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“Cards like this refer to specific people,” Rhonda told me. The Queen of Swords looked very imperious, with auburn hair and silver robes. “The Queen of Swords is clever. She thrives on knowledge, can outwit her enemies, and is ambitious.” I sighed. “But upside down . . .” “Upside down,” said Rhonda, “all of those traits get twisted. She’s still smart, still trying to get her way . . . but she’s doing it through insincere ways. There’s a lot of hostility and deception here. I’d say you have an enemy.”
“The nine is being trapped. Unable to get out of a situation. It can also mean slander or accusation. Summoning courage to escape something.”
“A journey,” she said. “I was just on a journey. A few of them.” I eyed her suspiciously. “Man, this isn’t, like, some kind of a spiritual journey is it?” Ambrose laughed again. “Rose, I wish you’d get tarot readings every day.” Rhonda ignored him. “If it were in cups, maybe. But swords are tangible. Action. A true, out-and-about journey.”
“This last one . . .” Her eyebrows knitted into a frown at the fifth card. “This is hidden from me.”
“Usually I have a clear vision. . . . The cards speak to me in how they connect. This one’s not clear.”
“It can be either,” Rhonda said. “It’s the lowest in rank of the cards that represent people in each suit: King, Queen, Knight, and then Page. Whoever the page is, it’s someone trustworthy and creative. Optimistic. It could mean someone who goes on the journey with you—or maybe the reason for your journey.”
“But I just can’t tell. . . . There’s a cloud around it. Why? It doesn’t make sense.” Something about her confusion sent a chill down my spine.
I scanned the cards. Heartache. An enemy. Accusations. Entrapment. Travel.
“There must have been a reason. You don’t know her like I do. She wouldn’t want this kind of thing.”
Rose, you’re going to want to see this. But you have to promise not to cause any trouble. Lissa flashed a location to me, along with a sense of urgency.
It’s about Dimitri.
This was an interrogation, an investigation to determine what Dimitri was exactly.
Then he astonished them all. Drawing his hand back, he held out the bottom of his muscled forearm toward Hans. With the sunny weather, Dimitri was wearing a T-shirt, leaving the skin there bare. “Cut me with it,” he told Hans.
do,” I said, striding toward them. No, Rose, begged Lissa. Dimitri wore an equally displeased look.
“When you used to be Strigoi,” I began, making it clear that I believed that was in the past, “you were very well connected. You knew about the whereabouts of lots of Strigoi in Russia and the U.S., right?” Dimitri eyed me carefully, trying to figure out where I was going. “Yes.” “Do you still know them?” Lissa frowned. She thought I was going to inadvertently implicate Dimitri as still being in contact with other Strigoi. “Yes,” he said. “So long as none of them have moved.” The answer came more swiftly this time. I wasn’t sure if he’d guessed my tactic or if he just trusted that my
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protests were cut off by a feminine scream. A small Moroi boy, no more than six, had suddenly broken from the crowd and run toward us. It was his mother who had screamed. I moved in to stop him, grabbing his arm. I wasn’t afraid that Dimitri would hurt him, only that the boy’s mother would have a heart attack. She came forward, face grateful. “I have questions,” the boy, obviously trying to be brave, said in a small voice.
And then, being Rose Hathaway, I said something I really shouldn’t have to the boy. “You should go punch him and find out.”
Beyond her, I noticed a Moroi man standing near some trees. His eyes occasionally fell on us, and I could have sworn I’d seen him before.
“It’s true. This will blow over, and there might even be a chance for you to be assigned to Vasilisa.”
He handed over a tote bag. I looked inside and found a laptop, some cords, and several pieces of paper. I stared up at him in disbelief.
His face clicked. I’d seen him back at St. Vladimir’s, around the time of my graduation—always hovering in the background. I groaned, suddenly understanding the secretive nature—and cocky attitude. “You work for Abe.”
Rose, I hope Tad was able to get this to you in a timely manner. And I hope you weren’t too mean to him. I’m doing this on behalf of someone who wants to speak to you about an urgent matter. However, it’s a conversation that no one else must hear. The laptop and satellite modem in this bag will allow you to have a private discussion, so long as you’re in a private location. I’ve included step-by-step instructions on how to configure it. Your meeting will take place at 7 a.m.
At exactly seven, the window came to life, and a familiar—but unexpected—face appeared. “Sydney?” I asked in surprise.
“Oh, well. Abe, um, kind of did me a favor. He made it happen.”
