The Fiery Heart b-4

by Richelle Mead

  I gave him a stiff smile, swallowing the urge to tell him I still fit firmly in a size four. I was just a much healthier-looking four, rather than a slightly malnourished one. Meanwhile, Zoe—who’d been about to set the menu down—quickly opened it again when she heard him rebuke me. She’d probably planned on ordering tempura, one of her favorite dishes, and now feared my dad’s ire over fried food. I could stomach him making comments about my weight, but if he said anything to her, I was going to have to resist the urge to throw my tea at him. In the end, she ordered what I did, even though I knew she didn’t really like sushi.

  Once the waiter left with our orders, my dad took out two manila envelopes and handed us each one. “No point in wasting time. As you can see, I’ve gathered information to help you in your testimony against your mother.”

  I had to shut my jaw as I flipped through pages of my mother’s life. College transcripts, job history. There were a number of photographs, including one taken during what looked like a yoga class. I held it up. It showed several students, including my mom, walking out of the studio and carrying their mats.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “See that man there?” My dad pointed at one of the guys talking to my mother. “That’s her instructor. She talked to him a lot during her sessions.”

  “Well, wouldn’t she if he’s her instructor?”

  There was an ugly sneer on my dad’s lips. “Unless there were other reasons.”

  “What?” The picture slipped from my hand. “No. No way. Mom would never have an affair.”

  He shrugged. “She wants a divorce, doesn’t she?”

  I could’ve named a dozen reasons she wanted one, but I instead opted for neutrality. “Do you have any other proof?”

  “No,” he admitted. “But it doesn’t matter. The insinuation is enough. We just need to make her look unreliable. Dropping out of college helps, as does her sketchy employment history. She’s never held a full-time job.”

  “Because she was taking care of us,” I said. My dad had looked out for our education, but she was the one who handled our day-to-day lives, managing the house and hugging us through our injuries.

  “Again—not important. There’s enough documentation here to demonstrate what a fickle parental figure she’d be. At the very least, it’ll ensure joint custody, though I’d be surprised if I didn’t get full.”

  “Do you have any ins on the legal side?” I asked, again with a forced smile.

  He scowled. “No, though not for lack of trying.”

  “So they’ll just have to base the case on facts,” I remarked, deadpan.

  “Yes. We’ll be fine if you girls do your part.” He paused as the waiter delivered hot towels. “I know I don’t have to tell you how important this is. Zoe is a valuable asset in our cause, which is growing more and more critical each day. The reintroduction of vampire hunters has gotten a lot of attention. We can’t let their chaotic nature ruin what we’ve worked for.”

  That was a relief, at least. Most Alchemists found the Warriors of Light to be a primitive group of trigger-happy rebels, though Marcus had discovered recent evidence that some Alchemists were working with the Warriors. There was also evidence that the Warriors knew about Jill. I was glad my dad was on the side of reason and mainstream Alchemist thought here.

  To my surprise, he looked directly at me. “A lot of what we know is a result of your efforts.” It was as close as he could get to a compliment.

  “I just did what I had to do,” I told him.

  “Between that, uncovering Keith’s crimes, and stomaching that wedding, you’ve caught the attention of many of our higher-ups.”

  Awkward silence fell. Condemnation was more our status quo than praise, and I certainly wasn’t sure how to handle it. Zoe cleared her throat. “I supervised a feeding by myself,” she said proudly. “I mean, not the actual blood drinking part. But Sydney couldn’t make it when the Moroi had to go to Clarence Donahue’s house for a feeding. So I took over.”

  My dad jerked his gaze back to me. “Why couldn’t you make it?”

  “I had to work on a school project,” I explained.

  “I see.” But there was a small frown on his face.

  “Sydney’s always working on school projects,” Zoe added. I think she was hurt that her “supervising” role hadn’t received more acknowledgment. “Always gone after school. Always running errands and hanging out with her history teacher.”

  “We don’t hang out,” I countered.

  “You have coffee together, don’t you?” asked Zoe triumphantly.

