Inna pressed herself close to the door as she punched in the combination, effectively blocking my view. Judging by how long she was punching in numbers, the code appeared to be pretty long. The door clicked open, and I braced myself to act. Then—I decided against it at the last moment. For all I knew, there could be an army of Strigoi out there. If I was going to use Inna to escape, I probably only had one opportunity. I needed to make it count. So, instead of leaping up, I shifted slightly so that I could see beyond her. She was just as fast as before, slipping out as soon as the door unlocked. But in that moment, I caught a glimpse of a short corridor and what looked like another heavy door.
Interesting. Double doors on my prison. If I did follow her, that would prevent me from making an immediate escape. She could simply wait by the other locked door, holding out until Strigoi backup showed up. That made things more difficult, but understanding the setup at least gave me a spark of hope. I just needed to figure out what to do with this information, provided I hadn’t screwed myself by not acting now. For all I knew, Dimitri was about to walk in and turn me into a Strigoi.
I sighed. Dimitri, Dimitri, Dimitri.
Looking down, I took the time to actually see what she’d brought me. My current attire wasn’t bothering me, but if I stayed here much longer, my jeans and T-shirt were going to get pretty gross.
Like Tamara, someone wanted to dress me up.
The clothes Inna had brought were all dresses and all in my size. A red silk sheath. A long-sleeved, form-fitting knit dress edged in satin. An empire-waist, ankle-length chiffon gown.
“Oh, great. I’m a doll.”
Digging deeper into the stack, I discovered there were a few nightshirts and nightgowns tucked in there—as well as some underwear and bras. All of those were satin and silk. The most casual item in the whole lot was a forest-green sweaterdress, but even it was made of the softest cashmere. I held it up, trying to imagine myself making a daring escape in it. Nope. With a shake of my head, I heedlessly tossed all of the clothes onto the floor. Looked like I’d be wearing grungy clothes for a while.
I paced around after that, turning over futile escape plans that I’d already spun around in my head a million times. In walking, I realized how tired I was. Aside from the blackout when Dimitri had hit me, I hadn’t slept in over a day. Deciding how to handle this was like deciding how to deal with the food. Let down my guard or not? I needed strength, but each concession I made put me more at risk.
At last, I gave in, and as I lay down on the massive bed, an idea suddenly occurred to me. I wasn’t totally without help. If Adrian came to visit me in my sleep, I could tell him what had happened. True, I’d told him to stay away last time, but he’d never listened to me before. Why should this time be any different? I focused on him as hard as I could while I waited for sleep to come, as though my thoughts might act as some sort of bat signal and summon him.
It didn’t work. There was no visit in my dreams, and when I woke up, I was surprised at just how much that hurt me. Despite Adrian’s infatuation with Avery, I couldn’t help but recall how kind he’d been to Jill the last time I saw them. He was worried about Lissa, too, and he’d displayed none of his usual carefree bravado. He’d been serious and . . . well, sweet. A lump formed in my throat. Even if I had no romantic interest in him, I’d still treated him badly. I’d lost both our friendship and any chance of calling for help through him.
The soft rustling of paper snapped me from my musings and I jerked upright. Someone was in the living room, his back to me as he sat on the couch, and it took me only a moment to recognize who. Dimitri.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, climbing out of bed. In my groggy state, I hadn’t even registered the nausea.
“Waiting for you to wake up,” he said, not bothering to turn around. He was overly confident in my inability to inflict damage—as well he should have been.
“Sounds kind of boring.”
I walked into the living room, moving myself far to the side of him and leaning against the wall. I crossed my arms over my chest, again taking comfort in that meaningless protective posture.
“Not so boring. I had company.”
He glanced over at me and held up a book. A western. I think that shocked me almost as much as his altered appearance. There was something so . . . normal about it all. He’d loved western novels when he was a dhampir, and I’d often teased him about wanting to be a cowboy. Somehow, I’d imagined that hobby would go away when he turned. Irrationally hopeful, I studied his face as though I might see some radical change, like maybe he’d turned back to the way he’d been while I slept. Maybe the last month and a half had been a dream.
