Read The Golden Lily Online

Authors: Richelle Mead

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues, #Dating & Sex, #Friendship, #Fantasy & Magic

The Golden Lily (7 page)

“Eddie never trains me anymore,” she said wistfuly, as we watched the spectacle. Eddie was trying to patiently explain to Angeline that headbutting, while suitable in a bar brawl, was not always the best tactic with Strigoi.

“I’m sure he will if he gets more time,” I said, though I wasn’t sure at al. Now that he could admit his feelings for Jill to himself, he was nervous about touching her too much. That, and a chivalrous part of him didn’t want Jill risking herself anyway. It was ironic because Jil’s fierceness in wanting to learn self-defense (rare in a Moroi) was what had attracted him to her.

“Angeline was recruited as protection. He’s got to make sure she can handle it.”

“I know. I just feel like everyone’s trying to coddle me.” She frowned. “In PE, Micah won’t let me do anything. After I had all that trouble starting out, he’s now paranoid I’ll hurt myself. I keep teling him I’m fine, that it was just the sun … but wel, he keeps jumping in. It’s sweet … but it drives me crazy sometimes.”

“I’ve noticed it,” I admitted. I was in the same PE class. “I don’t think that’s why Eddie won’t train you, though. He knows you can do it. He’s proud that you can

… he just thinks that if you can do it. He’s proud that you can … he just thinks that if he’s doing his job, you shouldn’t have to learn. Kind of weird logic.”

“No, I get it.” Her earlier dismay shifted to approval as she turned back to the training session. “He’s so dedicated … and, wel, good at what he does.”

“The knee’s an easy way to disable someone,” Eddie told Angeline. “Especialy if you’re caught without a weapon and have to—”

“When are you going to teach me to stake or decapitate?” she interrupted, hands on her hips. “All the time, it’s hit here, dodge this, blah, blah, blah. I need to practice kiling Strigoi.”

“No, you don’t.” Eddie was the picture of patience and back in the determined, ready mode I knew so wel. “You’re not here to kill Strigoi. Maybe we can practice that at a later time, but right now, your priority is keeping mortal assassins away from Jil. That takes precedence over anything else, even our lives.” He glanced over at Jill for emphasis, and there was a flash of admiration in his eyes as he looked at her.

“Seems like decapitation would kill Moroi just the same,” Angeline grumbled. “And besides, you did have a Strigoi problem last month.” Jill shifted uneasily beside me, and even Eddie paused. It was true—he had had to kill two Strigoi recently, back when Adrian’s apartment had been Keith’s. Lee Donahue had led the Strigoi to us. He was a Moroi who’d once been Strigoi. After he was returned to his natural state, Lee had wanted desperately to was returned to his natural state, Lee had wanted desperately to become a Strigoi again. He was the reason we’d learned that those restored by spirit seemed to have some Strigoi resistance.

The two Strigoi he’d caled to help him had tried to convert him but ended up kiling him instead—a better fate than being undead, in my opinion.

Those Strigoi had then turned on the rest of us and inadvertently revealed something unexpected and alarming (if not to them, then to me). My blood was inedible.

They’d tried to drink from me and been unable to. With all the falout from that night, no one among the Alchemists or Moroi had paid much attention to that small detail—and I was grateful. I was terrified that one of these days someone would think to put me under a microscope.

“That was a fluke,” said Eddie at last. “Not one that’s likely to happen again. Now watch the way my leg moves, and remember that a Moroi will probably be taler than you.” He did a demonstration, and I cast a quick look at Jil. Her face was unreadable. She never talked about Lee, whom she’d dated briefly. Micah had gone a long way to distract her on the romantic front, but having your last boyfriend want to become a bloodthirsty monster couldn’t be an easy thing to get over. I had a feeling she was still in pain, even if she did a great job at hiding it.

“You’re too rigid,” Eddie told Angeline, after several attempts.

She completely relaxed her body, almost like a marionette.

“So, what? Like this?”

“So, what? Like this?”

He sighed. “No. You still need some tension.” Eddie moved behind her and attempted to guide her into position, showing her how to bend her knees and hold her arms.

Angeline took the opportunity to lean back into him and brush her body suggestively against his. My eyes widened. Okay.

Maybe he wasn’t imagining things.

“Hey!” He leapt backwards, a look of horror on his face.

