“Okay.” She stood up and tossed some cash on the table. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She started to walk away and then glanced back at me. “Oh, and you can have the rest of my fries.”
When I first came to Russia, I stayed in youth hostels. I’d certainly had the money to stay elsewhere, but I wanted to remain under the radar. Besides, luxury hadn’t really been the first thing on my mind. When I began going to the Nightingale, however, I found I could hardly return to a boarding house of backpacking students while wearing a designer dress.
So I was now staying at a posh hotel, complete with guys who always held the doors open and a marble-floored lobby. That lobby was so big that I think an entire hostel could have fit in it. Maybe two hostels. My room was large and overdone too, and I was grateful to reach it and change out of the heels and dress. I realized with only a small pang of regret that I’d have to leave the dresses I’d bought in Saint Petersburg behind. I wanted to keep my luggage light while jaunting around the country, and even if my backpack was large, there was only so much I could carry. Oh well. Those dresses would make some cleaning woman’s day, no doubt. The only bit of ornamentation I really needed was my
nazar
, a pendant that looked like a blue eye. It had been a gift from my mother, which had in turn been a gift from my father. I always wore it around my neck.
Our train for Moscow left late in the morning, and we would then catch a cross-country train to Siberia. I wanted to be well rested and ready for it all. Once in my pajamas, I snuggled under the bed’s heavy comforter and hoped sleep would come soon. Instead, my mind spun with all the things that had happened recently. The Sydney situation was a bizarre twist but one I could handle. As long as we stuck to public transportation, she could hardly lead me into the clutches of her mysterious superiors. And from what she’d said about our travel time, it would indeed only take a couple of days or so to reach the village. Two days seemed both impossibly long and impossibly short.
It meant I could very well be confronting Dimitri in a few days . . . and then what? Could I do it? Could I bring myself to kill him? And even if I decided I could, would I actually have the skill to overpower him? The same questions that I’d been asking myself for the last two weeks kept plaguing me over and over. Dimitri had taught me everything I knew, and with enhanced Strigoi reflexes, he would truly be the god I’d always joked he was. Death was a very real possibility for me.
But worrying wasn’t helpful right now and, looking over at the clock in the room, I discovered I’d been lying awake for almost an hour. That was no good. I needed to be in peak condition. So I did something I knew I shouldn’t do, but which always worked to get my mind off my worries—largely because it involved me being in someone else’s mind.
Slipping inside Lissa’s head required only a small amount of concentration on my part. I hadn’t known if I could do it when we were far apart, but I’d discovered the process was no different than if I were standing right beside her.
It was late morning back in Montana, and Lissa had no classes today since it was Saturday. During my time away, I’d worked very hard to put up mental walls between us, almost completely blocking her and her feelings out. Now, inside her, all the barriers were down, and her emotions hit me like a tidal wave. She was pissed off. Really pissed off.
“Why does she think she can just snap her fingers and get me to go anywhere she wants, anytime she wants?” Lissa growled.
“Because she’s the queen. And because you made a deal with the devil.”
Lissa and her boyfriend, Christian, were lounging in the attic of the school’s chapel. As soon as I recognized the surroundings, I nearly pulled out of her head. The two of them had had way too many “romantic” encounters up here, and I didn’t want to stick around if clothes were going to be ripped off soon. Fortunately—or perhaps not—her annoyed feelings told me there’d be no sex today, not with her bad mood.
It was kind of ironic, actually. Their roles were reversed. Lissa was the raging one while Christian remained cool and collected, trying to appear calm for her sake. He sat on the floor, leaning up against the wall, while she sat in front of him, his legs apart and his arms holding her. She rested her head on his chest and sighed.
“For the last few weeks, I’ve done everything she’s asked! ‘Vasilisa, please show this stupid visiting royal around campus.’ ‘Vasilisa, please jump on a plane for the weekend so that I can introduce you to some boring officials here at Court.’ ‘Vasilisa, please put in some volunteer time with the younger students. It looks good.’” Despite Lissa’s frustration, I couldn’t help a little amusement. She had Queen Tatiana’s voice down perfectly.