Nope. Red eyes and a hard expression looked back at me. My hopes shattered.
“You slept for a long time,” he added. I dared a quick look at the window. Totally black. It was nighttime. Damn. I’d only wanted a two-hour power nap. “And you ate.”
The amusement in his voice grated at me. “Yeah, well, I’m a sucker for pepperoni. What do you want?”
He placed a bookmark in the book and set it on the table. “To see you.”
“Really? I thought your only goal was to make me one of the living dead.”
He didn’t acknowledge that, which was a bit frustrating. I hated feeling like what I had to say was being ignored. Instead, he tried to get me to sit down.
“Aren’t you tired of always standing?”
“I just woke up. Besides, if I can spend an hour tossing furniture around, a little standing isn’t that big a deal.”
I didn’t know why I was throwing out my usual witty quips. Honestly, considering the situation, I should have just ignored him. I should have stayed silent instead of playing into this game. I guess I kind of hoped that if I made the jokes I used to, I’d get some kind of response from the old Dimitri. I repressed a sigh. There I was again, forgetting Dimitri’s own lessons. Strigoi were not the people they used to be.
“Sitting’s not that big a deal either,” he replied. “I told you before, I’m not going to hurt you.”
“‘Hurt’ is kind of a subjective term.” Then, in a sudden decision to seem fearless, I walked over and sat in the armchair across from him. “Happy now?”
He tilted his head, and a few pieces of brown hair escaped from where he’d pulled it back in a small ponytail. “You still stay beautiful, even after sleeping and fighting.” His eyes flicked down to the clothes I’d tossed on the floor. “You don’t like any of them?”
“I’m not here to play dress-up with you. Designer clothes aren’t going to suddenly get me on board with joining the Strigoi club.”
He gave me a long, penetrating stare. “Why don’t you trust me?”
I stared back, only my stare was one of disbelief. “How can you ask that? You abducted me. You kill innocent people to survive. You aren’t the same.”
“I’m better, I told you. And as for innocent . . .” He shrugged. “No one’s really innocent. Besides, the world is made up of predators and prey. Those who are strong conquer those who are weak. It’s part of the natural order. You used to be into that, if I remember correctly.”
I looked away. Back at school, my favorite non-guardian class had been biology. I’d loved reading about animal behavior, about the survival of the fittest. Dimitri had been my alpha male, the strongest of all the other competitors.
“It’s different,” I said.
“But not in the way you think. Why should drinking blood be so strange to you? You’ve seen Moroi do it. You’ve let Moroi do it.”
I flinched, not really wanting to dwell on how I used to let Lissa drink from me while we lived among humans. I certainly didn’t want to think about the rush of endorphins that had come with that and how I’d nearly become an addict.
“They don’t kill.”
“They’re missing out. It’s incredible,” he breathed. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. “To drink the blood of another . . . to watch the life fade fro
m them and feel it pour into you . . . it’s the greatest experience in the world.”
Listening to him talk about killing others increased my nausea. “It’s sick and wrong.”
It happened so fast that I didn’t have any time to react. Dimitri leapt out and grabbed me, pulling me to him and spreading me out on the couch. With his arm still wrapped around me, he positioned himself so that he was half beside me and half on top. I was too stunned to move.
“No, it’s not. And that’s where you have to trust me. You’d love it. I want to be with you, Rose. Really be with you. We’re free of the rules that others put on us. We can be together now—the strongest of the strong, taking everything we want. We can eventually be as strong as Galina. We could have a place just like this, all our own.”
While his bare skin was still cold, the press of the rest of his body against mine was warm. The red in his eyes practically gleamed while this close, and as he spoke, I saw the fangs in his mouth. I was used to seeing fangs on Moroi, but on him . . . it was sickening. I briefly toyed with the idea of trying to break free but promptly dismissed it. If Dimitri wanted to hold me down, I would stay down.
