Vampire Academy-3 (Shadow Kiss)

One
HIS FINGERTIPS SLID ALONG my back, applying
hardly any pressure, yet sending shock waves over my flesh.
Slowly, slowly, his hands moved across my skin, down the sides
of my stomach to finally rest in the curves of my hips. Just
below my ear, I felt his lips press against my neck, followed by
another kiss just below it, then another, then another. …
His lips moved from my neck toward my cheek and then
finally found my mouth. We kissed, wrapping ourselves closer
together. My blood burned within me, and I felt more alive in
that moment than I ever had. I loved him, loved Christian so
much that—
Christian?
Oh no.
Some coherent part of me immediately realized what was
happening—and boy, was it pissed off. The rest of me, however,
was still actually living in this encounter, experiencing it as
though I was the one being touched and kissed. That part of me
couldn't break away. I'd merged too much with Lissa, and for all
intents and purposes, this was happening to me.
No, I told myself sternly. It's not real—not for you. Get out
of there.
But how could I listen to logic when every nerve of my
body was being set on fire?
You aren't her. This isn't your head. Get out.

His lips. There was nothing in the world right now except
his lips.
It's not him. Get out.
The kisses were the same, exactly as I remembered with
him. …
No, it's not Dimitri. Get out!
Dimitri's name was like cold water hitting me in the face. I
got out.
I sat upright in my bed, suddenly feeling smothered. I tried
kicking off the covers but mostly ended up entangling my legs
even more. My heart beat hard in my chest, and I tried to take
deep breaths to steady myself and return to my own reality.
Times sure had changed. A long time ago, Lissa's
nightmares used to wake me from sleep. Now her sex life did.
To say the two were a little different would be an
understatement. I'd actually gotten the hang of blocking out her
romantic interludes—at least when I was awake. This time,
Lissa and Christian had (unintentionally) outsmarted me. In
sleep, my defenses were down, allowing strong emotions to pass
through the psychic link that connected me to my best friend.
This wouldn't have been a problem if the two of them had been
in bed like normal people—and by "being in bed," I mean
"asleep."
"God," I muttered, sitting up and swinging my legs over
the side of the bed. My voice was muffled in a yawn. Couldn't
Lissa and Christian have seriously kept their hands off each
other until waking hours?
Worse than being woken up, though, was the way I still
felt. Sure, none of that making out had actually happened to me.
It hadn't been my skin being touched or my lips being kissed.
Yet my body seemed to feel the loss of it nonetheless. It had
been a very long time since I'd been in that kind of situation. I
ached and felt warm all over. It was idiotic, but suddenly,
desperately, I wanted someone to touch me—even just to hold
me. But definitely not Christian. The memory of those lips on
mine flashed back through my mind, how they'd felt, and how
my sleepy self had been so certain it was Dimitri kissing me.
I stood up on shaky legs, feeling restless and … well, sad.
Sad and empty. Needing to walk off my weird mood, I put on a
robe and slippers and left my room for the bathroom down the
hall. I splashed cool water on my face and stared in the mirror.
The reflection looking back at me had tangled hair and
bloodshot eyes. I looked sleep-deprived, but I didn't want to go
back to bed. I didn't want to risk falling asleep quite yet. I
needed something to wake me up and shake away what I'd seen.
I left the bathroom and turned toward the stairwell, my feet
light on the steps as I went downstairs. The first floor of my
dorm was still and quiet. It was almost noon—the middle of the
night for vampires, since they ran on a nocturnal schedule.
Lurking near the edge of a doorway, I scanned the lobby. It was
empty, save for the yawning Moroi man sitting at the front desk.
He leafed halfheartedly through a magazine, held to
consciousness only by the finest of threads. He came to the
magazine's end and yawned again. Turning in his revolving
chair, he tossed the magazine on a table behind him and reached
for what must have been something else to read.
While his back was turned, I darted past him toward the
set of double doors that opened outside. Praying the doors
wouldn't squeak, I carefully opened one a crack, just enough to
slip through. Once outside, I eased the door shut as gently as
possible. No noise. At most, the guy would feel a draft. Feeling
like a ninja, I stepped out into the light of day.
Cold wind blasted me in the face, but it was exactly what I
needed. Leafless tree branches swayed in that wind, clawing at
the sides of the stone dorm like fingernails. The sun peeped at
me from between lead-colored clouds, further reminding me that
I should be in bed and asleep. Squinting at the light, I tugged my
robe tighter and walked around the side of the building, toward a
spot between it and the gym that wasn't quite so exposed to the
elements. The slush on the sidewalk soaked into the cloth of my
slippers, but I didn't care.
Yeah, it was a typically miserable winter day in Montana,
but that was the point. The crisp air did a lot to wake me up and
chase off the remnants of the virtual love scene. Plus, it kept me
firmly in my own head. Focusing on the cold in my body was
better than remembering what it had felt like to have Christian's
hands on me. Standing there, staring off at a cluster of trees
without really seeing them, I was surprised to feel a spark of
anger at Lissa and Christian. It must be nice, I thought bitterly,
to do whatever the hell you wanted. Lissa had often commented
that she wished she could feel my mind and experiences the way
I could feel hers. The truth was, she had no idea how lucky she
was. She had no idea what it was like to have someone else's
thoughts intruding on yours, someone else's experiences
muddling yours. She didn't know what it was like to live with
someone else's perfect love life when your own was nonexistent.
She didn't understand what it was like to be filled with a love so
strong that it made your chest ache—a love you could only feel
and not express. Keeping love buried was a lot like keeping
anger pent up, I'd learned. It just ate you up inside until you
wanted to scream or kick something.
No, Lissa didn't understand any of that. She didn't have to.
She could carry on with her own romantic affairs, with no
regard for what she was doing to me.
I noticed then that I was breathing heavily again, this time
with rage. The icky feeling I'd felt over Lissa and Christian's
late-night hookup was gone. It had been replaced by anger and
jealousy, feelings born of what I couldn't have and what came so
easily to her. I tried my best to swallow those emotions back; I
didn't want to feel that way toward my best friend.
"Are you sleepwalking?" a voice asked behind me.
I spun around, startled. Dimitri stood there watching me,
looking both amused and curious. It would figure that while I
was raging over the problems in my unfair love life, the source
of those problems would be the one to find me. I hadn't heard
him approach at all. So much for my ninja skills. And honestly,
would it have killed me to pick up a brush before I went
outside? Hastily, I ran a hand through my long hair, knowing it
was a little too late. It probably looked like an animal had died
on top of my head.
"I was testing dorm security," I said. "It sucks."
A hint of a smile played over his lips. The cold was really
starting to seep into me now, and I couldn't help but notice how
warm his long leather coat looked. I wouldn't have minded
wrapping up in it.
As though reading my mind, he said, "You must be
freezing. Do you want my coat?"
I shook my head, deciding not to mention that I couldn't
feel my feet. "I'm fine. What are you doing out here? Are you
testing security too?"
"I am security. This is my watch." Shifts of school
guardians always patrolled the grounds while everyone else
slept. Strigoi, the undead vampires who stalked living Moroi
vampires like Lissa, didn't come out in sunlight, but students
breaking rules—say, like, sneaking out of their dorms—were a
problem night and day.
"Well, good work," I said. "I'm glad I was able to help test
your awesome skills. I should be going now."
"Rose—" Dimitri's hand caught my arm, and despite all
the wind and chill and slush, a flash of heat shot through me. He
released me with a start, as though he too had been burned.
"What are you really doing out here?"
He was using the stop fooling around voice, so I gave him
as truthful an answer as I could. "I had a bad dream. I wanted
some air."
"And so you just rushed out. Breaking the rules didn't even
cross your mind—and neither did putting on a coat."
"Yeah," I said. "That pretty much sums it up."
"Rose, Rose." This time it was his exasperated voice. "You
never change. Always jumping in without thinking."
"That's not true," I protested. "I've changed a lot."
The amusement on his face suddenly faded, his expression
growing troubled. He studied me for several moments.
Sometimes I felt as though those eyes could see right into my
soul. "You're right. You have changed."
He didn't seem very happy about the admission. He was
probably thinking about what had happened almost three weeks
ago, when some friends and I had gotten ourselves captured by
Strigoi. It was only through sheer luck that we'd managed to
escape—and not all of us had gotten out. Mason, a good friend
and a guy who'd been crazy about me, had been killed, and part
of me would never forgive myself for it, even though I'd killed
his murderers.
It had given me a darker outlook on life. Well, it had given
everyone here at St. Vladimir's Academy a darker outlook, but
me especially. Others had begun to notice the difference in me. I
didn't like to see Dimitri concerned, though, so I played off his
observation with a joke.
"Well, don't worry. My birthday's coming up. As soon as
I'm eighteen, I'll be an adult, right? I'm sure I'll wake up that
morning and be all mature and stuff."
As I'd hoped, his frown softened into a small smile. "Yes,
I'm sure. What is it, about a month?"
"Thirty-one days," I announced primly.
"Not that you're counting."
I shrugged, and he laughed.
"I suppose you've made a birthday list too. Ten pages?
Single-spaced? Ranked by order of priority?" The smile was still
on his face. It was one of the relaxed, genuinely amused ones
that were so rare to him.
I started to make another joke, but the image of Lissa and
Christian flared into my mind again. That sad and empty feeling
in my stomach returned. Anything I might have wanted— new
clothes, an iPod, whatever—suddenly seemed trivial. What did
material things like that mean compared to the one thing I
wanted most of all? God, I really had changed.
"No," I said in a small voice. "No list."
He tilted his head to better look at me, making some of his
shoulder-length hair blow into his face. His hair was brown, like
mine, but not nearly as dark. Mine looked black at times. He
