The Fiery Heart b-4

by Richelle Mead

  Rose’s errand boy scurried away. With nothing to do but wait, Rose leaned against Dimitri and sighed. Neil, surprisingly, began lauding Olive for her determination and bravery. I was too restless to simply stand around, so I wandered out to the porch, wishing for the first time in a while that I had a cigarette, both because it was a nervous habit and because it could take the edge off spirit. Instead, I contented myself with pacing and obsessively checking for messages from Sydney.

  “Expecting a call?” Nina appeared in the doorway, wrapped in the blanket again.

  I put the phone away. “Just hoping I might hear from someone.”

  “Girlfriend?”

  “A friend who’s a girl,” I said smugly. “I have a few ‘friends’ like that.”

  She leaned against the porch’s wall, the inside lights illuminating her in the night’s darkness. “So I’ve heard. I didn’t realize who you were at first.”

  “Should you have?”

  She shrugged. “You and your family are kind of well known.”

  I didn’t ask her to elaborate. She could’ve been talking about Aunt Tatiana—or my mom, who was locked away in prison somewhere. No one would tell me where, and when I had tried to dream visit, she’d ordered me away with such vehemence that I had uncharacteristically obeyed. I wasn’t sure if she was freaked out about spirit dreams or just embarrassed at me seeing her in that state. I held on to the hope that I’d get a better reception if I showed up in person, but that didn’t seem to be a possibility anytime soon. With all the other complications in my life, I kept her on the far edges of my mind and contented myself with writing letters to her that were never sent. Not even Sydney knew that.

  “Well,” I said, putting on the arrogant role everyone expected of me, “I’m not surprised about that. My charm and good looks are legendary—especially with women.”

  “I’m sure,” Nina said with a rueful smile. “But you aren’t what I expected. Thank you . . . for helping Olive.”

  “Thank yourself for that. I’m not doing anything.”

  “You’re helping her get over this—mentally. I mean, we haven’t had a chance to talk much, but I can tell. I know her and realize how traumatic this was for her.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know her, and even I can see how traumatic it was. That, and I know enough people who’ve gone through it.”

  Nina was silent for a long time. “Do they ever get over it?” she asked quietly.

  I thought about the haunted look I still sometimes saw in Dimitri’s and Sonya’s eyes. “No. But they learn to go on with their lives. Olive will too.”

  “Do you know how it happened?” Nina wrapped the blanket around her more tightly as a cool breeze ruffled her curly hair. “She was protecting our dad. He never even considered not letting us grow up together, you know. He and my mom split up, and then he married Olive’s mom. She’s a dhampir, obviously. Or was. She passed away a few years ago.”

  “Brave guy,” I said. Moroi men usually kept their dhampir mistresses in the shadows.

  “Amazing guy. But not royal. When Olive was in school, she found out there’d never be any way she could protect him when she was a guardian. They told her she’d have to go wherever she was assigned when she graduated—which would be some royal.” Nina chuckled at the memory. “She didn’t take that quietly.”

  I thought back to Olive’s face, determined even in her weakened state. “I can see that.”

  “So she left the school and made herself Dad’s unofficial guardian. He wasn’t happy about that—dropping out of school. But he respected the reasons and let her do it, so long as she took human GED classes. Everything was great, until . . .” Her words choked off.

  “Strigoi?” I guessed.

  “He was attacked on a business trip. She threw herself in their path, so Dad could get away. He did. She didn’t. I thought she was dead for a long time, and when I found out she wasn’t, I read everything I could about Dimitri Belikov and Sonya Karp. I got my friend James to help me . . . and here we are.”

  “It was very brave,” I said. It was also incredibly dangerous, but who was I to fault her? I knew without a doubt I’d do something equally risky to save someone I loved. Hell, I’d brought Jill back from the dead.

  The silver-seeking guardian arrived later, just before the nurse. No one bothered telling the nurse what was going on, mostly because we were all too keyed up. She glanced around nervously as she entered Olive’s bedroom and silently set to work. For all the fuss, it was pretty simple. Less than a minute to draw the blood, and it was all done. She put a stopper on the vial and held it out uncertainly. I took it from her and peered at it intently. There it was, spirit still humming inside—but also still gradually fading.

