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Fan Forum Star
Joined: Dec 2005
Posts: 240,742
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Here we go..
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"WHY SO GLUM, LITTLE DHAMPIR?" I was heading across the quad, toward the commons, when I detected the scent of clove cigarettes. I sighed. "Adrian, you are the last person I want to see right now." Adrian Ivashkov hurried up beside me, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air that of course drifted right toward me. I waved it off and made a great show of exaggerated coughing. Adrian was a royal Moroi we'd "acquired" on our recent ski trip. He was a few years older than me and had come back to St. Vladimir's to work on learning spirit with Lissa. So far, he was the only other spirit user we knew of. He was arrogant and spoiled and spent a lot of his time indulging in cigarettes, alcohol, and women. He also had a crush on me—or at least wanted to get me into bed.
"Apparently," he said. "I've hardly seen you at all since we got back. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were avoiding me."
"I am avoiding you."
He exhaled loudly and raked a hand through the sable brown hair he always kept stylishly messy. "Look, Rose. You don't have to keep up with the hard-to-get thing. You've already got me."
Adrian knew perfectly well I wasn't playing hard-to-get, but he always took a particular delight in teasing me. "I'm really not in the mood for your so-called charm today."
"What happened, then? You're stomping through every puddle you can find and look like you're going to punch the first person you see."
"Why are you hanging around, then? Aren't you worried about getting hit?"
"Aw, you'd never hurt me. My face is too pretty."
"Not pretty enough to make up for the gross, carcinogenic smoke blowing in my face. How can you do that? Smoking's not allowed on campus. Abby Badica got two weeks' detention when she got caught."
"I'm above the rules, Rose. I'm neither student nor staff, merely a free spirit wandering your fair school as I will."
"Maybe you should go do some wandering now."
"You want to get rid of me, you tell me what's going on."
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"Have I mentioned your aura to you?" he asked suddenly. There was a strange note to his voice.
Hesitant. Curious. It was very uncharacteristic. Everything he usually said was mocking.
"I don't know. Yeah, once. You said it was dark or something. Why?" Auras were fields of light that surrounded every person. Their colors and brightness were allegedly linked to a person's personality and energy. Only spirit users could see them. Adrian had been doing it for as long as he could remember, but Lissa was still learning.
"Hard to explain. Maybe it's nothing." He came to a stop near the door and inhaled deeply on his cigarette. He went out of his way to blow a cloud of smoke away from me, but the wind carried it back. "Auras are strange. They ebb and flow and change colors and brightness. Some are vivid, some are pale. Every once in a while, someone's will settle and burn with such a pure color that you can…" He tipped his head back, staring into the sky. I recognized the signs of that weird "unhinged" state he sometimes fell into. "You can instantly grasp what it means. It's like seeing into their soul."
I smiled. "But you haven't figured mine out, huh? Or what any of these colors mean?"
He shrugged. "I'm figuring it out. You talk to enough people, get a feel for what they're like and then start to see the same kinds of people with the same kinds of colors…. After a while, the colors start to mean something."
"What's mine look like right now?"
He glanced over at me. "Eh, I can't quite get a fix on it today."
"I knew it. You've been drinking." Substances, like alcohol or certain medications, numbed spirit's effects.
"Just enough to chase the chill away. I can guess what your aura's like, though. It's usually like the others, sort of those swirling colors—it's just kind of edged in darkness. Like you've always got a shadow following you."
Something in his voice made me shiver. Although I'd heard him and Lissa talk about auras a lot, I'd never really thought of them as anything I needed to worry about. They were more like some kind of stage trick—a cool thing with little substance.
"That's so cheerful," I said. "You ever think about motivational speaking?"
His scattered look faded, and his normal mirth returned. "Don't worry, little dhampir. You might be surrounded by clouds, but you'll always be like sunshine to me." I rolled my eyes. He dropped his cigarette onto the sidewalk and put it out with his foot. "Gotta go. See you later."
He swept me a gallant bow and started walking away toward guest housing.
"You just littered!" I yelled.
"Above the rules, Rose," he called back. "Above the rules."