“Pay attention! You need to learn this.” Her expression was pure angelic innocence. “I am. I’m just trying to use your body to learn what to do with mine.” So help me, she batted her eyelashes. Eddie moved back even farther.

I realized I should probably intervene, no matter what Eddie had said about handling his own problems. An even better savior came when the school’s thirty-minute warning bell rang. I jumped up.

“Hey, we should go if we want to get to breakfast in time.

Right now.”

Angeline gave me a suspicious look. “Don’t you usualy skip breakfast?”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one putting in a hard morning’s work.

Besides, you still need to change and—wait, you’re in your uniform?” I hadn’t even noticed. Whenever Eddie and Jill trained, it was always in casual workout clothes—just like he wore now. Angeline had actualy come out today in an Amberwood uniform, skirt and blouse, that were showing the wear and tear of a morning’s battle.

“Yeah, so?” She tucked in her blouse where it had started to

“Yeah, so?” She tucked in her blouse where it had started to come undone. The side of it was smudged with dirt.

“You should change,” I said.

“Nah. This is fine.”

I wasn’t so sure, but at least it was better than the jean shorts.

Eddie did leave to put on his uniform and never came back for breakfast. I knew he liked his breakfasts, and since he was a guy, he could change clothes pretty quickly. My guess was he was sacrificing food to stay away from Angeline.

I heard my name caled as we entered the cafeteria and caught sight of Kristin Sawyer and Julia Cavendish waving to me. Aside from Trey, they were the two closest friends I’d made at Amberwood. I still had miles to go in ever being socialy savvy, but those two had helped me a lot. And with all the supernatural intrigue my job involved, there was something comforting about being around people who were normal … and, wel, human.

Even if I couldn’t be fuly honest with them.

“Sydney, we have a fashion question for you,” Julia said. She tossed her blonde hair over one shoulder, her usual sign that what she was about to say was of utmost importance.

importance.

“A fashion question for me?” I was almost ready to glance back and see if maybe there was another Sydney standing behind me. “I don’t think anyone’s ever asked that.”

“You have realy nice clothes,” Kristin insisted. She had dark skin and hair, as well as an athletic air that contrasted with Julia’s more girly nature. “Too nice, actualy.

If my mom were ten years younger, cool, and had a lot more money, she’d dress just like younger, cool, and had a lot more money, she’d dress just like you.” I didn’t know if that was a compliment or not, but Julia didn’t give me a chance to ruminate.

“Tell her, Kris.”

“Remember that counseling internship I wanted next semester? I scored an interview,” Kristin explained. “I’m trying to decide if I should wear pants and a blazer or a dress.” Ah, that explained why they were coming to me. An interview.

Anything else they could have puled from a fashion magazine.

And while I could admit that I probably was the authority on such practical matters … wel, I was kind of disappointed that was what I’d been summoned for.

“What color are they?”

“The blazer’s red, and the dress is navy.” I studied Kristin, taking in her features. On her wrist was a scar, the remnant of an insidious tattoo I’d helped remove, back when Keith’s shady tattoo ring had run rampant. “Do the dress.

Wait … is it a dress you’d wear to church or to a nightclub?”

“Church,” she said, not sounding happy about it.

“Dress for sure then,” I said.

Kristin flashed a triumphant look at Julia. “See? I told you that’s what she’d say.” Julia looked doubtful. “The blazer’s more fun. It’s bright red.”

“Yeah, but ‘fun’ isn’t usualy what you want to portray at an interview,” I pointed out. It was hard to keep a straight face with their banter. “At least not for this kind of job.” Julia still didn’t seem convinced, but she also didn’t try to talk Kristin out of my sound fashion advice. A few moments later, Julia perked up. “Hey, is it true Trey set you up with some guy?” Julia perked up. “Hey, is it true Trey set you up with some guy?”

“I … what? No. Where’d you hear that?” Like I had to ask.

She’d undoubtedly heard it from Trey himself.

“Trey said he’d talked to you about it,” said Kristin. “How this guy’s perfect for you.”

“It’s a great idea, Syd,” said Julia, face as serious as if we were discussing a life or death matter. “It’d be good for you. I mean, since school started, I’ve gone out with …” She paused and silently counted out names on her fingers. “… four guys.

You know how many you’ve gone out with?” She held up a fist.

“That many.”

