Last Sacrifice (6)

by Richelle Mead

  Many Moroi didnʹt care what the Council said. They made it clear they considered this matter far from over, proving what Victor had said: this was going to rage on for a while, getting worse if she actually passed the tests and made it to the voting stages. For now, the crowd dispersed, seeming relieved—not only because they wanted to escape the yelling but also because they wanted to spread this sensational news.

  Lissa continued saying little as she and our friends left. Walking past the gawkers, she remained a model of regality and calmness, like sheʹd already been declared queen. But when she finally escaped it all and was back in her room with the others, all those locked-up, frozen feelings exploded.

  ʺWhat the hell were you guys thinking?ʺ she yelled. ʺWhat have you done to me?ʺ

  Along with Adrian, Christian, and Eddie, the rest of the conspirators had shown up: Tasha, Abe, and my mom. All of them were so completely stunned by this reaction from sweet Lissa that none of them could reply now. Lissa took advantage of their silence.

  ʺYou set me up! Youʹve put me in the middle of a political nightmare! Do you think I want this? Do you really think I want to be queen?ʺ

  Abe recovered first, naturally. ʺYou wonʹt be queen,ʺ he said, voice uncharacteristically soothing. ʺThe people arguing about the other part of the law are right: no one can actually vote for you. You need family for that.ʺ

  ʺThen whatʹs the point?ʺ she exclaimed. She was furious. She had every right to be. But that outrage, that anger . . . it was fueled by something worse than this situation alone. Spirit was coming to claim its price and making her even more upset than she would have been.

  ʺThe point,ʺ said Tasha, ʺis everything crazy you just saw in the Council room. For every argument, for every time someone drags out the law books again, we have more time to save Rose and find out who killed Tatiana.ʺ

  ʺWhoever did it must have an interest in the throne,ʺ explained Christian. He rested a hand on Lissaʹs shoulder, and she jerked away. ʺEither for themselves or someone they know. The longer we delay their plans, the more time we have to find out who it is.ʺ

  Lissa raked her hands through her long hair in frustration. I tried to pull that coil of fury from her, taking it into myself. I succeeded a little, enough that she dropped her hands to her side. But she was still pissed off.

  ʺHow am I supposed to look for the murderer when Iʹm tied up doing all those stupid tests?ʺ she demanded.

  ʺYou wonʹt be looking,ʺ said Abe. ʺWe will.ʺ

  Her eyes widened. ʺThat was never part of the plan! Iʹm not going to jump through royal hoops when Rose needs me. I want to help her!ʺ

  It was almost comical. Almost. Neither Lissa nor I could handle ʺsitting aroundʺ when we thought the other needed our help. We wanted to be out there, actively doing what we could to fix the situation.

  ʺYou are helping her,ʺ said Christian. His hand twitched, but he didnʹt try to touch her again. ʺItʹs in a different way than you expected, but in the end, itʹs going to help her.ʺ

  The same argument everyone kept using on me. It also made her just as angry as it had made me, and I desperately tugged at the wave of instability spirit kept sending through her.

  Lissa peered around the room, looking accusingly at each face. ʺWho in the world thought of this idea?ʺ

  More uncomfortable silence followed.

  ʺRose did,ʺ said Adrian at last.

  Lissa spun around and glared at him. ʺShe did not! She wouldnʹt do this to me!ʺ

  ʺShe did,ʺ he said. ʺI talked to her in a dream. It was her idea, and . . . it was a good one.ʺ I didnʹt really like how that seemed to come as a surprise to him. ʺBesides, you kind of put her in a bad situation too. She kept going on about how much the town sheʹs in sucks.ʺ

  ʺOkay,ʺ snapped Lissa, ignoring the part about my plight. ʺSupposing thatʹs true, that Rose passes this ‘brilliantʹ idea on to you, then why didnʹt anyone bother to tell me? Didnʹt you think a little warning might help?ʺ Again, it was just like me complaining about how my jailbreak had been kept a secret from me.

  ʺNot really,ʺ said Adrian. ʺWe figured youʹd react exactly like this and have time to plan a refusal. We kind of gambled that if you were caught on the spot, youʹd accept.ʺ

  ʺThat was kind of risky,ʺ she said.

  ʺBut it worked,ʺ came Tashaʹs blunt response. ʺWe knew youʹd come through for us.ʺ She winked. ʺAnd for what itʹs worth, I think youʹd make a great queen.ʺ

  Lissa gave her a sharp look, and I made one more attempt to drag away some of the darkness. I concentrated on those churning emotions, imagining them in me instead of her. I didnʹt pull it all but managed enough to take the fight out of her. Rage suddenly flared in me, blinding me momentarily, but I was able to push it off to a corner of my mind. She suddenly felt exhausted. I kind of did too.