  I swore and quickly took hold of the silver rings. Our courier had done a good job. The rings were thick and plain and large enough to go around the vial. But I’d never charmed silver and had only a vague understanding of it, based on Lissa’s explanations. Feeling everyone’s eyes on me only made things worse. The metal was cool against my skin, and the rush of spirit filled me as I tried to send it into the ring. My plan was to create a type of compulsion that would trap the spirit within the blood. It would require making the two variants of magic butt heads, something I wasn’t even sure was possible. I glanced up at the nurse.

  “You aren’t an earth user, are you?”

  “No,” she said. “Air.”

  Pretty much the opposite of what I needed. Spirit users exceled at compulsion more than other kinds of Moroi, but earth users had an affinity to metals and other things that dwelt in the ground. Silver readily accepted magic, but I wouldn’t have minded an edge and wished I’d thought to have them rustle up an earth user. Too late now.

  “Here.” Nina walked up beside me and rested her hand over the ring in my palm. I felt her magic rise—only a trickle compared with mine—and help guide my spell into the ring. My hold faltered as I stared at her in surprise.

  “You’ve made charms before.”

  “A few.”

  Once I saw how she did it, I was able to successfully meld spirit into the silver. I did it four more times with the other rings, and although I kept repeating to myself how Sydney believed in me, I also had a brief reminder of that concern in her eyes, her warnings about how continuing to use spirit would harm my mind. And I wasn’t just using spirit today. I was drowning in it. Between using it to “peer” into Olive’s blood and now this charm making, I felt as though I were made of spirit. It was overwhelming, but what I could do? Everyone was counting on me, and by the time I finished, I could barely stand. I rested my hand on the back of a chair to steady myself and handed the rings to Dimitri. “Put them around the vial.”

  The rings were a little larger around, and so he ended up setting the vial in a small box stuffed with cotton so that the rings wouldn’t slip off. Palpable silence filled the room, and he handed the box back to me. I used the last of my strength to study the spirit in the blood. The magic was still in there, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t trickling out. I glanced at Nina for confirmation, but she shook her head.

  “I can’t see what you see.”

  “Then this is as good as it gets.” I gave the box back to Dimitri. “Get it back to Court for Sonya as soon as possible. She’s your best bet for figuring it out now. I think I’ve got it stabilized, but I don’t know for how long.” As the others scurried to make travel plans, I felt the room sway. I needed to get out of here but couldn’t stand to show weakness in front of these people who’d placed so many hopes on me. I finally sought help from the person least likely to judge me and touched Nina’s arm. “Can we talk in private about, uh, spirit stuff?”

  “Sure.” She gave Olive a few soothing words and then left Neil to keep the younger girl company. Nina walked out of the room with me and looked up in concern. “What’d you want to talk about?”

  “Nothing,” I said through gritted teeth. “I actually just need you to find me some place to lie
down because I’ll be damned if I faint in front of Rose and Belikov.”

  Her eyes widened, but she wasted no time and took me to her room. Under other circumstances, I might have had the nobility to tell her I couldn’t take her bed away from her. But exhaustion trumped chivalry. I collapsed onto the narrow bed, and for once in my life, I had no trouble falling asleep.

  I awoke to morning sunlight pouring through the window. Jerking upright, I looked around, not sure where I was. Then, everything came back to me. Some of my strength had returned, but I still felt tired. Nearby, Rose sat with a human woman who bore the neck bites and telltale daze of a feeder.

  “Breakfast,” said Rose.

  I wasted no time on pleasantries and sank my teeth into the woman’s neck. The rush it gave me caught me by surprise. I’d been so sated on Dorothy recently that I’d almost come to take blood in stride, the way I would a glass of milk. Now, burned out and weak, I was hit with the full impact of how much my body needed the blood of others. It was as essential as air and water for Moroi, and as I drank greedily, I was certain I’d never tasted anything so sweet and pure.