“You would have done that last one willingly,” Christian pointed out.
“Yeah . . . the point being
willingly
. I hate her trying to dictate every part of my life lately.”
Christian leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Like I said, you made a deal with the devil. You’re her darling now. She wants to make sure you’re making her look good.”
Lissa scowled. Although Moroi lived inside human-run countries and were subject to those governments, they were also ruled by a king or queen who came from one of the twelve royal Moroi families. Queen Tatiana—an Ivashkov—was the current ruler, and she’d taken a particular interest in Lissa as the last living member of the Dragomir family. As such, Tatiana had cut Lissa a deal. If Lissa lived at Court after graduating from St. Vladimir’s, the queen would arrange for her to attend Lehigh University in Pennsylvania. Lissa was a total brain and thought living in Tatiana’s household would be worth it to attend a semi-big, prestigious university, as opposed to the tiny ones Moroi usually went to (for safety reasons).
As Lissa was finding out, though, the strings attached to that deal were already in place now. “And I just sit and take it,” Lissa said. “I just smile and say ‘Yes, your majesty. Anything you want, your majesty.’”
“Then tell her the deal’s off. You’ll be eighteen in a couple of months. Royal or not, you’re under no obligations. You don’t need her to go to a big school. We’ll just take off, you and me. Go to whatever college you want. Or don’t go to college at all. We can run off to Paris or something and work at a little café. Or sell bad art on the streets.”
This actually made Lissa laugh, and she snuggled closer to Christian. “Right. I can totally see you having the patience to wait on people. You’d be fired your first day. Looks like the only way we’ll survive is if I go to college and support us.”
“There are other ways to get to college, you know.”
“Yeah, but not to any that are this good,” she said wistfully. “Not easily, at least. This is the only way. I just wish I could have all this and stand up to her a little. Rose would.”
“Rose would have gotten herself arrested for treason the first time Tatiana asked her to do something.”
Lissa smiled sadly. “Yeah. She would have.” The smile turned into a sigh. “I miss her so much.”
Christian kissed her again. “I know.” This was a familiar conversation for them, one that never grew old because Lissa’s feelings for me never faded. “She’s okay, you know. Wherever she is, she’s okay.”
Lissa stared off into the attic’s darkness. The only light came from a stained-glass window that made the whole place look like a fairyland. The space had been recently cleaned out—by Dimitri and me, actually. It had only been a couple of months ago, but already, dust and boxes were accumulating once more. The priest here was a nice guy but kind of a pack rat. Lissa noticed none of this, though. Her thoughts were too focused on me.
“I hope so. I wish I had some idea—any idea—where she is. I keep thinking that if anything happened to her, if she—” Lissa couldn’t finish the thought. “Well, I keep thinking that I’d
know
somehow. That I’d feel it. I mean, I know the bond’s one-way . . . that’s never changed. But I’d have to know if something happened to her, right?”
“I don’t know,” said Christian. “Maybe. Maybe not.” Any other guy would have said something overly sweet and comforting, assuring her that yes, yes,
of course
she’d know. But it was part of Christian’s nature to be brutally honest. Lissa liked that about him. So did I. It didn’t always make him a pleasant friend, but at least you knew he wasn’t bullshitting you.
She sighed again. “Adrian says she’s okay. He visits her dreams. I’d give anything to be able to do that. My healing’s getting better and better, and I’ve got the aura thing down. But no dreams yet.”
Knowing Lissa missed me hurt almost more than if she’d completely written me off. I’d never wanted to hurt her. Even when I’d resented her for feeling like she was controlling my life, I’d never hated her. I loved her like a sister and couldn’t stand the thought of her suffering now on my behalf. How had things gotten so screwed up between us?
She and Christian continued sitting there in comfortable silence, drawing strength and love from each other. They had what Dimitri and I had had, a sense of such oneness and familiarity that words often weren’t needed. He ran his fingers through her hair, and while I couldn’t see it so well through her own eyes, I could imagine the way that pale hair would gleam in the rainbow light of the stained-glass windows. He tucked several long locks behind her ear and then tipped her head back, bringing his lips down to hers. The kiss started off light and sweet and then slowly intensified, warmth spreading from his mouth to hers.