“I don’t want any of this,” I said.
“Don’t you want me?” he asked with a wicked smile. “You wanted me once.”
“No,” I said, knowing I lied.
“What do you want then? To go back to the Academy? To serve Moroi who will throw you into danger without a second thought? If you wanted that kind of life, why did you come here?”
“I came to free you.”
“I am free,” he responded. “And if you’d really intended to kill me, you would have.” He shifted slightly, resting his face close to my neck. “You couldn’t.”
“I messed up. It won’t happen again.”
“Suppose that were true. Suppose you were able to kill me now. Suppose you were even able to escape. What then? Will you go back home? Will you return to Lissa and let her continue bleeding spirit’s darkness into you?”
“I don’t know,” I replied stiffly. And it was the truth. My plans had never gone past finding him.
“It will consume you, you know. As long as she continues to use her magic, no matter how far away you go, you’ll always feel the side effects. At least as long as she’s alive.”
I stiffened in his arms and moved my face away. “What’s that mean? Are you going to join Nathan and hunt her down?”
“What happens to her is no concern of mine,” he said. “You are. If you were awakened, Lissa would no longer be a threat to you. You’d be free. The bond would break.”
“And what would happen to her? She’d be left alone.”
“Like I said, that’s no concern of mine. Being with you is.”
“Yeah? Well, I don’t want to be with you.”
He turned my face toward him so that we were looking at each other again. Once more, I had that weird feeling of being with Dimitri and not with Dimitri. Love and fear.
He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
“Believe what you want. I don’t want you anymore.”
His lips quirked into one of those scary, smirking smiles. “You’re lying. I can tell. I’ve always been able to.”
“It’s the truth. I wanted you before. I don’t want you now.”If I kept saying it, it would be true.
He moved closer to me, and I froze. If I shifted even half an inch, our lips would touch. “My exterior . . . my power, yes, that’s different. Better. But otherwise, I’m the same, Roza. My essence hasn’t changed. The connection between us hasn’t changed. You just can’t see it yet.”
“Everything’s changed.” With his lips so close, all I kept thinking about was that brief, passionate kiss he’d given me the last time he was here. No, no, no. Don’t think about that.
“If I’m so different, then why don’t I force you into an awakening? Why am I giving you the choice?”
A snappy retort was on my lips, but then it died. That was an excellent question. Why was he giving me the choice? Strigoi didn’t give their victims choices. They killed mercilessly and took what they wanted. If Dimitri truly wanted me to join him, then he should have turned me as soon as he had me. More than a day had passed, and he’d showered me with luxury. Why? If he turned me, I had no doubt that I’d become as twisted as him. It would make everything a lot simpler.
He continued when I remained silent. “And if I’m so different, then why did you kiss me back earlier?”
I still didn’t know what to say, and it made his smile grow. “No answer. You know I’m right.”
His lips suddenly found mine again. I made a small sound of protest and tried vainly to escape his embrace. He was too strong, and after a moment, I didn’t want to escape. That same sensation as before flooded me. His lips were cold, but the kiss burned between us. Fire and ice. And he was right—I did kiss him back.
Desperately, that rational part of me screamed that this was wrong. Last time, he’d broken the kiss before too much could happen. Not this time. And as we continued kissing now, that rational voice in me grew smaller and smaller. The part of me that would always love Dimitri took over, exulting in the way his body felt against mine, the way he wound my hair around one of his hands, letting the fingers get tangled up. His other hand slid up the back of my shirt, cold against my warm skin. I pushed myself closer to him and felt the pressure of the kiss increase as his own desire picked up.
Then, in the midst of it all, my tongue lightly brushed against the sharp point of one of his fangs. It was like a bucket of cold water tossed upon me. With as much strength as I could muster, I jerked my head away, pulling out of the kiss. I could only guess that his guard had been momentarily down, allowing me that small escape.