“What did you give him in return? Your soul?”
“That’s the thing,” she said. “It was kind of an ‘I’ll let you know when I need a favor in the future’ arrangement.”
“The Alchemists had some records stolen recently,” she explained. She was all business-serious now. “And everyone’s going crazy trying to figure out who did it—and why.”
“Because of what was stolen. It was information about a Moroi named Eric Dragomir.”
“Financial records.” She frowned. “Particularly about some large deposits he made to a bank account in Las Vegas. Deposits he went out of his way to cover up.”
“So, Eric had an account in Vegas he was moving money into?” “It wasn’t his. It was some woman’s.” “What woman?” “No one—well, no one we can track. She was just down as ‘Jane Doe.’”
That guy at the Witching Hour had said Lissa’s dad was there a lot. Now Sydney’s records reported that he’d made large deposits into an account in Las Vegas. Coincidence? Maybe. But as time went on, I was starting not to believe in coincidences anymore.
“No,” he interrupted again. “Ever since Dimitri came back . . . no, scratch that. Ever since you became obsessed with changing him, you’ve been torn over me. No matter what’s happened between us, you’ve never really given yourself over to our relationship. I wanted to believe what you told me. I thought you were ready . . . but you weren’t.”
A weird flashback to my time with Mason popped into my head. I’d led the same double life with him, and he’d died for it.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, comrade,” I murmured back. “Just came for the good of my soul, that’s all.”
“Don’t you think that if God can supposedly forgive you, it’s kind of egotistical for you not to forgive yourself?” “How long have you been waiting to use that line on me?” he asked. “Actually, it just came to me. Pretty good, huh? I bet you thought I wasn’t paying attention.” “You weren’t. You never do. You were watching me.”
A strange, haunted look crossed his face. “How do you know? Maybe the monster didn’t leave. Maybe there’s still something Strigoi lurking in me.” “Then you need to defeat it by moving on with your life! And not just through your chivalrous pledge to protect Lissa. You need to live again. You need to open yourself up to people who love you. No Strigoi would do that. That’s how you’ll save yourself.”
“I want you to stay away from me,” he said, ignoring my comment. “I don’t want you to keep trying to bring back feelings that are gone. That’s the past. None of that’s going to happen again. Not ever. It’s better for us if we act like strangers. It’s better for you.”
But he did nothing. Nothing except stare at me with a look that made my blood run cold. Like I was something strange and bad. “Rose. Please stop. Please stay away.” He was working hard to stay calm.
“I’ve given up on you,” he said back, voice also soft. “Love fades. Mine has.”
I was suddenly afraid that she—or someone else—might come seeking me in my room. So I decided to leave. I had no real destination; I just had to keep moving.
“And then my dad overheard us, and he was like, ‘He was probably funding some mistress. You’re right—he was a nice guy. But he liked to flirt. And he liked the ladies.’”
Huge life changes made from small, careless actions.
He came screeching to a halt when I tossed my hair out of the way and offered my neck to him.
Some tiny part of me said that even though I’d wanted this and cared about Adrian, the whole act had been wrong. I hadn’t done it for the right reasons, instead letting myself get carried away by my own grief and confusion.
This was the way Dimitri was supposed to be: powerful and in charge. I was glad and yet . . . seeing him the way I loved only made my heart feel that much worse. He was lost to me.
“You need to come with us right now,” one of the queen’s guards said. “If you resist, we’ll take you by force.” “Leave him alone!” I yelled, looking from face to face. That angry darkness exploded within me. How could they still not believe? Why were they still coming after him? “He hasn’t done anything! Why can’t you guys accept that he’s really a dhampir now?” The man who’d spoken arched an eyebrow. “I wasn’t talking to him.” “You’re . . . you’re here for me?” I
Dimitri. “Don’t touch her,” he growled. There was a note in his voice that would have scared me if it had been directed toward me. He shoved me behind him, putting his body protectively in front of mine with my back to the table. Guardians came at us from all directions, and Dimitri began dispatching them with the same deadly grace that had once made people call him a god.
“Stay back,” he ordered me. “They aren’t laying a hand on you.”
“Stop!” I suddenly yelled. “I’ll come! I’ll come with you!”
“Stop.” This time, my voice was a whisper. An uneasy silence had fallen over everyone. “Don’t fight them anymore. I’m going to go with them.” “No. I won’t let them take you.” “You have to,” I begged.