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Adrian moved around me, going over to stand beside Camille. She and I were pressed close together, but he managed to squeeze in so that his face was in my line of sight, almost beside hers. He wore that goofy smirk he normally had, but there was something serious in his dark green eyes.
"Yes, little dhampir. Let her go. You're done here."
I wanted to tell Adrian to get away from me, that I would be the one to say when this was finished. Somehow, I couldn't get the words out. A part of me was enraged at his interference.
The other part of me thought he sounded…reasonable.
"Let her go," he repeated.
My eyes were all over Adrian now, not Camille. Suddenly, all of me decided he sounded reasonable. Completely reasonable. I needed to let her go. I moved my arm and stepped away.
With a gulp, Camille darted behind Ryan, using him like a shield. I saw now that she was on the verge of tears. Ryan simply looked stunned.
Adrian straightened up and made a dismissive gesture toward Ryan. "I'd get out of here—before you really annoy Rose."
Ryan, Camille, and the others slowly backed off from us. Adrian put his arm around me and hurried me away toward the library. I felt weird, kind of like I was waking up, but then, with each step, things grew clearer and clearer. I pushed his arm off me and jerked away.
"You just used compulsion on me!" I exclaimed. "You made me let her go."
"Someone needed to. You looked like you were seconds away from strangling her."
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"Where are you?" I called. "I know you're here."
Adrian stepped around from behind an apple tree that was thick with pink and white flowers.
He wore jeans—something I'd never seen him in before. They looked good and were undoubtedly a designer brand. A dark green cotton T-shirt— also very simple—covered his upper body, and the sunlight brought out highlights of gold and chestnut in his brown hair.
"I told you to stay out of my dreams," I said, putting my hands on my hips.
He gave me his lazy smile. "But how else are we supposed to talk? You didn't seem very friendly earlier."
"Maybe if you didn't use compulsion on people, you'd have more friends."
"I had to save you from yourself. Your aura was like a storm cloud."
"Okay, for once, can we please not talk about auras and my impending doom?"
The look in his eyes told me he was actually really interested in that, but he let it go. "Okay. We can talk about other things."
"But I don't want to talk at all! I want to sleep."
"You are sleeping." Adrian smiled and walked over to study a flowering vine that was winding up a post. It had orange and yellow flowers shaped like trumpets. He gently ran his fingers over one of the flowers' edges. "This was my grandmother's garden."
"Great," I said, making myself comfortable against the apple tree. It looked like we could be here for a while. "Now I get to hear your family history."
"Hey she was a cool lady."
"I'm sure she was. Can I go yet?"
His eyes were still on the vine's blossoms. "You shouldn't knock Moroi family trees. You don't know anything about your father. For all you know, we could be related."
"Would that mean you'd leave me alone?"
Strolling back over to me, he switched subjects as though there'd been no interruption. "Nah, don't worry. I think we come from different trees. Isn't your dad some Turkish guy anyway?"
"Yeah, according to my— Hey, are you staring at my chest?"
He was studying me closely, but his eyes were no longer on my face. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared.
"I'm staring at your shirt," he said. "The color is all wrong."
Reaching out, he touched the strap. Like ink spreading across paper, the ivory fabric turned the same shade of rich indigo as the vine's blossoms. He narrowed his eyes like an expert artist studying his work.
"How'd you do that?" I exclaimed.
"It's my dream. Hmm. You're not a blue person. Well, at least not in the color sense. Let's try this." The blue lit up into a brilliant crimson. "Yes, that's it. Red's your color. Red like a rose, like a sweet, sweet Rose."
"Oh man," I said. "I didn't know you could kick into crazy mode even in dreams." He never got as dark and depressed as Lissa had last year, but spirit definitely made him weird sometimes.
He stepped back and threw his arms out. "I'm always crazy around you, Rose. Here, I'm going to write an impromptu poem for you." He tipped his head back and shouted to the sky:
"Rose is in red
But never in blue
Sharp as a thorn
Fights like one too."
Adrian dropped his arms and looked at me expectantly.
"How can a thorn fight?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Art doesn't have to make sense, little dhampir. Besides, I'm supposed to be crazy, right?"
"Not the craziest I've ever seen."
