“She’s Strigoi?”
“Yes. She was awakened several years ago, in a fight in Prague. She’s relatively young for a Strigoi, but she’s risen in power. All of this is hers.” Dimitri gestured around us.
“And you live with her?” I asked, curious in spite of myself. I wondered exactly what kind of relationship they had, and to my surprise, I felt . . . jealous. Not that I had reason to. He was a Strigoi, beyond me now. And it wouldn’t be the first time a teacher and student had gotten together. . . .
“I work for her. She was another reason I returned here when I was awakened. I knew she was Strigoi, and I wanted her guidance.”
“And you wanted to get away from me. That was the other reason, right?”
His only answer was a nod of his head. No elaboration.
“Where are we? We’re far from Novosibirsk, right?”
“Yes. Galina’s estate is outside the city.”
“How far?”
That smile twisted a little. “I know what you’re doing, and I’m not going to give you that sort of information.”
“Then what are you doing?” I demanded, all of my pent-up fear bursting out as anger. “Why are you holding me here? Kill me or let me go. And if you’re going to just lock me up and torture me with mind games or whatever, then I really would rather you kill me.”
“Brave words.” He stood up and began pacing once more. “I almost believe you.”
“They’re true,” I replied defiantly. “I came here to kill you. And if I can’t do that, then I’d rather die.”
“You failed, you know. On the street.”
“Yeah. I kind of figured that out when I woke up here.”
Dimitri made an abrupt turn and was suddenly standing in front of me, moving with that lightning-fast Strigoi speed. My Strigoi-nausea had never gone away, but the more time I spent with him, the more it faded to a low-level sort of background noise that I could more or less ignore.
“I’m a little disappointed. You’re so good, Rose. So very, very good. You and your friends going around and taking down Strigoi caused quite a stir, you know. Some Strigoi were even afraid.”
“But not you?”
“When I heard it was you . . . hmm.” He turned thoughtful, eyes narrowing. “No. I was curious. Wary. If anyone could have killed me, it would have been you. But like I said, you hesitated. It was your ultimate test of my lessons, and you failed.”
I kept my face blank. Inside, I was still beating myself up over that moment of weakness on the street. “I won’t hesitate next time.”
“There won’t be a next time. And anyway, as disappointed as I am in you, I’m still glad to be alive, of course.”
“You aren’t alive,” I said through gritted teeth. God, he was so, so close to me again. Even with the changes to his face, the lean and muscled body was the same. “You’re dead. Unnatural. You told me a long time ago you’d rather die than be like this. That’s why I’m going to kill you.”
“You’re only saying that because you don’t know any better. I didn’t either back then.”
“Look, I meant what I said. I’m not playing your game. If I can’t get out of here, then just kill me, okay?”
Without warning, he reached out and ran his fingers along the side of my face. I gasped. His hand was ice cold, but the way he touched me . . . again, it was the same. Exactly the same as I remembered. How was this possible? So similar . . . yet so different. All of a sudden, another of his lessons came to mind, about how Strigoi could seem so, so like those you’d once known. It was why it was so easy to hesitate.
“Killing you . . . well, it’s not that simple,” he said. His voice dropped to a low whisper again, like a snake slithering against my skin. “There’s a third option. I could awaken you.”
I froze and stopped breathing altogether.
“No.” It was the only thing I could say. My brain couldn’t come up with anything more complex, nothing witty or clever. His words were too terrifying to even begin to ponder. “No.”
“You don’t know what it’s like. It’s . . . amazing. Transcendent. All your senses are alive; the world is more alive—”
“Yeah, but you’re dead.”
“Am I?”
He caught hold of my hand and placed it over his chest. In it, I could feel a steady beating. My eyes widened.
“My heart beats. I’m breathing.”
“Yeah, but . . .” I tried desperately to think of everything I’d ever been taught about Strigoi. “It’s not really being alive. It’s . . . it’s dark magic reanimating you. It’s an illusion of life.”
