Frostbite (Vampire Academy, #2)

by Richelle Mead

I crossed my arms over my chest as some vaguely European-sounding band sang about how video had killed the radio star. I wished someone would kill this radio.

“Belikov is a sick, evil man who should be thrown into a pit of rabid vipers for the great offense he committed against you this morning.”

“Oh, Roza . . .” He sighed, and I felt a thrill tickle me. “Roza” was my name in Russian. He rarely used it. “You express yourself more than anyone else I know.”

Mason’s was a lot like when you walk into a church and fall to your knees in awe and fear of something you worship but don’t really understand.

“Rose Hathaway, I can’t wait to see you again. If you’re this charming while tired and annoyed and this gorgeous while bruised and in ski clothes, you must be devastating at your peak.”

I steeled myself for the next response. I knew it was going to be one of the Zen life lessons. Something about inner strength and perseverance, about how the choices we made today were templates for the future or some other nonsense. Instead he kissed me.

“I’ll see you later, Roza.” “At our next practice?” I asked. “We are starting those up again, right? I mean, you still have things to teach me.” Standing in the doorway, he looked over at me and smiled. “Yes. Lots of things.”