efforts and secure the whole room. When I’d watched novices do their field experiences in past years, I’d only ever paid attention to the fights. I’d never noticed the teamwork and strategizing that must have been going on. Theoretically, the four of us were here to only protect our assigned Moroi, but we’d slipped into a role where we were protecting the whole class.
My post was by a fire door that led outside of the school. Coincidentally, it was right by the station Christian was working at. The class normally cooked in pairs, but there was an odd number of students. Rather than work in a group of three, Christian had volunteered to be by himself. No one had seemed to mind. Many still regarded him and his family with the same prejudice that Jesse did. To my disappointment, Christian wasn’t making a cake.
“What is that?” I asked, watching him take out a bowl of some kind of raw, ground-up meat from the refrigerator.
“Meat,” he said, dumping it onto a cutting board.
“I know that, you idiot. What kind?”
“Ground beef.” He pulled another container out and then another. “And this is veal. And this is pork.”
“Do you have, like, a T. rex that you’re going to feed?”
“Only if you want some. This is for meatloaf.”
I stared. “With three kinds of meat?”
“Why eat something called meatloaf if you aren’t actually going to get some meat out of it?”
I shook my head. “I can’t believe this is only the first day with you.”
He glanced down, focusing on kneading his tri-meat creation together. “You sure are making a big deal out of this. Do you really hate me that much? I heard you were screaming at the top of your lungs back in the gym.”
“No, I wasn’t. And . . . I don’t hate you at all,” I admitted.
“You’re just taking it out on me because you didn’t get paired with Lissa.”
I didn’t answer. He wasn’t that far off.
“You know,” he continued, “it might actually be a good idea for you to practice with someone different.”
“I know. That’s what Dimitri says too.”
Christian put the meat into a bowl and started adding some other ingredients. “Then why question it? Belikov knows what he’s doing. I’d trust anything he says. It sucks that they’re going to lose him after we graduate, but I’d rather see him with Lissa.”
“Me too.”
He paused and looked up, meeting my eyes. We both smiled, amused at how shocked we were to have agreed with each other. A moment later, he returned to his work.
“You’re good too,” he said, not too grudgingly. “The way you handled yourself . . .”
He didn’t finish the thought, but I knew what he was talking about. Spokane. Christian hadn’t been around when I killed the Strigoi, but he’d been instrumental in helping with the escape. He and I had teamed up, using his fire magic as a means of letting me subdue our captors. We’d worked well together, all of our animosity put aside.
“I guess you and I have better things to do than fight all the time,” I mused. Like worry about Victor Dashkov’s trial, I realized. For a moment, I considered telling Christian what I’d learned. He’d been around the night it had all gone down with Victor last fall, but I decided not to mention the news just yet. Lissa needed to hear it first.
“Yup,” Christian said, unaware of my thoughts. “Brace yourself, but we aren’t that different. I mean, I’m smarter and a lot funnier, but at the end of the day, we both want to keep her safe.” He hesitated. “You know . . . I’m not going to take her away from you. I can’t. No one can, not as long as you guys have that bond.”
I was surprised he’d brought this up. I honestly suspected that there were two reasons he and I argued a lot. One was that we both had personalities that liked to argue. The other reason—the big one—was that we were each envious of the other's relationship with Lissa. But, as he’d said, we really had the same motives. We cared about her.
“And don’
t think the bond will keep you guys apart,” I said. I knew the link bothered him. How could you ever get romantically close to someone when they had that kind of connection with another person, even if that other person was just a friend? “She cares about you. . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to say “loves.” “She has a whole separate place for you in her heart.”
Christian put his dish in the oven. “You did not just say that. I have a feeling we’re on the verge of hugging and coming up with cute nicknames for each other.” He was trying to look disgusted at my sentiment, but I could tell he liked being told that Lissa cared about him.
“I already have a nickname for you, but I’ll get in trouble if I say it in class.”
“Ah,” he said happily. “That’s the Rose I know.”
He went off to talk to another friend while his meatloaf cooked, which was probably just as well. My door was a vulnerable position, and I shouldn’t have been chatting away, even if the rest of the class was. Across the room, I saw Jesse and Ralf working together. Like Christian, they’d chosen a blow-off class too.
No attacks occurred, but a guardian named Dustin did come in to make notes on us novices as we held our positions. He was standing near me right when Jesse chose to stroll by. At first, I thought it was a coincidence—until Jesse spoke.
“I take back what I said earlier, Rose. I figured it out. You aren’t upset because of Lissa or Christian. You’re upset because the rules say you have to be with a student, and Adrian Ivashkov’s too old. The way I hear it, you guys have already had a lot of practice watching each other's bodies.”
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