Lissa put on a tight, polite smile for the queen and thanked her for the consideration. Lissa and I both understood what was going on. This was Tatiana’s game. Everyone was part of her plan, and there was no way to go against her. For a brief moment, Lissa had that strange thought again, of something Victor Dashkov had once said to her. Aside from his crazy killing and kidnapping schemes, Victor had also wanted to start a revolution among the Moroi. He thought the power distribution was off—something Lissa occasionally believed too—and that it was wielded unfairly by those with too much control. The moment was gone almost as soon as it came. Victor Dashkov was a crazy villain whose ideas deserved no acknowledgment.
Then, as soon as courtesy allowed, Lissa excused herself from the queen and headed across the room, feeling like she was going to explode with grief and anger. She nearly ran into Avery as she did.
“God,” said Avery. “Do you think Reed could embarrass me any more? Two people have tried to make conversation with him, and he keeps scaring them off. He actually just told Robin Badica to shut up. I mean, yeah, she was going on and on, but still. That is not cool.” Avery’s dramatic look of exasperation faded as she took in Lissa’s face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Lissa glanced at Tatiana and then turned back to Avery, taking comfort in her friend’s blue-gray eyes. “I need to get out of here.” Lissa took a deep, calming breath. “Remember all that good stuff you said you knew about? When is that going to happen?”
Avery smiled. “As soon as you want.”
I returned to myself, sitting there on the curb. My emotions were still going crazy, and my eyes were fighting off tears. My earlier doubts were confirmed: Lissa didn’t need me anymore ... and yet, I still had that feeling that there was something odd going on that I couldn’t quite put a finger on. I supposed her guilt over Mia’s comment or spirit side effects could be affecting her, but still . . . she wasn’t the same Lissa.
Footsteps on the pavement made me look up. Of all the people who might have found me, I would have expected Abe or maybe Viktoria. But it wasn’t.
It was Yeva.
The old woman stood there, a shawl draped over her narrow shoulders, and her sharp, cunning eyes looking down at me disapprovingly. I sighed.
“What happened? Did a house fall on your sister?” I asked. Maybe there was a benefit to our language barrier. She pursed her lips.
“You can’t stay here any longer,” she said.
My mouth dropped open.
“You . . . you speak English?”
She snorted. “Of course.”
I shot up. “All this time you’ve been pretending not to? You’ve been making Paul play translator?”
“It’s easier,” she said simply. “You avoid a lot of annoying conversation when you don’t speak the language. And I’ve found that Americans make the most annoying conversation of all.”
I was still aghast. “You don’t even know me! But from the first day, you’ve been giving me hell. Why? Why do you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you. But I am disappointed.”
“Disappointed? How?”
“I dreamed you would come.”
“I heard that. You dream a lot?”
“Sometimes,” she said. The moonlight glinted in her eyes, enhancing her otherworldly appearance. A chill ran down my spine. “Sometimes my dreams are true. Sometimes not. I dreamed Dimka was dead, but I didn’t want to believe it, not until I had proof. You were my proof.”
“And that’s why you were disappointed?”
Yeva drew the shawl more tightly around her. “No. In my dreams, you shone. You burned like a star, and I saw you as a warrior, someone who could do great deeds. Instead? You’ve sat around and moped. You’ve done nothing. You haven’t done what you came to do.”
I studied her, wondering if she really knew what she was talking about. “And what is that exactly?”
“You know what it is. I dreamed that, too.”
I waited for more. When it didn’t come, I laughed. “Nice vague answer. You’re as bad as any scam fortune-teller.”
Even in the darkness, I could see the anger kindle in her eyes. “You’ve come to search for Dimka. To try to kill him. You must find him.”
“What do you mean ‘try’?” I didn’t want to believe her, didn’t want to believe she might actually know my future. Nonetheless, I found myself getting hooked in. “Have you seen what happens? Do I kill him?”
“I can’t see everything.”
“Oh. Fantastic.”
“I only saw that you must find him.”
