So, we all stood there watching poor Dimitri bleed. It was kind of sick, really, but the test worked. It was obvious to everyone that the cut wasn’t going anywhere. Lissa was finally given leave to heal it, and that caused a bigger reaction among the crowd. Murmurs of wonder surrounded me, and those enraptured goddess-worshipping looks showed on people’s faces.
Reece glanced at the crowd. “Does anyone have any questions to add to ours?”
No one spoke. They were all dumbfounded by the sights before them.
Well, someone had to step forward. Literally.
“I do,” I said, striding toward them.
No, Rose
, begged Lissa.
Dimitri wore an equally displeased look. Actually, so did almost everyone sitting near him. When Reece’s gaze fell on me, I had a feeling he was seeing me in the Council room all over again, calling Tatiana a sanctimonious bitch. I put my hands on my hips, not caring what they thought. This was my chance to force Dimitri to acknowledge me.
“When you
used to be
Strigoi,” I began, making it clear that I believed that was in the past, “you were very well connected. You knew about the whereabouts of lots of Strigoi in Russia and the U.S., right?”
Dimitri eyed me carefully, trying to figure out where I was going. “Yes.”
“Do you still know them?”
Lissa frowned. She thought I was going to inadvertently implicate Dimitri as still being in contact with other Strigoi.
“Yes,” he said. “So long as none of them have moved.” The answer came more swiftly this time. I wasn’t sure if he’d guessed my tactic or if he just trusted that my Rose-logic would go somewhere useful.
“Would you share that information with the guardians?” I asked. “Would you tell us all the Strigoi hideouts so that we could strike out against them?”
That got a reaction. Proactively seeking Strigoi was as hotly debated as the other issues going around right now, with strong opinions on all sides. I heard those opinions reiterated behind me in the crowd, some people saying I was suggesting suicide while others acknowledged we had a valuable tool.
Dimitri’s eyes lit up. It wasn’t the adoring look he often gave Lissa, but I didn’t care. It was similar to the ones we used to share, in those moments where we understood each other so perfectly, we didn’t even need to vocalize what we were thinking. That connection flashed between us, as did his approval—and gratitude.
“Yes,” he replied, voice strong and loud. “I can tell you everything I know about Strigoi plans and locations. I’d face them with you or stay behind—whichever you wanted.”
Hans leaned forward in his chair, expression eager. “That could be invaluable.” More points for Hans. He was on the side of hitting out at Strigoi before they came to us.
Reece flushed—or maybe he was just feeling the sun. In their efforts to see if Dimitri would burn up in the light, the Moroi were exposing themselves to discomfort. “Now hold on,” Reece exclaimed over the increasing noise. “That has never been a tactic we endorse. Besides, he could always lie—”
His protests were cut off by a feminine scream. A small Moroi boy, no more than six, had suddenly broken from the crowd and run toward us. It was his mother who had screamed. I moved in to stop him, grabbing his arm. I wasn’t afraid that Dimitri would hurt him, only that the boy’s mother would have a heart attack. She came forward, face grateful.
“I have questions,” the boy, obviously trying to be brave, said in a small voice.
His mother reached for him, but I held up my hand. “Hang on a sec.” I smiled down at him. “What do you want to ask? Go ahead.” Behind him, fear flashed over his mother’s face, and she cast an anxious look at Dimitri. “I won’t let anything happen to him,” I whispered, though she had no way of knowing I could back that up. Nonetheless, she stayed where she was.
Reece rolled his eyes. “This is ridic—”
“If you’re Strigoi,” the boy interrupted loudly, “then why don’t you have horns? My friend Jeffrey said Strigoi have horns.”
Dimitri’s eyes fell not on the boy but on me for a moment. Again, that spark of knowing shot between us. Then, face smooth and serious, Dimitri turned to the boy and answered, “Strigoi don’t have horns. And even if they did, it wouldn’t matter because I’m not Strigoi.”
“Strigoi have red eyes,” I explained. “Do his eyes look red?”
The boy leaned forward. “No. They’re brown.”
“What else do you know about Strigoi?” I asked.
“They have fangs like us,” the boy replied.
“Do you have fangs?” I asked Dimitri in a singsong voice. I had a feeling this was already-covered territory, but it took on a new feel when asked from a child’s perspective.
Dimitri smiled—a full, wonderful smile that caught me off guard. Those kinds of smiles were so rare from him. Even when happy or amused, he usually only gave half smiles. This was genuine, showing all his teeth, which were as flat as those of any human or dhampir. No fangs.
The boy looked impressed. “Okay, Jonathan,” said his mother anxiously. “You asked. Let’s go now.”
“Strigoi are super strong,” continued Jonathan, who possibly aspired to be a future lawyer. “Nothing can hurt them.” I didn’t bother correcting him, for fear he’d want to see a stake shoved through Dimitri’s heart. In fact, it was kind of amazing that Reece hadn’t already requested that. Jonathan fixed Dimitri with a piercing gaze. “Are
you
super strong? Can you be hurt?”
“Of course I can,” replied Dimitri. “I’m strong, but all sorts of things can still hurt me.”
