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"This is Joe. Joe's the janitor who helped me out by testifying that I wasn't with Rose when Aunt Tatiana was murdered. The one who was working in Rose's building."
"I really should go. Just tell Lady Ivashkov that I came by—and that I'm leaving Court. But that everything's set." "What's set?" asked Lissa, slowly standing up. "She—she'll know."
"I just . . . I just . . . I don't remember the time . . . I don't remember any of the times. That's what I told the other guy, too. She paid me to put a time on when you were there."
"The Keepers,"
was on the verge of saying that I didn't think this was how anyone should truly be living. Then, remembering the casual way these people had spoken about fights to the death, I decided to keep my views to myself.
Moroi having sex with a dhampir? Racy. A Moroi having sex with a dhampir and drinking blood? Dirty and humiliating. A Moroi having sex with a human—with or without blood drinking? Incomprehensible.
It was Robert Doru's. And Victor Dashkov was with him.
"You can't," he said bluntly. "You've got to take it on faith that the enemy of your enemy is your friend."
"My brother is a good man, shadow-girl! If you hurt him . . . if you hurt him, you'll pay. And next time you won't come back. The world of the dead won't give you up a second time."
Victor smiled. "By running Vasilisa as a candidate for queen."
"Actually, the law says she can. According to the way the nomination policy is written, one person from each royal line may run for the monarch position. That's all it says. One person from each line may run. There is no mention of how many people need to be in her family, as there is for her to vote on the Council. She simply needs three nominations—and the law doesn't specify which family they come from."
"When voting comes, she won't be eligible. She has no family to fulfill the role required at the actual election. In other words, the law says she can run and take the tests. Yet, people can't actually vote for her because she has no family."
I let my body relax and felt the tug of true sleep start to take me down. Emphasis on start. Because suddenly, I felt another spirit dream materializing around me. Apparently, this was going to be a busy night.
"You know, as much as I like the idea of having someone always know when you're in trouble, I'm still kind of glad I don't have anyone bound to me. Not sure I'd want them looking in my head."
Dimitri laughed at whatever expression crossed my face. "I always love seeing what worries you. Strigoi? No. Questionable food? Yes."
"You'll be alive," he pointed out. "That's what matters. Enjoy what you have, every little detail of wherever you are. Don't focus on where you aren't."
"You don't need me to be wise, Rose. You're doing fine on your own. Yes, that was part of it. Maybe I would have been welcomed back eventually, but there was the risk I wouldn't. After . . . after being Strigoi . . ." He stumbled over the words a little. "I gained a new appreciation for life. It took a while. I'm still not there. We're talking about focusing on the present, not the future—but it's my past that haunts me. Faces. Nightmares. But the farther I get from that world of death, the more I want to embrace life. The smell of these books and the perfume you wear. The way the light bends
...more
The old account was still a Jane Doe, but it did have a next-of-kin reference in the event something happened to the account holder." I could hardly breathe. Financial transactions were lost on me, but we were about to get something solid. "A real name?" Sydney nodded. "Sonya Karp."
Dimitri turned away from me and stared out the window. His brown eyes filled with sorrow, his thoughts momentarily far away from us. I didn't entirely understand what was happening, but that peaceful moment in the library—where Dimitri had smiled and shared in the daydream of an ordinary life—had vanished. And not just the moment. That Dimitri had vanished. He was back in his fierce mode, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders again. At last, he sighed and looked back at me. "That's because Mikhail didn't have the right connections."
"Boris?" asked Dimitri. That was all I understood because the rest was a string of rapid Russian. A strange sensation spread over me as he spoke. I was confused, lost because of the language . . . but there was more than that. I felt chilled. My pulse raced with fear. That voice . . . I knew that voice. It was his voice and yet not his voice. It was the voice of my nightmares, a voice of coldness and cruelty. Dimitri was playing Strigoi.
"You can stay if you want," he said. "The other Tainted would never find you here. We could get married, and then when we had kids, we could build a loft like my parents' and—"
Dimitri had sprung to action the instant he saw me in danger. I expected him to come pull Angeline away, but a group of Keepers hastily moved to his side, saying something to him that I couldn't hear. They didn't try to physically restrain him, but whatever they said, it kept him where he stood.
Why was Dimitri letting this go on? Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of him, and so help me, he was smiling.
"Fine," she said. "I guess it's okay. Go ahead." "Huh? What's okay?" I demanded. "It's okay if you marry my brother."
"Stop that," I chastised. Dimitri leaned against one of the room's walls, arms crossed, watching as I rubbed where Angeline had hit my cheekbone. It was hardly the worst injury I'd ever had, but I'd definitely have a bruise tomorrow. There was a small smile on his face. "I told you not to encourage him," came Dimitri's calm response.
"Not publicly," agreed Ambrose. "Not even privately. Only a few people knew. She was having a small group of Moroi trained in secret—men and women, different ages. She wanted to see how well Moroi could learn. If it was possible for them to defend themselves. But she knew people'd be upset about it, so she made the group and their trainer keep quiet."