brushed the unruly strands aside, only to have them immediately
blow back into his face. "I can't believe you don't want anything.
It's going to be a boring birthday."
Freedom, I thought. That was the only gift I longed for.
Freedom to make my own choices. Freedom to love who I
wanted.
"It doesn't matter," I said instead.
"What do you—" He stopped. He understood. He always
did. It was part of why we connected like we did, in spite of the
seven-year gap in our ages. We'd fallen for each other last fall
when he'd been my combat instructor. As things heated up
between us, we'd found we had more things to worry about than
just age. We were both going to be protecting Lissa when she
graduated, and we couldn't let our feelings for each other
distract us when she was our priority.
Of course, that was easier said than done because I didn't
think our feelings for each other were ever really going to go
away. We'd both had moments of weakness, moments that led to
stolen kisses or saying things we really shouldn't have. After I'd
escaped the Strigoi, Dimitri had told me he loved me and had
pretty much admitted he could never be with anyone else
because of that. Yet, it had also become clear that we still
couldn't be together either, and we had both slipped back into
our old roles of keeping away from each other and pretending
that our relationship was strictly professional.
In a not-so-obvious attempt to change the subject, he said,
"You can deny it all you want, but I know you're freezing. Let's
go inside. I'll take you in through the back."
I couldn't help feeling a little surprised. Dimitri was rarely
one to avoid uncomfortable subjects. In fact, he was notorious
for pushing me into conversations about topics I didn't want to
deal with. But talking about our dysfunctional, star-crossed
relationship? That was a place he apparently didn't want to go
today. Yeah. Things were definitely changing.
"I think you're the one who's cold," I teased, as we walked
around the side of the dorm where novice guardians lived.
"Shouldn't you be all tough and stuff, since you're from
Siberia?"
"I don't think Siberia's exactly what you imagine."
"I imagine it as an arctic wasteland," I said truthfully.
"Then it's definitely not what you imagine."
"Do you miss it?" I asked, glancing back to where he
walked behind me. It was something I'd never considered
before. In my mind, everyone would want to live in the U.S. Or,
well, they at least wouldn't want to live in Siberia.
"All the time," he said, his voice a little wistful.
"Sometimes I wish—"
"Belikov!"
A voice was carried on the wind from behind us. Dimitri
muttered something, and then shoved me further around the
corner I'd just rounded. "Stay out of sight."
I ducked down behind a bank of holly trees that flanked
the building. They didn't have any berries, but the thick clusters
of sharp, pointed leaves scratched where my skin was exposed.
Considering the freezing temperature and possible discovery of
my late-night walk, a few scratches were the least of my
problems right now.
"You're not on watch," I heard Dimitri say several
moments later.
"No, but I needed to talk to you." I recognized the voice. It
belonged to Alberta, captain of the Academy's guardians. "It'll
just take a minute. We need to shuffle some of the watches
while you're at the trial."
"I figured," he said. There was a funny, almost
uncomfortable note in his voice. "It's going to put a strain on
everyone else—bad timing."
"Yes, well, the queen runs on her own schedule." Alberta
sounded frustrated, and I tried to figure out what was going on.
"Celeste will take your watches, and she and Emil will divide up
your training times."
Training times? Dimitri wouldn't be conducting any
trainings next week because— Ah. That was it, I realized. The
field experience. Tomorrow kicked off six weeks of hands-on
practice for us novices. We'd have no classes and would get to
protect Moroi night and day while the adults tested us. The
"training times" must be when Dimitri would be out
participating in that. But what was this trial she'd mentioned?
Did they mean like the final trials we had to undergo at the end
of the school year?
"They say they don't mind the extra work," continued
Alberta, "but I was wondering if you could even things out and
take some of their shifts before you leave?"
"Absolutely," he said, words still short and stiff.
"Thanks. I think that'll help." She sighed. "I wish I knew
how long this trial was going to be. I don't want to be away that
long. You'd think it'd be a done deal with Dashkov, but now I
hear the queen's getting cold feet about imprisoning a major
royal."
I stiffened. The chill running through me now had nothing
to do with the winter day. Dashkov?
"I'm sure they'll do the right thing," said Dimitri. I realized
at that moment why he wasn't saying much. This wasn't
something I was supposed to hear.
"I hope so. And I hope it'll only take a few days, like they
claim. Look, it's miserable out here. Would you mind coming
into the office for a second to look at the schedule?"
"Sure," he said. "Let me check on something first."
"All right. See you soon."
Silence fell, and I had to assume Alberta was walking
away. Sure enough, Dimitri rounded the corner and stood in
front of the holly. I shot up from my hiding spot. The look on
his face told me he already knew what was coming.
"Rose—"
"Dashkov?" I exclaimed, trying to keep my voice low so
Alberta wouldn't hear. "As in Victor Dashkov?"
He didn't bother denying it. "Yes. Victor Dashkov."
"And you guys were talking about…Do you mean…" I
was so startled, so dumbstruck, that I could barely get my
thoughts together. This was unbelievable. "I thought he was
locked up! Are you saying he hasn't been on trial yet?"
Yes. This was definitely unbelievable. Victor Dashkov.
The guy who'd stalked Lissa and tortured her mind and body in
order to control her powers. Every Moroi could use magic in
one of the four elements: earth, air, water, or fire. Lissa,
however, worked an almost unheard of fifth element called
spirit. She could heal anything—including the dead. It was the
reason I was now psychically linked to her—"shadow-kissed,"
some called it. She'd brought me back from the car accident that
had killed her parents and brother, binding us together in a way
that allowed me to feel her thoughts and experiences.
Victor had learned long before any of us that she could
heal, and he'd wanted to lock her away and use her as his own
personal Fountain of Youth. He also hadn't hesitated to kill
anyone who got in his way—or, in the case of Dimitri and me,
use more creative ways to stop his opponents. I'd made a lot of
enemies in seventeen years, but I was pretty sure there was no
one I hated as much as Victor Dashkov—at least among the
living.
Dimitri had a look on his face I knew well. It was the one
he got when he thought I might punch someone. "He's been
locked up—but no, no trial yet. Legal proceedings sometimes
take a long time."
15
"But there's going to be a trial now? And you're going?" I
spoke through clenched teeth, trying to be calm. I suspected I
still had the I'm going to punch someone look on my face.
"Next week. They need me and some of the other
guardians to testify about what happened to you and Lissa that
night." His expression changed at the mention of what had
occurred four months ago, and again, I recognized the look. It
was the fierce, protective one he got when those he cared about
were in danger.
"Call me crazy for asking this, but, um, are Lissa and I
going with you?" I had already guessed the answer, and I didn't
like it.
"No."
"No?"
"No."
I put my hands on my hips. "Look, doesn't it seem
reasonable that if you're going to talk about what happened to
us, then you should have us there?"
Dimitri, fully in strict-instructor mode now, shook his
head. "The queen and some of the other guardians thought it'd
be best if you didn't go. There's enough evidence between the
rest of us, and besides, criminal or not, he is—or was—one of
the most powerful royals in the world. Those who know about
this trial want to keep it quiet."
"So, what, you thought if you brought us, we'd tell
everyone?" I exclaimed. "Come on, comrade. You really think
we'd do that? The only thing we want is to see Victor locked up.
Forever. Maybe longer. And if there's a chance he might walk
free, you have to let us go."
After Victor had been caught, he'd been taken to prison,
and I'd thought that was where the story had ended. I'd figured
they'd locked him up to rot. It had never occurred to me—
though it should have—that he'd need a trial first. At the time,
his crimes had seemed so obvious. But, although the Moroi
government was secret and separate from the human one, it
operated in a lot of the same ways. Due process and all that.
"It's not my decision to make," Dimitri said.
"But you have influence. You could speak up for us,
especially if…" Some of my anger dimmed just a little, replaced
by a sudden and startling fear. I almost couldn't say the next
words. "Especially if there really is a chance he might get off. Is
there? Is there really a chance the queen could let him go?"
"I don't know. There's no telling what she or some of the
other high-up royals will do sometimes." He suddenly looked
tired. He reached into his pocket and tossed over a set of keys.
"Look, I know you're upset, but we can't talk about it now. I
have to go meet Alberta, and you need to get inside. The square
key will let you in the far side door. You know the one."
I did. "Yeah. Thanks."
I was sulking and hated to be that way—especially since
he was saving me from getting in trouble—but I couldn't help it.
Victor Dashkov was a criminal—a villain, even. He was powerhungry
and greedy and didn't care who he stepped on to get his
way. If he were loose again…well, there was no telling what
might happen to Lissa or any other Moroi. It enraged me to
think that I could do something to help put him away but that no
one would let me do it.
I'd taken a few steps forward when Dimitri called out from
behind me. "Rose?" I glanced back. "I'm sorry," he said. He
paused, and his expression of regret turned wary. "And you'd
better bring the keys back tomorrow."
I turned away and kept going. It was probably unfair, but
some childish part of me believed Dimitri could do anything. If
he'd really wanted to get Lissa and me to the trial, I was certain
he could have.
When I was almost to the side door, I caught movement in
my peripheral vision. My mood plummeted. Great. Dimitri had
given me keys to sneak back in, and now someone else had
busted me. That was typical of my luck. Half-expecting a
teacher to demand to know what I was doing, I turned and
prepared an excuse.
But it wasn't a teacher.
"No," I said softly. This had to be a trick. "No."
For half an instant, I wondered if I'd ever really woken up.
Maybe I was actually still in bed, asleep and dreaming.
Because surely, surely that was the only explanation for
what I was now seeing in front of me on the Academy's lawn,
lurking in the shadow of an ancient, gnarled oak.
It was Mason.