  ʺThe first test is tomorrow,ʺ she said quietly. ʺIf I fail it, Iʹm out. The plan falls apart.ʺ

  Christian made another attempt to put his arm around her, and this time, she let him. ʺYou wonʹt.ʺ

  Lissa didnʹt say anything else, and I could see the relief on everyoneʹs faces. No one believed for a second she liked this, but they seemed to think she wasnʹt going to withdraw her nomination, which was as much as they could hope for.

  My mother and Eddie had said nothing this entire time. As was common for guardians, theyʹd kept to the background, remaining shadows while Moroi business was conducted. With the initial storm passing over, my mother stepped forward. She nodded toward Eddie. ʺOne of us is going to try to stay near you at all times.ʺ

  ʺWhy?ʺ asked Lissa, startled.

  ʺBecause we know thereʹs someone out there who isnʹt afraid to kill to get what they want,ʺ said Tasha. She nodded toward Eddie and my mom. ʺThese two and Mikhail are really the only guardians we can trust.ʺ

  ʺAre you sure?ʺ Abe gave Tasha a sly look. ʺIʹm surprised you didnʹt get your special guardian ‘friendʹ on board.ʺ

  ʺWhat special friend?ʺ demanded Christian, instantly picking up on the insinuation.

  Tasha, to my astonishment, flushed. ʺJust a guy I know.ʺ

  ʺWho follows you with puppy-dog eyes,ʺ continued Abe. ʺWhatʹs his name? Evan?ʺ

  ʺEthan,ʺ she corrected.

  My mother, looking exasperated by such ridiculous talk, promptly put an end to it—which was just as well since Christian looked like he had a few things to say. ʺLeave her alone,ʺ she warned Abe. ʺWe donʹt have time for it. Ethanʹs a good guy, but the fewer people who know about this, the better. Since Mikhail has a permanent post, Eddie and I will do security.ʺ

  I agreed with all of what sheʹd just said, but it struck me that to get my mother on board, someone—probably Abe—had filled her in on all the illicit activity that had occurred recently. He was either really convincing or she loved me a lot. Grudgingly, I suspected both were true. When Moroi were at Court, their guardians didnʹt need to accompany them everywhere, meaning my mom would most likely be free of her assignment while Lord Szelsky stayed here. Eddie didnʹt have an assignment yet, which also gave him flexibility.

  Lissa started to say something else when a sharp jolt in my own reality snapped me away from her.

  ʺSorry,ʺ said Sydney. Her slamming on the brakes was what had brought me back. ʺThat jerk cut me off.ʺ

  It wasnʹt Sydneyʹs fault, but I felt irritated at the interruption and wanted to yell at her. With a deep breath, I reminded myself that I was simply feeling spiritʹs side effects and that I couldnʹt allow it to make me act irrationally. It would fade, like always, yet some part of me knew I couldnʹt keep taking that darkness from Lissa forever. I wouldnʹt always be able to control it.

  Now that I was back to myself, I looked out the windows, taking in our new surroundings. We werenʹt in the mountains anymore. Weʹd reached an urban area, and while the traffic was hardly heavy (seeing as it was still the middle of the human night), there were definitely more cars on the road than weʹd seen in a while.

  ʺWhere are
we?ʺ I asked.

  ʺOutskirts of Lexington,ʺ Sydney said. She pulled over to a nearby gas station, both to refill and so we could plug Donovanʹs address into her GPS. His place was about five miles away.

  ʺNot a great part of town, from what I hear,ʺ Dimitri said. ʺDonovan runs a tattoo parlor thatʹs only open at night. A couple of other Strigoi work with him. They get partiers, drunk kids . . . the kind of people that can easily disappear. The kind Strigoi love.ʺ

  ʺSeems like the police would eventually notice that every time someone went for a tattoo, they disappeared,ʺ I pointed out.

  Dimitri gave a harsh laugh. ʺWell, the ‘funnyʹ thing is that they donʹt kill everyone who comes in. They actually give tattoos to some of them and let them go. They smuggle drugs through the place too.ʺ

  I regarded him curiously, as Sydney slipped back into the car. ʺYou sure know a lot.ʺ

  ʺI made it my business to know a lot, and Strigoi have to keep a roof over their heads too. I actually met Donovan once and got most of this straight from the source. I just didnʹt know where exactly he worked out of until now.ʺ

  ʺOkay, so, weʹve got the info on him. What do we do with it?ʺ

  ʺLure him out. Send in a ‘customerʹ with a message from me needing to meet him. Iʹm not the kind of person he can ignore—well, that he used to not—never mind. Once heʹs out, we get him to a place we choose.ʺ

  I nodded. ʺI can do that.ʺ

  ʺNo,ʺ said Dimitri. ʺYou canʹt.ʺ

  ʺWhy not?ʺ I asked, wondering if he thought it was too dangerous for me.