  “Well, yeah, but that’s not—”

  “What subject is this for?” my dad interrupted. “Chemistry?”

  Zoe and I answered in unison. “History.”

  His frown deepened. “That’s a nonessential subject. All of them are, actually. You’ve already received a superior education.”

  “Yes, but keeping my cover is essential,” I pointed out. “Being an exemplary student has a lot of advantages. They give me a lot of freedom, and being able to leave campus after hours to run errands for Ms. Terwilliger means I’m able to get away and help the Moroi if needed without drawing attention. We can’t risk them doing something stupid and creating a scene.”

  That seemed to mollify our dad, but Zoe was on the offensive now. “It’s more than that. You and her are friends. You talk about vacations to Greece and Rome.”

  Where had this come from? I’d expected to face interrogation from my dad, not her. “So what if we talk sometimes? She’s human. No harm.”

  “The harm is you can’t give your full attention to the mission.” There was a hard look on Zoe’s face I didn’t like. “And maybe she’s human, but you certainly have Moroi and dhampir friends.”

  Our dad’s eyebrows shot up, but the food arrived just then, giving me time to build a response. He jumped before I could. “What does that mean—Moroi and dhampir friends?”

  “Sydney hangs out with them,” Zoe declared. “Does favors for them.”

  I fixed her with a hard glare that made her flinch. “It’s my job to oversee them. There’s a fine line of learning how to socialize with them in order to earn their trust and get them to do what I need—something you haven’t picked up on yet. Good God, I had to live with one! I was ordered to, something you’d never be able to handle, seeing as you freaked out ‘supervising’ that dinner. So don’t judge my style, seeing as you aren’t the one who uncovered Keith, the Warriors, and everything else.”

  “Now, now, girls. Don’t fight.” Yet I couldn’t help but notice my dad looked delighted by it. I think he thought competition made us stronger. “You both make excellent points. Zoe, Sydney has demonstrated time and again how loyal she is and how outstandingly she can perform her job. Sydney, Zoe’s right that you shouldn’t get too caught up in this teacher or the Moroi, even if it is part of your cover. There are certain lines that must never, ever be crossed. You saw that with Keith, when he succumbed to making deals with Moroi.”

  Zoe and I were cowed for several moments. “Do you know how Keith is?” I asked.

  My dad’s features smoothed out. “Yes, he’s been released.”

  I was so surprised, I dropped the sushi I’d carefully lifted with my chopsticks. “He has?”

  “Yes. He was successfully re-educated and is now working in Charleston. In an office, of course. He’s certainly not ready for the field. But it’s a relief to all of us that the education took. It doesn’t always, unfortunately. Not even when they reinforce the tattoo.”

  The hair stood up on the back of my neck. “Reinforce the tattoo? You mean re-inking?”

  “Somewhat.” He was very careful with his words. “Let’s just say, there are certain modifications to the ink that can help troubled souls like Keith.”

  Until Marcus had told me about this, I’d never heard anyone give voice to it. “Ink with stronger compulsion for obedience and group loyalty?”

  My dad’s eyes narrowed. “How
do you know about that?” he demanded.

  “I’ve heard rumors.” I prayed he wouldn’t demand details but was fully prepared to lie. His gaze weighed me for several long moments before he finally decided not to press me for more.

  “It’s an ugly step,” he said at last. “And it relies on getting help from them. But it’s necessary. People like Keith are a danger not just to us, but to all of humanity. Maybe the Moroi aren’t as bad as the Strigoi, but they aren’t natural. They aren’t part of the order of this world, and we must keep their influence away from our fellow man. It’s our duty. Our divine duty. Anyone who can’t understand the balance we maintain with these monsters hurts the cause. Yes, it took a lot of intervention, but Keith has been reclaimed. We’ve saved his soul. You did, Sydney.” Inspiration lit my dad’s face. “You should talk to him sometime. You should see the good you’ve done.”

  I shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, I—”

  “After dinner,” my dad said decisively. “We’ll call him then.”