“I don’t need to go out with anyone,” I argued. “I have enough complications already. I’m pretty sure that would add more.”

“What complications?” laughed Kristin. “Your awesome grades, kiler body, and perfect hair? I mean, okay, your family’s a little out there, but come on, everyone has time for a date now and then—or lots, in Julia’s case.”

“Hey,” said Julia, though she didn’t deny the charge.

Kristin pushed forward, making me think she was more suited to a legal internship than a counseling one. “Skip homework for once. Give this guy a shot, and we can all go out together sometime. It’d be fun.”

I gave them a forced smile and murmured something non-committal. Everyone has time for a date now and then.

Everyone but me, of course. I felt a surprising pang of longing, not for a date but just for social interaction. Kristin and Julia went out a lot with a larger group of friends and love interests went out a lot with a larger group of friends and love interests and often invited me on their outings. They thought my reticence was because of homework or, perhaps, no suitable guy to go with me. I wished it were that simple, and suddenly, it was as though there was a huge chasm separating me from Kristin and Julia. I was their friend, and they had welcomed me to every part of their lives. Meanwhile, I was full of secrets and half truths.

Part of me wished I could be open with them and able to confide all the woes of my Alchemist life. Heck, part of me just wished I realy could go on one of these outings and let go of my duties for a night. It would never work, of course. We’d be out at a movie, and I’d probably get texted to come cover up a Strigoi slaying.

This mood wasn’t uncommon for me, and it began lightening as I started my school day. I fell into the rhythm of my schedule, comfortable in its familiarity.

Teachers always assigned the most work over weekends, and I was pleased to be able to turn in all that I’d done on my plane rides. Unfortunately, my last class of the day derailed all the progress of my mood. Actualy, class wasn’t the right word. It was an independent study I had with my history teacher, Ms. Terwiliger.

Ms. Terwiliger had recently revealed herself to be a magic user, a witch of sorts or whatever those people referred to themselves as. Alchemists had heard rumors of Ms. Terwiliger had recently revealed herself to be a magic user, a witch of sorts or whatever those people referred to themselves as. Alchemists had heard rumors of them, but it was nothing we had a lot of experience with or facts about. To our knowledge, only Moroi wielded magic. We utilized it in our lily tattoos—which had trace amounts of vampire blood—but the thought of humans producing it in the same way was crazy and twisted.

That was why it was such a surprise when Ms. Terwiliger not only revealed herself to me last month but also ended up kind of tricking me into wielding a spell. It had left me shocked and even feeling dirty. Magic was not for humans to use. We had no right to manipulate the world like that; it was a hundred times worse than what Sonya had done to the red lily on the street. Ms.

Terwiliger insisted I had a natural affinity for magic and had offered to train me. Why she wanted this, exactly, I wasn’t sure.

She’d gone on and on about the potential I had, but I could hardly believe she’d want to train me without a reason of her own. I hadn’t figured out what that might be, but it didn’t matter.

I’d refused her offer. So, she’d found a work-around.

“Miss Melbourne, how much longer do you think you’ll be on the Kimbal book?” she caled from her desk. Trey had picked up “Melbourne” from her, but unlike him, she seemed to constantly forget that wasn’t my actual name. She was in her forties, with mousy brown hair and a perpetualy cunning glint in her eyes.

I looked up from my work, forcing politeness. “Two more days. Three at most.”

“Make sure to translate all three of the sleep of spels,” she said. “Each has its own nuances.”

“There are four sleep spels in this book,” I corrected.

“Are there?” she asked innocently. “I’m glad to see they’re making an impression.”

making an impression.”

I hid a scowl. Having me copy and translate spell books for research was how she taught me. I couldn’t help but learn the texts as I read them. I hated that I’d been ensnared, but it was too late in the school year to transfer out. Besides, I could hardly complain to the administration that I was being forced to learn magic.

So, I dutifuly copied her spell books and spoke as little as possible during our time together. Meanwhile, I simmered with resentment. She was well aware of my discomfort but made no attempts to aleviate the tension, leaving us in a stalemate. Only one thing brightened those sessions.

“Look at that. It’s been nearly two hours since my last cappuccino. It’s a wonder I can function. Would you be kind enough to run to Spencer’s? That should finish us out for the day.” The last bell had rung fifteen minutes ago, but I’d been putting in some overtime.

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