"Well," he said, pacing over to study some hydrangeas, "I'll work on that."
I started to ask again about when I could go "back" to sleep, but our exchange brought something to my mind.
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"Adrian … how do you know if you're crazy or not?"
He turned from the flowers, a smile on his face. I could tell he was about to make a joke, but then he looked at me more closely. The smile faded, and he turned unusually serious.
"Do you think you're crazy?" he asked.
"I don't know," I said, looking down at the ground. I was barefoot, and sharp blades of grass tickled my feet. "I've been … seeing things."
"People who are crazy rarely question whether they're crazy," he said wisely.
I sighed and looked back up at him. "That doesn't really help me."
He walked back over to me and rested a hand on my shoulder. "I don't think you're crazy, Rose.
I think you've been through a lot, though."
I frowned. "What's that mean?"
"It means I don't think you're crazy."
"Thanks. That clears things up. You know, these dreams are really starting to bug me."
"Lissa doesn't mind them," he said.
"You visit hers too? Do you seriously have no boundaries?"
"Nah, hers are instructional. She wants to learn how to do this."
"Great. So I'm just the lucky one who gets to put up with your sexual harassment."
He actually looked hurt. "I really wish you wouldn't act like I'm evil incarnate."
"Sorry. I just haven't had much reason to believe you can do anything useful."
"Right. As opposed to your cradle-robbing mentor. I don't really see you making much progress with him."
I took a step back and narrowed my eyes. "Leave Dimitri out of this."
"I will when you stop acting like he's perfect. Correct me if I'm wrong, but he's one of the people who hid the trial from you, right?"
I looked away. "That's not important right now. Besides, he had his reasons."
"Yeah, which apparently didn't involve being open with you or fighting to get you there.
Whereas me…" He shrugged. "I could get you into the trial."
"You?" I asked with a harsh laugh. "How are you going to pull that off? Have a smoke break with the judge? Use compulsion on the queen and half the royals at court?"
"You shouldn't be so quick to slam people who can help you. Just wait." He placed a light kiss on my forehead that I tried to wiggle away from. "But for now, go get some rest."
The garden faded, and I fell back into the normal blackness of sleep.
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"We're going to Court," Adrian said. "Aren't you excited about it?"
I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. "About which one? The royal one or the legal one?"
"The royal one. Did you bring a dress?"
"Nobody told me to."
"So … that's a 'no.'"
"Yes."
"Yes? I thought you meant no."
I opened one eye and glared. "I did mean no, and you know it. No, I did not bring a dress."
"We'll get you one," he said loftily.
"You're going to take me shopping? I'm going to go out on a limb and guess they won't consider you a reliable chaperone."
"Shopping? As if. There are tailors that live there. We'll get you something custom-made."
"We're not staying that long. And do I really need a dress for what we're doing there?"
"No, I'd just kind of like to see you in one."
I sighed and leaned my head against the window. The pain in my skull was still throbbing. It was like the air was pressing in on me. Something flashed in my peripheral vision, and I turned in surprise, but there was nothing but stars outside the window.
"Something black," he continued. "Satin, I think… maybe with lace trim. Do you like lace?
Some women think it itches."
"Adrian." It was like a hammer, a hammer inside and outside my head.
"You could get a nice velvet trim too, though. That wouldn't itch."
"Adrian." Even my eye sockets seemed to hurt.
"And then a slit up the side to show off what great legs you have. It could go nearly to the hip and have this cute little bow—"
"Adrian!" Something inside of me burst. "Will you shut the hell up for five seconds?" I yelled so loud that the pilot had probably heard me. Adrian had that rare look of astonishment on his face.
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I went outside, hoping a gulp of cold air would calm me down. Instead, I got a face full of clove smoke.
"Don't start in about the smoking," warned Adrian. He was leaning against the building's brick wall. "You didn't have to come outside. You knew I was here."
"That's actually why I'm here. Well, that, and I felt like I was going to go crazy if I stayed inside another minute."
He tilted his head to look at my face. His eyebrows shot up. "You aren't kidding, are you? What happened? You were fine a few minutes ago."