“It’s better than life.” Both of his hands moved up and cupped my face. His heartbeat might have been steady, but mine was racing. “It’s like being a god, Rose. Strength. Speed. Able to perceive the world in ways you could never imagine. And . . . immortality. We could be together forever.”
Once, that was all I’d ever wanted. And deep inside of me, some part still wished for that, wished desperately to be with him for all time. Yet . . . it wouldn’t be the way I wanted it. It wouldn’t be like it used to be. This would be something different. Something wrong. I swallowed.
“No . . .” I could barely hear my own voice, barely even form the words with him touching me like that. His fingertips were so light and gentle. “We can’t be.”
“We could.” One of his fingers trailed down the side of my chin and came to rest on the artery in my neck. “I could do it quickly. There’d be no pain. It’d be done before you even knew it.” He was probably right. If you were forced to become Strigoi, you had the blood drained from you. Then a Strigoi would usually cut himself and bring that blood to your lips. Somehow, I imagined I’d pass out before I was even half-drained.
Together forever.
The world blurred a little. I don’t know if it was because of my head trauma or the terror coursing through my body. I had envisioned a hundred scenarios when I set out after Dimitri. Becoming a Strigoi hadn’t been one of them. Death—his or mine—had been the only thought consuming me, which had been stupid on my part.
My sluggish thoughts were interrupted when the door suddenly opened. Dimitri turned, shoving me away hard so that he stood protectively in front of me. Two people entered, shutting the door before I could even consider running for it. One of the newcomers was a Strigoi, a guy. The other was a human woman carrying a tray, her head bowed down.
I recognized the Strigoi immediately. It was hard not to; his face haunted my dreams. Blond hair, about the length of Dimitri’s, hung over the side of a face that looked like he’d been in his early twenties when he turned. He had apparently seen Lissa and me when we were younger, but I had only seen him twice before. Once had been when I fought him on the Academy’s grounds. The other time was when I’d encountered him in the cave that other Strigoi were using as a hangout.
He was the one who had bitten and turned Dimitri.
The guy barely spared me a glance and instead turned the full force of his anger on Dimitri. “What the hell is going on?” I had no trouble understanding him. He was American. “You’re keeping some pet up here?”
“It’s none of your concern, Nathan.” Dimitri’s voice was ice. Earlier, I’d thought he conveyed no emotion in his words. Now I realized it was just more difficult to detect. There was a clear challenge in his voice now, a warning for this other guy to back off. “Galina gave me permission.”
Nathan’s eyes drifted from Dimitri to me. His anger turned to shock. “Her?”
Dimitri shifted slightly, putting himself directly in front of me now. Some rebellious part wanted to snap that I didn’t need a Strigoi’s protection, except . . . well, I kind of did.
“She was at the school in Montana. . . . We fought. . . .” His lips curled back, showing his fangs. “I would have tasted her blood if that fire-using Moroi brat hadn’t been around.”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with you,” replied Dimitri.
Nathan’s red eyes were w
ide and eager. “Are you kidding? She can lead us to the Dragomir girl! If we finish that line off, our names will be legendary. How long are you going to keep her?”
“Get out,” growled Dimitri. “That’s not a request.”
Nathan pointed at me. “She’s valuable. If you’re going to keep her around as some blood whore plaything, at least share. Then, we’ll get the information and finish her.”
Dimitri took a step forward. “Get out of here. If you lay a hand on her, I will destroy you. I will rip your head off with my bare hands and watch it burn in the sun.”
Nathan’s fury grew. “Galina won’t allow you to play house with this girl. Even you don’t have that much favor.”
“Don’t make me tell you to leave again. I’m not in a patient mood today.”
Nathan said nothing, and the two Strigoi stood there in a staring match. I knew Strigoi strength and power were partially related to age. Nathan had obviously been turned first. I didn’t know by how much, but watching them, I got the feeling that Dimitri might be stronger or that it was at least a very, very even match. I could have sworn I saw a glimpse of fear in Nathan’s red eyes, but he turned away before I could get a good look.
