“What’s happening?” she asked.
I didn’t answer. Instead, I turned and ran backwards, back toward the wards. She ran after me, calling my name. No one else noticed us because honestly, who in the world was stupid enough to cross the wards after everything that had happened?
I was, although in daylight, I had nothing to fear. I ran past the place Jesse’s group had attacked her, stepping across the invisible lines that marked the boundaries of the Academy’s grounds. Lissa hesitated a moment and then joined me. She was breathless from running after me.
“Rose, what are you—”
“Mason!” I cried. “Mason, I need you.”
It took him a little while to materialize. This time, he not only seemed ultra-pale, he also appeared to be flickering, like a light about to go out. He stood there, watching me, and although his expression was the same as always, I had the weirdest feeling that he knew what I was going to ask. Lissa, beside me, kept glancing back and forth between me and the spot I was speaking to.
“Mason, is Dimitri dead?”
Mason shook his head.
“Is he alive?”
Mason shook his head.
Neither alive nor dead. The world swam around me, sparkles of color dancing before my eyes. The lack of food had made me dizzy, and I was on the verge of fainting. I had to stay in control here. I had to ask the next question. Out of all the victims . . . out of all the victims they could have chosen, surely they wouldn’t have picked him.
The next words stuck in my throat, and I sank to my knees as I spoke them.
“Is he . . . is Dimitri a Strigoi?”
Mason hesitated only a moment, like he was afraid to answer me, and then—he nodded.
My heart shattered. My world shattered.
You will lose what you value most. . . .
It hadn’t been me that Rhonda was talking about. It hadn’t even been Dimitri’s life.
What you value most.
It had been his soul.
TWENTY-NINE
NEARLY A WEEK LATER, I showed up at Adrian’s door.
We hadn’t had classes since the attack, but our normal curfew hours were still in effect, and it was almost bedtime. Adrian’s face registered complete and total shock when he saw me. It was the first time I’d ever sought him out, rather than vice versa.
“Little dhampir,” he said, stepping aside. “Come in.”
I did, and was nearly overwhelmed by the smell of alcohol as I passed him. The Academy’s guest housing was nice, but he clearly hadn’t done much to keep his suite clean. I had a feeling he’d probably been drinking nonstop since the attack. The TV was on, and a small table by the couch held a half-empty bottle of vodka. I picked it up and read the label. It was in Russian.
“Bad time?” I asked, setting it back down.
“Never a bad time for you,” he told me gallantly. His face looked haggard. He was still as good-looking as ever, but there were dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t been sleeping well. He waved me toward an armchair and sat down on the couch. “Haven’t seen much of you.”
I leaned back. “I haven’t wanted to be seen,” I admitted.
I’d hardly spoken to anyone since the attack. I’d spent a lot of time by myself or with Lissa. I took comfort from being around her, but we hadn’t said much. She understood that I needed to process things and had simply been there for me, not pushing me on things I didn’t want to talk about—even though there were a dozen things she wanted to ask.
The Academy’s dead had been honored in one group memorial service, although their families had made arrangements for each person’s respective funeral. I’d gone to the larger service. The chapel had been packed, with standing room only. Father Andrew had read the names of the dead, listing Dimitri and Molly among them. No one was talking about what had really happened to them. There was too much other grief anyway. We were drowning in it. No one even knew how the Academy would pick up the pieces and start running again.
“You look worse than I do,” I told Adrian. “I didn’t think that was possible.”
He brought the bottle to his lips and took a long drink. “Nah, you always look good. As for me . . . well, it’s hard to explain. The auras are getting to me. There’s so much sorrow around here. You can’t even begin to understand. It radiates from everyone on a spiritual level. It’s overwhelming. It makes your dark aura downright cheerful.”
“Is that why you’re drinking?”
“Yup. It’s shut my aura-vision right off, thankfully, so I can’t give you a report today.” He offered me the bottle, and I shook my head. He shrugged and took another drink. “So what can I do for you, Rose? I have a feeling you aren’t here to check on me.”
He was right, and I only felt a little bad about what I was here for. I’d done a lot of thinking this last week. Processing my grief for Mason had been hard. In fact, I hadn’t even really quite resolved it when the ghost business had started. Now I had to mourn all over again. After all, more than Dimitri had been lost. Teachers had died, guardians and Moroi alike. None of my close friends had died, but people I knew from classes had. They’d been students at the Academy as long as I had, and it was weird to think I’d never see them again. That was a lot of loss to deal with, a lot of people to say goodbye to.
But . . . Dimitri. He was a different case. After all, how did you say goodbye to someone who wasn’t exactly gone? That was the problem.
“I need money,” I told Adrian, not bothering with pretense.
He arched an eyebrow. “Unexpected. From you, at least. I get that kind of request a lot from others. Pray tell, what would I be funding?”
I glanced away from him, focusing on the television. It was a commercial for some kind of deodorant.
“I’m leaving the Academy,” I said finally.
“Also unexpected. You’re only a few months out from graduation.”
I met his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. I have things to do now.”
“I never figured you’d be one of the dropout guardians. You going to join the blood whores?”