  The feeder relaxed happily into her chair when I finished, lost in a world of endorphins. “Glad it was good for you too,” I told her, settling back against the pillows. I exhaled in satisfaction as the blood’s energy continued working its way through me. “So what’s the word, little dhampir?”

  Rose’s dark eyes regarded me with amusement. “You slept for ten hours. Dimitri left with Nina and Olive and the other guardians. Sonya’s on her way back to Court, so hopefully they’ll all meet up soon. It’s just you, me, and Neil.”

  “You think Nina and Olive are ready to travel?” I asked.

  “They were a lot better this morning too. And we didn’t want to waste any time getting them back, just in case Sonya’s still able to see something.”

  I swung my legs over the bed’s edge and stood up, pleased to see the world was stable again. “I don’t want to waste time either. I need to get back to Palm Springs.” Back to Sydney. “Thanks for sticking around.”

  Rose nodded and stood as well. “Thanks for all you did. I don’t understand a lot of it, but Nina did, and she was pretty impressed.”

  “All in a day’s work,” I said, hoping she believed me. I was fully aware that the spirit I’d used was off the charts. And I was also fully aware that there’d be a price.

  A sly smile crossed Rose’s lips. “I think Nina likes you. Maybe you could look her up the next time you’re at Court. Would do you good to settle down.” It was a dangerous comment, considering our past, but it no longer bothered me.

  “What, and disappoint all the women of the world? How cruel do you think I am?”

  She caught hold of my arm as I was about to go into the living room and join Neil. “Adrian, in all seriousness . . . I mean it, thank you for this. I’m sorry for what I said last night. You have changed. And . . . it looks good on you.”

  “Most things do,” I told her.

  That broke her serious mien. “Always a joke with you. I guess I shouldn’t expect that to go away.”

  Then, astonishingly, she hugged me. Again, I was floored at how immune I was to it. That wasn’t to say I felt nothing, but it wasn’t the pain or longing for an ex. The hug was just a kind gesture from a friend.

  We all went to the airport together; Rose was off to Pennsylvania, while Neil and I headed back to Palm Springs. A check of my cell phone at the gate found a number of messages from Sydney, excited that she’d made a breakthrough in her charm. Warmth flooded me as I imagined her face and that glint that shone in her eyes when she made some sort of intellectual discovery.

  I wrote: I never doubted. Would you believe I made a breakthrough with charms too?

  Her response came fast. Of course I believe it. When do you get back?

  Early evening. Can you come over?

  I’ll try. We need to celebrate.

  Should I get champagne and cake ready?

  Get your bed ready.

  Wear the black bra.

  I didn’t plan on wearing one.

  “God help me,” I murmured, earning a surprised glance from Neil.

  I sincerely doubted we would cross the line into sex during a furtive visit like this, but just the hint of her touch made everything else in the world fade to unimportance. I felt my pulse quicken as I thought of that look she got in her eyes sometimes, the animal one that had no interest in books and was usually followed by the urgency of her lips against mine and her hands tightening against my back. Everyone thought Sydney had passion only for intellectual pursuits. That was their loss.

  Daydreams of Sydney kept me on a high for the flight home, even making Neil’s conversation bearable. He’d become uncharacteristically chatty, wanting to talk about how to help with the “Strigoi vaccine.” He also kept going on and on about how brave the Sinclair sisters were—especially Olive. I could spot infatuation a mile away and put on my gravest look for him. “I’ve never seen courage like hers. I can’t even begin to relate to it. You’re probably the only one who understands that sort of awesome bravery. She can tell too. It was obvious from the way she was talking to you.”

  Neil’s breath caught. “You think so?”

  “Absolutely. It was in her eyes. You should keep in touch. I’ll get her contact info when we’re back home. It’d probably help her, having someone else to talk to.”

  That, at least, kept him dazed and happy. I was going to get in trouble with Jill for this, but I was still subscribing to the idea that she’d eventually thank me when she ran off with some Moroi prince. Or Eddie. I’d take either one.