I paced across the ground in front of him. "I don't know. I was fine. Then Christian and Lissa started having this stupid argument over you. It was weird. They were the ones who were mad—and then I ended up madder than both of them."
"Wait. They were arguing over me?"
"Yes. I just said that. Weren't you paying attention?"
"Hey, don't snap at me. I haven't done anything to you."
I crossed my arms over my chest. "Christian's jealous because you hang around Lissa so much."
"We're studying spirit," said Adrian. "He's welcome to join in."
"Yeah, well, no one ever said love was reasonable. Seeing you come back together kind of set him off. And then he got upset because you pulled rank with the queen for Lissa."
"I didn't do it for her. I did it for all of you—but, well, you especially."
I came to a halt in front of him. "I didn't believe you. That you could do it."
He grinned. "Guess you should have listened to my family history in that dream after all."
"I guess. I just thought…"
I couldn't finish. I'd thought Dimitri would be the one who came through for me, the one who—despite what he said— could make almost anything happen. But he hadn't.
"Thought what?" Adrian prompted.
"Nothing." With much effort, I managed to utter the next words. "Thank you for helping us."
"Oh my God," he said. "A kind word from Rose Hathaway. I can die a happy man."
"What are you saying? That I'm normally an ungrateful bitch?"
He just looked at me.
"Hey! Not cool."
"Maybe you could redeem yourself with a hug."
I glared.
"A small one?" he begged.
With a sigh, I walked over and put one arm around Adrian, leaning my head lightly against his arm. "Thanks, Adrian."
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"You okay, little dhampir?" he asked softly. "Dashkov said a few … uh … suggestive things."
I stepped closer, keeping my voice low as well. "No one believed him. I think it's okay. Thanks for asking, though."
He smiled and tapped my nose. "Two thank-yous in as many days. I don't suppose I'll get to see any, uh, special gratitude?"
I scoffed. "Nope. You'll just have to imagine it."
He gave me a half-hug and released me. "Fair enough. But I have a good imagination."
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"What do you think, little dhampir?" he asked. "I was pretty badass with that plant, wasn't I? Of course, it would have been more badass if I'd, I dunno, helped an amputee grow a limb back. Or maybe separated Siamese twins. But that'll come with more practice."
"If you want some advice—which I'm sure you don't— you guys should lay off on the magic.
Christian still thinks you're moving in on Lissa."
"What?" he asked in mock astonishment. "Doesn't he know my heart belongs to you?"
"It does not. And no, he's still worried about it, despite what I've told him."
"You know, I bet if we started making out right now, it would make him feel better."
"If you touch me," I said pleasantly, "I'll provide you with the opportunity to see if you can heal yourself. Then we'd see how badass you really are."
"I'd get Lissa to heal me," he said smugly. "It'd be easy for her. Although…" The sardonic smirk faded. "Something weird happened when she used her magic."
"Yeah," I said. "I know. Could you sense it too?"
"No. But I saw it." He frowned. "Rose … remember when you asked about being crazy and I said you weren't?"
"Yeah…"
"I think I might have been wrong. I think you are crazy."
I nearly stopped walking. "What the hell does that mean?"
"Well…you see, the thing is, when Lissa did the second plant… her aura dimmed a little."
"That would go along with what I felt," I said. "It was kind of like she … I don't know, grew mentally fragile for a moment, kind of like she used to. But it went away."
He nodded. "Yeah, that's the thing…the darkness in her aura went away and into yours. Like, I've noticed before that you guys have a big difference in auras, but this time, I saw it happening. It was like that spot of darkness jumped out of hers and into yours."
Something about that made me shiver. "What does it mean?"
"Well, this is why I think you're crazy. Lissa isn't having any side effects from the magic anymore, right? And you, well… you've been feeling kind of short-tempered lately and you're, like, seeing ghosts." He said the words casually, like seeing ghosts was just something that happened from time to time. "I think whatever harmful thing there is in spirit that screws with the mind is leaking out of her and into you. It's making her stay stable, and you, well… as I said, you're seeing ghosts."
