The Golden Lily (Bloodlines, #2)

by Richelle Mead

Adrian wasn’t my responsibility. Yet, I clicked the message anyway. Day 24. Situation is growing worse. My captors continue to find new and horrific ways to torture me. When not working, Agent Scarlet spends her days examining fabric swatches for bridesmaid dresses and going on about how in love she is. This usually causes Agent Boring Borscht to regale us with stories of Russian weddings that are even more boring than his usual ones. My attempts at escape have been thwarted thus far. Also, I am out of cigarettes. Any assistance or tobacco products you can send will be greatly appreciated. —Prisoner 24601 I began smiling in spite of myself. Adrian sent me some kind of message like this nearly every day.

How do you know about 24601? I refuse to believe you read the book. You saw the musical, right? I hit send and received a response back from him almost immediately: SparkNotes. Typical. I laughed out loud and immediately felt guilty.

“She used a knife from the cafeteria,” said Jill helpfully. “Couldn’t find the scissors,” explained Angeline. My bed. Where was my bed?

My family had a cat back in Utah that I was pretty sure was more responsible than Angeline.

“Nice blouse, Sage,” he told me, deadpan. “It really brings out the khaki in your pants.” His sarcasm aside, he looked supremely delighted to see us. He had the tall, lean build that most Moroi guys did, along with their typically pale (though not Strigoi-pale) skin. I hated to admit it, but he was more good-looking than he had any right to be. He wore his dark brown hair stylishly messy and had eyes that sometimes seemed too green to be real. Adrian had on one of those button-up printed shirts that were trendy with guys lately, with a blue pattern on it I liked.

I shrugged. “No reason. Just wondering if you’d put your charisma research on hold and step up for a challenge. If you went twenty-four hours without cigarettes, I’d drink a can of pop. Regular pop. The whole can.” I saw the glimmer of Adrian’s earlier smile returning. “You would not.” “I totally would.” “Half a can would put you into a coma.” Sonya frowned. “Are you diabetic?” she asked me. “No,” said Adrian, “but Sage is convinced one extraneous calorie will make her go from super skinny to just regular skinny. Tragedy.” “Hey,” I said. “You think it’d be a tragedy to go an hour without a cigarette.” “Don’t question my steel resolve, Sage. I went without one for two hours today.” “Show me twenty-four, and then I’ll be impressed.” He gave me a look of mock surprise. “You mean you aren’t already? And here I thought you were dazzled from the moment you met me.”

“Nice attention to detail,” I teased Trey. “I didn’t know you cared.” “Hey, I live to serve,” he said. “Besides, I need your help tonight with that lab write-up from chem. You always find things I miss.”

Brayden met my eyes. His were hazel, almost like Eddie’s but with a little green. Not as much green as Adrian’s, of course. No one’s eyes were that amazingly green.

For some reason, that bothered me. “What, you don’t think any guy would ever be interested in me?” “Actually,” said Adrian, sounding remarkably serious, “I can imagine lots of guys being interested in you.”

I clapped a hand over my mouth, in an attempt to smother my laughter. He reminded me so much of Adrian. I could absolutely see Adrian smuggling in alcohol to an event like this and then going to all sorts of pains to be covert, thinking that if he just did everything slowly enough, no one would catch on to him. Adrian, too, would probably have the misfortune of opening the bottle right in the middle of the play’s most tense scene. I could even picture a similarly delighted look on his face, one that said, No one knows what I’m doing! When, of course, we all knew. I didn’t know why it made me laugh, but it did.

I’d see it outside too. I’d mentioned this odd wardrobe choice to Adrian a couple of weeks ago: “Isn’t Dimitri hot?” Adrian’s response hadn’t been entirely unexpected: “Well, yeah, according to most women, at least.”

What did surprise me was that Adrian was working so hard to act like he didn’t care what his father thought—but he obviously did. Adrian’s face was convincing, but there was a note of bitterness in his voice that gave him away. “Anyway,” Adrian continued, “he said he’d meet me for lunch if I wanted. Normally, I’d blow it off… but I’d kind of like to know what’s going on with my mom—they never tell me when I call or e-mail.” Again, I picked up mixed emotions from him. Adrian’s mother was serving time in a Moroi prison for crimes of intrigue. You wouldn’t know it by his cocky attitude and sense of humor, but it must have been hard on him.