  When we landed in Palm Springs, I kind of hoped Sydney might be there to give us a ride from the airport, but we instead received messages to catch cabs to our respective homes. I also had a text from Jill waiting: I know what you’re doing with Neil. You’re mean. How will I ever have a healthy relationship?

  By being with someone else, I wrote back.

  Once I’d dropped off my suitcase and was in control of my own car, I headed out to a nearby grocery store. I felt like I was walking on air, buzzed with what I’d accomplished in Dallas and excited to see Sydney again. Being with her was about more than bras (or lack thereof). I also just wanted to be near her. I felt lonely inside my own head. Even with Jill or countless other friends, there was no one except Sydney that I truly felt comfortable with. She was the only one who truly saw me or heard me.

  Inspiration hit, and I decided to make something for her tonight. Why wait for her birthday? Like she’d said, this was a special occasion. We were both celebrating our triumphs. Somehow, I became obsessed with the idea of making crème brûlée, even though I never had before. In fact, I’d never really made any sort of dessert, short of opening a carton of ice cream. But crème brûlée sounded classy, I was in love, and I felt unstoppable after doing what few others could do with spirit. How hard could one dessert be?

  Before I could even answer that question, an internet search on my phone told me I needed a lot more equipment than my sparse kitchen had. By the time I hit the checkout line with my mini-blowtorch, ramekins, cream, egg separator, double boiler, and organic vanilla beans, I’d racked up a surprisingly high bill—more than my bank account held. Or my credit card permitted, for that matter.

  “Sorry,” said the cashier, handing it back to me. “Declined.”

  An uneasy feeling welled up in my stomach. “Can we try it again?”

  She shrugged and ran it once more, only to get the same result. “Declined,” she repeated.

  I nearly asked again but knew in my gut that nothing would change. Feeling like a total idiot, I abandoned my goods and left the store, unsure what I was going to do now. Panic began to rise up within me. I kept telling myself that neither my bank account nor my credit card were actually at zero. They just didn’t have enough to cover a crème brûlée cooking kit. But just how much was left? That was something I needed to go find out. I only had to su
rvive two weeks until my next payday, and as I made the agonizing drive home, I tried to add up what expenses I had to juggle. Gas. Groceries—unless I could get Dorothy to feed me. Had I paid electricity yet? I couldn’t remember, but I knew cable was taken care of—not that it’d do me much good if they turned the power off.

  Relax, Adrian, I told myself. You’ve still got money. And they won’t cut the electricity if you’re a little late on a bill.

  But when I got home and checked my balances, I saw that even though I wasn’t at empty yet, I was pretty damned close. What was I going to do? I could barely scrape by with my living expenses, let alone the ever-looming task of Sydney’s birthday. I sank down on the floor near the still-packed boxes of records and glared at them.

  “Stupid, stupid,” I muttered. “I am so stupid.”

  The high I’d been riding from my triumph in Texas crashed to the ground. Despair settled around me, its dark tendrils slowly creeping under my skin. After what I’d done yesterday, it was expected that I’d be susceptible to the magic’s ups and downs. I’d had the up earlier today . . . now the down would try to come, seizing on annoyances like this and making them bigger than they were. And then, on cue, I heard her voice.

  Why are you so sad? You aren’t stupid. You’re my brilliant, beautiful boy. You’ll figure a way out of this.

  I could hear Aunt Tatiana’s voice as clearly as if she stood beside me. I buried my face in my hands. “Go away, Aunt Tatiana. I don’t need to add hallucinations to my growing list of problems.”

  Since when was I problem?

  “Since you died and I started imagining I could hear you.”

  Are you saying you can’t, sweetling?

  “Yes! I mean, no. This is a trick. This is all in my head.” It was another secret I’d kept from Sydney, how in my darkest moments lately, I imagined conversations with my dead aunt. It was one of the most terrifying things that had ever happened to me because while certain actions might be jokingly called crazy, there was no question that ghostly imaginings actually were crazy. “I don’t want to talk to you.”