It was like being smacked in the face. A new theory. Not trauma. Not real ghosts. Me
"catching" Lissa's madness. I remembered how she'd been at her worst, depressed and self-destructive. I remembered our former teacher, Ms. Karp, who'd also been a spirit user—and completely out of her mind enough to become Strigoi.
"No," I said in a strained voice. "That's not happening to me."
"What about your bond? You have that connection. Her thoughts and feelings creep into you …
why not the madness too?" Adrian's manner was typically light and curious. He didn't realize just how much this was starting to freak me out.
"Because it doesn't make any—"
And then, it hit me. The answer we'd been searching for this whole time.
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"Rose!"
I looked to my right and saw Adrian cutting across the lawn toward me, oblivious to the slush's effects on his designer shoes.
"Did you just call me 'Rose'?" I asked. "And not 'little dhampir'? I don't think that's ever happened."
"It happens all the time," he countered, catching up to me.
We stepped inside the commons. School was in session, so the halls were empty.
"Where's your better half?" he asked.
"Christian?"
"No, Lissa. You can tell where she is, right?"
"Yeah, I can tell because it's last period, and she's in class like everyone else. You keep forgetting that for the rest of us, this is a school."
He looked disappointed. "I found more case files I wanted to talk to her about. More super-compulsion stuff."
"Whoa, you've been doing something productive? I'm impressed."
"You're one to talk," he said. "Especially considering your whole existence here revolves around beating people up. You dhampirs are uncivilized—but then, that's why we love you."
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"Actually," I mused, "we aren't the only ones doing beatings lately." I'd nearly forgotten about my royal fight club mystery. There were so many things I had to worry about lately. It was like trying to hold water in my hands. It was a long shot, but I had to ask him. "Does the word Mână
mean anything to you?"
He leaned against the wall and reached for his cigarettes. "Sure."
"You're inside the school," I warned.
"What—oh, right." With a sigh, he put the pack back in his coat. "Don't half of you study Romanian here? It means 'hand.'"
"I study English here." Hand. That didn't make any sense.
"Why the interest in translation?"
"I don't know. I think I got it wrong. I thought it had some connection to this thing that's been going on with these royals."
Recognition flashed in his eyes. "Oh Lord. Not that. Are they really doing it here too?"
"Doing what?"
"The Mână. The Hand. It's this stupid secret society that pops up at schools. We had a chapter of it back at Alder. It's mostly a bunch of royals getting together and having secret meetings to talk about how much better they are than everyone else."
"That's it then," I said. The pieces clicked together. "That's Jesse and Ralf's little group—the one they tried to get Christian to join. That's what this Mână is."
"Him?" Adrian laughed. "They must have been desperate—and I don't mean that as a slam against Christian. He's just not really the type to get into that kind of thing."
"Yeah, well, he turned them down pretty hard. What's the point of this secret society exactly?"
He shrugged. "The same as any other. It's a way to make people feel better about themselves.
Everyone likes feeling special. Being part of an elite group is a way to do that."
"But you weren't part of it?"
"No need. I already know I'm special."
"Jesse and Ralf made it sound like royals had to stick together because of all the controversies that are going on— about fighting and guardians and all that. They made it sound like they could do something about it."
"Not at this age," said Adrian. "Mostly all they can do is talk. When they get older, Mână
members sometimes cut deals for each other and still have secret meetings."
"That's it then? They're just hanging out and talking to hear themselves talk?"
He turned contemplative. "Well, yes, of course they're doing lots of that. But I mean, whenever these little chapters form, there's usually something specific they want to do in secret. Each group's kind of different that way, so this one's probably got some plan or scheme or whatever."
A plan or scheme. I didn't like the sound of that. Especially with Jesse and Ralf.
"You know a lot for someone who wasn't in it."
"My dad was. He never talks much about it—hence the secret part—but I picked up things, and then I heard about it while I was at school."
I leaned against the wall. The clock across the hall told me classes were almost over. "Did you hear anything about them beating up people? There are at least four Moroi I know of who were attacked. And they won't talk about it."
"Who? Like non-royals?"
"No. Other royals."
"That doesn't make any sense. The whole point of it is for elite royals to band together to protect themselves from change. Unless, perhaps, they're going after royals who refuse or are supporting non-royals."
