Without a momentʹs hesitation, I shoved the abandoned cleaning cart in front of the roomʹs door and sprinted off down the hall. A couple seconds later, the door opened, and I heard a cry of annoyance—as well as a very, very bad word in Russian—as he ran into the cart. It would only take him a few moments to push it aside, but that was all I needed. I was down the flight of stairs in a flash and into the meager lobby where a bored desk clerk was reading a book. He nearly jumped out of his chair when I came tearing through.
ʺThereʹs a guy chasing me!ʺ I called as I headed out the door.
The clerk didnʹt really look like anyone who would try to stop Dimitri, and I had a feeling Dimitri wouldnʹt stop anyway if the guy asked him to. In the most extreme case, the man would call the police. In this town, the POLICE probably consisted of one guy and a dog.
Regardless, it was no longer my concern. I had escaped the motel and was now in the middle of a sleepy mountain town, its streets cast in shadows. Dimitri might be right behind me, but as I plunged into some woods nearby, I knew it was going to be easy for me to lose him in the darkness.
SEVEN
THE PROBLEM WAS, OF COURSE, that I soon lost myself in the darkness.
After living in the wilds of Montana, I was used to how completely the night could swallow you once you stepped away from even the tiniest hint of civilization. I was even used to wandering the twists and turns of dark forests. But the St. Vladimirʹs terrain had been familiar. The woods of West Virginia were new and foreign, and I had completely lost my bearings.
Once I was pretty sure Iʹd put enough distance between me and the motel, I paused and looked around. Night insects hummed and sang, and the oppressive summer humidity hung around me. Peering up through the leafy canopy of trees, I could see a brilliant sky of stars, totally untouched by city lights. Feeling like a true wilderness survivor, I studied the stars until I spotted the Big Dipper and figured out which direction was north. The mountains Sydney had driven us through had been to the east, so I certainly didnʹt want to go in that direction. It seemed reasonable that if I hiked north, Iʹd eventually hit an interstate and either hitchhike or walk my way back to civilization. It wasnʹt an airtight plan, but it wasnʹt the worst one Iʹd ever had, not by a long shot.
I wasnʹt really dressed for hiking, but as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I managed to avoid most trees and other obstacles. Following the tiny road out of town would have been easier—but was also what Dimitri would expect me to do.
I fell into a steady, subconscious rhythm as I made my way north. I decided it was a good time to check in on Lissa, now that I had time on my hands and no guardians trying to arrest me. I slipped into her mind and found her within the depths of the guardiansʹ headquarters, sitting in a hallway lined with chairs. Other Moroi sat nearby, including Christian and Tasha.
ʺTheyʹll question you hard,ʺ Tasha murmured. ʺEspecially you.ʺ That was to Christian. ʺYouʹd be my first choice if something illicitly blew up.ʺ That seemed to be everyoneʹs opinion. From the troubled look on her face, I could see Tasha had been as surprised by my escape as I had. Even if my friends hadnʹt filled her in on the whole story yet, she had probably pieced most things together—at the very least, who was behind it.
Christian gave her as charming a smile as he could manage, like a kid trying to dodge being grounded. ʺTheyʹll know by now that it wasnʹt caused by magic,ʺ he said. ʺThe guardians will have scoured every inch of those statues.ʺ He didnʹt elaborate, not in public, but Lissaʹs mind was working along the same lines as his. The guardians would know now the explosion hadnʹt been elemental. And even if my friends were the primary suspects, the authorities would have to wonder—just as I had—how teenagers would get a hold of C4.
Lissa nodded her agreement and rested her hand on Christianʹs. ʺWeʹll be okay.ʺ
Her thoughts turned to both Dimitri and me, wondering if weʹd made it out according to the plan. She couldnʹt focus on finding Tatianaʹs killer until she knew we were safe. Like me, the breakout had been a hard choice: freeing me put me in more danger than keeping me locked up. Her emotions were keyed up, prickly and a bit wilder than I would have liked. So much spirit, I realized. Sheʹs using too much. Back at school, sheʹd managed it with prescription medication and later through self-control. But somewhere, as our situations grew increasingly complicated, sheʹd allowed herself to wield more and more. Recently, sheʹd used astonishing amounts, and weʹd come to take it for granted. Sooner or later, Lissaʹs reliance on spirit would catch up with her. With us.