  A rebellious part of me wanted to ask, “Aren’t we having lunch?” But I bit my tongue. I didn’t really feel like talking anymore. Thankfully, Zoe was still gung ho to get his attention and talked enough for both of us. And as the meal wound down, it drifted back to the court hearing. I nodded along mechanically.

  “I’m glad I can count on you two,” he said as we stood up to leave. “Not that I doubted—but after Carly, well. It’s hard to say.”

  “What about Carly?” I asked quickly. I noticed he hadn’t left a tip, and I discreetly tossed cash on the table as we walked away.

  He scowled. “She’s going to speak on behalf of your mother. But don’t worry. It won’t be enough.”

  Joy filled me, and I struggled to keep it off my face. Carly was standing up to our dad! Admittedly, she didn’t face the same pressures Zoe and I did, but I was so proud of my older sister. She was usually the timid one in the family. For her to make this stand for our mother meant she’d come a long way. I wondered if she’d ever have the courage to tell how Keith had raped her. This was a start.

  Speaking of Keith . . . my father was determined to show me the “good” I’d done, no matter how much I assured him it wasn’t necessary. When we got to the parking lot, he made a couple of calls to get him through to Keith, and—worst of all—used the video feature. I silently begged for Keith to be doing something, anything, that would keep him away. No luck. After a minute or so, my dad finally got through, and Keith’s face appeared on the phone’s screen. Zoe and I crowded on each side of my dad.

  “Mr. Sage,” said Keith. His voice was flat. “It’s so nice to hear from you.”

  I gasped in spite of myself. Keith had once been arrogant and obnoxious. In re-education, he’d been frantic and terrified. Now . . . there was nothing. He was blank. An automaton. One of his eyes was glass, but if I hadn’t known which one, I never would have been able to tell now.

  “I have Sydney and Zoe here,” my dad explained. “Sydney’s been worried about you.”

  “Hello, Sydney.” I think he smiled, but it was hard to tell. “I’ve been wanting to thank you. I was sick, and now I’m better. I let myself get deceived by those creatures of evil. If not for you, I’d have lost my soul.”

  My tongue felt thick. “That . . . that’s great, Keith. How is everything else? Outside Alchemist work?”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Um, I don’t know. Seen any good movies? Girlfriend?” I knew this was probably frivolous to my dad. “Are you happy?”

  Keith barely even blinked. “My happiness doesn’t matter. Only the work does. That and continuing to do penance.”

  “For . . . for what? For your moneymaking scheme with Clarence? I mean, it was bad . . . but it could’ve been worse.” I had no idea why I was trying to defend him to himself, but there was just something deeply unsettling about all this talk of souls and penance—especially when I knew the Alchemists’ real problem wasn’t the side effects of Keith’s scheme so much as the fact that he’d simply worked with a Moroi. “And you just said you were better.”

  “Better, but not cured.” The tone of his voice sent chills through me. “Those who collaborate with those creatures for anything but the greater good have a long path to redemption, one I’m ready to walk. I have sinned against my own kind and let my soul become corrupted. I am ready to have the darkness purged.”

  “You sound legitimately sorry,” I said weakly. “I mean, that’s good, right? That’s got to mean something.”

  “I am ready to have the darkness purged,” he repeated. It was hard to say if he knew he was even talking to me. He sounded like he was reciting something. Something he’d recited many, many times, in fact.

  Those who collaborate with those creatures for anything but the greater good have a long path to redemption. The impact of those words wasn’t lost on me. I was doing a lot more than collaborating with Adrian. Was this what I risked? This . . . deadness? The last time I’d seen Keith, he’d been screaming for release from the Alchemists. It had been terrible, yet at the same time, there’d been something real to it. A fight. A fire within him. There was nothing now. Keith had been obnoxious and selfish, but he had also always been outgoing and full of personality—even if it was an annoying one. How did he go from cocky to . . . this? What had to be done to him to strip him of all that he was, to get him to agree to whatever he was told?