My breathing was heavy, my whole body still wanting him. My mind, however, was the part of me in control—for now, at least. God, what had I been doing? It’s not the Dimitri you knew. It’s not him. I’d been kissing a monster. But my body wasn’t so sure.
“No,” I murmured, surprised by how pathetic and pleading I sounded. “No. We can’t do this.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. His hand was still in my hair, and he forcibly turned my head so that I was face-to-face with him again. “You didn’t seem to mind. Everything can be just like it was before . . . like it was in the cabin . . . You certainly wanted it then. . . .”
The cabin . . .
“No,” I repeated. “I don’t want that.”
He pressed his lips against my cheek and then made a surprisingly gentle trail of kisses down to my neck. Again, I felt my body’s yearning for him, and I hated myself for the weakness.
“What about this?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. “Do you want this?”
“Wh—”
I felt it. The sharp bite of teeth into my skin as he closed his mouth down on my neck. For half an instant, it was agonizing. Painful and horrible. And then, just like that, the pain disappeared. A rush of bliss and joy poured through me. It was so sweet. I had never felt so wonderful in my life. It reminded me a little of how it had been when Lissa drank from me. That had been amazing, but this . . . this was ten times better. A hundred times better. The rush from a Strigoi bite was greater than that of a Moroi’s. It was like being in love for the first time, filled with that all-consuming, joyous feeling.
When he pulled away, it felt like all the happiness and wonder in the world had vanished. He ran a hand over his mouth, and I stared at him wide-eyed. My initial instinct was to ask why he’d stopped, but then, slowly, I reached inside myself to fight past the blissful daze that his bite had sent me into.
“Why . . . what . . .” My words slurred a little. “You said it would be my choice. . . .”
“It still is,” he said. His own eyes were wide, his breathing heavy too. He’d been just as affected as me. “I’m not doing this to awaken you, Roza. A bite like this won’t turn you. This . . . well, this is just for fun. . . .”
Then, his mouth moved ba
ck to my neck to drink again, and I lost track of the world.
TWENTY
THE DAYS AFTER THAT WERE like a dream. In fact, I honestly can’t say how many days even passed. Maybe it was one. Maybe it was a hundred.
I lost track of day and night too. My time was divided into Dimitri or not-Dimitri. He was my world. When he wasn’t there, the moments were agony. I’d pass them as best I could, but they seemed to drag on forever. The TV was my best friend during those times. I’d lie on the couch for hours, only half following what was going on. In keeping with the rest of the suite’s luxury, I had access to satellite television, which meant we were actually pulling in some American programming. Half the time, though, I wasn’t sure that it really made a difference to me if the language was Russian or English.
Inna continued her periodic checks on me. She brought my meals and did my laundry—I was wearing the dresses now—and waited around in that silent way of hers to see if I needed anything else. I never did—at least not from her. I only needed Dimitri. Each time she left, some distant part of me remembered I was supposed to do something . . . follow her, that was it. I’d had some plan to check out the exit and use her as a way to escape, right? Now, that plan no longer held the appeal. It seemed like a lot of work.
And then, finally, Dimitri would visit, and the monotony would be broken. We’d lie together on my bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. We never had sex, but we’d kiss and touch and lose ourselves in the wonder of each other’s bodies—sometimes with very little clothing. After a while, I found it hard to believe I’d once been afraid of his new appearance. Sure, the eyes were a bit shocking, but he was still gorgeous . . . still unbelievably sexy. And after we’d talked and made out for a while—for hours, sometimes—I’d let him bite me. Then I’d get that rush . . . that wonderful, exquisite flood of chemicals that lifted me from all my problems. Whatever doubts I’d had about God’s existence vanished in those moments because surely, surely I was touching God when I lost myself in that bite. This was heaven.
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