Blood Promise (51 page)

“Thanks,” I said.

I took it from her and looked at it. My name and St. Vladimir’s address were printed in neat writing, which I found odd, since my arrival here had been sudden. There was no return address, but it bore Russian postmarks and delivery through global overnight mail.

“Do you know who it’s from?” Lissa asked once the woman was gone.

“I don’t know. I met a lot of people in Russia.” It could have been from Olena, Mark, or Sydney. Yet . . . something I couldn’t quite explain set my senses on high alert.

I tore open one side and reached in. My hand closed around something cold and metallic. I knew before I even pulled it out what it was. It was a silver stake.

“Oh God,” I said

I rolled the stake around, running my finger over the engraved geometric pattern at its base. There was no question. One-of-a-kind. This was the stake I’d taken from the vault in Galina’s house. The one I’d—

“Why would someone send you a stake?” asked Lissa.

I didn’t answer and instead pulled out the envelope’s next item: a small note card. There, in handwriting I knew all too well, was:

“Oh,” I said, nearly dropping the card. “This is not good.”

The world spun for a moment, and I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. For the hundredth time, I ran through the events of the night I’d escaped from Dimitri. Every other time, my emotions and attention were always on the look on his face when I stabbed him, the sight of his body falling into that black water. Now my mind summoned up the details of the struggle. I recalled how his last-minute dodge had interfered with my shot at his heart. For a moment out there, I hadn’t thought I’d gotten the stake in hard enough—until I’d seen his face go slack and watched him fall.

But I really
hadn’t
gotten the stake in hard enough. My first instinct had been right, but things had happened too fast. He’d fallen . . . and then what? Had the stake been loose enough to fall out on its own? Had he been able to pull it out? Had the river’s impact knocked it out?

“All those practice dummies, all for nothing,” I muttered, recalling how Dimitri had drilled me over and over to plunge a stake into the chest so it would get past the ribs and into the heart.

“Rose,” exclaimed Lissa. I had a feeling this wasn’t the first time she’d said my name. “What’s going on?”

The most important staking of my life . . . and I had messed it up. What would happen now?
Looks like we’ll have to go over the lesson again the next time I see you—which will be soon.

I didn’t know what to feel. Despair that I hadn’t released Dimitri’s soul and fulfilled the promise I’d secretly made to him? Relief that I hadn’t killed the man I loved? And always, always that question: Would he have said he loved me if we’d had a few moments more?

I still had no answers. My emotions were running crazy, and I needed to put them on hold and analyze what I knew here.

First: two and a half months. I’d promised my mom two and a half months. No action until then.

Meanwhile, Dimitri was still out there, still a Strigoi. As long as he was loose in the world, there would be no peace for me. No closure. Looking at that card again, I realized I would have no peace even if I tried to ignore him. I understood the card’s message.

Dimitri was coming for
me
this time. And something told me that I had blown my chance at being turned Strigoi. He was coming to kill me. What had he said when I escaped the manor? That there was no way we could both be alive in the world?

And yet, maybe we could. . . .

When I didn’t answer her right away, Lissa’s worry grew. “Your face is freaking me out a little. What are you thinking?”

“Do you believe in fairy tales?” I asked, looking up into her eyes. Even as I said the words, I could imagine Mark’s disapproval.

“What . . . what kind of fairy tales?”

“The kind you aren’t supposed to waste your life on.”

“I don’t understand,” she said. “I’m totally lost. Tell me what’s going on. What can I do?”

Two and a half months. I had to stay here for two and a half months—it seemed like forever. But I’d promised my mom that I would, and I refused to be rash again—particularly with the stakes so high now. Promises. I was drowning in promises. I’d even promised Lissa something.

“Did you mean it before? You want to go with me on my next crazy quest? No matter what?”

“Yes.” There was no uncertainty or hesitation in the word, no wavering in her steady green eyes. Of course, I wondered if she’d feel the same way later when she found out what it was we were going to do.

I’d pondered that earlier, trying to figure out what could get Victor Dashkov to talk. Victor had told Abe there was nothing anyone could offer that would make him give up the information about his brother’s alleged ability to restore Strigoi. Victor was serving a life sentence; no bribe could matter to him anymore. But one thing could, I realized. Freedom. And there was only one way to achieve that.

We were going to have to break Victor Dashkov out of prison.

But I decided not to mention that to Lissa quite yet.

All I knew for now was that I had a fleeting shot at saving Dimitri. Mark had said it was a fairy tale, but I had to take the chance. The question was: how long did I have until Dimitri came to kill me? How long did I have to figure out if the impossible was actually possible? That was the real issue. Because if Dimitri showed up before I had a chance to find the dragon in this story—Victor—things were going to get ugly. Maybe this whole Robert thing was one big lie, but even if it wasn’t . . . well, the clock was ticking. If Dimitri came for me before I could get to Victor and Robert, I’d have to fight him again. No question. I couldn’t wait for this magical cure. I’d have to kill Dimitri for real this time and lose any chance I might have to bring back my prince. Damn.

It’s a good thing I work well under pressure.