Through our bond, I felt her mind, pure and clear. There was no taint, no darkness, or sign of madness—and yet, something tingled in the background. A slight stirring. Antidepressants took awhile to fully get into and out of one’s system, but her magic was already waking up after one day. I thought back to my ghostly encounters, dredging up the memory of that sad, translucent Mason. How could I even begin to explain that to her? How could I bring up something as weird and fantastic as that when she’d been trying so hard to get a little normality in her life and now faced the challenge of getting her magic under control?
No, I realized. I couldn’t tell her. Not yet—especially when it suddenly occurred to me that there was still something else big I needed to let her know about.
“I froze,” I said finally. “It’s stupid. I’d been so cocky about being able to take out anyone, and then Stan . . .” I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just couldn’t react. It . . . it’s really embarrassing. And him of all people.”
Lissa studied me intently, looking for any sign of dishonesty. It hurt to think that she’d mistrust me, except . . . well, I was actually lying. As I’d told Dimitri, though, I could be a good liar when I wanted to be. Lissa couldn’t tell.
“I wish I could read your mind,” she mused.
“Come on,” I said. “You know me. Do you really think I’d do this? Abandon Christian and make myself look stupid on purpose just to get back at my teachers?”
“No,” she said finally. “You’d probably do it in a way where you wouldn’t get caught.”
“Dimitri said the same thing,” I grumbled. “I’m glad everyone has so much faith in me.”
“We do,” she countered. “That’s why all of this is so weird.”
“Even I make mistakes.” I put on my brash, overconfident face. “I know it’s hard to believe—kind of surprises me myself—but I guess it has to happen. It’s probably some kind of karmic way to balance out the universe. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be fair to have one person so full of awesomeness.”
Adrian, blessedly silent for a change, was watching the two of us talk, much as one would look back and forth at a tennis match. His eyes were narrowed slightly, and I suspected he was studying our auras.
Lissa rolled her eyes, but fortunately, the anger I’d felt earlier lightened. She believed me. Her gaze then lifted from my face to someone beyond me. I felt the happy, golden emotions that signaled Christian’s presence.
“My loyal bodyguard returns,” he declared, pulling up a chair. He glanced at Lissa. “Are you done yet?”
“Done with what?” she asked.
He inclined his head toward me. “Giving her a hard time about how she threw me into the deadly clutches of Alto.”
Lissa blushed. She was already feeling a little bad about jumping on me, now that I’d defended myself sufficiently. Christian’s flippant, knowing observation just made her feel more foolish.
“We were just talking about it, that’s all.”
Adrian yawned and slouched back in his chair. “Actually, I think I’ve figured it all out. This was a scam, wasn’t it? A scam to scare me off since I’m always talking about you being my guardian. You thought if you pretended to be a bad guardian, I wouldn’t want you. Well, it’s not going to work, so there’s no point in risking anyone else’s life.”
I was grateful he didn’t mention the incident in the hall. Ryan had absolutely been out of line, but as more time passed, it became harder and harder for me to believe I’d snapped like that. It was like something that had happened to someone else, something that I’d simply been watching. Of course, I seemed to be snapping over everything lately. I’d been mad about getting Christian, mad about the guardians’ accusation, mad about—
Oh, right. It was probably time for me to drop the bomb.
“So, um . . . there’s something you guys should know.”
Four sets of eyes—even Eddie’s—turned to me.
“What’s wrong?” asked Lissa.
There was really no easy way to tell them, so I just pushed forward. “Well, it turns out that Victor Dashkov was never found guilty of what he did to us. He’s just been locked up. But they’re finally going to have an official trial—in another week or so.”
Lissa’s reaction to hearing his name was similar to mine. Shock shot through the bond, followed immediately by fear. A slide show of images flashed through her mind. The way Victor’s sick game had made her question her sanity. The torture his henchman had subjected her to. The bloody state she’d found Christian in after he’d been attacked by Victor’s hounds. She clenched her fists on the table, knuckles going white. Christian couldn’t sense her reaction the way I could, but he didn’t need to. He moved his hand over hers. She barely noticed.
“But . . . but . . .” She took a deep, steadying breath, fighting to stay calm. “How could he not be guilty already? Everyone knows. . . . They all saw. . . .”
“It’s the law. They supposedly have to give him a fighting chance.”
There was confusion all over her, and slowly, she came to the same realization that I had last night with Dimitri. “So . . . wait . . . are you saying there’s a chance they might not find him guilty?”
I looked into her wide, frightened eyes and couldn’t bring myself to tell her. Apparently, my face said it all.
Christian slammed his fist against the table. “This is bullshit.” Several people at other tables glanced over at his outburst.
“This is politics,” said Adrian. “People in power never have to play by the same rules.”
“But he nearly killed Rose and Christian!” cried Lissa. “And he kidnapped me! How can there be any question?”
Lissa’s emotions were all over the place. Fear. Sorrow. Anger. Outrage. Confusion. Helplessness. I didn’t want her delving into those dark feelings and hoped desperately that she’d grow calm again. Slowly, steadily, she did—but then I started getting angry again. It was like Ryan all over.
