“I’m fine,” lied Lissa, who was watching her surroundings spin a little and seriously contemplating joining some girls dancing on a table across the courtyard.
Avery’s lips quirked into a smile, though her eyes showed a bit of worry. “Sure. Just don’t get sick or anything. That kind of thing gets around, and the last thing we need is everyone knowing that the Dragomir girl can’t hold her liquor. Your family has a fierce reputation to maintain.”
Lissa downed the drink. “Somehow, I doubt alcohol consumption is part of my family’s illustrious ancestry.”
Avery pushed Adrian over and lay down next to him on the lounge chair. “Hey, you’d be surprised. In ten years, this group will be your peers on the council. And you’ll be trying to pass some resolution, and they’ll be like, ‘Remember that time she got trashed and threw up at that party?’”
Lissa and Adrian both laughed at that. Lissa didn’t think she was going to get sick, but like everything else, she would worry about it later. The bright point of all this was that drinking was helping numb the memories of what had happened earlier in the day. Tatiana had introduced her to her future guardians: a seasoned guy named Grant and the “young lady,” who was named Serena. They had been nice enough, but their parallels to Dimitri and me had been overwhelming. Taking them on had seemed like a betrayal to us, yet Lissa had simply nodded and thanked Tatiana.
Later, Lissa had learned that Serena had originally been lined up to be the guardian for a girl she’d known her entire life. The girl wasn’t royal, but sometimes, depending on guardian numbers, even non-royals got assigned guardians—though never more than one. When positions for Lissa’s protection opened up, however, Tatiana had pulled Serena from the job with her friend. Serena had smiled and told Lissa it didn’t matter. Duty came first, she said, and she was happy to serve her. Yet Lissa felt bad, knowing it had to have been hard on both girls—and terribly unfair. But there it was again: an unfair balance of power with no one to really keep it in line.
Leaving that encounter, Lissa had cursed her own meekness. If she hadn’t had the courage to follow me, she thought, she should have at least put her foot down and demanded that Tatiana give her my mother instead. Then Serena could have gone back to her friend, and there’d be one friendship still left intact in the world.
The martini simultaneously seemed to numb the pain and make her feel worse, which honestly made no sense to Lissa. Whatever, she thought. And when she caught a glimpse of a server passing by, she waved him over to order more.
“Hey, can I—Ambrose?”
She stared in surprise at the guy standing before her. If there’d been a swimsuit calendar for hottest dhampir guys, this one would have been the cover model (aside from Dimitri—but then, I was biased). This guy’s name was Ambrose, and she and I had met him on our trip there together. He had deeply tanned skin and well-formed muscles underneath his gray button-down shirt. He was a particular oddity at Court, a dhampir who’d rejected guardian service and performed all sorts of tasks here, like giving massages and—if rumor was true—having “romantic encounters” with the queen. That one still made me cringe, and I’d run into some pretty disgusting things in my life.
“Princess Dragomir,” he said, flashing her one of his perfect white grins. “An unexpected surprise.”
“How have you been?” she asked, genuinely happy to see him.
“Good, good. I have the best job in the world, after all. And you?”
“Great,” she replied.
Ambrose paused, eyeing her. He didn’t drop that gorgeous grin, but Lissa could tell he didn’t agree with her. She could see the disapproval in his face. Avery accusing her of drinking too much was one thing. But some pretty dhampir servant? Unacceptable. Lissa’s demeanor grew cold, and she held out her glass.
“I need another martini,” she said, her voice as haughty as that of any perfect royal.
He sensed the change in her, and his friendly smile turned to one of polite indifference. “Right away.” He gave her a small bow and headed off to the bar.
“Jeez,” said Avery, watching admiringly as he walked away. “Why didn’t you introduce us to your friend?”
“He’s not my friend,” snapped Lissa. “He’s nobody.”
“Agreed,” said Adrian, putting an arm around Avery. “Why look elsewhere when you’ve got the best right here?” If I hadn’t known any better, I’d have sworn there was a hint of legitimate jealousy underneath his jovial tone. “Didn’t I go out of my way to bring you to breakfast with my aunt?”