“But that’s all you’ve got? I already knew that!”
“It’s what I saw.”
I groaned. “Damn it, I don’t have time for these cryptic clues. If you can’t help me, then don’t say anything.”
She stayed quiet.
I slung my bag over my shoulder. “Fine. I’m leaving then.” And like that, I knew where I would go. “Tell the others . . . well, tell them thank you for everything. And that I’m sorry.”
“You’re doing the right thing,” she said. “This isn’t where you should be.”
“So I’ve heard,” I muttered, walking away.
I wondered if she’d say anything else: chastise me, curse me, give me more mysterious words of “wisdom.” But she stayed silent, and I didn’t look back.
I had no home, not here and not in America. The only thing left for me was to do what I’d come to do. I had told Abe I kept my promises. I would. I’d leave Baia like I told him. And I’d kill Dimitri, as I’d promised myself I would.
I knew where to go now. The address had never left my mind: 83 Kasakova. I didn’t know where it was, but once I reached the town’s center, I found a guy walking down the street who gave me directions. The address was close by, only about a mile, and I headed out at a brisk pace.
When I reached the house, I was glad to see that the lights were still on. Even as pissed off and raging as I was, I didn’t want to wake anyone up. I also didn’t want to speak to Nikolai and was relieved when Denis opened the door.
His expression was all astonishment when he saw me. Despite his bold words back at the church earlier, I don’t think he’d really believed I’d join him and the other unpromised ones. He was speechless, so I did the talking.
“I changed my mind. I’m coming with you.” I took a deep breath, bracing myself for what came next. I’d promised Abe I’d leave Baia—but I hadn’t promised to return to the U.S. “Take me to Novosibirsk.”
SIXTEEN
DENIS AND HIS TWO UNPROMISED friends, Artur and Lev, were ecstatic that I was going to be part of their posse. But if they expected me to share their crazy enthusiasm for reckless Strigoi hunting, they were about to be sorely disappointed. In fact, it didn’t take long after I joined them before they realized that I was approaching the hunt very differently than they were. Denis’s friend Lev had a car, and we took turns driving to Novosibirsk. The drive was about fifteen hours, and even though we stopped at a hotel for the night, it was still a lot of continuous time to be cooped up in a small space with three guys who couldn’t stop talking about all the Strigoi they were going to kill.
In particular, they kept trying to draw me out. They wanted to know about how many Strigoi I’d slain. They wanted to know what the battle at the Academy had been like. They wanted to know my methods. Anytime my mind turned to those topics, though, all I could think of was blood and grief. It was nothing I wanted to brag about, and it took about six hours on the road for them to finally figure out that they weren’t going to get much information from me.
Instead, they regaled me with tales of their own adventures. To be fair, they’d slain several Strigoi—but they’d lost a number of their friends, all of whom had been in their teens, like these guys. My experiences weren’t that dissimilar; I’d lost friends too. My losses had been a result of being outnumbered, though. Denis’s group’s casualties seemed to have been more due to rushing in to without thinking. Indeed, their
plan once we got to Novosibirsk wasn’t really that solid. They reiterated that Strigoi liked to hunt at places that were crowded at night, like dance clubs, or in remote places like alleys, that made for easy pickings. No one noticed as much when people disappeared from those kinds of places. So Denis’s plans mostly involved trolling those hot spots in the hopes that we’d run into Strigoi.
My initial thought was to immediately ditch this group and strike out on my own. After all, my main goal had been to simply get to Novosibirsk. With everything I’d learned now, it seemed logical that Siberia’s largest city would be the next best place to look. Then, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that jumping into the Strigoi scene alone would be as stupid as one of the unpromised gang’s plans. I could use their backup. Plus, since I didn’t actually know where Dimitri was yet, I had to come up with a method of getting some information. I’d need help for that.
We made it to Novosibirsk at the end of the second day of driving. Despite hearing about its size, I hadn’t imagined it would be anything like Moscow or Saint Petersburg. And true, it turned out to be not quite as large as they were, but it was still just as much a city, complete with skyscrapers, theaters, commuters, and the same beautiful architecture.
