Spirit Bound va-5

by Richelle Mead

  That they met by firelight and played dress-up? Yeah, I could see them wanting that kept a secret.

  "I won't tell anyone," I assured them.

  "Good," said Tatiana. "Now, you should still probably leave before–is that Christian Ozera?" Her eyes had drifted back toward the crowded room.

  "Yes," both Adrian and I said.

  "He didn't get an invitation," exclaimed Daniella. "Is that your fault too?"

  "It's not my fault so much as my genius," said Adrian.

  "I doubt anyone will know, so long as he behaves himself," said Tatiana with a sigh. "And I'm sure he'd take any opportunity he can to talk to Vasilisa."

  "Oh," I said, without thinking. "That's not Lissa." Lissa had actually turned her back toward Christian and was speaking to someone else while casting anxious looks out the door at me.

  "Who is it?" asked Tatiana.

  Crap. "That's, um, Mia Rinaldi. She's a friend of ours from St. Vladimir's." I'd almost considered lying and giving her a royal name. Some families were so big that it was impossible to keep track of everyone.

  "Rinaldi." Tatiana frowned. "I think I know a servant with that name." I was actually pretty impressed that she knew the people who worked for her. Yet again, my opinion of her shifted.

  "A servant?" asked Daniella, giving her son a warning look. "Is there anyone else I should know about?"

  "No. If I'd had more time, I probably could have got Eddie here. Hell, maybe even Jailbait."

  Daniella looked scandalized. "Did you just say Jailbait?"

  "It's just a joke," I said hastily, not wanting to make this situation worse. I was afraid of how Adrian might answer. "It's what we sometimes call our friend Jill Mastrano."

  Neither Tatiana nor Daniella seemed to think that was a joke at all.

  "Well, no one seems to realize they don't belong," said Daniella, nodding toward Christian and Mia. "Though the gossips here will no doubt be running wild with how Rose interrupted this event."

  "Sorry," I said, feeling bad that I might have gotten her in trouble.

  "Nothing to be done for it now," said Tatiana wearily. "You should leave now so that everyone thinks you were severely chastised. Adrian, you come back with us and make sure your other 'guests' don't raise any attention. And do not do something like this again."

  "I won't," he said, almost convincingly.

  The three began to turn away, leaving me to skulk off, but Tatiana paused and glanced back. "Wrong or not, don't forget what you saw here. We really do need guardians."

  I nodded, a flush of pride running through me at her acknowledgment. Then she and the others returned to the room. I watched them wistfully, hating that everyone in there thought I'd been kicked out in disgrace. Considering it could have gone a lot worse for me, I decided to count my blessings. I removed the mask, having nothing more to hide, and made the trek back upstairs and outdoors.

  I hadn't gotten very far when someone stepped out in front of me. It was a sign of my preoccupation that I nearly leapt ten feet in the air.

  "Mikhail," I exclaimed. "You scared me half to death. What are you doing out here?"

  "Actually, I've been looking for you." There was an anxious, nervous look about him. "I went by your building earlier, but you weren't around."

  "Yeah, I was at the Masquerade of the Damned."

  He stared at me blankly.

  "Never mind. What's up?"

  "I think we might have a chance."

  "Chance for what?"

  "I heard you tried to see Dimitri today."

  Ah, yes. The topic I definitely wanted to think more about. "Yeah. 'Try' is pretty optimistic. He doesn't want to see me, never mind the army of guardians blocking me out."

  Mikhail shifted uncomfortably, peering around like a frightened animal. "That's why I came to find you."

  "Okay, I'm really not following any of this." I was also starting to get a headache from the wine.

  Mikhail took a deep breath and exhaled. "I think I can sneak you in to see him."

  I waited for a moment, wondering if there was a punch line coming or if maybe this was all some delusion born out of my wound-up emotions. Nope. Mikhail's face was deadly serious, and while I still didn't know him that well, I'd picked up enough to realize he didn't really joke around.

  "How?" I asked. "I tried and–"

  Mikhail beckoned for me to follow. "Come on, and I'll explain. We don't have much time."

