“What happened out there?” he asked at last, meeting my gaze. “You didn’t crack under the pressure.”
His voice was curious, not accusatory. He wasn’t treating me as a student right now, I realized. He was regarding me as an equal. He simply wanted to know what was going on with me. There was no discipline or lecturing here.
And that just made it all the worse when I had to lie to him.
“Of course it was,” I told him, looking down into my cup. “Unless you believe I really did let Stan ‘attack’ Christian.”
“No,” he said. “I don’t believe that. I never did. I knew you’d be unhappy when you found out about the assignments, but I never once doubted that you’d do what you’d have to for this. I knew you wouldn’t let your personal feelings get in the way of your duty.”
I looked up again and met his eyes, so full of faith and absolute confidence in me. “I didn’t. I was mad. . . . Still am a little. But once I said I’d do it, I meant it. And after spending some time with him . . . well, I don’t hate him. I actually think he’s good for Lissa, and he cares about her, so I can’t get upset about that. He and I just clash sometimes, that’s all . . . but we did really well together against the Strigoi. I remembered that while I was with him today, and arguing against this assignment just seemed stupid. So I decided to do the best job I could.”
I hadn’t meant to talk so much, but it felt good to let out what was inside of me, and the look on Dimitri’s face would have gotten me to say anything. Almost anything.
“What happened then?” he asked. “With Stan?”
I averted my eyes and played with my cup again. I hated keeping things from him, but I couldn’t tell him about this. In the human world, vampires and dhampirs were creatures of myth and legend—bedtime stories to scare children. Humans didn’t know we were real and walking the earth. But just because we were real didn’t mean that every other story-time paranormal creature was. We knew that and had our own myths and bedtime stories about things we didn’t believe in. Werewolves. Bogeymen. Ghosts.
Ghosts played no real role in our culture, short of being fodder for pranks and campfire tales. Ghosts inevitably came up on Halloween, and some legends endured over the years. But in real life? No ghosts. If you came back after death, it was because you were a Strigoi.
At least, that’s what I’d always been taught. I honestly didn’t know enough now to say what was going on. Me imagining Mason seemed more likely than him being a true ghost, but man, that meant I might seriously be heading into crazy territory. All this time I’d worried about Lissa losing it. Who had known it might be me?
Dimitri was still watching me, waiting for an answer.
“I don’t know what happened out there. My intentions were good . . . I just . . . I just messed up.”
“Rose. You’re a terrible liar.”
I glanced up. “No, I’m not. I’ve told a lot of good lies in my life. People have believed them.”
He smiled slightly. “I’m sure. But it doesn’t work with me. For one thing, you won’t look me in the eye. As for the other . . . I don’t know. I can just tell.”
Damn. He could tell. He just knew me that well. I stood up and moved to the door, keeping my back to him. Normally, I treasured every minute with him, but I couldn’t stick around today. I hated lying, but I didn’t want to tell the truth either. I had to leave.
“Look, I appreciate you being worried about me . . . but really, it’s okay. I just messed up. I’m embarrassed about it—and sorry I put your awesome training to shame—but I’ll rebound. Next time, Stan’s ass is mine.”
I hadn’t even heard him get up, but suddenly, Dimitri was right behind me. He placed a hand on my shoulder, and I froze in front of the door leading out. He didn’t touch me anywhere else. He didn’t try to pull me closer. But, oh, that one hand on my shoulder held all the power in the world.
“Rose,” he said, and I knew he was no longer smiling. “I don’t know why you’re lying, but I know you wouldn’t do it without a good reason. And if there’s something wrong—something you’re afraid to tell the others—”
I spun around rapidly, somehow managing to pivot in place in such a way that his hand never moved yet ended up on my other shoulder.
“I’m not afraid,” I cried. “I do have my reasons, and believe me, what happened with Stan was nothing. Really. All of this is just something stupid that got blown out of proportion. Don’t feel sorry for me or feel like you have to do anything. What happened sucks, but I’ll just roll with it and take the black mark. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll take care of me.” It took all of my strength just then not to shake. How had this day gotten so bizarre and out of control?
Dimitri didn’t say anything. He just looked down at me, and the expression on his face was one I’d never seen before. I couldn’t interpret it. Was he mad? Disapproving? I just couldn’t tell. The fingers on my shoulder tightened slightly and then relaxed.
“You don’t have to do this alone,” he said at last. He sounded almost wistful, which made no sense. He was the one who’d been telling me for so long that I needed to be strong. I wanted to throw myself into his arms just then, but I knew I couldn’t.
I couldn’t help a smile. “You say that . . . but tell me the truth. Do you go running to others when you have problems?”
“That’s the not the same—”
“Answer the question, comrade.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“And don’t avoid the question either.”
“No,” he said. “I try to deal with my problems on my own.”
I slipped away from his hand. “See?”
“But you have a lot of people in your life you can trust, people who care about you. That changes things.”
I looked at him in surprise. “You don’t have people who care about you?”
He frowned, obviously rethinking his words. “Well, I’ve always had good people in my life . . . and there have been people who cared about me. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I could trust them or tell them everything.”