Avery gave him a lazy smile. “That’s a good start. You’ve still got a ways to go to impress me, Ivashkov.” Her gaze drifted over Lissa’s head and turned surprised. “Hey, Jailbait’s here.”
Mia, with Jill in tow, came striding through the garden, indifferent to the shocked looks she received. The two of them were clearly out of place.
“Hey,” said Mia when she reached Lissa’s group. “My dad just got called away, and I have to go with him. I’ve got to give Jill back.”
“No problem,” said Lissa automatically, though she clearly wasn’t happy about Jill being there. Lissa still kept wondering if Christian had some special interest in her. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just business.”
Mia made her farewells to everyone and left the party as quickly as she’d come, rolling her eyes at the other royals’ sneers and shock as she passed.
Lissa turned her attention to Jill, who had sat gingerly in a nearby chair and was staring around her in wonder. “How’s it been? Did you have fun with Mia?”
Jill turned back to Lissa, face brightening. “Oh yeah. She’s really great. She’s done so much work with water. It’s crazy! And she taught me a few fighting moves, too. I can throw a right hook . . . although not very hard.”
Ambrose returned then with Lissa’s drink. He gave it to her wordlessly and softened a bit when he saw Jill. “You want anything?”
She shook her head. “No, thanks.”
Adrian was watching Jill carefully. “You okay here? Do you want me to take you back to guest housing?” Like before, his intentions weren’t romantic in the least. He seemed to regard her as a little sister, which I thought was cute. I hadn’t thought him capable of that kind of protective behavior.
She shook her head again. “It’s okay. I don’t want you to have to leave . . . unless . . .” Her expression grew worried. “Do you want me to go?”
“Nah,” said Adrian. “It’s nice to have someone responsible around in the midst of all this madness. You should get yourself some food, if you’re hungry.”
“You’re so motherly,” teased Avery, echoing my thoughts.
For whatever reason, Lissa took Adrian’s “responsible” comment personally, like he was directly slamming her. I didn’t think that was the case at all, but she wasn’t really thinking all that clearly. Deciding she wanted some food herself, she got up and wandered over to the table in the courtyard’s garden that had trays of appetizers on it. Well, it had earlier. Now the table was being used by the dancing girls Lissa had noticed before. Someone had cleared space by moving all the trays of food to the ground. Lissa leaned over and picked up a mini sandwich, watching the girls and wondering how they could find any sort of beat in that royal guy’s horrible music.
One of the girls spotted Lissa and grinned. She extended a hand. “Hey, come on up.”
Lissa had met her once but couldn’t recall her name. Dancing suddenly seemed like a great idea. Lissa finished the sandwich and, drink in hand, allowed herself to be pulled up. This got a few cheers from people gathered around. Lissa discovered that the crappy music was irrelevant and found herself getting into it. Her and the other girls’ moves varied from overtly sexual to mockeries of disco. It was all fun, and Lissa wondered if Avery would claim this would haunt her in ten years too.
After a while, she and the others actually attempted some synchronized moves. They started by swaying their arms in the air and then moved
on to some chorus line kicks. Those kicks proved disastrous. A misstep—Lissa was wearing heels—suddenly sent her over the table’s edge. She lost the drink and nearly collapsed before a pair of arms caught her and kept her upright. “My hero,” she muttered. Then she got a good look at her savior’s face. “Aaron?”
Lissa’s ex-boyfriend—and the first guy she’d ever slept with—looked down at her with a smile and released her once he seemed certain she could stand. Blond-haired and blue-eyed, Aaron was handsome in a surfer kind of way. I couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if Mia had seen him. She, Aaron, and Lissa had once been involved in a triangle worthy of any soap opera.
“What are you doing here? We thought you disappeared,” Lissa said. Aaron had left the Academy a few months ago.
“I’m going to school out in New Hampshire,” he replied. “We’re here visiting family.”
“Well, it’s great to see you,” said Lissa. Things hadn’t ended well between them, but in her current state, she meant her words. She’d had enough booze to think it was great to see everyone at the party.