  ʺBecause theyʹll know youʹre a dhampir the instant they see you. Theyʹll probably smell it first. No Strigoi would have a dhampir working for him—only humans.ʺ

  There was an uncomfortable silence in the car.

  ʺNo!ʺ said Sydney. ʺI am not doing that!ʺ

  Dimitri shook his head. ʺI donʹt like it either, but we donʹt have a lot of options. If he thinks you work for me, he wonʹt hurt you.ʺ

  ʺYeah? And what happens if he doesnʹt believe me?ʺ she demanded.

  ʺI donʹt think he can take the chance. Heʹll probably go with you to check things out, with the idea that if youʹre lying, theyʹll just kill you then.ʺ

  This didnʹt seem to make her feel any better. She groaned.

  ʺYou canʹt send her in,ʺ I said. ʺTheyʹll know sheʹs an Alchemist. One of those wouldnʹt work for Strigoi either.ʺ

  Surprisingly, Dimitri hadnʹt considered that. We grew quiet again, and it was Sydney who unexpectedly came up with a solution.

  ʺWhen I was inside the gas station,ʺ she said slowly, ʺthey had, like, one rack of makeup. We could probably cover most of my tattoo up with powder.ʺ

  And we did. The only compact the station sold wasnʹt a great match for her skin tone, but we caked enough of it on to obscure the golden lily on her cheek. Brushing her hair forward helped a little. Satisfied weʹd done all we could, we headed off to Donovanʹs.

  It was indeed in a rundown part of town. A few blocks away from the tattoo parlor, we spotted what looked like a nightclub, but otherwise, the neighborhood appeared deserted. I wasnʹt fooled, though. This was no place youʹd want to walk around alone at night. It screamed ʺmugging.ʺ Or worse.

  We checked out the area until Dimitri found a spot he felt good about. It was a back alley two buildings away from the parlor. A gnarled wired fence stood on one side while a low brick building flanked the other. Dimitri instructed Sydney on how to lead the Strigoi to us. She took it all in, nodding along, but I could see the fear in her eyes.

  ʺYou want to look awed,ʺ he told her. ʺHumans who serve Strigoi worship them—theyʹre eager to please. Since theyʹre around Strigoi so much, they arenʹt as startled or terrified. Still a little afraid, of course, but not as much as you look now.ʺ

  She swallowed. ʺI canʹt really help it.ʺ

  I felt bad for her. She strongly believed all vampires were evil, and we were sending her into a nest of the worst kind, putting her at great risk. I knew also that sheʹd only ever seen one live Strigoi, and despite Dimitriʹs coaching, seeing more could completely shell shock her. If she froze in front of Donovan, everything could fall apart. On impulse, I gave her a hug. To my surprise, she didnʹt resist.

  ʺYou can do this,ʺ I said. ʺYouʹre strong—and theyʹre too afraid of Dimitri. Okay?ʺ

  After a few deep breaths, Sydney nodded. We gave her a few more encouraging words, and then she turned the corner of the building, heading toward the street, and disappeared from our sight. I glanced at Dimitri.

  ʺWe may have just sent her to her death.ʺ

  His face was grim. ʺI know—but we canʹt do anything now. Youʹd better get into position.ʺ

  With his help, I managed to make it onto the roof of the low building. There was nothing intimate in the way he hoisted me up, but I couldnʹt help but have the same electric feeling all contact with him caused or note how easily we worked together. Once I was securely positioned, Dimitri headed for the opposite side of the building Sydney had gone around. He lurked just around the corner, and then there was nothing to do but wait.

  It was agonizing—and not just because we were on the verge of a fight. I kept thinking about Sydney, what weʹd asked her to do. My job was to protect the innocent from evil—not thrust them into the middle of it. What if our plan failed? Several minutes passed, and I finally heard footsteps and muttered voices at the same time a familiar wave of nausea moved through me. Weʹd pulled the Strigoi out.

  Three of them walked around the buildingʹs corner, Sydney in the lead. They came to a halt, and I spotted Donovan. He was the tallest—a former Moroi—with dark hair and a beard that reminded me of Abeʹs. Dimitri had given me his description so I wouldnʹt (hopefully) kill him. Donovanʹs henchmen hovered behind him, all of them alert and on guard. I tensed, my stake gripped tightly in my right hand.