I was often so distracted by the weirdness of our relationship that I rarely thought about Dimitri as someone with a life away from me. He was respected by everyone on campus. Teachers and students alike knew him as one of the deadliest guardians here. Whenever we ran into guardians from outside the school, they always seemed to know and respect him too. But I couldn’t recall ever having seen him in any sort of social setting. He didn’t appear to have any close friends among the other guardians—just coworkers he liked. The friendliest I’d ever seen him get with someone had been when Christian’s aunt, Tasha Ozera, visited. They’d known each other for a long time, but even that hadn’t been enough for Dimitri to pursue once her visit was over.
Dimitri was alone an awful lot, I realized, content to hole up with his cowboy novels when not working. I felt alone a lot, but in truth, I was almost always surrounded by people. With him being my teacher, I tended to view things as one-sided: He was the one always giving me something, be it advice or instruction. But I gave him something too, something harder to define—a connection with another person.
“Do you trust me?” I asked him.
The hesitation was brief. “Yes.”
“Then trust me now, and don’t worry about me just this once.”
I stepped away, out of the reach of his arm, and he didn’t say anything more or try to stop me. Cutting through the room that I’d had the hearing in, I headed for the building’s main exit, tossing the remnants of my hot chocolate in a garbage can as I walked past.
SIX
THERE HAD ONLY BEEN THREE other witnesses to what had happened out on the quad. Yet, unsurprisingly, everyone seemed to know about it when I returned to the commons later on. Classes were done, but plenty of students moved about in the corridors, off to study or retake tests or whatever. They tried to hide their glances and whispers, but they didn’t do a very good job. Those who made eye contact with me e
ither gave me tight-lipped smiles or immediately looked away. Wonderful.
With no psychic link to Christian, I had no clue where to find him. I could sense that Lissa was in the library and figured that would be a good place to start looking. On my way there, I heard a guy’s voice call out behind me.
“Took things a bit far, didn’t you?”
I turned around and saw Ryan and Camille walking several steps back. If I’d been a guy, the appropriate response would have been, “You mean with your mom?” Because I was not a guy, though, and because I had manners, I just said, “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ryan hurried to catch up with me. “You know exactly what I mean. With Christian. I heard that when Stan attacked, you were just like, ‘Here, take him,’ and walked away.”
“Oh good God,” I groaned. It was bad enough when everyone was talking about you, but why did the stories always end up changing? “That is not what happened.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked. “Then why did you get called in to see Alberta?”
“Look,” I said, not feeling so well mannered anymore, “I just messed up the attack . . . you know, kind of like you did earlier when you weren’t paying attention in the hall?”
“Hey,” he said, flushing slightly. “I ended up getting in on that—I did my part.”
“Is that what they’re calling getting killed nowadays?”
“At least I wasn’t a whiny bitch who refused to fight.”
I had just about calmed down after speaking with Dimitri, but now my temper was rising already. It was like a thermometer ready to burst. “You know, maybe instead of criticizing others, you should pay more attention to your own guardian duties.” I nodded toward Camille. She had thus far been quiet, but her face showed me she was eating all of this up.
Ryan shrugged. “I can do both. Shane’s farther behind us, and the area ahead is clear. No doors. Easy.” He patted Camille’s shoulder. “She’s safe.”
“It’s an easy place to secure. You wouldn’t do so well in the real world with real Strigoi.”
His smile faded. Anger glinted in his eyes. “Right. The way I hear it, you didn’t do such a great job out there either, at least not as far as Mason was concerned.”
Taunting over what had happened with Stan and Christian was one thing. But implying that I was at fault for Mason’s death? Unacceptable. I was the one who’d kept Lissa safe for two years in the human world. I was the one who had killed two Strigoi in Spokane. I was the only novice at this school with molnija marks, the little tattoos given to guardians to mark Strigoi kills. I’d known there had been some whispers about what had happened to Mason, but no one had ever actually said anything to me. The thought of Ryan or anyone else thinking I was to blame for Mason dying was too much. I blamed myself plenty enough already without their help.
The thermometer broke.
In one smooth motion, I reached past him, grabbed Camille, and swung her up against the wall. I hadn’t thrown her hard enough to hurt her, but she was clearly startled. Her eyes widened in shock, and I used my forearm to pin her, pressing it against her throat.
“What are you doing?” exclaimed Ryan, peering back and forth between our faces. I shifted my stance slightly, still keeping the pressure on Camille.
“Furthering your education,” I said pleasantly. “Sometimes places aren’t as easy to secure as you think.”
“You’re crazy! You can’t hurt a Moroi. If the guardians find out—”
“I’m not,” I argued. I glanced toward her. “Am I hurting you? Are you in extreme pain?”
There was a hesitation; then she gave as much of a shake of her head as she could manage.
“Are you uncomfortable?”
A small nod.
“See?” I told Ryan. “Discomfort isn’t the same thing as pain.”
“You’re insane. Let her go.”