“No,” I said. “Of course not.”
“Don’t act so offended. That’s not an unreasonable assumption. If you’re not going to be a guardian, what else are you going to do?”
“I told you. I have things I have to take care of.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Things that are going to get you into trouble?”
I shrugged. He laughed.
“Stupid question, huh? Everything you do gets you in trouble.” He propped his elbow up on the couch’s arm and rested his chin in his hand. “Why’d you come to me for money?”
“Because you have it.”
This also made him laugh. “And why do you think I’ll give it to you?”
I didn’t say anything. I just looked at him, forcing as much womanly charm as I could into my expression. His smile went away, and his green eyes narrowed in frustration. He jerked his gaze away.
“Damn it, Rose. Don’t do that. Not now. You’re playing on how I feel about you. That’s not fair.” He gulped more vodka.
He was right. I’d come to him because I thought I could use his crush to get what I wanted. It was low, but I had no choice. Getting up, I moved over and sat beside him. I held his hand.
“Please, Adrian,” I said. “Please help me. You’re the only one I can go to.”
“That’s not fair,” he repeated, slurring his words a little. “You’re using those come-hither eyes on me, but it’s not me you want. It’s never been me. It’s always been Belikov, and God only knows what you’ll do now that he’s gone.”
He was right about that too. “Will you help me?” I asked, still playing up the charisma. “You’re the only one I could talk to . . . the only one who really understands me. . . .”
“Are you coming back?” he countered.
“Eventually.”
Tipping his head back, he exhaled a heavy breath. His hair, which I’d always thought looked stylis
hly messy, simply looked messy today. “Maybe it’s for the best if you leave. Maybe you’ll get over him faster if you go away for a while. Wouldn’t hurt to be away from Lissa’s aura either. It might slow yours from darkening—stop this rage you always seem to be in. You need to be happier. And stop seeing ghosts.”
My seduction faltered for a moment. “Lissa isn’t why I’m seeing ghosts. Well, she is, but not in the way you think. I see the ghosts because I’m shadow-kissed. I’m tied to the world of the dead, and the more I kill, the stronger that connection becomes. It’s why I see the dead and why I feel weird when Strigoi are near. I can sense them now. They’re tied to that world too.”
He frowned. “You’re saying the auras mean nothing? That you aren’t taking away the effects of spirit?”
“No. That’s happening too. That’s why this has all been so confusing. I thought there was just one thing going on, but there’ve been two. I see the ghosts because of being shadow-kissed. I’m getting . . . upset and angry . . . bad, even . . . because I’m taking away Lissa’s dark side. That’s why my aura’s darkening, why I’m getting so enraged lately. Right now, it just sort of plays out as a really bad temper. . . .” I frowned, thinking of the night Dimitri had stopped me from going after Jesse. “But I don’t know what it’ll turn into next.”
Adrian sighed. “Why is everything so complicated with you?”
“Will you help me? Please, Adrian?” I ran my fingers along his hand. “Please help me.”
Low, low. This was so low of me, but it didn’t matter. Only Dimitri did.
Finally, Adrian looked back at me. For the first time ever, he looked vulnerable. “When you come back, will you give me a fair shot?”
I hid my surprise. “What do you mean?”
“It’s like I said. You’ve never wanted me, never even considered me. The flowers, the flirting . . . it rolled right off you. You were so gone for him, and nobody noticed. If you go do your thing, will you take me seriously? Will you give me a chance when you return?”
I stared. I definitely hadn’t expected this. My initial instinct was to say no, that I could never love anybody again, that my heart had been shattered along with that piece of my soul that Dimitri held. But Adrian was looking at me so earnestly, and there was none of his joking nature. He meant what he said, and I realized all the affection for me he’d always teased about hadn’t been a joke either. Lissa had been right about his feelings.
“Will you?” he repeated.
God only knows what you’ll do now that he’s gone.
“Of course.” Not an honest answer, but a necessary one.
Adrian looked away and drank more vodka. There wasn’t much left. “When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow.”
Setting the bottle down, he stood up and walked off into the bedroom. He returned with a large stack of cash. I wondered if he kept it under his bed or something. He handed it to me wordlessly and then picked up the phone and made some calls. The sun was up, and the human world, which handled most Moroi money, was also up and awake.
I tried to watch TV while he talked, but I couldn’t concentrate. I kept wanting to scratch the back of my neck. Because there was no way of knowing exactly how many Strigoi I and the others had killed, we’d all been given a different kind of tattoo instead of the usual set of molnija marks. I’d forgotten its name, but this tattoo looked like a little star. It meant that the bearer had been in a battle and killed many Strigoi.
When he finally finished his calls, Adrian handed me a piece of paper. It had the name and address of a bank in Missoula.
“Go there,” he said. “I’m guessing you have to go to Missoula first anyway if you’re actually going on to anywhere civilized. There’s an account set up for you with . . . a lot of money in it. Talk to them, and they’ll finish the paperwork with you.”
I stood up and stuffed the bills in my jacket. “Thank you,” I said.