We crashed with a friend of theirs who had an apartment downtown, a dhampir named Tamara. Her English wasn’t very good, but from the sounds of it, she was another unpromised one and just as excited as everyone else to rid the world of Strigoi. She was a little older than the rest of us, which was why she had her own place, and was a cute brunette with freckles. It sounded as though she waited until whenever the guys came to town to hunt, which I took as a small blessing. At least she didn’t go out alone. She seemed particularly excited to have another girl around, but like the others, she quickly picked up that I didn’t share their enthusiasm.
When our first night of Strigoi hunting came around, I finally stepped up into a leadership position. The sudden change in behavior startled them at first, but they soon listened with rapt attention, still caught up in my superstar reputation.
“Okay,” I said, looking from face to face. We were in Tamara’s tiny living room, sitting in a circle. “Here’s how it’s going to work. We’re going to hit the nightclub scene as a group, patrolling it and the alleys behind it for—”
“Wait,” interrupted Denis. “We usually split up.”
“Which is why you get killed,” I snapped. “We’re going as a group.”
“Haven’t you killed Strigoi by yourself, though?” asked Lev. He was the tallest of the group, with a long and lanky figure that was almost Moroi-like.
“Yes, but I got lucky.” That, and I also just thought I was a better fighter than any of them. Call me arrogant, but I was a damned good guardian. Or near-guardian. “We’ll do better with all five of us. When we find Strigoi, we’ve got to make sure we take care of them in an isolated place.” I hadn’t forgotten Sydney’s warnings. “But before we kill them, I need to talk to them. It’ll be your job to restrain them.”
“Why?” asked Denis. “What do you have to say to them?”
“Actually, it’s what they have to say to me. Look, it won’t take long. And you’ll get to make your kill in the end, so don’t worry about it. But . . .” This next part went against my grand plans, but I knew I had to say it. I wouldn’t get them killed for the sake of my own quest. “If we get ourselves in a situation where you’re trapped or in immediate danger, forget the talking and restraining. Kill. Save yourself.”
Apparently, I seemed confident and badass enough that they decided to go along with whatever I said. Part of our plan involved going “undercover,” so to speak. Any Strigoi who was close or got a good enough look would immediately recognize us as dhampirs. It was important that we not attract any attention. We needed a Strigoi scanning for victims to pass right over us. We needed to look like other human club-goers.
So we dressed the part, and I was a bit astonished at how well the guys cleaned up. Denis, crazy or not, was particularly good-looking, sharing the same dark gold hair and brown eyes that his brother Nikolai had. My few changes of clothes weren’t quite up to partying standards, so Tamara delved into her wardrobe for me. She seemed to take a lot of delight in finding things for me to wear. We were actually similar in size, which was kind of amazing. With her tall, super-slim build, Lissa and I had never been able to share clothes. Tamara was my height and had a similar body type.
She first offered me a short, tight dress that was so similar to the one Viktoria had worn that I just shook my head and handed it back. The memories of our argument still hurt, and I wasn’t going to relive that night or in any way play blood whore dress-up. Instead, Tamara settled for dressing me in black jeans and a black tank top. I consented to hair and makeup too, and studying myself in the mirror, I had to admit she did a good job. As vain as it was, I liked looking good. I especially liked that the guys looked at me in a way that was admiring and respectful—but not like I was some piece of meat. Tamara offered me jewelry too, but the only thing I’d wear was the nazar around my neck. My stake required a jacket, but she found a sexy leather one that didn’t take away from the rest of the outfit’s appeal.
Setting out around midnight, I couldn’t help shaking my head. “We’re the goddamned hottest vampire hunters ever,” I muttered.