Once again, the bitterness. Maybe a little anger. I studied Adrian for a long time as I thought about my next response. The hall was dim, giving him the advantage. He could probably see me perfectly while some details were more difficult for me. Those green, green eyes I so often admired in spite of myself simply looked dark now. The pain on his face, however, was all too apparent. He hadn’t yet learned to hide his feelings from Jill and the bond, but I knew he kept that lazy, devil-may-care attitude on for the rest of the world—well, for everyone except me lately. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen him vulnerable, and it seemed weird to me that I, of all people, was the one he kept baring his emotions to. Or was it weird? Maybe this was just my social ineptitude confusing me again. Regardless, it pulled at something within me. “Is that really what this is about? The money?” I

My heart ached for him, and I suspected that last part—earning his dad’s approval—was bigger than Adrian was letting on. I knew all about what it was like to have a father who continually judged, whom nothing was ever good enough for. I understood as well the warring emotions… how one day you could say you didn’t care, yet be yearning for approval the next. And I certainly understood motherly attachment. One of the hardest parts of being in Palm Springs was the distance

Auras didn’t weird me out as much as other vampire magic, but I still wasn’t entirely comfortable with them. “What color is mine?” “Yellow, of course.” “Of course?” “Smart, analytic types usually have yellow. You’ve got a little purple here and there, though.” Even in the dimness, I could see a mischievous spark in his eyes. “That’s what makes you interesting.” “What’s purple mean?” Adrian put his hand on the door. “Gotta go, Sage. Don’t want to keep Dorothy waiting.”

All the eyes that had been on me suddenly jerked toward Adrian. He leaned forward, fixing his gaze on Sonya and Dimitri, and I saw something in those pretty eyes I’d never seen before: anger. They were like emerald fire.

blood. I dared a peek at Adrian. He no longer looked angry, but there was still a fierceness there. It was almost… protective. A strange, warm feeling swirled in my chest, and for a brief moment, when I looked at him, I saw… safety. That wasn’t usually the first sentiment I had around him. I shot him what I hoped was a grateful look. He gave me a small nod in return.

How was it that Adrian Ivashkov, who never seemed to take anything seriously, was the only one among these “responsible” people who had paid attention to such small details? How was he the only one to really understand the magnitude of what I was feeling?

Jill, sitting beside me in the passenger seat, had been quiet thus far. With the bond, she might know the answer. “No,” she said, a puzzled note in her voice. “He would have done it for you regardless.”

“You don’t always need experience. I’ve never killed anyone, but I know murder is wrong.”

The bell rang, freeing me. I stood up and gathered my things together. “Sorry, Ms. Terwilliger. I’m flattered that you think I’m such an upstanding person, but I’m already caught up in one epic battle of good versus evil. I don’t need another.”

But Eddie wasn’t Dimitri yet, and I could see the faintest signs of pain and longing.

Instead, he caught hold of my hands and leaned toward me. “You,” he said breathlessly. “Are amazing. Absolutely, positively, exquisitely amazing.” And then he kissed me.

I looked down at our hands and tried to figure out how I felt. He had nice hands. Smooth, warm. I could get used to holding those hands. And of course, he smelled like coffee. Was that enough to build love on? Again, that uncertainty nagged me. What right did I have to any of this? I wasn’t in Palm Springs for my own entertainment. There was no “me” in Alchemy. Well, phonetically there was, but that wasn’t the point. I knew my superiors wouldn’t approve of any of this.

And even though Sonya’s usually the spokesperson for our research, she won’t breathe without checking with him beforehand. ‘What do you think, Dimitri?’ ‘Is this a good idea, Dimitri?’ ‘Please give us your blessing so that we can fall down and worship you, Dimitri.’”

“Look,” I said. “You and Dimitri are two different people. You shouldn’t compare yourself to him. You shouldn’t try to be like him. I mean, I’m not going to sit here and rip him apart or anything. I like Dimitri. He’s smart and dedicated, insanely brave and ferocious. Good in a fight. And he’s just a nice guy.” Adrian scoffed. “You left out dreamy and ruggedly handsome.” “Hey, you’re pretty easy on the eyes too,” I teased, quoting something he’d told me a while ago. He didn’t smile. “And don’t underestimate yourself. You’re smart too, and you can talk yourself out of—and into—anything. You don’t even need magical charisma.” “So far I’m not seeing a lot of difference between me and a carnival con-man.” “Oh, stop,” I said. He could make me laugh even with the most serious of topics. “You know what I mean. And you’re also one of the most fiercely loyal people I know—and caring, no matter how much you pretend otherwise. I see the way you look after Jill. Not many people would’ve traveled across the country to help her. And almost no one would have done what you did to save her life.” Again, Adrian took a while to respond. “But what are loyal and caring really worth?” “To me? Everything.”