“You too,” he said. “You look amazing.”
His words struck her more than she would have expected, probably because everyone else here had implied that she looked trashed and irresponsible. And breakup or no, she couldn’t help but recall how attractive she’d once found him. Honestly, she still found him attractive. She just didn’t love him anymore.
“You should stay in touch,” she said. “Let us know what’s going on.” For a moment, she wondered if she should have said that, in light of having a boyfriend. Then she dismissed her worries. There was nothing wrong with hanging out with other guys—particularly since Christian hadn’t cared enough to come with her on this trip.
“I’d like that,” Aaron said. There was something in his eyes she found pleasurably disconcerting. “I don’t suppose, though, that I could get a goodbye kiss, seeing as I rescued you and all?”
The idea was preposterous—then, after a moment, Lissa laughed. What did it matter? Christian was the one she loved, and a kiss between friends would mean nothing. Looking up, she let Aaron lean down and cup her face. Their lips met, and there was no denying it: The kiss lasted a bit longer than a friendly one. When it ended, Lissa found herself smiling like a dazed schoolgirl—which, technically, she was.
“See you around,” she said, heading back toward her friends.
Avery wore a chastising look, but it wasn’t over Aaron and the kiss. “Are you crazy? You nearly broke your leg. You can’t do that kind of thing.”
“You’re supposed to be the fun one,” pointed out Lissa. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Fun isn’t the same as stupid,” Avery retorted, face serious. “You can’t go do stupid shit like that. I think we should get you home.”
“I’m fine,” said Lissa. She stubbornly looked away from Avery and instead focused on some guys who were doing shots of tequila. They were having some sort of competition—and half of them looked ready to pass out.
“Define ‘fine,’” said Adrian wryly. Yet he looked concerned too.
“I’m fine,” Lissa repeated. Her gaze snapped back to Avery. “I didn’t get hurt at all.” She’d expected grief about Aaron and was surprised they hadn’t given it to her—which made it even more surprising when it came from another source.
“You kissed that guy!” exclaimed Jill, leaning forward. Her face was aghast, and she displayed none of her usual reticence.
“It was nothing,” said Lissa, who was irked to have Jill reprimanding her of all people. “Certainly none of your business.”
“But you’re with Christian! How could you do that to him?”
“Relax, Jailbait,” said Avery. “A drunken kiss is nothing compared to a drunken fall. God knows I’ve kissed plenty of guys drunk.”
“And yet, I remain unkissed tonight,” mused Adrian, with a shake of his head.
“It doesn’t matter.” Jill was really worked up. She’d grown to like and respect Christian. “You cheated on him.”
With those words, Jill might as well have practiced her right hook on Lissa. “I did not!” Lissa exclaimed. “Don’t drag your crush on him into this and imagine things that aren’t there.”
“I didn’t imagine that kiss,” said Jill, flushing.
“That kiss is the least of our worries,” sighed Avery. “I’m serious—just let it go for now, you guys. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“But—” began Jill.
“You heard her. Let it go,” a new voice growled. Reed Lazar had appeared out of nowhere and was looming over Jill, face as hard and scary as ever.
Jill’s eyes went wide. “I’m just telling the truth. . . .” I had to admire her courage here, considering her normally timid nature.
“You’re pissing everyone off,” said Reed, leaning closer and clenching his fists. “And you’re pissing me off.” I was pretty sure this was the most I’d ever heard him say. I tended to kind of think of him as a caveman, stringing three-word sentences together.
“Whoa.” Adrian leapt up and rushed to Jill’s side. “You need to let this go. What, are you going to start a fight with some girl?”
Reed turned his glare on Adrian. “Stay out of this.”
“The hell I will! You’re crazy.”
If anyone had asked me to make up a list of people most likely to risk a fight in defense of a lady’s honor, Adrian Ivashkov would have been low on that list. Yet there he stood, face hard and hand sitting protectively on Jill’s shoulder. I was in awe. And impressed.