  I wasn't about to waste this chance and hurried after him. "Has something happened?" I asked, once I'd caught up to his longer stride. "Did . . . did he ask for me?" It was more than I dared to hope for. Mikhail's use of the word sneak didn't really support that idea anyway.

  "They've lightened his guard," Mikhail explained.

  "Really? How many?" There had been about a dozen down there when Lissa visited, including her escort. If they'd come to their senses and realized they only needed a guy or two on Dimitri, then that boded well for everyone accepting that he was no longer Strigoi.

  "He's down to about five."

  "Oh." Not great. Not horrible. "But I guess even that means they're a little closer to believing he's safe now?"

  Mikhail shrugged, keeping his eyes on the path ahead of us. It had rained during the Death Watch, and the air, while still humid, had cooled a little. "Some of the guardians do. But it'll take a royal decree from the Council to officially declare what he is."

  I almost came to a halt. "Declare what he is?" I exclaimed. "He's not a what! He's a person. A dhampir like us."

  "I know, but it's out of our hands."

  "You're right. Sorry," I grumbled. No point in shooting the messenger. "Well, I hope they get off their asses and come to a decision soon."

  The silence that followed spoke legions. I gave Mikhail a sharp glare.

  "What? What aren't you telling me?" I demanded.

  He shrugged. "The rumor is that there's some other big thing being debated in the Council right now, something that takes priority."

  That enraged me too. What in the world could take priority over Dimitri? Calm, Rose. Stay calm. Focus. Don't let the darkness make this worse. I always fought to keep it buried, but it often exploded in times of stress. And this? Yeah, this was a pretty stressful time. I shifted back to the original topic.

  We reached the holding building, and I took the steps up two at a time. "Even if they've lightened the guardians on Dimitri, they still won't let me in. The ones that are there would know I was ordered to keep away."

  "A friend of mine's covering the front shift right now. We won't have long, but he'll tell the guardians in the holding area that you were authorized to come down."

  Mikhail was about to open the door, and I stopped him, putting my hand on his arm. "Why are you doing this for me? The Moroi Council might not think Dimitri's a big deal, but the guardians do. You could get in big trouble."

  He looked down at me, again with that small, bitter smile. "Do you have to ask?"

  I thought about it. "No," I said softly.

  "When I lost Sonya . . ." Mikhail closed his eyes for a heartbeat, and when he opened them, they seemed to be staring off into the past. "When I lost her, I didn't want to go on living. She was a good person–really. She turned Strigoi out of desperation. She saw no other way to save herself from spirit. I would give anything–anything–for a chance to help her, to fix things between us. I don't know if that'll ever be possible for us, but it is possible for you right now. I can't let you lose this."

  With that, he let us in, and sure enough, there was a different guardian on duty. Just as Mikhail had said, the guy called down to tell the jail guardians Dimitri had a visitor. Mikhail's friend seemed incredibly nervous about it all, which was understandable. Still, he was willing to help. It was amazing, I thought, what friends would do for each other. These last couple of weeks were undeniable proof of that.

  Just like at Lissa's visit, two guardians showed up to escort me downstairs. I recognized them from when I'd been in her h
ead, and they seemed surprised to see me. If they'd overheard Dimitri adamantly saying he didn't want me to visit, then my presence would indeed be shocking. But as far as they knew, someone in power had condoned me being here, so they asked no questions.

  Mikhail trailed us as we wound our way down, and I felt my heartbeat and breathing grow rapid. Dimitri. I was about to see Dimitri. What would I say? What would I do? It was almost too much to comprehend. I had to keep mentally slapping myself to focus, or else I was going to slide into dumbstruck shock.

  When we reached the hallway that held the cells, I saw two guardians standing in front of Dimitri's cell, one at the far end, and two others by the entrance we'd come through. I stopped, uneasy about the thought of others overhearing me talk to Dimitri. I didn't want an audience like Lissa had had, but with the emphasis on security here, I might not have a choice.

  "Can I get a little privacy?" I asked.

  One of my escorts shook his head. "Official orders. Two guardians have to be posted at the cell at all times."