Two

OR, WELL, IT LOOKED LIKE MASON.
He—or it or whatever—was hard to see. I had to keep
squinting and blinking to get him in focus. His form was
insubstantial—almost translucent—and kept fading in and out of
my field of vision.
But yes, from what I could see, he definitely looked like
Mason. His features were washed out, making his fair skin look
whiter than I recalled. His reddish hair now appeared as a faint,
watery orange. I could barely even see his freckles. He was
wearing exactly what I'd last seen him in: jeans and a yellow
fleece jacket. The edge of a green sweater peeped out from
underneath the coat's hem. Those colors, too, were all softened.
He looked like a photograph that someone had left out in the
sun, causing it to fade. A very, very faint glow seemed to outline
his features.
The part that struck me the most—aside from the fact that
he was supposed to be dead—was the look on his face. It was
sad—so, so sad. Looking into his eyes, I felt my heart break. All
the memories of what had taken place just a few weeks ago
came rushing back to me. I saw it all again: his body falling, the
cruel look on the Strigoi faces…. A lump formed in my throat. I
stood there frozen, stunned and unable to move.
He studied me too, his expression never changing. Sad.
Grim. Serious. He opened his mouth, like he might speak, and
then closed it. Several more heavy moments hung between us,
and then he lifted his hand and extended it toward me.
Something in that motion snapped me out of my daze. No, this
could not be happening. I wasn't seeing this. Mason was dead.
I'd seen him die. I'd held his body.
His fingers moved slightly, like he was beckoning, and I
panicked. Backing up a few steps, I put distance between us and
waited to see what would happen. He didn't follow. He simply
stood there, hand still in the air. My heart lurched, and I turned
and ran. When I'd almost reached the door, I stopped and
glanced back, letting my ragged breathing calm down. The
clearing he'd stood in was completely empty.
I made it up to my room and slammed the door behind me,
hands shaking. I sank onto my bed and replayed what had just
happened.
What the hell? That had not been real. No way.
Impossible. Mason was dead, and everyone knows the dead
don't come back. Well, yeah, I had come back…but that was a
different situation.
Clearly, I'd imagined this. That was it. It had to be. I was
overtired and still reeling from Lissa and Christian, not to
mention that Victor Dashkov news. Probably the cold had
frozen part of my brain too. Yes, the more I thought about it, the
more I decided there had to be a hundred explanations for what
had just happened.
Yet, no matter how often I told myself that, I couldn't fall
back asleep. I lay in my bed, covers pulled to my chin as I tried
to banish that haunting image from my mind. I couldn't. All I
could see were those sad, sad eyes, those eyes that seemed to
say, Rose, why did you let this happen to me?
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to think about him.
Since Mason's funeral, I'd been working so hard to go on and act
like I was strong. But the truth was, I was nowhere near being
over his death. I tortured myself day after day with what if?
questions. What if I'd been faster and stronger during the Strigoi
fight? What if I hadn't told him where the Strigoi were in the
first place? And what if I'd simply been able to return his love?
Any of those could have kept him alive, but none of them had
happened. And it was all my fault.
"I imagined it," I whispered out loud into the darkness of
my room. I had to have imagined it. Mason already haunted my
dreams. I didn't need to see him when I was awake too. "It
wasn't him."
It couldn't have been him, because the only way it could
have been was…Well, that was something I didn't want to think
about. Because while I believed in vampires and magic and
psychic powers, I most certainly did not believe in ghosts.
I apparently didn't believe in sleep, either, because I didn't
get much of it that night. I tossed and turned, unable to quiet my
racing mind. I eventually did drift off, but it seemed like my
alarm went off so soon after that I could have hardly slept for
more than a few minutes.
Among humans, the light of day tends to chase off
nightmares and fear. I had no such daylight; I awoke to
increasing darkness. But just being out with real and living
people had nearly the same effect, and as I went to breakfast and
my morning practice, I found that what I'd seen last night—or
what I thought I'd seen last night—was growing fainter and
fainter in my memory.
The weirdness of that encounter was also being replaced
by something else: excitement. This was it. The big day. The
start of our field experience.
For the next six weeks, I wouldn't have any classes. I'd get
to spend my days hanging out with Lissa, and the most I'd have
to do was write a daily field report that was only about a halfpage
long. Easy. And, yeah, of course I'd be on guard duty, but I
wasn't concerned. That was second nature to me. She and I had
lived among humans for two years, and I'd protected her the
whole time. Before that, when I'd been a freshman, I'd seen the
kinds of tests the adult guardians planned for novices during this
phase. The ordeals were tricky, absolutely. A novice had to be
on watch and not slack—and be ready to defend and attack if
necessary. None of that worried me, though. Lissa and I had
been away from the school our sophomore and junior years, and
I'd fallen behind then. Thanks to my extra practices with
Dimitri, I'd quickly caught up and was now one of the best in
my class.
"Hey, Rose."
Eddie Castile caught up to me as I walked into the gym
where our field experience orientation would kick off. For a
brief moment, looking at Eddie, my heart sank. Suddenly, it was
like I was out in the quad again with Mason, staring at his
sorrowful face.
Eddie—along with Lissa's boyfriend, Christian, and a
Moroi named Mia—had been with our group when we'd been
captured by Strigoi. Eddie hadn't died, obviously, but he'd come
very close to it. The Strigoi who'd held us had used him as food,
feeding from him throughout our capture in an effort to tease the
Moroi and scare the dhampirs. It had worked; I'd been terrified.
Poor Eddie had been unconscious for most of the ordeal, thanks
to blood loss and the endorphins that came from a vampire's
bite. He'd been Mason's best friend and nearly as funny and
lighthearted.
But since we'd escaped, Eddie had changed, just like I had.
He was still quick to smile and laugh, but there was a grimness
to him now, a dark and serious look in his eyes that was always
on guard for the worst to happen. That was understandable, of
course. He pretty much had seen the worst happen. Just like
with Mason's death, I held myself responsible for this
transformation in Eddie and for what he'd suffered at the hands
of the Strigoi. That may not have been fair to me, but I couldn't
help it. I felt like I owed him now, like I needed to protect him
or make things up to him somehow.