"Maybe. But one of them was Jesse's brother, and Jesse seems to be a founding member. Seems like he'd have to make the cut. And they didn't do anything when Christian refused."
Adrian spread his hands wide. "Even I don't know everything, and like I said, this one's probably got its own little agenda they're keeping hidden." I sighed in frustration, and he gave me a curious look. "Why do you care so much?"
"Because it isn't right. The people I saw were in bad shape. If some group's going around and ganging up on victims, they need to be stopped,"
Adrian laughed and played with a strand of my hair. "You can't save everyone, though God knows you try."
"I just want to do what's right." I remembered Dimitri's comments about Westerns and couldn't help a small smile. "I need to bring justice where it's needed."
"The crazy thing, little dhampir, is that you mean that. I can tell by your aura."
"What, are you saying it's not black anymore?"
"No…still dark, definitely. But it's got a little light in it, streaks of gold. Like sunlight."
"Maybe your theory about me catching it from Lissa is wrong then." I'd been trying very hard not to think about last night, when I'd learned about Anna. Mentioning it now stirred up all those fears all over again. Insanity. Suicide.
"Depends," he said. "When was the last time you saw her?"
I gave him a light punch. "You have no clue, do you? You're making this up as you go along."
He caught my wrist and pulled me closer. "Isn't that the way you normally operate?"
I grinned in spite of myself. This close to him I could appreciate just how lovely the green of his eyes was. In fact, despite continually making fun of him, I couldn't deny that the rest of him was pretty good-looking too. His fingers were warm on my wrist, and there was something kind of sexy about the way he held it. Thinking back to Deirdre's words, I tried to assess how it all made me feel. The queen's warnings aside, Adrian was a guy who was technically available.
Was I attracted to him? Did I get a thrill out of this?
The answer: no. Not in the same way I did with Dimitri. Adrian was sexy in his way, but he didn't drive me wild the way Dimitri did. Was it because Adrian was so readily available? Was Deirdre right about me purposely wanting relationships that were impossible?
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"You know," he said, interrupting my thoughts, "under any other circumstances, this would be hot. Instead, you're looking at me like I'm some kind of science fair project."
That was exactly how I was treating this, actually. "Why don't you ever use compulsion on me?" I asked. "And I don't mean just to stop me from getting in fights."
"Because half the fun of you is that you're so difficult."
A new idea occurred to me. "Do it."
"Do what?"
"Use compulsion on me."
"What?" It was another of those rare shocked Adrian moments.
"Use compulsion to make me want to kiss you—except you have to promise not to actually kiss me."
"That's pretty weird—and when I say something's weird, you know it's serious."
"Please."
He sighed and then focused his eyes right on me. It was like drowning, drowning in seas of green. There was nothing in the world except for those eyes.
"I want to kiss you, Rose," he said softly. "And I want you to want me too."
Every aspect of his body—his lips, his hands, his scent— suddenly overpowered me. I felt warm all over. I wanted him to kiss me with every ounce of my being. There was nothing in life I wanted more than that kiss. I tilted my face up toward his, and he leaned down. I could practically taste his lips.
"Do you want to?" he asked, voice still like velvet. "Do you want to kiss me?"
Did I ever. Everything around me had blurred. Only his lips were in focus.
"Yes," I said. His face moved closer, his mouth only a breath away from mine. We were so, so close, and then—
He stopped. "We're done," he said, stepping back.
I snapped out of it instantly. The dreamy haze was gone, as was the yearning in my body. But I'd discovered something. Under compulsion, I had definitely wanted him to kiss me. Yet even under compulsion, it hadn't been the electric, all-encompassing feeling I had when I was with Dimitri, that feeling that we were practically the same person and were bound by forces bigger than both of us. With Adrian, it had simply been mechanical.
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"Little dhampir," he said, stepping aside. "Come in."
I did, and was nearly overwhelmed by the smell of alcohol as I passed him. The Academy's guest housing was nice, but he clearly hadn't done much to keep his suite clean. I had a feeling he'd probably been drinking nonstop since the attack. The TV was on, and a small table by the couch held a half-empty bottle of vodka. I picked it up and read the label. It was in Russian.