  "She's a guardian," pointed out Mikhail mildly. "So am I. Let us go. The rest can wait by the door."

  I flashed Mikhail a grateful look. I could handle having him nearby. The others, deciding we would be safe enough, moved discreetly to the ends of the hall. It wasn't total and complete privacy, but they wouldn't hear everything.

  My heart felt ready to burst from my chest as Mikhail and I walked over to Dimitri's cell and faced it. He was seated almost as he had been when Lissa arrived: on the bed, curled up into himself, back facing us.

  Words stuck in my throat. Coherent thought fled from my mind. It was like I'd totally forgotten the reason I'd come here.

  "Dimitri," I said. At least, that's what I tried to say. I choked up a little, so the sounds that came out of my mouth were garbled. It was apparently enough, though, because Dimitri's back suddenly went rigid. He didn't turn around.

  "Dimitri," I repeated, more clearly this time. "It's . . . me."

  There was no need for me to say any more. He'd known from that first attempt at his name who I was. I had a feeling he would have known my voice in any situation. He probably knew the sound of my heartbeat and breathing. As it was, I think I stopped breathing while I waited for his response. When it came, it was a little disappointing.

  "No."

  "No what?" I asked. "As in, no, it's not me?"

  He exhaled in frustration, a sound almost–but not quite–like the one he used to make when I did something particularly ridiculous in our trainings. "No, as in I don't want to see you." His voice was thick with emotion. "They weren't supposed to let you in."

  "Yeah. Well, I kind of found a work-around."

  "Of course you did."

  He still wouldn't face me, which was agonizing. I glanced over at Mikhail, who gave me a nod of encouragement. I guessed I should be glad that Dimitri was talking to me at all.

  "I had to see you. I had to know if you were okay."

  "I'm sure Lissa's already updated you."

  "I had to see for myself."

  "Well, now you see."

  "All I see is your back."

  It was maddening, yet every word I got out of him was a gift. It felt like a thousand years since I'd heard his voice. Like before, I wondered how I could have ever confused the Dimitri in Siberia with this one. His voice had been identical in both places, the same pitch and accent, yet as a Strigoi, his words had always left a chill in the air. This was warm. Honey and velvet and all sorts of wonderful things wrapping around me, no matter the terrible things he was saying.

  "I don't want you here," said Dimitri flatly. "I don't want to see you."

  I took a moment to assess strategy. Dimitri still had that depressed, hopeless feel around him. Lissa had approached it with kindness and compassion. She'd gotten through his defenses, though a lot of that was because he regarded her as his savior. I could try a similar tactic. I could be gentle and supportive and full of love–all of which were true. I loved him. I wanted to help him so badly. Yet I wasn't sure that particular method would work for me. Rose Hathaway was not always known for the soft approach. I did, however, play on his sense of obligation.

  "You can't ignore me," I said, trying to keep my volume out of range of the other guardians. "You owe me. I saved you."

  A few moments of silence passed. "Lissa saved me," he said carefully.

  Anger burned within my chest, just it had when I'd watched Lissa visit him. How could he hold her in such high regard but not me?

  "How do you think she got to that point?" I demanded. "How do you think she learned how to save you? Do you have any idea what we–what I-had to go through to get that information? You think me going to Siberia was crazy? Believe me, you haven't even come close to seeing crazy. You know me. You know what I'm capable of. And I broke my own records this time. You. Owe. Me."

  It was harsh, but I needed a reaction from him. Some kind of emotion. And I got it. He jerked around, eyes glinting and power crackling through his body. As always, his movements were both fierce and graceful. Likewise, his voice was a mix of emotions: anger, frustration, and concern.

  "Then the best thing I can do is–"

  He froze. The brown eyes that had been narrowed with aggravation suddenly went wide with . . . what? Amazement? Awe? Or perhaps that stunned feeling I kept having when I saw him?

  Because suddenly, I was pretty sure he was experiencing the same thing I had earlier. He'd seen me plenty of times in Siberia. He'd seen me just the other night at the warehouse. But now . . . now he was truly viewing me with his own eyes. Now that he was no longer Strigoi, his whole world was different. His outlook and feelings were different. Even his soul was different.