And that was kind of funny, because I think Eddie was
trying to protect me. He wasn't stalking me or anything, but I'd
noticed him keeping an eye on me. I think after what had
happened, he felt he owed it to Mason to watch over his
girlfriend. I never bothered to tell Eddie that I hadn't been
Mason's girlfriend, not in the real sense of the word, just as I
never rebuked Eddie for his big brother behavior. I could
certainly take care of myself. But whenever I heard him warning
other guys away from me, pointing out that I wasn't ready to
date anyone yet, I saw no point in interfering. It was all true. I
wasn't ready to date.

Eddie gave me a lopsided smile that added a little boy type
of cuteness to his long face. "Are you excited?"
"Hell, yeah," I said. Our classmates were filling in
bleachers on one side of the gym, and we found a clear spot near
the middle. "It's going to be like a vacation. Me and Lissa,
together for six weeks." As frustrating as our bond was
sometimes, it nonetheless made me her ideal guardian. I always
knew where she was and what was happening to her. Once we
graduated and were out in the world, I'd be assigned to her
officially.
He turned thoughtful. "Yeah, I guess you don't have to
worry as much. You know your assignment when you graduate.
The rest of us aren't so lucky."
"You got your sights set on someone royal?" I teased.
"Well, it doesn't matter. Most guardians are assigned to
royals lately anyway."
That was true. Dhampirs—half-vampires like me—were in
short supply, and royals usually got first pick of guardians.
There was a time in the past when more Moroi, royal and nonroyal
alike, would have gotten guardians, and novices like us
would have competed fiercely to get assigned to someone
important. Now it was almost a given that every guardian would
work for a royal family. There weren't enough of us to go
around, and less influential families were on their own.
"Still," I said, "I guess it's a question of which royal you
get, right? I mean, some are total snobs, but lots of them are
cool. Get someone really rich and powerful, and you could be
living at the Royal Court or traveling to exotic places." That last
part appealed to me a lot, and I often had fantasies of Lissa and
me traveling the world.

"Yup," agreed Eddie. He nodded toward a few guys in the
front row. "You wouldn't believe the way those three have been
sucking up to some of the Ivashkovs and Szelskys. It won't
affect their assignments here, of course, but you can tell they're
already trying to set things up after graduation."

"Well, the field experience can affect that. How we're
rated on this will go into our records."

Eddie nodded again and started to say something when a
loud, clear feminine voice cut through the murmur of our
conversation. We both looked up. While we'd been talking, our
instructors had gathered in front of the bleachers and now stood
facing us in an impressive line. Dimitri was among them, dark
and imposing and irresistible. Alberta was trying to call us to
attention. The crowd fell silent.

"All right," she began. Alberta was in her fifties, wiry and
tough. Seeing her reminded me of the conversation she and
Dimitri had had last night, but I filed that away for later. Victor
Dashkov was not going to ruin this moment. "You all know why
you're here." We'd become so quiet, so tense and excited, that
her voice now rang through the gym. "This is the most
important day of your education before you take your final
trials. Today you will find out which Moroi you've been placed
with. Last week, you were given a booklet with the full details
of how the next six weeks will play out. I trust you've all read it
by now." I had, actually. I'd probably never read anything so
thoroughly in my life. "Just to recap, Guardian Alto will
highlight the main rules of this exercise."
She handed a clipboard to Guardian Stan Alto. He was one
of my least favorite instructors, but after Mason's death, some of
the tension between us had lightened. We understood each other
better now.
"Here we go," said Stan gruffly. "You'll be on duty six
days a week. This is actually a treat for you guys. In the real
world, you're usually working every day. You will accompany
your Moroi everywhere—to class, to their dorms, to their
feedings. Everything. It's up to you to figure out how you fit into
their lives. Some Moroi interact with their guardians just like
friends; some Moroi prefer you to be more of an invisible ghost
who doesn't talk to them." Did he have to use the word ghost?
"Every situation is different, and you two will have to find a
way to work it out to best ensure their safety.
"Attacks may come at any time, anywhere, and we'll be
dressed in all black when it happens. You should always be on
your guard. Remember, even though you'll obviously know it's
us doing the attacking and not real Strigoi, you should respond
as though your lives are in terrible, immediate danger. Don't be
afraid of hurting us. Some of you, I'm sure, won't have any
qualms about getting us back for past grievances." Students in
the crowd giggled at this. "But some of you may feel like you
have to hold back, for fear of getting in trouble. Don't. You'll get
in more trouble if you do hold back. Don't worry. We can take
it."

He flipped to the next page of his clipboard. "You will be
on duty twenty-four hours a day for your six-day cycles, but you
may sleep during daylight when your Moroi does. Just be aware
that although Strigoi attacks are rare in daylight, they aren't
impossible indoors, and you will not necessarily be 'safe' during
these times."

Stan read over a few more technicalities, and I found
myself tuning them out. I knew this stuff. We all did. Glancing
around, I could see I wasn't alone in my impatience. Excitement
and apprehension crackled in the crowd. Hands were clenched.
Eyes were wide. We all wanted our assignments. We all wanted
this to begin.
When Stan finished, he handed the clipboard to Alberta.
"Okay," she said. "I'm going to call out your names one by one
and announce who you're paired with. At that time, come down
here to the floor, and Guardian Chase will give you a packet
containing information about your Moroi's schedule, past,
etcetera."
We all straightened up as she leafed through her papers.
Students whispered. Beside me, Eddie exhaled heavily. "Oh
man. I hope I get someone good," he muttered. "I don't want to
be miserable for the next six weeks."
I squeezed his arm reassuringly. "You will," I whispered
back. "Er, get someone good, I mean. Not be miserable."
"Ryan Aylesworth," Alberta announced clearly. Eddie
flinched, and I instantly knew why. Before, Mason Ashford had
always been the first one called on any class lists. That would
never happen again. "You are assigned to Camille Conta."
"Damn," muttered someone behind us, who'd apparently
been hoping to get Camille.
Ryan was one of the suck-ups in the front row, and he
grinned broadly as he walked over to take his packet. The
Contas were an up-and-coming royal family. It was rumored
that one of their members was a candidate for when the Moroi
queen eventually named her heir. Plus, Camille was pretty cute.
Following her around wouldn't be too hard for any guy. Ryan,
walking with a swagger, seemed very pleased with himself.
"Dean Barnes," she said next. "You have Jesse Zeklos."