  The tattoo, I realized. They must have re-inked him with some pretty serious compulsion. And yet . . . some gut instinct told me there was more. The Alchemist ink could make you obey simple commands and make you susceptible to suggestions. This complete personality reversal? That required greater intervention. I was seeing what had to be a combination of a reinforced tattoo and whatever they did in re-education.

  I was also seeing what my fate might be if caught.

  “Keith,” I managed at last. “How exactly are you purging that darkness?”

  “It’s time to go,” my father suddenly interrupted. “We’re very happy to see you doing well, Keith, and will talk to you later.”

  Keith told us goodbye, and we headed out toward our respective cars. Zoe dared a quick, controlled hug to our dad before getting in Quicksilver. I turned to the driver’s door, but he caught hold of my hand. I didn’t resist because I was still numbed by what I’d just witnessed.

  “Sydney,” he said, eyes cold. “You truly have done outstanding work. I’m glad Zoe’s here to learn from you. She’s headstrong and untried but will eventually learn. And she’s right about one thing—don’t get distracted. Even if it’s just this teacher of yours. There may be a time you can be allowed some recreation. It’d certainly be nice for you to continue talking to that young and upstanding Ian Jansen. But now, even a seemingly innocent social interaction—with a human—is dangerous. You must stay focused on your task. And I know I don’t have to tell you about friendships with the Moroi and dhampirs.”

  “Of course not, sir.” I wanted to gag.

  He gave me what passed for a smile with him and then turned without another word. I drove Zoe back to Amberwood, and awkwardness left over from our earlier spat lingered. As much I’d disliked her selling me out to our dad, I still loved her . . . and couldn’t entirely blame her. He was an intimidating person, one who excelled at making you feel inadequate. I’d had plenty of experience with it.

  “Hey,” I said, noticing we were passing the ice cream place she and I had gone to last week. “You up for some praline pecan?”

  Zoe stared straight ahead without even looking at it. “There’s a lot of fat and sugar in that, Sydney.” Silence fell for a few moments. “Maybe I should stop having driving lessons with Eddie.”

  “Is he a bad teacher? Has he done anything, um, sinister?”

  “No . . .” The conflict in her voice was nearly palpable. “But he’s still one of them. You heard what Dad said . . . what Keith said. No collaboration.”

  “It’s not collaboration. It’s busine
ss,” I said pragmatically. “What if there’s an emergency, and you have to drive? We need you prepared. It’s for the greater good.”

  Her face relaxed. “I suppose you’re right.”

  She was quiet again after that, giving my thoughts ample opportunity to spiral around as I contemplated possible consequences of today’s meal. Maybe my sterling record still kept me untouchable, but Zoe had tattled on some of my other activities. Were my dad’s suspicions raised? It was hard to say, but I would’ve preferred he had no reason to think twice about me.

  And of course, I was still troubled by Keith. His face haunted me. What had they done to him? What had he endured in re-education? And how big a role had re-inking played? Those questions tumbled in my mind over and over, and when we reached the school, I made a decision. It was a difficult one, and one that wouldn’t necessarily solve all my problems. But I had to act. Seeing Keith had driven home the desperation of my situation.

  I had to make the ink. And I had to inject myself with it.

  There was no other way. I had to start making preparations to find out if the ink would protect against Alchemist mental manipulation. One of Marcus’s recruits would’ve been a better guinea pig, but there was no time to get one. Inez had said my magic use might muddle the results, but what else could I do? I had no clean test subject, and doing nothing was unacceptable. If there was a way to prevent others—and myself—from turning into Keith, I had to find it. This was my starting point, and I refused to waste another moment.

  After the dorm’s dinner, when Zoe went off to a study group, I prepared to go to Ms. Terwilliger’s house after first calling her with a very surprising request. Maybe it was dangerous running out on Zoe after the earlier lecture, but I would claim it was a mandatory assignment if she questioned me later. As I was walking toward the student parking lot, I ran into Trey. He looked like he was on his way to work.

  “Yo, Melbourne,” he said, coming to a stop beside me. “I have to ask you something. Angeline’s been hanging out with that dhampir. I just saw them walking off together. Is something going on with them?”