"Bad time?" I asked, setting it back down.
"Never a bad time for you," he told me gallantly. His face looked haggard. He was still as good-looking as ever, but there were dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't been sleeping well. He waved me toward an armchair and sat down on the couch. "Haven't seen much of you."
I leaned back. "I haven't wanted to be seen," I admitted.
I'd hardly spoken to anyone since the attack. I'd spent a lot of time by myself or with Lissa. I took comfort from being around her, but we hadn't said much. She understood that I needed to process things and had simply been there for me, not pushing me on things I didn't want to talk about—even though there were a dozen things she wanted to ask.
The Academy's dead had been honored in one group memorial service, although their families had made arrangements for each person's respective funeral. I'd gone to the larger service. The chapel had been packed, with standing room only. Father Andrew had read the names of the dead, listing Dimitri and Molly among them. No one was talking about what had really happened to them. There was too much other grief anyway. We were drowning in it. No one even knew how the Academy would pick up the pieces and start running again.
"You look worse than I do," I told Adrian. "I didn't think that was possible."
He brought the bottle to his lips and took a long drink. "Nah, you always look good. As for me
… well, it's hard to explain. The auras are getting to me. There's so much sorrow around here.
You can't even begin to understand. It radiates from everyone on a spiritual level. It's overwhelming. It makes your dark aura downright cheerful."
"Is that why you're drinking?"
"Yup. It's shut my aura-vision right off, thankfully, so I can't give you a report today." He offered me the bottle, and I shook my head. He shrugged and took another drink. "So what can I do for you, Rose? I have a feeling you aren't here to check on me."
He was right, and I only felt a little bad about what I was here for. I'd done a lot of thinking this last week. Processing my grief for Mason had been hard. In fact, I hadn't even really quite resolved it when the ghost business had started. Now I had to mourn all over again. After all, more than Dimitri had been lost. Teachers had died, guardians and Moroi alike. None of my close friends had died, but people I knew from classes had. They'd been students at the Academy as long as I had, and it was weird to think I'd never see them again. That was a lot of loss to deal with, a lot of people to say goodbye to.
But… Dimitri. He was a different case. After all, how did you say goodbye to someone who wasn't exactly gone? That was the problem.
"I need money," I told Adrian, not bothering with pretense.
He arched an eyebrow. "Unexpected. From you, at least. I get that kind of request a lot from others. Pray tell, what would I be funding?"
I glanced away from him, focusing on the television. It was a commercial for some kind of deodorant.
"I'm leaving the Academy," I said finally.
"Also unexpected. You're only a few months out from graduation."
I met his eyes. "It doesn't matter. I have things to do now."
"I never figured you'd be one of the dropout guardians. You going to join the blood whores?"
"No," I said. "Of course not."
"Don't act so offended. That's not an unreasonable assumption. If you're not going to be a guardian, what else are you going to do?"
"I told you. I have things I have to take care of."
He arched an eyebrow. "Things that are going to get you into trouble?"
I shrugged. He laughed.
"Stupid question, huh? Everything you do gets you in trouble." He propped his elbow up on the couch's arm and rested his chin in his hand. "Why'd you come to me for money?"
"Because you have it."
This also made him laugh. "And why do you think I'll give it to you?"
I didn't say anything. I just looked at him, forcing as much womanly charm as I could into my expression. His smile went away, and his green eyes narrowed in frustration. He jerked his gaze away.
"Damn it, Rose. Don't do that. Not now. You're playing on how I feel about you. That's not fair." He gulped more vodka.
He was right. I'd come to him because I thought I could use his crush to get what I wanted. It was low, but I had no choice. Getting up, I moved over and sat beside him. I held his hand.
"Please, Adrian," I said. "Please help me. You're the only one I can go to."
"That's not fair," he repeated, slurring his words a little. "You're using those come-hither eyes on me, but it's not me you want. It's never been me. It's always been Belikov, and God only knows what you'll do now that he's gone."
He was right about that too. "Will you help me?" I asked, still playing up the charisma. "You're the only one I could talk to … the only one who really understands me…."