"Ugh," Eddie and I both said together. If I'd been assigned
to Jesse, he would have needed an extra person to protect him.
From me.
Alberta kept reading names, and I noticed Eddie was
sweating. "Please, please let me get someone good," he
muttered.
"You will," I said. "You will."
"Edison Castile," Alberta announced. He gulped. "Vasilisa
Dragomir."
Eddie and I both froze for the space of a heartbeat, and
then duty made him stand up and head toward the floor. As he
stepped down the bleachers, he shot me a quick, panicked look
over his shoulder. His expression seemed to say, I don't know! I
don't know!
That made two of us. The world around me slowed to a
blur. Alberta kept calling names, but I didn't hear any of them.
What was going on? Clearly, someone had made a mistake.
Lissa was my assignment. She had to be. I was going to be her
guardian when we graduated. This made no sense. Heart racing,
I watched Eddie walk over to Guardian Chase and get his packet
and practice stake. He glanced down at the papers immediately,
and I suspected he was double-checking the name, certain there
was a mix-up. The expression on his face when he looked up
told me that it was Lissa's name he'd found.
I took a deep breath. Okay. No need to panic just yet.
Someone had made a clerical error here, one that could be fixed.
In fact, they'd have to fix it soon. When they got to me and read
Lissa's name again, they were going to realize they'd doublebooked
one of the Moroi. They'd straighten it out and give Eddie
someone else. After all, there were plenty of Moroi to go
around. They outnumbered dhampirs at the school.
"Rosemarie Hathaway." I tensed. "Christian Ozera."

I simply stared at Alberta, unable to move or respond. No.
She had not just said what I thought. A few people, noticing my
lack of movement, glanced back at me. But I was dumbstruck.
This wasn't happening. My Mason delusion from last night
seemed more real than this. A few moments later, Alberta also
realized I wasn't moving. She looked up from her clipboard with
annoyance, scanning the crowd.
"Rose Hathaway?"
Someone elbowed me, like maybe I didn't recognize my
own name. Swallowing, I stood and walked down the bleachers,
robot-like. There was a mistake. There had to be a mistake. I
headed toward Guardian Chase, feeling like a puppet that
someone else was controlling. He handed me my packet and a
practice stake meant to "kill" the adult guardians with, and I
stepped out of the way for the next person.
Disbelieving, I read the words on the packet's cover three
times. Christian Ozera. Flipping it open, I saw his life spread
out before me. A current picture. His class schedule. His family
tree. His bio. It even went into detail about his parents' tragic
history, how they'd chosen to become Strigoi and had murdered
several people before finally being hunted down and killed.
Our directions at this point had been to read through our
dossiers, pack a bag, and then meet up with our Moroi at lunch.
As more names were called, many of my classmates lingered
around the gym, talking to their friends and showing off their
packets. I hovered near one group, discreetly waiting for a
chance to talk to Alberta and Dimitri. It was a sign of my newly
developing patience that I didn't walk right up to them then and
there and demand answers. Believe me, I wanted to. Instead, I
let them go through their list, but it felt like forever. Honestly,
how long did it take to read a bunch of names?
When the last novice had been assigned his Moroi, Stan
shouted above the din for us to move on to the next stage of the
assignment and tried to herd out my classmates. I cut through
the crowd and stalked up to Dimitri and Alberta, who blessedly
were standing with each other. They were chatting about
something administrative and didn't notice me right away.
When they did glance at me, I held up my packet and
pointed. "What's this?"
Alberta's face looked blank and confused. Something in
Dimitri's told me he'd been expecting this. "It's your assignment,
Miss Hathaway," Alberta said.
"No," I said through gritted teeth. "It's not. This is
somebody else's assignment."
"The assignments in your field experience aren't optional,"
she told me sternly. "Just as your assignments in the real world
won't be. You can't pick who you protect based on whim and
mood, not here and certainly not after graduation."
"But after graduation, I'm going to be Lissa's guardian!" I
exclaimed. "Everyone knows that. I'm supposed to have her for
this thing."
"I know it's an accepted idea that you'll be together after
graduation, but I do not recall any mandatory rulings that say
you're 'supposed' to have her or anyone here at school. You take
who you're assigned."
"Christian?" I threw my packet on the floor. "You're out of
your mind if you think I'm guarding him."
"Rose!" snapped Dimitri, joining the conversation at last.
His voice was so hard and so sharp that I flinched and forgot
what I was saying for half a second. "You're out of line. You do
not speak to your instructors like that."
I hated being chastised by anyone. I especially hated being
chastised by him. And I especially hated being chastised by him
when he was right. But I couldn't help it. I was too angry, and
the lack of sleep was taking its toll. My nerves felt raw and
strained, and suddenly, little things seemed difficult to bear. And
big things like this? Impossible to bear.
"Sorry," I said with great reluctance. "But this is stupid.
Nearly as stupid as not bringing us to Victor Dashkov's trial."
Alberta blinked in surprise. "How did you know—Never
mind. We'll deal with that later. For now, this is your
assignment, and you need to do it."
Eddie suddenly spoke up beside me, his voice filled with
apprehension. I'd lost track of him earlier. "Look … I don't
mind…. We can switch…."
Alberta turned her stony gaze from me to him. "No, you
certainly cannot. Vasilisa Dragomir is your assignment." She
looked back at me. "And Christian Ozera is yours. End of
discussion."
"This is stupid!" I repeated. "Why should I waste my time
with Christian? Lissa's the one I'm going to be with when I
graduate. Seems like if you want me to be able to do a good job,
you should have me practice with her."
"You will do a good job with her," said Dimitri. "Because
you know her. And you have your bond. But somewhere,
someday, you could end up with a different Moroi. You need to
learn how to guard someone with whom you have absolutely no
experience."
"I have experience with Christian," I grumbled. "That's the
problem. I hate him." Okay, that was a huge exaggeration.
Christian annoyed me, true, but I didn't really hate him. As I'd
said, working together against the Strigoi had changed a lot of
things. Again, I felt like my lack of sleep and general irritability
were cranking up the magnitude of everything.

"So much the better," said Alberta. "Not everyone you
protect will be your friend. Not everyone you protect will be
someone you like. You need to learn this."
"I need to learn how to fight Strigoi," I said. "I've learned
that in class." I fixed them with a sharp look, ready to play my
trump card. "And I've done it in person."
"There's more to this job than the technicalities, Miss
Hathaway. There's a whole personal aspect—a bedside manner,
if you will—that we don't touch on much in class. We teach you
how to deal with the Strigoi. You need to learn how to deal with
the Moroi yourselves. And you in particular need to deal with
someone who has not been your best friend for years."
"You also need to learn what it's like to work with
someone when you can't instantly sense that they're in danger,"
added Dimitri.
"Right," agreed Alberta. "That's a handicap. If you want to
be a good guardian—if you want to be an excellent guardian—
then you need to do as we say."
I opened my mouth to fight this, to argue that having
someone I was so close to would train me up faster and make
me a better guardian for any other Moroi. Dimitri cut me off.
"Working with another Moroi will also help keep Lissa
alive," he said.
That shut me down. It was pretty much the only thing that
could have, and damn him, he knew it.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Lissa's got a handicap too—you. If she never has a
chance to learn what it's like to be guarded by someone without
a psychic connection, she could be at greater risk if attacked.
Guarding someone is really a two-person relationship. This
assignment for your field experience is as much for her as for
you."
I stayed silent as I processed his words. They almost made
sense.
"And," added Alberta, "it's the only assignment you're
going to get. If you don't take it, then you opt out of the field
experience."
Opt out? Was she crazy? It wasn't like a class I could sit
out from for one day. If I didn't do my field experience, I didn't
graduate. I wanted to explode about unfairness, but Dimitri
stopped me without saying a word. The constant, calm look in
his dark eyes held me back, encouraging me to accept this
gracefully—or as close as I could manage.
Reluctantly I picked up the packet. "Fine," I said icily. "I'll
do this. But I want it noted that I'm doing this against my will."
"I think we already figured that out, Miss Hathaway,"
remarked Alberta dryly.
"Whatever. I still think it's a horrible idea, and you
eventually will too."
I turned and stormed off across the gym before any of
them could respond. In doing so, I fully realized what a bitchy
little brat I sounded like. But if they'd just endured their best
friend's sex life, seen a ghost, and hardly gotten any sleep, they'd
have been bitchy too. Plus, I was about to spend six weeks with
Christian Ozera. He was sarcastic, difficult, and made jokes
about everything.
Actually, he was a lot like me.
It was going to be a long six weeks.