“This isn’t over,” he snapped, moving toward the door. “I’m talking to Galina.”
He left, and for a moment, nobody moved or spoke. Then Dimitri looked at the human woman and said something in Russian. She’d been standing there, frozen.
Leaning over, she carefully placed her tray on the coffee table by the couch. She lifted a silver lid up, revealing a plate of pepperoni pizza loaded with cheese. Under any other circumstances, someone bringing me pizza in a Strigoi home would have been ludicrous and funny. Now, in the wake of Dimitri’s threat to turn me Strigoi and Nathan’s desire to use me to get to Lissa, nothing was funny. Even Rose Hathaway had limits when it came to making jokes. Next to the pizza was a huge brownie, thick with frosting. Food I loved, as Dimitri well knew.
“Lunch,” he said. “Not poisoned.”
Everything on the tray looked amazing, but I shook my head. “I’m not going to eat.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Do you want something else?”
“I don’t want anything else because I’m not going to eat anything at all. If you aren’t going to kill me, then I’ll do it myself.” It was occurring to me that the suite’s lack of weapons was probably for my own protection as much as theirs.
“By starving to death?” There was dark amusement in his eyes. “I’ll awaken you long before then.”
“Why aren’t you just doing it now?”
“Because I’d rather wait for you to be willing.” Man, he really did sound like Abe, except that breaking one’s kneecaps seemed kind of soft-core in comparison.
“You’re going to be waiting a long time,” I said.
Dimitri laughed out loud then. His laughter had been rare as a dhampir, and hearing it had always thrilled me. Now it no longer had that rich warmth that had wrapped all around me. It was cold and menacing. “We’ll see.”
And before I could form a reply, he moved in front of me again. His hand snaked behind my neck, shoving me against him, and he tilted my face up, pressing his lips against mine. They were as cold as the rest of his skin . . . and yet there was something warm in there, too. Some voice in me screamed that this was sick and horrible . . . but at the same time, I lost track of the world around me as we kissed and could almost pretend we were back together in the cabin.
He pulled away as quickly as he’d moved in, leaving me gasping and wide-eyed. Casually, like nothing had happened, he gestured to the woman. “This is Inna.” She looked up at the sound of her name, and I saw she was no older than me. “She works for Galina too and will check in on you. If you need anything, let her know. She doesn’t speak much English, but she’ll figure it out.” He said something else to her, and she meekly followed him to the door.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“I have things to do. Besides, you need time to think.”
“There’s nothing to think about.” I forced as much defiance into my words as I could.
It must not have sounded very fierce, though, because all my speech earned me was one mocking smile before he left with Inna, leaving me alone in my luxurious prison.
NINETEEN
FOR SOMEONE WHO HAD PREACHED to Denis about impulse control, I wasn’t setting a very good example. Once left alone in the suite, I continued trying everything possible to get out—emphasis on the “try” part.
Nathan had acted like keeping a prisoner was a rare thing, but from what I could tell, this place had been built to hold people in. The door and window remained impassible, no matter how hard I beat at them or threw objects against them. I didn’t bother with the chair this time and instead used one of the living room’s end tables, hoping it would carry some extra heft. It didn’t. When that didn’t work, I actually tried entering random codes into the door’s keypad. Also useless.
Finally, exhausted, I collapsed onto the leather sofa and tried to assess my options. The process didn’t take very long. I was trapped in a house full of Strigoi. Okay, I didn’t know that for sure, but I knew there were at least three here, which was far too many for me. Dimitri had referred to this place as an “estate,” which I didn’t find comforting. Estates were big. The fact that I appeared to be on the fourth floor was proof of that. A big place meant that there could be lots of room for lots of vampires.