Denis led us to a club where they’d found Strigoi before. It was also apparently where one of their unpromised friends had been killed. It was in a seedy part of town, which I guess added to its appeal for Strigoi. A lot of the people there were middle- and upper-class young people, apparently drawn in by the “dangerous” aspect. If only they’d known just how dangerous it was. I’d made a lot of jokes to Dimitri about Russia and Eastern Europe being ten years behind in music, but when we entered, I discovered the ground-thumping techno song playing was something I’d heard in the U.S. just before leaving.
The place was crowded and dark, with flashing lights that were actually a little annoying to dhampir eyes. Our night vision would adapt to the darkness and then be blasted when a strobe light kicked on. In this case, I didn’t need my sight. My shadow-kissed senses didn’t feel any Strigoi in the area.
“Come on,” I said to the others. “Let’s dance for a while and wait. There are no Strigoi nearby.”
“How do you know?” asked Denis, staring at me in wonder.
“I just do. Stay together.”
Our little circle moved to the dance floor. It had been so long since I’d danced, and I was a bit surprised at how quickly I found myself getting into the rhythm. Part of me said I should have stayed ever vigilant, but my Strigoi alarm system would immediately snap me awake if any danger came. That nausea was kind of hard to ignore.
But after an hour of dancing, no Strigoi had appeared. We left the dance floor and started circling the club’s edges, then moved outside to sweep that area too. Nothing.
“Is there another club nearby?” I asked.
“Sure,” said Artur. He was stocky, with close-shaved hair and a ready smile. “A couple blocks over.”
We followed him and found a similar scene: another secret club hidden in a run-down building. More flashing lights. More crowds. More pounding music. Disturbingly, what started to bother me first was the smell. That many people generated a lot of sweat. I had no doubt even the humans could smell it. To us, it was cloying. Tamara and I exchanged looks and wrinkled our noses, needing no words to convey our disgust.
We moved to the dance floor again, and Lev started to leave to get a drink. I punched him in the arm.
He exclaimed something in Russian that I recognized as a swear word. “What was that for?” he asked.
“For being stupid! How do you expect to kill something that’s twice as fast as you while drunk?”
He shrugged, unconcerned, and I resisted the urge to hit him in the face this time. “One won’t hurt. Besides, there aren’t even any—”
“Be quiet!”
It was creeping over
me, that weird stirring in my stomach. Forgetting my cover, I stopped dancing, scanning the crowd for the source. While I was relying on my senses to feel Strigoi, spotting them in the crowd was a bit harder. I took a few steps toward the entrance, and my nausea lessened. I moved toward the bar, and the feeling increased.
“This way,” I told them. “Act like you’re still into the music.”
My tension was contagious, and I saw the anticipation sweep them—as well as a little fear. Good. Maybe they’d take this seriously. As we headed in the bar’s direction, I tried to keep my body language oriented toward it, like I was seeking a drink. All the while, my eyes swept the crowd’s periphery.
There. I had him. A male Strigoi was standing off in a corner, his arm around a girl close to my age. In the dim lighting, he almost seemed attractive. I knew closer examination would reveal the deathly pale skin and red eyes that all Strigoi had. The girl might not have been able to see them in the darkened club, or the Strigoi might have been using compulsion on her. Probably both, judging from the smile on her face. Strigoi were able to compel others just as well as a spirit user like Lissa could. Better, even. Before our eyes, I saw the Strigoi lead the girl down a small, unnoticed hallway. At the end, I could just make out a glowing exit sign. At least, I presumed it was an exit sign. The letters were Cyrillic.
“Any idea where that door goes?” I asked the others.
The guys shrugged, and Denis repeated my question to Tamara. She answered back, and he translated. “There’s a small alley out back where they keep trash. It’s between this building and a factory. No one’s usually there.”
“Can we get to it by going around the club?”
Denis waited for Tamara’s response. “Yes. It’s open on both sides.”
“Perfect.”
We hurried out of the club by the front door, and I divided our group into two. The plan was to come at the Strigoi from both sides and trap him in the middle—provided he and his victim were still out back. It was possible he could have led her elsewhere, but I thought it more likely he’d want to subdue her and get his blood right there, particularly if it was as deserted as Tamara said it usually was.
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