“I’m not done, Ry. Pay attention because here’s the point: Danger can come from anywhere. Not just Strigoi—or guardians dressed up like Strigoi. Keep acting like an arrogant asshole who thinks he knows everything”—I pressed my arm in a little harder, still not enough to affect her breathing or cause real pain—“and you miss things. And those things can kill your Moroi.”
“Okay, okay. Whatever. Please, stop it,” he said. His voice wavered. There was no more attitude. “You’re scaring her.”
“I’d be scared too, if my life was in your hands.”
The scent of cloves alerted me to Adrian’s presence. I also knew that Shane and a few others had come to watch. The other novices looked uncertain, like they wanted to pry me off but were afraid of getting Camille hurt. I knew I should let her go, but Ryan had just made me so angry. I needed to prove a point to him. I needed to get him back. And really, I didn’t even feel sorry for Camille either since I was sure she’d done her fair share of gossiping about me too.
“This is fascinating,” said Adrian, his voice as lazy as usual. “But I think you’ve made your point.”
“I don’t know,” I said. The tone of my voice managed to be both sweet and menacing at the same time. “I still don’t think Ryan gets it.”
“For God’s sake, Rose! I get it,” cried Ryan. “Just let her go.”
Adrian moved around me, going over to stand beside Camille. She and I were pressed close together, but he managed to squeeze in so that his face was in my line of sight, almost beside hers. He wore that goofy smirk he normally had, but there was something serious in his dark green eyes.
“Yes, little dhampir. Let her go. You’re done here.”
I wanted to tell Adrian to get away from me, that I would be the one to say when this was finished. Somehow, I couldn’t get the words out. A part of me was enraged at his interference. The other part of me thought he sounded . . . reasonable.
“Let her go,” he repeated.
My eyes were all over Adrian now, not Camille. Suddenly, all of me decided he sounded reasonable. Completely reasonable. I needed to let her go. I moved my arm and stepped away. With a gulp, Camille darted behind Ryan, using him like a shield. I saw now that she was on the verge of tears. Ryan simply looked stunned.
Adrian straightened up and made a dismissive gesture toward Ryan. “I’d get out of here—before you really annoy Rose.”
Ryan, Camille, and the others slowly backed off from us. Adrian put his arm around me and hurried me away toward the library. I felt weird, kind of like I was waking up, but then, with each step, things grew clearer and clearer. I pushed his arm off me and jerked away.
“You just used compulsion on me!” I exclaimed. “You made me let her go.”
“Someone needed to. You looked like you were seconds away from strangling her.”
“I wasn’t. And I wouldn’t have.” I pushed open the library door. “You had no right to do that to me. No right at all.” Compulsion—making people do what you wanted—was a skill all vampires had to a very small degree. Using it was considered immoral, and most couldn’t control it well enough to do any real damage. Spirit strengthened the ability, however, making both Adrian and Lissa very dangerous.
“And you had no right to tackle some poor girl in the hall just to soothe your own hurt pride.”
“Ryan had no right to say those things.”
“I don’t even know what ‘those things’ are, but unless I’ve misjudged your age, you’re too old to be throwing a tantrum over idle gossip.”
“Throwing a—”
My words fell short as we reached Lissa working at a table. Her face and feelings told me trouble was coming. Eddie stood a couple feet away from her, leaning against a wall and watching the room. His eyes widened when he saw me, but he didn’t say anything at my approach.
I slid into the chair opposite Lissa.
“Hey.”
She looked up and sighed, then returned her attention to the textbook open in front of her. “I wondered when you’d turn up,” she said. “Did you get suspended?”
Her words were calm an
d polite, but I could read her underlying feelings. Annoyed. Even a little angry.
“Not this time,” I said. “Just got stuck with community service.”
She said nothing, but the irate mood I sensed through the bond remained unchanged.
Now I sighed. “Okay, talk to me, Liss. I know you’re mad.”
Adrian looked at me, then her, and then me again. “I feel like I’m missing something here.”
“Oh, great,” I said. “You went and busted up my fight and didn’t even know what it was about.”
“Fight?” asked Lissa, confusion joining her anger.
“What happened?” repeated Adrian.
I nodded to Lissa. “Go ahead, tell him.”
“Rose got tested earlier and refused to protect Christian.” She shook her head, exasperated, and fixed me with an accusatory glare. “I can’t believe you’re seriously still mad enough to do something like that to him. It’s childish.”
Lissa had jumped to the same conclusions as the guardians. I sighed. “I didn’t do it on purpose! I just sat through a whole hearing on this crap and told them the same thing.”
“Then what happened?” she demanded. “Why did you do it?”
I hesitated, unsure what to say. My reluctance to talk didn’t even have anything to do with Adrian and Eddie overhearing—though I certainly didn’t want them to. The problem was more complex.
Dimitri had been right—there were people I could trust, and two of them I trusted unconditionally: him and Lissa. I’d already held back from telling him the truth. Would I—could I—do the same with her? Although she was mad, I knew without a doubt that Lissa would always support me and be there for me. But just like with Dimitri, I balked at the idea of telling my ghost story. Also just like with Dimitri, it left me in the same bind: crazy or incompetent?
Vampire Academy: The Complete Collection: 1/6 Page 56