Three
"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."
There was no avoiding it. Besides, he'd know soon
enough. Everyone would know. "I got assigned to Christian for
my field experience."
There was a pause, and then Adrian burst out laughing.
"Wow. Now I understand. In light of that, you actually seem
remarkably calm."
"I was supposed to have Lissa," I growled. "I can't believe
they did this to me."
"Why did they do it? Is there some chance you might not
be with her when you graduate?"
"No. They just all seem to think this is going to help me
train better now. Dimitri and I will still be her real guardians
later."
Adrian gave me a sidelong glance. "Oh, I'm sure that'll be
quite the hardship for you."
It had to be one of the weirdest things in the universe that
Lissa had never come close to suspecting my feelings for
Dimitri but that Adrian had figured it out.
"Like I said, your commentary isn't appreciated today."
He apparently didn't agree. I had a suspicious feeling he'd
been drinking already, and it was barely even lunchtime.
"What's the problem? Christian'll be with Lissa all the time
anyway."
Adrian had a point. Not that I'd have admitted it. Then, in
that short-attention-span way of his, he switched subjects just as
we neared the building.
"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."
Shaking my head, I picked up the now-cold cigarette butt
and took it to a garbage can that was outside the building. When
I entered, the warmth inside was a welcome change as I shook
off the slush on my boots. Down in the cafeteria, I found lunch
wrapping up for the afternoon. Here, dhampirs sat side by side
with Moroi, providing a study in contrasts. Dhampirs, with our
half-human blood, were bigger—though not taller— and more
solidly built. The girl novices were curvier than the ultra-slim
Moroi girls, the boy novices far more muscular than their
vampire counterparts. The Moroi complexions were pale and
delicate, like porcelain, while ours were tanned from being
outside in the sun so much.
Lissa sat at a table by herself, looking serene and angelic
in a white sweater. Her pale blond hair cascaded over her
shoulders. She glanced up at my approach, and welcoming
feelings flowed to me through our bond. She grinned. "Oh, look
at your face. It's true, isn't it? You really are assigned to
Christian." I glared.
"Would it kill you to be a little less miserable?" She gave
me a censuring yet amused look as she licked the last of her
strawberry yogurt off her spoon. "I mean, he's my boyfriend,
after all. I hang out with him all the time. It's not that bad."
"You have the patience of a saint," I grumbled, slouching
into a chair. "And besides, you don't hang out with him 24/7."
"Neither will you. It's only 24/6."
"Same difference. It might as well be 24/10." She frowned.
"That doesn't make any sense." I waved off my idiotic remark
and stared blankly around the lunchroom. The room was
buzzing with news of the impending field exercise, which would
kick off as soon as lunch ended. Camille's best friend had gotten
assigned to Ryan's best friend, and the four of them huddled
gleefully together, looking as though they were about to embark
on a six-week double date. At least someone would enjoy all
this. I sighed. Christian, my soon-to-be charge, was off with the
feeders—humans who willingly donated blood to Moroi.
Through our bond, I sensed Lissa wanting to tell me
something. She was holding off because she was worried about
my bad mood and wanted to make sure I got enough support. I
smiled. "Stop worrying about me. What's up?"
She smiled back, her pink-glossed lips hiding her fangs. "I
got permission."
"Permission for—?" The answer flitted from her mind
faster than she could have voiced it. "What?" I exclaimed.
"You're going to stop your meds?"
Spirit was an amazing power, one whose cool abilities we
were just starting to figure out. It had a very nasty side effect,
however: It could lead to depression and insanity. Part of the
reason Adrian indulged in drinking so much (aside from his
party nature) was to numb himself against these side effects.
Lissa had a much healthier way of doing it. She took
antidepressants, which completely cut her off from the magic
altogether. She hated not being able to work with spirit
anymore, but that was an acceptable trade-off for not going
crazy. Well, I thought it was. She apparently disagreed if she
was considering this insane experiment. I knew she'd been
wanting to try the magic again, but I hadn't really thought she'd
go through with it—or that anyone would let her.
"I have to check in with Ms. Carmack every day and
regularly talk to a counselor." Lissa made a face at this last part,
but her overall feelings were still quite upbeat. "I can't wait to
see what I can do with Adrian."
"Adrian's a bad influence."
"He didn't make me do this, Rose. I chose it." When I
didn't answer, she lightly touched my arm. "Hey, listen. Don't
worry. I've been so much better, and lots of people are going to
have my back."
"Everyone except me," I told her wistfully. Across the
room, Christian entered through a set of double doors and
approached us. The clock read five minutes until the end of
lunch. "Oh man. The zero hour is almost here."
Christian pulled up a chair at our table and flipped it
backwards, letting his chin rest on its slatted back. He brushed
his black hair away from his blue eyes and gave us a smug
smile. I felt Lissa's heart lighten at his presence.
"I can't wait until this show gets on the road," he said.
"You and me are going to have so much fun, Rose. Picking out
curtains, doing each other's hair, telling ghost stories "
The reference to "ghost stories" hit a little closer to home
than I was comfortable with. Not that choosing curtains or
brushing Christian's hair was much more appealing.
I shook my head in exasperation and stood up. "I'll leave
you two alone for your last few private moments." They
laughed.
I walked over to the lunch line, hoping to find some
leftover doughnuts from breakfast. So far, I could see croissants,
quiche, and poached pears. It must have been highbrow day at
the cafeteria. Was deep-fried dough really too much to ask for?
Eddie stood in front of me. His face turned apologetic as soon as
he saw me.
"Rose, I'm really sorry—"
I put up a hand to stop him. "Don't worry. It's not your
fault. Just promise me you'll do a good job protecting her."
It was a silly sentiment since she was in no real danger, but
I could never really stop worrying about her—particularly in
light of this new development with her medication.
Eddie stayed serious, apparently not thinking my request
was silly at all. He was one of the few who knew about Lissa's
abilities—and their downsides, which was probably why he'd
been selected to guard her. "I won't let anything happen to her. I
mean it."
I couldn't help a smile, in spite of my glum mood. His
experiences with the Strigoi made him take all of this more
seriously than almost any other novice. Aside from me, he was
probably the best choice to guard her.
"Rose, is it true you punched Guardian Petrov?"
I turned and looked into the faces of two Moroi, Jesse
Zeklos and Ralf Sarcozy. They'd just stepped in line behind
Eddie and me and looked more self-satisfied and annoying than
usual. Jesse was all bronzed good looks and quick thinking. Ralf
was his slightly less attractive and slightly less intelligent
sidekick. They were quite possibly the two people I hated most
at this school, mainly due to some nasty rumors they'd spread
about me doing some very explicit things with them. It was
Mason's strong-arming that had forced them to tell the truth to
the school, and I don't think they'd ever forgiven me for that.
"Punch Alberta? Hardly." I started to turn around, but Ralf
kept talking.
"We heard you threw a big hissy fit in the gym when you
found out who you were with."
"'Hissy fit'? What are you, sixty? All I did was—" I paused
and carefully chose my words. "—register my opinion."
"Well," said Jesse. "I suppose if anyone's going to keep an
eye on that Strigoi wannabe, it might as well be you. You're the
biggest badass around here."
The grudging tone in his voice made it sound like he was
complimenting me. I didn't see it that way at all. Before he could
utter another word, I was standing right in front of him, with
barely any space between us. In what I considered a true sign of
discipline, I didn't put my hand around his throat. His eyes
widened in surprise.
"Christian has nothing to do with any Strigoi," I said in a
low voice.
"His parents—"
"Are his parents. And he's Christian. Don't confuse them."
Jesse had been on the wrong side of my anger before. He was
clearly remembering that, and his fear warred with his desire to
trash-talk Christian in front of me. Surprisingly, the latter won
out.
"Earlier you acted like being with him was the end of the
world, and now you're defending him? You know how he is—he
breaks rules all the time. Are you saying you seriously don't
believe there's any chance at all he might turn Strigoi like his
parents?"
"None," I said. "Absolutely none. Christian's more willing
to take a stand against Strigoi than probably any other Moroi
here." Jesse's eyes flicked curiously toward Ralf before
returning to me. "He even helped me fight against those ones in
Spokane. There is no chance of him ever, ever turning Strigoi." I
racked my brain, trying to recall who had been assigned to Jesse
for the field experience. "And if I hear you spreading that crap
around, Dean isn't going to be able to save you from me."
"Or me," added Eddie, who had come to stand right beside
me.
Jesse swallowed and took a step back. "You're such a liar.
You can't lay a hand on me. If you get suspended now, you'll
never graduate."
He was right, of course, but I smiled anyway. "Might be
worth it. We'll have to see, huh?"
It was at that point that Jesse and Ralf decided they didn't
want anything from the lunch line after all. They stalked off, and
I heard something that sounded suspiciously like "crazy bitch."
"Jerks," I muttered. Then I brightened. "Oh, hey.
Doughnuts."
I got a chocolate-glazed, and then Eddie and I hurried off
to find our Moroi and get to class. He grinned at me. "If I didn't
know any better, I'd say you just defended Christian's honor.
Isn't he a pain in the ass?"
"Yes," I said, licking icing off my fingers. "He is. But for
the next six weeks, he's my pain in the ass."