ʺPrincess?ʺ A door across from Lissa opened, and a guardian peered out. ʺWeʹre ready for you.ʺ
The guardian stepped aside, and inside the room, Lissa heard a familiar voice say, ʺAlways a pleasure speaking with you, Hans. We should do it again sometime.ʺ Abe then appeared, strutting out with his usual swagger. He stepped past the guardian in the doorway and gave Lissa and the Ozeras a winning, all-is-right-in-the-world grin. Without a word, he strode past them toward the hallʹs exit.
Lissa almost smiled but reined it in, putting on a sober look as she and her companions entered. The door shut behind them, and she found herself facing three guardians seated at a table. One of them Iʹd seen around but had never met. I think his last name was Steele. The other two I knew well. One was Hans Croft, who ran the guardiansʹ operations at Court. Beside him—to my astonishment—was Alberta, who was in charge of St. Vladimirʹs guardians and novices.
ʺLovely,ʺ growled Hans. ʺA whole entourage.ʺ Christian had insisted on being present when Lissa was questioned, and Tasha had insisted on being present with Christian. If Abe had known the interrogation time, he probably would have joined the group too, undoubtedly followed by my mother . . . Hans didnʹt realize heʹd dodged a house party.
Lissa, Christian, and Tasha sat down opposite the guardians. ʺGuardian Petrov,ʺ said Lissa, ignoring Hansʹs disapproval. ʺWhat are you doing here?ʺ
Alberta gave Lissa a small smile but otherwise kept in professional guardian mode. ʺI was here for the funeral, and Guardian Croft decided heʹd like an outside opinion for the investigation.ʺ
ʺAs well as someone familiar with Hathaway and her, uh, associates,ʺ added Hans. Hans was the kind of guy who got straight to the point. Usually, his attitude bothered me—that was my normal reaction to most authority figures—but I did respect the way he ran operations here. ʺThis meeting was intended just for you, princess.ʺ
ʺWe wonʹt say a word,ʺ said Christian.
Lissa nodded and kept her face smooth and polite, even though there was a trembling in her voice. ʺI want to help . . . Iʹve been so, I donʹt know. Iʹm so stunned about everything thatʹs happened.ʺ
ʺIʹm sure,ʺ said Hans, voice dry. ʺWhere were you when the statues exploded?ʺ
ʺWith the funeral procession,ʺ she said. ʺI was part of the escort.ʺ
Steele had a pile of papers in front of him. ʺThatʹs true. There are plenty of witnesses.ʺ
ʺVery convenient. What about afterward?ʺ asked Hans. ʺWhere did you go when the crowd panicked?ʺ
ʺBack to the Councilʹs building. Thatʹs where all the others were meeting up, and I thought itʹd be safest.ʺ I couldnʹt see her face but could feel her trying to look cowed. ʺI was afraid when things started going crazy.ʺ
ʺWe also have witnesses to support that,ʺ said Steele.
Hans drummed his fingers on the table. ʺDid you have any prior knowledge about any of this? The explosions? Hathawayʹs breakout?ʺ
Lissa shook her head. ʺNo! I had no clue. I didnʹt even know it was possible to get out of the cells. I thought there was too much security.ʺ
Hans ignored the dig on his operations. ʺYouʹve got that bond thing, right? You didnʹt pick up anything through that?ʺ
ʺI donʹt read her,ʺ explained Lissa. ʺShe sees my thoughts but not the other way around.ʺ
ʺThat,ʺ said Alberta, speaking up at last, ʺis true.ʺ
Hans didnʹt contradict her but still wasnʹt buying my frien
dsʹ innocence. ʺYou realize, if youʹre caught concealing information—or aiding her—youʹll face consequences almost as serious as hers. All of you. Royalty doesnʹt exempt you from treason.ʺ
Lissa lowered her gaze, as though his threat had frightened her. ʺI just canʹt believe . . . I just canʹt believe sheʹd do this. She was my friend. I thought I knew her. I didnʹt think she could do any of these things . . . I never thought sheʹd murder anyone.ʺ If not for the feelings in the bond, I might have taken offense. I knew the truth, though. She was acting, trying to distance herself from me. It was smart.
ʺReally? Because not long ago, you were swearing up and down that she was innocent,ʺ pointed out Hans.
Lissa looked back up and widened her eyes. ʺI thought she was! But then . . . then I heard about what she did to those guardians in the escape . . .ʺ Her distress wasnʹt entirely faked this time. She still needed to act like she thought I was guilty, but the news of Meredithʹs condition had reached her—which truly had shocked her. That made two of us, but at least I now knew Meredith was okay.