"Grant." Christian and Lissa exchanged startled looks. "My Grant?" she asked. "The one Tatiana assigned to me?" Ambrose nodded. "That's why she gave him to you. She trusted him."
"Everyone's been all over me about her death," said Ambrose, "but nobody questioned Blake very long." "Blake?" asked Lissa. "Blake Lazar. Someone else she was . . ." "Involved with?" suggested Christian, rolling his eyes.
Tatiana's murder could have been a crime of passion, rather than anything political. Like Abe had said, someone with access to her bedroom was a likely suspect. And some woman jealous over sharing a lover with Tatiana? That was perhaps the most convincing motive thus far—if only we knew the women.
"I want you to and will help if I can. But I'm telling you, look for someone with political motives. Not romantic ones."
Ambrose might be convinced the murder was free of jealousy and sex, but she wasn't.
"Boris gave me the name of a Strigoi who knows Sonya and probably knows where she is," Dimitri said. "It's actually someone I've met. But phone calls only go so far with Strigoi. There's no way to contact him—except to go in person. Boris only had his address."
"If we leave right now, we can reach him before morning." I glanced around. "Tough choice. Leave all this for electricity and plumbing?" Now Sydney grinned. "And no more marriage proposals." "And we'll probably have to fight Strigoi," added Dimitri. I jumped to my feet. "How soon can we go?"
Angeline's response, however, was totally unexpected. "Take me with you," she said, grabbing a hold of my arm, just as I started down the forest path toward the car.
"Please. It's not just the Strigoi! I want to see the world. I need to see something else outside of this place!" Her voice was pitched low, out of the range of the others. "I've only been to Rubysville twice, and they say that's nothing compared to other cities."
"I nominate Princess Vasilisa Dragomir."
When the real voting did come, I hoped Ariana would win the crown. She was intelligent and fair—exactly what the Moroi needed.
"Because we know there's someone out there who isn't afraid to kill to get what they want," said Tasha. She nodded toward Eddie and my mom. "These two and Mikhail are really the only guardians we can trust." "Are you sure?" Abe gave Tasha a sly look. "I'm surprised you didn't get your special guardian ‘friend' on board." "What special friend?" demanded Christian, instantly picking up on the insinuation. Tasha, to my astonishment, flushed. "Just a guy I know." "Who follows you with puppy-dog eyes," continued Abe. "What's his name? Evan?" "Ethan," she corrected.
It would fade, like always, yet some part of me knew I couldn't keep taking that darkness from Lissa forever. I wouldn't always be able to control it.
"Lure him out. Send in a ‘customer' with a message from me needing to meet him. I'm not the kind of person he can ignore—well, that he used to not—never mind. Once he's out, we get him to a place we choose."
My job was to protect the innocent from evil—not thrust them into the middle of it.
I hadn't hesitated once in the battle I'd just fought, but now, I paused at what I saw. Dimitri's face. It was . . . terrifying. Ferocious. He'd had a similar look when he'd defended me at my arrest—that badass warrior god expression that said he could take on hell itself. The way he looked now . . . well, it took that fierceness to a whole new level. This was personal, I realized. Fighting these Strigoi wasn't just about finding Sonya and helping Lissa. This was about redemption, an attempt to destroy his past by destroying the evil directly in his path.
Still trying to hold Donovan with one arm, I smacked Dimitri in the face with my other hand—going for the side I hadn't punched the other night. I don't think he felt the pain in his adrenaline rage, but the hit got his attention. "Don't kill him!" I repeated.
I saw something on Donovan's face that I'd never seen in a Strigoi before: fear.
Dimitri pulled his stake out—and then stabbed Donovan again. And again. I stared in disbelief and horror, frozen for a few moments. Then, I grabbed Dimitri's arm and began shaking him, though I felt like I would have had more effect shaking the building behind me. "He's dead, Dimitri! He's dead! Stop this. Please." Dimitri's face still wore that terrible, terrible expression—rage, now marked with a bit of desperation. Desperation that told him if he could only obliterate Donovan, then maybe he could obliterate everything else bad in his life.
tugged gently on his arm. "It's over. You've done enough." "It's never enough, Roza," he whispered. The grief in his voice killed me. "It'll never be enough."
"You're the only one." He clung more tightly to me. "The only one who understands. The only one who saw how I was. I could never explain it to anyone . . . you're the only one. The only one I can tell this to . . ."
"No. You have to destroy Strigoi because they're evil. Because that's what we do. If you want the nightmares to go away, you have to live. That's the only way. We could have died just now. We didn't. Maybe we'll die tomorrow. I don't know. What matters is that we're alive now."
The old Dimitri wasn't gone. He was just locked away, and I didn't know how to let him out.
"Remember what you said earlier?" I asked. "Back in Rubysville? Living is in the details. You've got to appreciate the details. That's the only way to defeat what the Strigoi did to you. The only way to bring back who you really are. You said it yourself: you escaped with me to feel the world again. Its beauty."