Four
IT BEGAN.
At first, things weren't too different from any other day.
Dhampirs and Moroi attended separate classes in the first half of
the school day, then joined up after lunch. Christian had most of
the same afternoon classes I'd had last semester, so it was almost
like following my own schedule again. The difference was that I
was no longer a student in these classes. I didn't sit at a desk or
have to do any of the work. I was also a lot more uncomfortable
since I had to stand at the back of the room the entire time,
along with other novices who were guarding Moroi. Outside the
school, this was what it was usually like. Moroi came first.
Guardians were shadows.
There was a strong temptation to talk to our fellow
novices, particularly during times when the Moroi were working
on their own and talking amongst themselves. None of us
cracked, though. The pressure and adrenaline of the first day had
us all on good behavior.
After biology, Eddie and I started using a bodyguard
technique called pair guarding. I was near guard and walked
with Lissa and Christian for immediate defense. Eddie, being far
guard, walked farther away and scanned the larger area for any
potential threats.
We followed this pattern for the rest of the day, up until
the last class came around. Lissa gave Christian a quick kiss on
the cheek, and I realized they were parting.
"You guys don't have the same schedule this time?" I
asked with dismay, stepping over to the side of the hall to stay
out of student traffic. Eddie had already deduced that we were
parting and had stopped far guard duties to come talk to us. I
hadn't known how Lissa and Christian's schedules lined up for
this new semester.
Lissa took in my disappointed look and gave me a
sympathetic smile. "Sorry. We're going to study together after
school, but right now, I've got to go to creative writing."
"And I," declared Christian loftily, "have to go to culinary
science."
"Culinary science?" I cried. "You elected culinary
science? That's like the most brainless class ever."
"It is not," he countered. "And even if it was … well, hey,
it's my last semester, right?" I groaned.
"Come on, Rose," laughed Lissa. "It's just one class
period. It won't be that—"
She was cut off when a commotion broke out farther down
the hall. We and everyone near us stopped and stared. One of
my guardian instructors, Emil, had practically appeared out of
nowhere and—playing Strigoi—reached for a Moroi girl. He
swung her away, pressing her to his chest and exposing her neck
as though he would bite her. I couldn't see who she was, just a
tangle of brown hair, but her assigned protector was Shane
Reyes. The attack had caught him by surprise—it was the first
one of the day—but he fumbled only a little as he kicked Emil
in the side and wrested the girl away. The two guys squared off,
and everyone watched eagerly. A few even whistled and
shouted, cheering Shane on.
One of the catcallers was Ryan Aylesworth. He was so
fixated on watching the fight—which Shane, wielding his
practice stake, had just about won—that he didn't notice two
other adult guardians sneaking up on him and Camille. Eddie
and I realized it at the same time and stiffened, instinct readying
both of us to spring forward.
"Stay with them," Eddie told me. He headed toward Ryan
and Camille, who had just discovered they were being set upon.
Ryan didn't react as well as Shane had, particularly since he
faced two attackers. One of the guardians distracted Ryan while
the other—Dimitri, I now saw—grabbed Camille. She
screamed, not faking her fear. She apparently didn't find being
in Dimitri's arms as thrilling as I did.
Eddie headed toward them, approaching from behind, and
landed a blow on the side of Dimitri's head. It hardly fazed
Dimitri, but I was still amazed. I'd barely ever been able to land
a hit on him in all our trainings. Eddie's attack forced Dimitri to
release Camille and face this new threat. He spun around,
graceful as a dancer, and advanced on Eddie.
Meanwhile, Shane had "staked" his Strigoi and jumped in
to help Eddie, moving around to Dimitri's other side. I watched,
fists clenched in excitement, intrigued with the fighting in
general and with watching Dimitri in particular. It amazed me
that someone so deadly could be so beautiful. I wished I was
part of the fray but knew I had to watch the area around me in
case any "Strigoi" attacked here.
But they didn't. Shane and Eddie successfully "finished
off" Dimitri. Part of me was a little sad at this. I wanted Dimitri
to be good at everything. However, Ryan had tried to help and
failed. Dimitri had technically "killed" him, so I felt a twisted
comfort in thinking that Dimitri had still been a badass Strigoi.
He and Emil praised Shane for being fast on his feet and Eddie
for realizing we had to treat this as a group endeavor rather than
one-on-one trials. I got a nod for watching Eddie's back, and
Ryan was chastised for not paying attention to his Moroi.
Eddie and I grinned at each other, happy over getting high
marks on this first test. I wouldn't have minded a slightly bigger
role, but this wasn't a bad start to the field experience. We highfived,
and I saw Dimitri shake his head at us as he left.
With the drama over, our foursome split up. Lissa gave me
one last smile over her shoulder and spoke to me through the
bond, Have fun in culinary science! I rolled my eyes, but she
and Eddie had already rounded a corner.
"Culinary science" sounded pretty impressive, but really, it
was just a fancy term for what was essentially a cooking class.
Despite my teasing Christian about it being brainless, I had
some respect for it. I could barely boil water, after all. Still, it
was a lot different from an elective like creative writing or
debate, and I had no doubts Christian was taking it as a blow-off
class and not because he wanted to be a chef someday. At least I
might get some satisfaction out of watching him mix a cake or
something. Maybe he'd even wear an apron.
There were three other novices in the class who were
guarding Moroi. Since the culinary science room was large and
open, with lots of windows, the four of us worked together to
come up with a plan to pool our efforts and secure the whole
room. When I'd watched novices do their field experiences in
past years, I'd only ever paid attention to the fights. I'd never
noticed the teamwork and strategizing that must have been
going on. Theoretically, the four of us were here to only protect
our assigned Moroi, but we'd slipped into a role where we were
protecting the whole class.
My post was by a fire door that led outside of the school.
Coincidentally, it was right by the station Christian was working
at. The class normally cooked in pairs, but there was an odd
number of students. Rather than work in a group of three,
Christian had volunteered to be by himself. No one had seemed
to mind. Many still regarded him and his family with the same
prejudice that Jesse did. To my disappointment, Christian wasn't
making a cake.
"What is that?" I asked, watching him take out a bowl of
some kind of raw, ground-up meat from the refrigerator.
"Meat," he said, dumping it onto a cutting board.
"I know that, you idiot. What kind?"
"Ground beef." He pulled another container out and then
another. "And this is veal. And this is pork."
"Do you have, like, a T.rex that you're going to feed?"
"Only if you want some. This is for meatloaf."
I stared. "With three kinds of meat?"
"Why eat something called meatloaf if you aren't actually
going to get some meat out of it?"
I shook my head. "I can't believe this is only the first day
with you."
He glanced down, focusing on kneading his tri-meat
creation together. "You sure are making a big deal out of this.
Do you really hate me that much? I heard you were screaming at
the top of your lungs back in the gym."
"No, I wasn't. And … I don't hate you at all," I admitted.
"You're just taking it out on me because you didn't get
paired with Lissa."
I didn't answer. He wasn't that far off.
"You know," he continued, "it might actually be a good
idea for you to practice with someone different."
"I know. That's what Dimitri says too."
Christian put the meat into a bowl and started adding some
other ingredients. "Then why question it? Belikov knows what
he's doing. I'd trust anything he says. It sucks that they're going
to lose him after we graduate, but I'd rather see him with Lissa."
"Me too."
He paused and looked up, meeting my eyes. We both
smiled, amused at how shocked we were to have agreed with
each other. A moment later, he returned to his work.
"You're good too," he said, not too grudgingly. "The way
you handled yourself…"
He didn't finish the thought, but I knew what he was
talking about. Spokane. Christian hadn't been around when I
killed the Strigoi, but he'd been instrumental in helping with the
escape. He and I had teamed up, using his fire magic as a means