  ʺBelikov?ʺ demanded Donovan, voice harsh. ʺWhere are you?ʺ

  ʺIʹm here,ʺ came Dimitriʹs response—in that cold, terrible Strigoi voice. He appeared from around the buildingʹs opposite corner, keeping to the shadows.

  Donovan relaxed slightly, recognizing Dimitri—but even in darkness, Dimitriʹs true appearance materialized. Donovan went rigid—suddenly seeing a threat, even if it was one that confused him and defied what he knew. At the exact same moment, one of his guys jerked his head around. ʺDhampirs!ʺ he exclaimed. It wasnʹt Dimitriʹs features that tipped him off. It was our scent, and I breathed a silent prayer of thanks that it had taken them this long to notice.

  Then, I leapt off the roof. It wasnʹt an easy distance to jump—but not one that would kill me. Plus, my fall was broken by a Strigoi.

  I landed on one of Donovanʹs guys, knocking him to the ground. I aimed my stake at his heart, but his reflexes were quick. With my lighter weight, I was easy to shove off. Iʹd expected it and managed to keep my footing. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sydney dropping low and hurrying off out of here, per our instructions. We wanted her away from the crossfire and had told her to go to the car, readying herself to take off if things went bad.

  Of course, with Strigoi, things were always bad. Donovan and his other guy had both gone for Dimitri, assessing him as the greater threat. My opponent, judging from his fanged smile, didnʹt seem to regard me as a threat at all. He lunged toward me, and I dodged away, but not before snaking out a kick that took him in the knee. My hit didnʹt seem to hurt him, but it did ruin his balance. I made another strike at staking and was thrown off again, hitting the ground hard. My bare legs scraped against the rough cement, tearing skin. Because my jeans had grown too dirty and torn, Iʹd been forced to wear a pair of shorts from the backpack Sydney had brought me. I ignored the pain, shooting right back up with speed the Strigoi didnʹt expect. My stake found his heart. The hit wasnʹt as hard as I would have liked, but it was enough to throw him off, then allowing me to drive the stake in further and finish him. Not even waiting to see him fall, I jerked my stake out and turned toward the o
thers.

  I hadnʹt hesitated once in the battle Iʹd just fought, but now, I paused at what I saw. Dimitriʹs face. It was . . . terrifying. Ferocious. Heʹd had a similar look when heʹd defended me at my arrest—that badass warrior god expression that said he could take on hell itself. The way he looked now . . . well, it took that fierceness to a whole new level. This was personal, I realized. Fighting these Strigoi wasnʹt just about finding Sonya and helping Lissa. This was about redemption, an attempt to destroy his past by destroying the evil directly in his path.

  I moved to join him, just as he staked the second henchman. There was power in that strike, much more power than Dimitri needed as he shoved the Strigoi against the brick wall and pierced his heart. It was impossible, but I could imagine that stake going straight through the body and into the wall. Dimitri put more attention and effort into that kill than he should have. He should have responded like I had and immediately turned to the next threat, once the Strigoi was dead. Instead, Dimitri was so fixated on his victim that he didnʹt notice Donovan taking advantage of the situation. Fortunately for Dimitri, I had his back.

  I slammed my body into Donovanʹs, shoving him away from Dimitri. As I did, I saw Dimitri pull out his stake and then slam the body against the wall again. Meanwhile, Iʹd successfully drawn Donovanʹs attention and was now having a difficult time eluding him without killing him.

  ʺDimitri!ʺ I yelled. ʺCome help me. I need you!ʺ

  I couldnʹt see what Dimitri was doing, but a few seconds later, he was by my side. With what almost sounded like a roar, he leapt at Donovan, stake out, and knocked the Strigoi to the ground. I breathed a sigh of relief and moved in to help with the restraint. Then, I saw Dimitri line up his stake with Donovanʹs heart.

  ʺNo!ʺ I dropped to the ground, trying to both hold Donovan and push away Dimitriʹs arm. ʺWe need him! Donʹt kill him!ʺ

  From the look on Dimitriʹs face, it was unclear if he even heard me. There was death in his eyes. He wanted to kill Donovan. The desire had suddenly taken precedence.

  Still trying to hold Donovan with one arm, I smacked Dimitri in the face with my other hand—going for the side I hadnʹt punched the other night. I donʹt think he felt the pain in his adrenaline rage, but the hit got his attention. ʺDonʹt kill him!ʺ I repeated.