He smiled. “I didn’t want to interrupt. You looked happy for a change.” “For a change? I’m happy lots of times.” I knew Adrian well enough to recognize the sign of an incoming snarky comment. At the last second, he changed course, his expression turning serious. “Does that guy—that Brendan guy—” “Brayden.” “Does that Brayden guy make you happy?” I looked at Adrian in surprise. These kinds of questions were almost always a setup from him, but his neutral face made it hard to guess his motives this time. “I guess,” I said at last. “Yeah. I mean, he doesn’t make me unhappy.” That brought Adrian’s smile back. “Red-hot answer if ever there was one. What do you like about him? Aside from the car? And that he smells like coffee?” “I like that he’s smart,” I said. “I like that I don’t have to dumb myself down around him.” Now Adrian frowned. “You do that a lot for people?” I was surprised at the bitterness in my own laugh. “‘A lot?’ Try all the time.

Adrian did a double take. “That’s it, isn’t it?” He leaned toward me, and I nearly moved back… but something held me where I was, something about the intensity in his eyes. “What?” I asked. He pointed at me. “You stopped yourself just now. You just dumbed it down for me.” I hesitated only a moment. “Yeah, I kind of did.” “Why?” “Because you really don’t want to hear about ancient Athens, any more than you wanted to hear Brayden talk about Chaos Theory.” “That’s different,” said Adrian. He hadn’t moved away and was still standing so, so close to me. It seemed like that should’ve bothered me, but it didn’t. “He’s boring. You make learning fun. Like a children’s book or after school special. Tell me about your… um, Athenian women.” I tried not to smile. I admired his intentions here but knew he really wasn’t up for a history lesson. Again, I wondered what game was going on. Why was he pretending to be interested? I tried to compose an answer that would take less than sixty seconds. “Most Athenian women weren’t educated. They mostly stayed inside and were just expected to have kids and take care of the house. The most progressive women were the hetaerae. They were like entertainers and high-class prostitutes. They were educated and a little flashier. Powerful men kept their wives at home to raise children and then hung out with hetaerae for fun.” I paused, unsure if he’d followed any of that. “Like I said, it’s not really important.” “I don’t know,” said Adrian thoughtfully. “...

speaking anyway. “Adrian’s in college,” I said. “Taking art classes. He’s very talented.” Adrian shot me a questioning—but amused—look at that. Some of his pieces were quite good. Others—especially when he’d been drinking—looked like he’d accidentally spilled paint on canvas. I’d helpfully told him so on a number of occasions. Nathan looked unimpressed. “Yes. He’s done that before. It didn’t last.” “Different time, different place,” I said. “Things can change. People can change.”

Adrian sneered and took a sip of his new martini. “There we are again: you knowing what’s best for everyone. You know, I’d really, really like to think you’re keeping this avoidance attitude with her because it hurts too much. I know that if the woman I loved was locked away, I’d be doing everything in my power to reach her. For you? Maybe it’s too hard. Maybe the only way you can cope without her is to block her out—and by keeping me away too. I could almost understand that.” “Adrian—” began Nathan. “But that’s not it, is it? You don’t want me to have contact—and you probably aren’t having contact—because you’re embarrassed.” Adrian was really getting worked up now. “You want to distance us and pretend what she did doesn’t exist. You want to pretend that she doesn’t exist. She’s ruined the family reputation.”

“What, screw up?” Adrian demanded. “We all screw up. Everyone makes mistakes. That’s what she did. It was bad judgment, that’s all. You don’t cut off the people you love for mistakes like that.”

“Mr. Ivashkov,” I began, despite every reasonable voice in my head screaming at me to shut up. “It’s unfair to blame Adrian for her choices, especially when he didn’t even realize what she was doing. I know he would do anything for her. If he’d been able to stop this—or take her place—he would have.”

“You’re sure of that, huh?” Nathan was piling his plate with food and seemed quite excited about it. Neither Adrian nor I had an appetite. “Well, Miss Sage, I’m sorry to shatter your illusions, but it seems you—like so many other young women—have been fooled by my son’s fast-talking ways. I can assure you, he has never done anything that didn’t serve his own interests first. He has no initiative, no ambition, no follow-through. From a very early age, he was constantly breaking rules, never listening to what others had to say if it didn’t suit what he wanted. I’m not really surprised his college attempts have failed—and I assure you, this one will too—because he barely made it out of high school. It wasn’t even about the drinking, the girls, and the stunts he pulled… he just didn’t care. He ignored his work. It was only through our influence and checkbook that he managed to graduate. Since then, it’s been a constant downward spiral.” Adrian looked like he’d been slapped. I wanted to reach out and comfort him, but even I was still in shock from Nathan’s words. Adrian clearly was too. It was one thing to go on and on about how you thought your father was disappointed in you. It was an entirely different thing to hear your father explain it in excruciating detail. I knew because I had been in both situations. “Honestly, I don’t even mind the drinking so much, so long as it knocks him out and keeps him quiet,” continued Nathan, through a mouth full of goat cheese. “You think hi...