Uh-oh,
I thought. It might be time to take off after all. But she ended it before I had to.
“It’s time,” she said regretfully. “We’ve got to go.”
The look in Christian’s crystal-blue eyes said otherwise. “Maybe this is the perfect time for you to stand up to the queen. You should just stay here—it’d be a great way to build character.”
Lissa lightly elbowed him and then planted a kiss on his forehead before standing up. “That is
not
why you want me to stay, so don’t even try to play me.”
They left the chapel, and Christian mumbled something about wanting to do more than play that earned him another elbow. They were heading toward the administration building, which was in the heart of the upper school’s campus. Aside from the first blushes of spring, everything looked like it had when I’d left—at least on the outside. The stone buildings remained grand and imposing. The tall, ancient trees continued their watch. Yet, inside the hearts of the staff and students, things had changed. Everyone carried scars from the attack. Many of our people had been killed, and while classes were up and running again, everyone still grieved.
Lissa and Christian reached their destination: the administration building. She didn’t know the reason for her summoning, only that Tatiana had wanted her to meet some royal guy who had just arrived at the Academy. Considering how many people Tatiana was always forcing her to meet lately, Lissa didn’t think too much of it. She and Christian stepped inside the main office, where they found Headmistress Kirova sitting and chatting with an older Moroi and a girl about our age.
“Ah, Miss Dragomir. There you are.”
I’d gotten in trouble with Kirova a lot while I’d been a student, yet seeing her now made me feel kind of nostalgic. Getting suspended for starting a fight in class seemed worlds better than traipsing through Siberia to find Dimitri. Kirova had the same birdlike appearance she’d always had, the same glasses balanced at the end of her nose. The man and girl stood up, and Kirova gestured to them.
“This is Eugene Lazar and his daughter Avery.” Kirova turned back toward Lissa. “This is Vasilisa Dragomir and Christian Ozera.”
A fair bit of sizing up went on then. Lazar was a royal name, but that was no surprise since Tatiana had initiated this meeting. Mr. Lazar gave Lissa a winning smile as he shook her hand. He seemed a bit surprised to meet Christian, but the smile stayed. Of course, that kind of reaction to Christian wasn’t so unusual.
The two ways to become Strigoi were by choice or by force. A Strigoi could turn another person—human, Moroi, or dhampir—by drinking their blood and then feeding Strigoi blood back to them. That was what had happened to Dimitri. The other way to become Strigoi was unique to Moroi—and it was done by choice. Moroi who purposely chose to kill a person by drinking blood would also turn Strigoi. Usually, Moroi only drank small, nonlethal amounts from willing humans. But taking so much that it destroyed another’s life force? Well, that turned Moroi to the dark side, taking away their elemental magic and transforming them into the twisted undead.
That was exactly what Christian’s parents had done. They’d willingly killed and become Strigoi to gain eternal life. Christian had never shown any desire to become Strigoi, but everyone acted as though he were about to. (Admittedly, his snarky attitude didn’t always help.) A lot of his close family—despite being royal—had been unfairly shunned as well. He and I had teamed up to kick a fair amount of Strigoi ass during the attack, though. Word of that was getting around and improving his reputation.
Kirova was never one to waste time with formalities, so she got straight to the point. “Mr. Lazar is going to be the new headmaster here.”
Lissa had still been smiling at him politely, but her head immediately jerked toward Kirova. “
What?
”
“I’m going to be stepping down,” explained Kirova, voice flat and emotionless enough to rival any guardian’s. “Though I’ll still be serving the school as a teacher.”
“
You’re
going to teach?” Christian asked incredulously.
She gave him a dry look. “Yes, Mr. Ozera. It was what I originally went to school for. I’m sure if I try hard enough, I can remember how to do it.”
“But why?” asked Lissa. “You do a great job.”
It was more or less true. Despite my disputes with Kirova—usually over me breaking rules—I still had a healthy respect for her. Lissa did too.