Hans still looked skeptical at Lissaʹs change of heart but let it go. ʺWhat about Belikov? You swore he wasnʹt a Strigoi anymore, but obviously something went wrong there as well.ʺ
Christian stirred beside Lissa. As an advocate for Dimitri, Christian grew as irritated as us at the suspicions and accusations. Lissa spoke before Christian could say anything.
ʺHeʹs not Strigoi!ʺ Lissaʹs remorse over me vanished, her old, fierce defense of Dimitri kicking in. She hadnʹt expected this line of questioning about him. Sheʹd been preparing herself to defend me and her alibi. Hans seemed pleased at the reaction and watched her closely.
ʺThen how do you explain his involvement?ʺ
ʺIt wasnʹt because he was Strigoi,ʺ said Lissa, forcing her control back. Her heart was pounding rapidly. ʺHe changed back. Thereʹs no Strigoi left.ʺ
ʺBut he attacked a number of guardians—on more than one occasion.ʺ
It looked like Tasha wanted to interrupt now and defend Dimitri as well, but she visibly bit her lip. It was remarkable. The Ozeras liked to speak their minds, not always tactfully.
ʺIt wasnʹt because he was Strigoi,ʺ Lissa repeated. ʺAnd he didnʹt kill any of those guardians. Not one. Rose did what she did . . . well, I donʹt know why. She hated Tatiana, I guess. Everyone knew that. But Dimitri . . . Iʹm telling you, being Strigoi had nothing to do with this. He helped her because he used to be her teacher. He thought she was in trouble.ʺ
ʺThat was pretty extreme for a teacher, particularly one who—before turning Strigoi—was known for being level-headed and rational.ʺ
ʺYeah, but he wasnʹt thinking rationally because—ʺ
Lissa cut herself off, suddenly caught in a bad situation. Hans seemed to have realized quickly in this conversation that if Lissa was involved with recent events—and I donʹt think he was certain yet—she would have an airtight alibi. Talking to her, however, had given him the chance to pursue another puzzle in my escape: Dimitriʹs involvement. Dimitri had sacrificed himself to take the fall, even if it meant others not trusting him again. Lissa thought sheʹd made people think his actions were a former teacherʹs protective instinct, but apparently, not everyone was buying that.
ʺHe wasnʹt thinking rationally because?ʺ prompted Hans, eyes sharp. Before the murder, Hans had believed Dimitri truly had become a dhampir again. Something told me he still believed that but sensed there was something big dangling before him.
Lissa stayed silent. She didnʹt want people thinking Dimitri was Strigoi. She wanted people to believe in her powers to restore the undead. But if Dimitri helping a student didnʹt seem convincing enough to others, all that mistrust might surface again.
Glancing at her interrogators, Lissa suddenly met Albertaʹs eyes. The older guardian said nothing. She wore that neutral, scrutinizing expression that guardians excelled at. She also had an air of wisdom about her, and Lissa briefly allowed spirit to show her Albertaʹs aura. It had good, steady colors and energy, and in Albertaʹs eyes, Lissa swore she could see a message, a knowing glint.
Tell them, the message seemed to say. Itʹll create problems—but they wonʹt be as bad as your current ones. Lissa held that gaze, wondering if she was just projecting her own thoughts onto Alberta. It didnʹt matter whoʹd come up with the idea. Lissa knew it was right.
ʺDimitri helped Rose because . . . because they were involved.ʺ
As Iʹd guessed, Alberta wasnʹt surprised, and she seemed relieved to have the truth out there. Hans and Steele, however, were very surprised. I had only seen Hans shocked a few times.
ʺWhen you say ‘involved,ʹ do you mean . . .ʺ He paused to structure his words. ʺDo you mean romantically involved?ʺ
Lissa nodded, feeling horrible. Sheʹd revealed a big secret here, one sheʹd sworn sheʹd keep for me, but I didnʹt blame her. Not in this situation. Love—I hoped—would defend Dimitriʹs actions.
ʺHe loved her,ʺ said Lissa. ʺShe loved him. If he helped her escape—ʺ
ʺHe did help her escape,ʺ interrupted Hans. ʺHe attacked guardians and blew up priceless, centuries-old statues brought over from Europe!ʺ
Lissa shrugged. ʺWell, like I said. He wasnʹt acting rationally. He wanted to help her and probably thought she was innocent. He would have done anything for her—and it had nothing to do with Strigoi.ʺ
ʺLove only justifies so much.ʺ Hans clearly wasnʹt a romantic.