“It’s a formality, I’m sure,” said Adrian. “When all the evidence is in, there probably isn’t going to be much of a debate.”
“That’s the thing,” I said bitterly. “They’re not going to have all the evidence. We aren’t allowed to go.”
“What?” exclaimed Christian. “Then who’s testifying?”
“The other guardians who were there. We apparently can’t be trusted to keep the whole thing quiet. The queen doesn’t want the world to know that one of her precious royals might have done something wrong.”
Lissa didn’t seem to take offense at me trashing royals. “But we’re the reason he’s on trial.”
Christian stood up, glancing around as though Victor might be in the library. “I’m going to go take care of this right now.”
“Sure,” said Adrian. “I bet going in there and kicking down the door will change their minds. Take Rose with you, and you guys’ll make a really good impression.”
“Yeah?” asked Christian, clenching the back of his chair and fixing Adrian with a stormy glare. “You have a better idea?”
Lissa’s calmness began to waver again. “If Victor was free, would he come after us again?”
“If he gets loose again, he won’t stay that way for long,” I said. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“Careful there,” said Adrian. He seemed to find all of this funny. “Even you couldn’t get away with a royal assassination.”
I started to tell him that I’d practice on him first, but then Eddie’s sharp voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Rose.”
Instinct born from years of training instantly kicked into place. I looked up and immediately saw what he’d noticed. Emil had just entered the library and was scanning for novices, taking notes. I shot up out of my chair, taking a position not far from Eddie that gave me a view of Christian and most of the library. Damn it. I had to get a grip, or I’d end up proving Ryan right. Between my brawl in the hall and now this Victor thing, I was completely neglecting my guardian duties. I migh
t not even need Mason to fail this.
Emil hadn’t seen me sitting and socializing. He strolled by, glanced at us, and made a few notes before heading off to scout the rest of the library. Relieved at escaping my close call, I tried to gain control of myself. It was hard. That black mood had seized me again, and listening to Lissa and Christian rage over Victor’s trial wasn’t really helping me relax. I wanted to go over there and weigh in. I wanted to yell and rant and share my own frustration. But that wasn’t a luxury I had as a guardian. My first duty was to protect Moroi and not give into my own impulses. Over and over, I repeated the guardian mantra: They come first.
Those words were really starting to annoy me.
SEVEN
WHEN THE FIRST WARNING for curfew came around, the Moroi packed their things up. Adrian took off right away, but Lissa and Christian took their time walking back to the dorm. They held hands and kept their heads close together, whispering about something that I could have “spied” on if I’d gone inside Lissa’s head. They were still outraged over the Victor news.
I gave them their privacy and kept my distance, scouting while Eddie walked off to their side. Since there were more Moroi than dhampirs on campus, the Moroi actually had two side-by-side dorms. Lissa and Christian lived in different ones. The two of them stopped when they came to the spot outside the buildings where the path through the quad split. They kissed goodbye, and I did my best to do the guardian seeing-without-actually-seeing thing. Lissa called goodbye to me and then headed off to her dorm with Eddie. I followed Christian to his.
If I’d been guarding Adrian or someone like him, I would probably have had to put up with sexual jokes about us sleeping near each other for the next six weeks. But Christian treated me in the casual, brusque way one might a sister. He cleared a spot on the floor for me, and by the time he returned from brushing his teeth, I’d made myself a cozy bed out of blankets. He flipped off the lights and climbed into his own bed.
After several quiet moments, I asked, “Christian?”
“This is the time when we sleep, Rose.”
I yawned. “Believe me, I want that too. But I have a question.”
“Is it about Victor? Because I need to sleep, and that’s just going to piss me off again.”
“No, it’s about something else.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“Why didn’t you make fun of me over what happened with Stan? Everyone else is trying to figure out if I messed up or did it on purpose. Lissa gave me a hard time. Adrian did a little. And the guardians . . . well, never mind about them. But you didn’t say anything. I figured you’d be the first one with a snappy comment.”
More silence fell, and I hoped he was thinking about his answer and not falling asleep.
“There was no point in giving you a hard time,” he said at last. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Why not? I mean, not that I’m contradicting you—because I didn’t do it on purpose—but why are you so sure?”
“Because of our conversation in culinary science. And because of the way you are. I saw you in Spokane. Anyone who did what you did to save us . . . well, you wouldn’t do something childish like this.”
“Wow. Thanks. I . . . well, that means a lot.” Christian believed me when no one else did. “You’re like the first person who actually believes I just messed up without any ulterior motives.”
“Well,” he said, “I don’t believe that either.”
“Believe what? That I messed up? Why not?”
“Weren’t you just listening? I saw you in Spokane. Someone like you doesn’t mess up or freeze.” I started to give him the same line I’d given the guardians, that killing Strigoi didn’t make me invincible, but he cut me off: “Plus, I saw your face out there.”
“Out . . . on the quad?”
“Yeah.” Several more quiet moments passed. “I don’t know what happened, but the way you looked . . . that wasn’t the look of someone trying to get back at a person. It wasn’t the look of someone blanking out at Alto’s attack either. It was something different. . . . I don’t know. But you were completely consumed by something else—and honestly? Your expression? Kind of scary.”