  It was like one of those moments when people talked about their lives flashing before their eyes. Because as we stared at one another, every part of our relationship replayed in my mind's eye. I remembered how strong and invincible he'd been when we first met, when he'd come to bring Lissa and me back to the folds of Moroi society. I remembered the gentleness of his touch when he'd bandaged my bloodied and battered hands. I remembered him carrying me in his arms after Victor's daughter Natalie had attacked me. Most of all, I remembered the night we'd been together in the cabin, just before the Strigoi had taken him. A year. We'd known each other only a year, but we'd lived a lifetime in it.

  And he was realizing that too, I knew, as he studied me. His gaze was all-powerful, taking in every single one of my features and filing them away. Dimly, I tried to recall what I looked like today. I still wore the dress from the secret meeting and knew it looked good on me. My eyes were probably bloodshot from crying earlier, and I'd only had time for a quick brushing of my hair before heading off with Adrian.

  Somehow, I doubted any of it mattered. The way Dimitri was looking at me . . . it confirmed everything I'd suspected. The feelings he'd had for me before he'd been turned–the feelings that had become twisted while a Strigoi–were all still there. They had to be. Maybe Lissa was his savior. Maybe the rest of the Court thought she was a goddess. I knew, right then, that no matter how bedraggled I looked or how blank he tried to keep his face, I was a goddess to him.

  He swallowed and forcibly gained control of himself, just like he always had. Some things never changed. "Then the best thing I can do," he continued calmly, "is to stay away from you. That's the best way to repay the debt."

  It was hard for me to keep control and maintain some sort of logical conversation. I was as awestruck as he was. I was also outraged. "You offered to repay Lissa by staying by her side forever!"

  "I didn't do the things . . ." He averted his eyes for a moment, again struggling for control, and then met mine once more. "I didn't do the things to her that I did to you."

  "You weren't you! I don't care." My temper was starting to burn again

  "How many?" he exclaimed. "How many guardians died last night because of what I did?"

  "I . . . I think six or seven." Harsh losses. I felt a small pang in
my chest, recalling the names read off in that basement room.

  "Six or seven," Dimitri repeated flatly, anguish in his voice. "Dead in one night. Because of me."

  "You didn't act alone! And I told you, you weren't you. You couldn't control yourself. It doesn't matter to me–"

  "It matters to me!" he shouted, his voice ringing through the hallway. The guardians at each end shifted but didn't approach. When Dimitri spoke again, he kept his voice lower, but it was still trembling with wild emotions. "It matters to me. That's what you don't get. You can't understand. You can't understand what it's like knowing what I did. That whole time being Strigoi . . . it's like a dream now, but it's one I remember clearly. There can be no forgiveness for me. And what happened with you? I remember that most of all. Everything I did. Everything I wanted to do."

  "You're not going to do it now," I pleaded. "So let it go. Before-before everything happened, you said we could be together. That we'd get assignments near each other and–"

  "Roza," he interrupted, the nickname piercing my heart. I think he'd slipped up, not truly meaning to call me that. There was a twisted smile on his lips, one without humor. "Do you really think they're going to ever let me be a guardian again? It'll be a miracle if they let me live!"

  "That's not true. Once they realize you've changed and that you're really your old self . . . everything'll go back to how it was."

  He shook his head sadly. "Your optimism . . . your belief that you can make anything happen. Oh, Rose. It's one of the amazing things about you. It's also one of the most infuriating things about you."

  "I believed that you could come back from being a Strigoi," I pointed out. "Maybe my belief in the impossible isn't so crazy after all."

  This conversation was so grave, so heartbreaking, yet it still kept reminding me of some of our old practice sessions. He'd try to convince me of some serious point, and I'd counter it with Rose-logic. It would usually earn me a mix of amusement and exasperation. I had the feeling that were the situation just a little different, he'd have that same attitude now. But this was not a practice session. He wouldn't smile and roll his eyes. This was serious. This was life and death.