ʺShe′s underage!ʺ exclaimed Steele. That part hadnʹt escaped him.
ʺSheʹs eighteen,ʺ corrected Lissa.
Hans cut her a look. ʺI can do the math, princess. Unless they managed some beautiful, touching romance in the last few weeks—while he was mostly in isolation—then there were things going on at your school that someone should have reported.ʺ
Lissa said nothing, but from the corner of her eye, she could see Tasha and Christian. They were trying to keep their expressions neutral, but it was obvious this news wasnʹt a surprise to them, no doubt confirming Hansʹs suspicions that illicit things had been going on. I actually hadnʹt realized Tasha knew about Dimitri and me and felt a little bad. Had she known that part of his rejection of her had been because of me? And if she knew, how many others did? Christian had probably tipped her off, but something told me more people were probably starting to find out as well. After the schoolʹs attack, my reaction had likely been a big clue about my feelings for Dimitri. Maybe telling Hans now wasnʹt so big a deal after all. The secret wouldnʹt be a secret much longer.
Alberta cleared her throat, speaking up at last. ʺI think we have more important things to worry about right now than some romance that may or may not have happened.ʺ
Steele gave her an incredulous look and slammed his hand against the table. ʺThis is pretty serious. Did you know about it?ʺ
ʺAll I know is that weʹre getting distracted from the point here,ʺ she replied, neatly dodging the question. Alberta was about twenty years older than Steele, and the tough look she gave him said that he was a child wasting her time. ʺI thought we were here to figure out if Miss Hathaway had any accomplices, not dredge up the past. So far, the only person we can say for sure that helped her is Belikov, and he did it out of irrational affection. That makes him a fugitive and a fool, not a Strigoi.ʺ
Iʹd never thought of my relationship with Dimitri as ʺirrational affection,ʺ but Albertaʹs point was taken. Something in Hansʹs and Steeleʹs faces made me think soon the whole world would know about us, but that was nothing compared to murder. And if it cleared Dimitri of being a Strigoi, then it meant heʹd be imprisoned instead of staked if ever captured. Small blessings.
Lissaʹs questioning continued a bit longer before the guardians decided she was free and clear of any part in my escape (that they could prove). She did a good job playing surprised and confused the whole time, even mustering a few tears over how she could have so misjudged me. She spun a little bit of compulsion into her act too—not enough to brainwash anyone, but enough
that Steeleʹs earlier outrage transformed to sympathy. Hans was harder to read, but as my group left, he reminded Tasha and Christian that he would be speaking with each of them later, preferably without an entourage.
For now, the next person in the hot seat was waiting in the hall: Eddie. Lissa gave him the same smile sheʹd give any friend. There was no indication that they were both part of a conspiracy. Eddie nodded in return as he was called to the room for his interrogation. Lissa was anxious for him, but I knew his guardian self-control would make sure he stuck to the story. He probably wouldnʹt pull the tears Lissa had, but heʹd likely act just as shocked by my ʺtreasonʺ as she had.
Tasha left Christian and Lissa once they were outside, first warning them to be careful. ʺYouʹve gotten out of this so far, but I donʹt think the guardians have completely cleared you. Especially Hans.ʺ
ʺHey, I can take care of myself,ʺ said Christian.
Tasha rolled her eyes. ʺYes. I see what happens when youʹre left to your own devices.ʺ
ʺHey, donʹt get all pissy because we didnʹt tell you,ʺ he exclaimed. ʺWe didnʹt have time, and there were only so many people we could get involved. Besides, youʹve done your share of crazy plans before.ʺ
ʺTrue,ʺ Tasha admitted. She was hardly a role model for playing by the rules. ʺItʹs just that everythingʹs gotten that much more complicated. Rose is on the run. And now Dimitri . . .ʺ She sighed, and I didnʹt need her to finish to guess her thoughts. There was a profound look of sadness in her eyes, one that made me feel guilty. Just like the rest of us, Tasha had wanted Dimitriʹs reputation restored. By freeing the queenʹs accused assassin, heʹd seriously damaged any chance at acceptance. I really wished he hadnʹt gotten involved and hoped my current escape plan paid off.
ʺThisʹll all work out,ʺ said Christian. ʺYouʹll see.ʺ He didnʹt look so confident as he spoke, and Tasha gave him a small, amused smile.
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