Without hesitating, I reached out and hugged him. The scent of vodka was overpowering, but I felt I owed him. I was taking advantage of his feelings for me in order to further my own devices. He put his arms around me and held me for several seconds before letting go. I brushed my lips against his cheek as we broke apart, and I thought he might stop breathing.
“I won’t forget this,” I murmured in his ear.
“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me where you’re going?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“Just keep your promise and come back.”
“I didn’t actually use the word promise,” I pointed out.
He smiled and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You’re right. I’m going to miss you, little dhampir. Be careful. If you ever need anything, let me know. I’ll be waiting for you.”
I thanked him again and left, not bothering to tell him he might be waiting a long time. There was a very real possibility that I might not be coming back.
The next day, I got up early, long before most of campus was awake. I’d hardly slept. I slung a bag over my shoulder and walked over to the main office in the administrative building. The office wasn’t open yet either, so I sat down on the floor in the hallway outside of it. Studying my hands as I waited, I noticed two tiny flecks of gold on my thumbnail. They were the only remnants of my manicure. About twenty minutes later, the secretary showed up with the keys and let me in.
“What can I do for you?” she asked, once she was seated at her desk.
I handed her a stack of papers I’d been holding. “I’m withdrawing.”
Her eyes widened to impossible size. “But . . . what . . . you can’t . . .”
I tapped the stack. “I can. It’s all filled out.”
Still gaping, she muttered something to me about waiting, and then scurried out of the room. A few minutes later, she returned with Headmistress Kirova. Kirova had apparently been briefed and was looking at me very disapprovingly down her beaklike nose.
“Miss Hathaway, what’s the meaning of this?”
“I’m leaving,” I said. “Quitting. Dropping out. Whatever.”
“You can’t do that,” she said.
“Well, obviously I can, since you guys keep withdrawal paperwork in the library. It’s all filled out the way it needs to be.”
Her anger changed into something sadder and more anxious. “I know a lot has gone on lately—we’re all having trouble adjusting—but that’s no reason to make a hasty decision. If anything, we need you more than ever.” She was almost pleading. Hard to believe she’d wanted to expel me six months ago.
“This wasn’t hasty,” I said. “I thought a lot about it.”
“Let me at least get your mother so we can talk this out.”
“She left for Europe three days ago. Not that it matters anyway.” I pointed to the line on the top form that said date of birth. “I’m eighteen today. She can’t do anything anymore. This is my choice. Now, will you stamp the form, or are you actually going to try to restrain me? Pretty sure I could take you in a fight, Kirova.”
They stamped my packet, not happily. The secretary made a copy of the official paper that declared I was no longer a student at St. Vladimir’s Academy. I’d need it to get out the main gate.
It was a long walk to the front of the school, and the western sky was red as the sun slipped over the horizon. The weather had warmed up, even at night. Spring had finally come. It made for good walking weather since I had a ways to go before I made it to the highway. From there, I’d hitchhike to Missoula. Hitchhiking wasn’t safe, but the silver stake in my coat pocket made me feel pretty secure about anything I’d face. No one had taken it away from me after the raid, and it would work just as well against creepy humans as it did with Strigoi.
I could just make out the gates when I sensed her. Lissa. I stopped walking and turned toward a cluster of bud-covered trees. She’d been standing in them, perfectly still, and had managed to hide her thoughts so well that I hadn’t realized she was practically right next to me. H
er hair and eyes glowed in the sunset, and she seemed too beautiful and too ethereal to be part of this dreary landscape.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey.” She wrapped her arms around herself, cold even in her coat. Moroi didn’t have the same resistance to temperature changes that dhampirs did. What I found warm and springlike was still chilly to her. “I knew it,” she said. “Ever since that day they said his body was gone. Something told me you’d do this. I was just waiting.”
“Can you read my mind now?” I asked ruefully.
“No, I can just read you. Finally. I can’t believe how blind I was. I can’t believe I never noticed. Victor’s comment . . . he was right.” She glanced off at the sunset, then turned her gaze back on me. A flash of anger, both in her feelings and her eyes, hit me. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she cried. “Why didn’t you tell me you loved Dimitri?”
I stared. I couldn’t remember the last time Lissa had yelled at anyone. Maybe last fall, when all the Victor insanity had gone down. Loud outbursts were my thing, not hers. Even when torturing Jesse, her voice had been deadly quiet.
“I couldn’t tell anyone,” I said.
“I’m your best friend, Rose. We’ve been through everything together. Do you really think I would have told? I would have kept it secret.”
I looked at the ground. “I know you would have. I just . . . I don’t know. I couldn’t talk about it. Not even to you. I can’t explain it.”
“How . . .” She groped for the question her mind had already formed. “How serious was it? Was it just you or—?”
“It was both of us,” I told her. “He felt the same. But we knew we couldn’t be together, not with our age . . . and, well, not when we were supposed to be protecting you.”
Lissa frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Dimitri always said that if we were involved, we’d worry more about protecting each other than you. We couldn’t do that.”
Guilt coursed through her at the thought that she’d been responsible for keeping us apart.
“It’s not your fault,” I said quickly.
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