“Reed,” cried Avery. She too had risen and now stood on Jill’s other side. “She didn’t mean anything. Back off.”
The two siblings stood there, eyes locked in some kind of silent showdown. Avery wore the harshest look I’d ever seen on her, and at last, he glowered and stepped back. “Fine. Whatever.”
The group stared in amazement as he walked abruptly away. The music was so loud that only a few of the partygoers had overhead the argument. They stopped and stared, and Avery looked embarrassed as she sank back in her chair. Adrian still stood by Jill. “What the hell was that?” Adrian demanded.
“I don’t know,” Avery admitted. “He gets weird and overprotective sometimes.” She gave Jill an apologetic smile. “I’m really sorry.”
Adrian shook his head. “I think it’s time for us to go.”
Even in her drunken state, Lissa had to agree. The confrontation with Reed had shocked her into soberness, and she was suddenly uneasily evaluating her actions tonight. The glittering lights and fancy cocktails of the party had lost their charm. The drunken antics of the other royals seemed clumsy and stupid. She had a feeling she might regret this party tomorrow.
Once back in my own head, I felt fear set in. Okay. Something was very wrong with Lissa, and no one else seemed to notice it—well, not to the extent they should have. Adrian and Avery did seem concerned, but I had the feeling they were blaming her behavior on the drinking. Lissa was still reminding me a lot of how she’d been when we’d first returned to St. Vladimir’s, when spirit had been seizing her and messing with her mind. Except . . . I knew enough about myself now to realize that my anger and fixation on punishing Strigoi was being influenced by spirit’s dark side too. That meant I was draining it away from her. It should have been leaving Lissa, not building up. So what was wrong with her? Where was this short-tempered, crazy, and jealous persona coming from? Was spirit’s darkness simply growing in intensity so that it spread to both of us? Were we splitting it?
“Rose?”
“Huh?” I glanced up from where I’d been staring blankly at the TV. Denis was looking down at me, his cell phone in his hand.
“Tamara had to work late. She’s ready to go now, but . . .”
He nodded toward the window. The sun was almost down, the sky purple, with only a little orange on the horizon. Tamara worked within walking distance, and while there probably wasn’t any real danger, I didn’t want her
out alone after sunset. I stood up. “Come on, we’ll go get her.” To Lev and Artur I said, “You guys can stay here.”
Denis and I walked the half-mile to the small office where Tamara worked. She did assorted clerical tasks, like filing and copying, and there’d apparently been some project that kept her there late tonight. We met her at the door and walked back to the apartment without incident, talking animatedly about our hunting plans for the evening. When we reached Tamara’s building, I heard a strange wailing across the street. We all turned, and Denis chuckled.
“Good God, it’s that crazy woman again,” I muttered.
Tamara didn’t live in a bad part of town but, as in any city, there were homeless people and panhandlers. The woman we watched was almost as ancient as Yeva, and she regularly walked up and down the street, muttering to herself. Today, she lay on her back on the sidewalk, making strange noises while waving her limbs like a turtle.
“Is she hurt?” I asked.
“Nope. Just crazy,” said Denis. He and Tamara turned to go inside, but some soft part of me couldn’t abandon her. I sighed.
“I’ll be right in.”
The street was quiet (aside from the old lady) and I cut across without fear of traffic. Reaching the woman, I held out my hand to help her out, trying not to think about how dirty hers was. Like Denis had said, she merely appeared to be in crazy mode today. She wasn’t hurt; she’d apparently just decided to lie down. I shuddered. I tossed the word crazy around a lot when it came to Lissa and me, but this was truly crazy. I really, really hoped spirit never took us this far. The homeless lady looked surprised at the help but took my hand and began talking excitedly in Russian. When she tried to hug me in gratitude, I stepped back and held up my hands in the international “back off” signal.
She did indeed back off but continued chatting happily. She grabbed the sides of her long coat and held them out like a ball-room skirt and began spinning around and singing. I laughed, surprised that in my grim world, this would cheer me up. I started to cross back over to Tamara’s place. The old woman stopped dancing and began talking happily to me again.
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