The one comfort I had was that Strigoi didn’t cooperate very well. Finding large groups of them working together was rare. I’d observed it a couple of times—the attack on the Academy being one such occasion. They’d come then because the school’s wards had dropped, and that had been a big enough incentive for the Strigoi to unite. Even when they did try to work together, the unions were usually short-lived. The friction I’d observed between Dimitri and Nathan was proof of that.
Dimitri.
I closed my eyes. Dimitri was the reason I was here. I’d come to free him from this state of living death and had promptly failed, just as he’d said. Now, it appeared I might be on the verge of joining him. Yeah, good job, Rose. I shivered, trying to imagine myself as one of them. Red rings around my pupils. Tanned skin gone pale. I couldn’t picture it, and I supposed I’d never have to actually see myself if it happened. Strigoi cast no reflections. It would make doing my hair a real pain in the ass.
The scariest change of all would be within, the loss of my connection to my soul. Both Dimitri and Nathan had been cruel and antagonistic. Even if I hadn’t been around to start the fight, it probably wouldn’t have taken long for them to find some other reason to turn on each other. I was combative, but it was always driven by some passion for others. Strigoi fought because they relished the bloodshed. I didn’t want to be like that, seeking blood and violence because I enjoyed it.
I didn’t want to believe that of Dimitri either, but his actions had already branded him as a Strigoi. I also knew what he had to have been eating this whole time to survive. Strigoi could go longer without blood than Moroi, but it had been over a month since he was turned. There was no question he had fed, and Strigoi almost always killed their victims to eat. I couldn’t picture that of Dimitri . . . not the man I’d known.
I opened my eyes. The topic of feeding had brought my lunch to mind. Pizza and brownies. Two of the most perfect foods on the planet. The pizza had long gone cold during my escape efforts, but as I stared at the plate, both it and the brownie looked delicious. If the outside light was any indication, it hadn’t been a full twenty-four hours since Dimitri had caught me, but it was getting pretty close. That was a long time to go without food, and I wanted to eat that pizza badly, cold or not. I didn’t really want to starve to death.
Of course, I didn’t want to become Strigoi either, but this situation was quickly running away from what I wanted. Starvation took a long time, and I suspected Dimitri was right: he’d turn me long before I had a chance to truly starve. I
’d have to find some other way to die—God, not that I wanted that at all—and in the meantime, I decided I might as well keep up my strength on the feeble chance I might be able to escape.
Once the decision was made, I gobbled down the food in about three minutes. I had no idea who Strigoi hired to do their cooking—hell, Strigoi couldn’t even eat regular food, unlike Moroi—but it was fantastic. Some wry part of me noted that I’d been given food that required no silverware. They really had thought of every possible way I might get my hands on a weapon. My mouth was full of my last giant bite of brownie when the door suddenly opened. Inna slipped deftly inside, the door shutting almost immediately.
“Son of a bitch!” Or at least I tried to say that through my mouthful of food. While I’d been debating whether to eat or not, I should have been staking out the door. Dimitri had said Inna would check in on me. I should have been waiting to overpower her. Instead, she’d gotten in while I wasn’t paying attention. Once again, I’d slipped up.
Just like when she was around Dimitri and Nathan, Inna made very little eye contact. She held a pile of clothes in her arms and paused in front of me, holding them out. Uncertain, I took them from her and set them beside me on the couch.
“Um, thanks,” I said.
Pointing at the empty tray, she actually glanced up at me shyly, a question in her brown eyes. Seeing her straight on, I was surprised at how pretty she was. She might even have been younger than me, and I wondered how she’d ended up being forced to work here. Understanding her query, I nodded.
“Thanks.”
She picked the tray up and waited a moment. I wasn’t sure why; then it occurred to me she must be waiting to see if I wanted anything else. I was pretty sure “the combination to the lock” wouldn’t translate very well. I shrugged and waved her off, my mind spinning as I watched her approach the door. I should wait for her to open the door and then jump her, I thought. Immediately, a gut reaction sprang up in me, hesitation at striking out at an innocent. Another thought squashed that one: It’s me or her. I tensed.
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