“I don’t want anything from you,” I said. “Unless it’s an apology to Adrian.” Nathan gave me another blank look. He seemed sincerely confused. “What do I have to apologize for?” I left.

“You’d think it’d be that I didn’t get the money or that he just ripped my life apart or that he has no faith in me sticking to college. But that’s okay. I’m used to that from him. What really bothers me is that I really did ruin my mom’s life.” “I can’t imagine you did,” I said, shocked at his words. “Like you pointed out, we still love people who make mistakes. I’m sure she loves you too. Anyway, that’s something you need to discuss with her—not him.” He nodded. “The other thing that bothered me… well, he said all that in front of you.” That was a shock too. I brushed it off, feeling a little flustered that he would think so much of my opinion. Why should he care? “Don’t worry about me. I’ve been with much more abrasive people than him.” “No, no… I mean…” Adrian looked at me and then quickly averted his eyes. “After what he said about me, I can’t stand the thought that you might think less of me.”

I was so surprised that I couldn’t muster a response right away. When I did, I just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Of course I don’t.” He still wouldn’t look at me, apparently not believing my words. “Adrian.” I laid my hand over his and felt a warm spark of connection. He jerked his head toward me in astonishment. “Nothing he said could change what I think of you. I’ve had my mind made up about you for a long time… and it’s all good.” Adrian looked away from me and down to where my hand covered his. I blushed and pulled away. “Sorry.” I’d probably freaked him out. He glanced back up at me. “Best thing that’s happened to me all day. Let’s hit the road.”

Then, I thought back to that brief moment by the car, and Adrian’s fleeting look of contentment, followed later by: God, those are awesome. I think I needed that. A brief moment of peace in the midst of his dark despair. That was what I had wanted, and that was what I had gotten. Was it worth it? I rubbed my fingertips together, still feeling that warmth. Yes, I decided. Yes, it was worth it.

Still, that conversation stuck with me, and I spent the day asking myself: what could I do to make Adrian happier? A new father obviously wasn’t possible. I would have tried that on myself years ago if I could.

Dimitri looked thoughtful. “Oh, she’d do it. She’s always had a soft spot for him. Everyone seems to.” “No,” I said stubbornly. “Not everyone. There’s a split. Half condemn him and write him off as useless like his dad. The other half just shrug and indulge him and say, ‘Well, that’s Adrian.’” Sonya studied me carefully, a trace of that amusement returning. “And you?” “I don’t think he should be babied or disregarded. If you expect him to do great things, he will.”

“There was no choice to be made,” I countered. We crossed onto a busier street, full of brightly lit stores with water misters outside that were meant to cool off hot shoppers. I winced at what that mist was doing to my hair. “I had to help. He didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. I can’t imagine how Adrian’s put up with that his whole life. And would you believe that what worried Adrian the most was that I would think less of him?” “Actually,” said Sonya softly, “I can very much believe that.”

There was amusement in his voice. “Don’t I know it. You can change a tire in ten minutes while speaking Greek.”

His eyes were sympathetic. “Then learn. That same person who likes giving me advice once told me not to be a victim. So don’t be. You’ve learned how to do a million other things. Learn this. Take a self-defense class. Get a gun. You can’t be a guardian, but that’s not the only way to protect yourself.”

The ghost of a smile flickered across his lips. “You’re always the voice of reason. Just try listening to yourself once in a while.”

I had just set down my phone when another text message buzzed. Unexpectedly, it was from Adrian. How r u feeling after last night? Been worried about u. Adrian was articulate in e-mail but often resorted to abbreviations in texts—something I could never bring myself to do. Even reading it was like listening to nails on a chalkboard for me, yet something touched me about his concern, that he was worried about my well-being. It was soothing.

“Yeah, well. You can’t take painting classes and not paint, Sage.” “I thought you’d stopped those too.” He gave me a sidelong glance. “Nearly did. But then I remembered I’d convinced some girl that if she gave me a chance and got me into those classes, I’d follow through on them. That’ll teach me.”

The new mom raised her hand. “You used nunchucks on a moose?”

Wolfe got a haunted look in his eyes. “I used all sorts of things on that bastard. But that’s neither here nor now. Because here’s the thing. With a little common sense, you won’t need weapons. Or fists. You.”

“Thank God,” said Adrian, when we broke out to practice. He and I were partners. “I thought I’d come to a fight class to learn how not to fight.”

This made me feel a little arrogant, enough so that when Adrian turned his back to get a water bottle, I sneaked up from behind and flung my arms around him, pinning his arms in turn.

“Nothing,” he said gruffly. For a moment his eyes locked onto me with an intensity that left me breathless.