of letting me subdue our captors. We'd worked well together, all
of our animosity put aside.
"I guess you and I have better things to do than fight all
the time," I mused. Like worry about Victor Dashkov's trial, I
realized. For a moment, I considered telling Christian what I'd
learned. He'd been around the night it had all gone down with
Victor last fall, but I decided not to mention the news just yet.
Lissa needed to hear it first.
"Yup," Christian said, unaware of my thoughts. "Brace
yourself, but we aren't that different. I mean, I'm smarter and a
lot funnier, but at the end of the day, we both want to keep her
safe." He hesitated. "You know…I'm not going to take her away
from you. I can't. No one can, not as long as you guys have that
bond."
I was surprised he'd brought this up. I honestly suspected
that there were two reasons he and I argued a lot. One was that
we both had personalities that liked to argue. The other reason—
the big one—was that we were each envious of the other's
relationship with Lissa. But, as he'd said, we really had the same
motives. We cared about her.
"And don't think the bond will keep you guys apart," I
said. I knew the link bothered him. How could you ever get
romantically close to someone when they had that kind of
connection with another person, even if that other person was
just a friend? "She cares about you. …" I couldn't bring myself
to say "loves." "She has a whole separate place for you in her
heart."
Christian put his dish in the oven. "You did not just say
that. I have a feeling we're on the verge of hugging and coming
up with cute nicknames for each other." He was trying to look
disgusted at my sentiment, but I could tell he liked being told
that Lissa cared about him.
"I already have a nickname for you, but I'll get in trouble if
I say it in class."
"Ah," he said happily. "That's the Rose I know."
He went off to talk to another friend while his meatloaf
cooked, which was probably just as well. My door was a
vulnerable position, and I shouldn't have been chatting away,
even if the rest of the class was. Across the room, I saw Jesse
and Ralf working together. Like Christian, they'd chosen a
blow-off class too.
No attacks occurred, but a guardian named Dustin did
come in to make notes on us novices as we held our positions.
He was standing near me right when Jesse chose to stroll by. At
first, I thought it was a coincidence—until Jesse spoke.
"I take back what I said earlier, Rose. I figured it out. You
aren't upset because of Lissa or Christian. You're upset because
the rules say you have to be with a student, and Adrian
Ivashkov's too old. The way I hear it, you guys have already had
a lot of practice watching each other's bodies."
That joke could have been so much funnier, but I'd learned
not to expect too much from Jesse. I knew for a fact that he
didn't care about Adrian and me. I also suspected he didn't even
believe we had anything going on. But Jesse was still bitter
about me threatening him earlier, and here was his chance to get
back at me. Dustin, standing within earshot, had no interest in
Jesse's idiotic teasing. Dustin would probably have an interest,
however, if I slammed Jesse's face into the wall.
That didn't mean I had to be silent, though. Guardians
talked to Moroi all the time; they just tended to be respectful and
still keep an eye on their surroundings. So I gave Jesse a small
smile and simply said, "Your wit is always such a delight, Mr.
Zeklos. I can barely contain myself around it." I then turned
away and surveyed the rest of the room.
When Jesse realized I wasn't going to do anything else, he
laughed and walked away, apparently thinking he'd won some
great victory. Dustin left shortly thereafter.
"Asshole," muttered Christian, returning to his station.
Class had about five minutes left.
My eyes followed Jesse across the room. "You know
something, Christian? I'm pretty happy to be guarding you."
"If you're comparing me to Zeklos, I don't really take that
as much of a compliment. But here, try this. Then you'll really
be glad you're with me."
His masterpiece was finished, and he gave me a piece. I
hadn't realized it, but just before the meatloaf had gone in, he'd
wrapped it in bacon.
"Good God," I said. "This is the most stereotypical
vampire food ever."
"Only if it was raw. What do you think?"
"It's good," I said reluctantly. Who knew that bacon would
make all the difference? "Really good. I think you have a
promising future as a housewife while Lissa works and makes
millions of dollars."
"Funny, that's exactly my dream."
We left the class in lighter moods. Things had grown more
friendly between us, and I decided that I could handle the next
six weeks protecting him.
He and Lissa were going to meet in the library to study—
or pretend to study—but he had to stop by his dorm first. So I
followed him across the quad, back into the winter air that had
grown chillier since sunset seven hours ago. The snow on the
paths, which had turned slushy in the sun, had now frozen up
and made walking treacherous. Along the way, we were joined
by Brandon Lazar, a Moroi who lived in Christian's hall.
Brandon could barely contain himself, recapping a fight he'd
witnessed in his math class. We listened to his rendition, all of
us laughing at the thought of Alberta sneaking in through the
window.
"Hey, she might be old, but she could take on almost any
of us," I told them. I gave Brandon a puzzled look. He had
bruises and red splotches on his face. He also had a few weird
welts near his ear. "What happened to you? Have you been
fighting guardians too?"
His smile promptly disappeared, and he looked away from
me. "Nah, just fell."
"Come on," I said. Moroi might not train to fight like
dhampirs did, but they got in brawls with each other just as
often as anyone else. I tried to think of any Moroi he might have
a conflict with. For the most part, Brandon was pretty likeable.
"That's the lamest, most unoriginal excuse in the world."
"It's true," he said, still avoiding my eyes.
"If someone's screwing with you, I can give you a few
pointers."
He turned back to me, locking eyes. "Just let it go." He
wasn't hostile or anything, but there was a firm note in his voice.
It was almost like he believed saying the words alone would
make me obey him.
I chuckled. "What are you trying to do? Compel me—"
Suddenly, I saw movement on my left. A slight shadow
blending in with the dark shapes of a cluster of snowy pine
trees—but moving just enough to catch my attention. Stan's face
emerged from the darkness as he sprang toward us.
Finally, my first test.
Adrenaline shot through me just as strongly as if a real
Strigoi were approaching. I reacted instantly, reaching out to
grab both Brandon and Christian. That was always the first
move, to throw my own life before theirs. I jerked the two guys
to a halt and turned toward my attacker, reaching for my stake in
order to defend the Moroi—
And that's when he appeared.
Mason.
He stood several feet in front of me, off to Stan's right,
looking just as he had last night. Translucent. Shimmering. Sad.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I froze, unable
to move or finish going for my stake. I forgot about what I'd
been doing and completely lost track of the people and
commotion around me. The world slowed down, everything
fading around me. There was only Mason—that ghostly,
shimmering Mason who glowed in the dark and seemed like he
so badly wanted to tell me something. The same feeling of
helplessness I'd experienced in Spokane returned to me. I hadn't
been able to help him then. I couldn't help him now. My
stomach turned cold and hollow. I could do nothing except stand
there, wondering what he was trying to say.
He lifted one translucent hand and pointed off toward the
other side of campus, but I didn't know what it meant. There was
so much over there, and it wasn't clear what he was pointing at. I
shook my head, not understanding but desperately wishing I
could. The sorrow on his face seemed to grow.
Suddenly, something slammed into my shoulder, and I
stumbled forward. The world suddenly started up again,
snapping me out of the dreamy state I'd just been in. I only
barely managed to throw out my hands in time to stop myself
from hitting the ground. I looked up and saw Stan standing over
me. "Hathaway!" he barked. "What are you doing?" I blinked,
still trying to shake off the weirdness of seeing Mason again. I
felt sluggish and dazed. I looked into Stan's angry face and then
glanced over at where Mason had been. He was gone. I turned
my attention back to Stan and realized what had happened. In
my distraction, I'd completely spaced while he'd staged his
attack. He now had one arm around Christian's neck and one
around Brandon's. He wasn't hurting them, but his point was
made.
"If I had been a Strigoi," he growled, "these two would be
dead."