“Yet . . . you aren’t giving me a hard time over that either.”
“Not my business. If it was big enough to take you over like that, then it must be serious. But if push comes to shove, I feel safe with you, Rose. I know you’d protect me if there was really a Strigoi there.” He yawned. “Okay. Now that I’ve bared my soul, can we please go to bed? Maybe you don’t need beauty sleep, but some of us aren’t that lucky.”
I let him sleep and soon gave into exhaustion myself. I’d had a long day and was still short on rest from the previous night. Once heavily asleep, I began to dream. As I did, I felt the telltale signs of one of Adrian’s contrived dreams.
“Oh no,” I groaned.
I stood in a garden in the middle of summer. The air was heavy and humid, and sunshine beat down on me in golden waves. Flowers of every color bloomed around me, and the air was heavy with the scent of lilacs and roses. Bees and butterflies danced from blossom to blossom. I wore jeans and a linen tank top. My nazar, a small blue eye made of glass that allegedly warded off evil, hung around my neck. I also wore a beaded bracelet with a cross, called a chotki, on my wrist. It was a Dragomir heirloom Lissa had given me. I rarely wore jewelry in my daily duties, but it always showed up in these dreams.
“Where are you?” I called. “I know you’re here.”
Adrian stepped around from behind an apple tree that was thick with pink and white flowers. He wore jeans—something I’d never seen him in before. They looked good and were undoubtedly a designer brand. A dark green cotton T-shirt—also very simple—covered his upper body, and the sunlight brought out highlights of gold and chestnut in his brown hair.
“I told you to stay out of my dreams,” I said, putting my hands on my hips.
He gave me his lazy smile. “But how else are we supposed to talk? You didn’t seem very friendly earlier.”
“Maybe if you didn’t use compulsion on people, you’d have more friends.”
“I had to save you from yourself. Your aura was like a storm cloud.”
“Okay, for once, can we please not talk about auras and my impending doom?”
The look in his eyes told me he was actually really interested in that, but he let it go. “Okay. We can talk about other things.”
“But I don’t want to talk at all! I want to sleep.”
“You are sleeping.” Adrian smiled and walked over to study a flowering vine that was winding up a post. It had orange and yellow flowers shaped like trumpets. He gently ran his fingers over one of the flowers’ edges. “This was my grandmother’s garden.”
“Great,” I said, making myself comfortable against the apple tree. It looked like we could be here for a while. “Now I get to hear your family history.”
“Hey, she was a cool lady.”
“I’m sure she was. Can I go yet?”
His eyes were still on the vine’s blossoms. “You shouldn’t knock Moroi family trees. You don’t know anything about your father. For all you know, we could be related.”
“Would that mean you’d leave me alone?”
Strolling back over to me, he switched subjects as though there’d been no interruption. “Nah, don’t worry. I think we come from different trees. Isn’t your dad some Turkish guy anyway?”
“Yeah, according to my—Hey, are you staring at my chest?”
He was studying me closely, but his eyes were no longer on my face. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared.
“I’m staring at your shirt,” he said. “The color is all wrong.”
Reaching out, he touched the strap. Like ink spreading across paper, the ivory fabric turned the same shade of rich indigo as the vine’s blossoms. He narrowed his eyes like an expert artist studying his work.
“How’d you do that?” I exclaimed.
“It�
��s my dream. Hmm. You’re not a blue person. Well, at least not in the color sense. Let’s try this.” The blue lit up into a brilliant crimson. “Yes, that’s it. Red’s your color. Red like a rose, like a sweet, sweet Rose.”
“Oh man,” I said. “I didn’t know you could kick into crazy mode even in dreams.” He never got as dark and depressed as Lissa had last year, but spirit definitely made him weird sometimes.
He stepped back and threw his arms out. “I’m always crazy around you, Rose. Here, I’m going to write an impromptu poem for you.” He tipped his head back and shouted to the sky:
“Rose is in red
But never in blue
Sharp as a thorn
Fights like one too.”
Adrian dropped his arms and looked at me expectantly.
“How can a thorn fight?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Art doesn’t have to make sense, little dhampir. Besides, I’m supposed to be crazy, right?”
“Not the craziest I’ve ever seen.”
“Well,” he said, pacing over to study some hydrangeas, “I’ll work on that.”
I started to ask again about when I could go “back” to sleep, but our exchange brought something to my mind.
“Adrian . . . how do you know if you’re crazy or not?”
He turned from the flowers, a smile on his face. I could tell he was about to make a joke, but then he looked at me more closely. The smile faded, and he turned unusually serious.
“Do you think you’re crazy?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I said, looking down at the ground. I was barefoot, and sharp blades of grass tickled my feet. “I’ve been . . . seeing things.”
“People who are crazy rarely question whether they’re crazy,” he said wisely.
I sighed and looked back up at him. “That doesn’t really help me.”
He walked back over to me and rested a hand on my shoulder. “I don’t think you’re crazy, Rose. I think you’ve been through a lot, though.”
I frowned. “What’s that mean?”
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