"Are you coming back?" he countered.
"Eventually."
Tipping his head back, he exhaled a heavy breath. His hair, which I'd always thought looked stylishly messy, simply looked messy today. "Maybe it's for the best if you leave. Maybe you'll get over him faster if you go away for a while. Wouldn't hurt to be away from Lissa's aura either. It might slow yours from darkening—stop this rage you always seem to be in. You need to be happier. And stop seeing ghosts."
My seduction faltered for a moment. "Lissa isn't why I'm seeing ghosts. Well, she is, but not in the way you think. I see the ghosts because I'm shadow-kissed. I'm tied to the world of the dead, and the more I kill, the stronger that connection becomes. It's why I see the dead and why I feel weird when Strigoi are near. I can sense them now. They're tied to that world too."
He frowned. "You're saying the auras mean nothing? That you aren't taking away the effects of spirit?"
"No. That's happening too. That's why this has all been so confusing. I thought there was just one thing going on, but there've been two. I see the ghosts because of being shadow-kissed. I'm getting… upset and angry… bad, even… because I'm taking away Lissa's dark side. That's why my aura's darkening, why I'm getting so enraged lately. Right now, it just sort of plays out as a really bad temper…." I frowned, thinking of the night Dimitri had stopped me from going after Jesse. "But I don't know what it'll turn into next."
Adrian sighed. "Why is everything so complicated with you?"
"Will you help me? Please, Adrian?" I ran my fingers along his hand. "Please help me."
Low, low. This was so low of me, but it didn't matter. Only Dimitri did.
Finally, Adrian looked back at me. For the first time ever, he looked vulnerable. "When you come back, will you give me a fair shot?"
I hid my surprise. "What do you mean?"
"It's like I said. You've never wanted me, never even considered me. The flowers, the flirting …
it rolled right off you. You were so gone for him, and nobody noticed. If you go do your thing, will you take me seriously? Will you give me a chance when you return?"
I stared. I definitely hadn't expected this. My initial instinct was to say no, that I could never love anybody again, that my heart had been shattered along with that piece of my soul that Dimitri held. But Adrian was looking at me so earnestly, and there was none of his joking nature. He meant what he said, and I realized all the affection for me he'd always teased about hadn't been a joke either. Lissa had been right about his feelings.
"Will you?" he repeated.
"Of course." Not an honest answer, but a necessary one.
Adrian looked away and drank more vodka. There wasn't much left. "When are you leaving?"
"Tomorrow."
Setting the bottle down, he stood up and walked off into the bedroom. He returned with a large stack of cash. I wondered if he kept it under his bed or something. He handed it to me wordlessly and then picked up the phone and made some calls. The sun was up, and the human world, which handled most Moroi money, was also up and awake.
I tried to watch TV while he talked, but I couldn't concentrate. I kept wanting to scratch the back of my neck. Because there was no way of knowing exactly how many Strigoi I and the others had killed, we'd all been given a different kind of tattoo instead of the usual set of molnija marks. I'd forgotten its name, but this tattoo looked like a little star. It meant that the bearer had been in a battle and killed many Strigoi.
When he finally finished his calls, Adrian handed me a piece of paper. It had the name and address of a bank in Missoula.
"Go there," he said. "I'm guessing you have to go to Missoula first anyway if you're actually going on to anywhere civilized. There's an account set up for you with … a lot of money in it.
Talk to them, and they'll finish the paperwork with you."
I stood up and stuffed the bills in my jacket. "Thank you," I said.
Without hesitating, I reached out and hugged him. The scent of vodka was overpowering, but I felt I owed him. I was taking advantage of his feelings for me in order to further my own devices. He put his arms around me and held me for several seconds before letting go. I brushed my lips against his cheek as we broke apart, and I thought he might stop breathing.
"I won't forget this," I murmured in his ear.
"I don't suppose you'll tell me where you're going?" he asked.
"No," I said. "I'm sorry."
"Just keep your promise and come back."
"I didn't actually use the word promise," I pointed out.
He smiled and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "You're right. I'm going to miss you, little dhampir. Be careful. If you ever need anything, let me know. I'll be waiting for you."
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