And then, being Rose Hathaway, I said something I really shouldn’t have to the boy. “You should go punch him and find out.”
Jonathan’s mother screamed again, but he was a fast little bastard, eluding her grasp. He ran up to Dimitri before anyone could stop him—well, I could have—and pounded his tiny fist against Dimitri’s knee.
Then, with the same reflexes that allowed him to dodge enemy attacks, Dimitri immediately feinted falling backward, as though Jonathan had knocked him over. Clutching his knee, Dimitri groaned as though he were in terrible pain.
Several people laughed, and by then, one of the other guardians had caught hold of Jonathan and returned him to his near-hysterical mother. As he was being dragged away, Jonathan glanced over his shoulder at Dimitri. “He doesn’t seem very strong to me. I don’t think he’s a Strigoi.”
This caused more laughter, and the third Moroi interrogator, who’d been quiet, snorted and rose from his seat. “I’ve seen all I need to. I don’t think he should walk around unguarded, but he’s no Strigoi. Give him a real place to stay and just keep guards on him until further decisions are made.”
Reece shot up. “But—”
The other man waved him off. “Don’t waste any more time. It’s hot, and I want to go to bed. I’m not saying I understand what happened, but this is the least of our problems right now, not with half the Council wanting to rip the other half’s heads off over the age decree. If anything, what we’ve seen today is a good thing—miraculous, even. It could alter the way we’ve lived. I’ll report back to Her Majesty.”
And like that, the group began dispersing, but there was wonder on some of their faces. They too were beginning to realize that if what had happened to Dimitri was real, then everything we’d ever known about Strigoi was about to change. The guardians stayed with Dimitri, of course, as he and Lissa rose. I immediately moved toward them, eager to bask in our victory. When he’d been “knocked over” by Jonathan’s tiny punch, Dimitri had given me a small smile, and my heart had leapt. I’d known then that I’d been right. He did still have feelings for me. But now, in the blink of an eye, that rapport was gone. Seeing me walk toward them, Dimitri’s face grew cold and guarded again.
Rose
, said Lissa through the bond.
Go away now. Leave him alone.
“The hell I will,” I said, both answering her aloud and addressing him. “I just furthered your case.”
“We were doing fine without you,” said Dimitri stiffly.
“Oh yeah?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You seemed pretty grateful a couple minutes ago when I thought up the idea of you helping us against Strigoi.”
Dimitri turned to Lissa. His voice was low, but it carried to me. “I don’t want to see her.”
“You have to!” I exclaimed. A few of the departing people paused to see what the racket was about. “You can’t ignore me.”
“Make her go away,” Dimitri growled.
“I’m not—”
ROSE!
Lissa shouted in my head, shutting me up. Those piercing jade eyes stared me down.
Do you want to help him or not? Standing here and yelling at him is going to make him even more upset! Is that what you want? Do you want people to see that? See him get mad and yell back at you just so you don’t feel invisible? They need to see him calm. They need to see him . . . normal. It’s true—you did just help. But if you don’t walk away right now, you could ruin everything.
I stared at them both aghast, my heart pounding. Her words had all been in my mind, but Lissa might as well have strode up to me and chewed me out aloud. My temper shot up even more. I wanted to go rant at both of them, but the truth of her words penetrated through my anger. Starting a scene would not help Dimitri. Was it fair that they were sending me away? Was it fair that the two of them were teaming up and ignoring what I’d just done? No. But I wasn’t going to let my hurt pride screw up what I’d just achieved. People had to accept Dimitri.
I shot them both looks that made my feelings clear and then stormed away. Lissa’s feelings immediately changed to sympathy through the bond, but I blocked them out. I didn’t want to hear it.
I’d barely cleared the church’s grounds when I ran into Daniella Ivashkov. Sweat was starting to smudge her beautifully applied makeup, making me think she’d been out here for a while watching the Dimitri-spectacle too. She appeared to have a couple friends with her, but they kept their distance and chatted amongst themselves when she stopped in front of me. Swallowing my anger, I reminded myself she’d done nothing to piss me off. I forced a smile.
“Hi, Lady Ivashkov.”
“Daniella,” she said kindly. “No titles.”
“Sorry. It’s still a weird thing.”
She nodded toward where Dimitri and Lissa were departing with his guards. “I saw you there, just now. You helped his case, I think. Poor Reece was pretty flustered.”
I recalled that Reece was related to her. “Oh . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t apologize. Reece is my uncle, but in this case, I believe in what Vasilisa and Mr. Belikov are saying.”
Despite how angry Dimitri had just made me, my gut instinct resented the dropping of his “guardian” title. Yet I could forgive her, considering her attitude.
“You . . . you believe Lissa healed him? That Strigoi can be restored?” I was realizing there were lots of people who believed. The crowd had just demonstrated as much, and Lissa was still building her following of devotees. Somehow, my line of thinking always tended to assume all royals were against me. Daniella’s smile turned wry.
“My own son is a spirit user. Since accepting that, I’ve had to accept a lot of other things I didn’t believe were possible.”
“I suppose you would,” I admitted. Beyond her, I noticed a Moroi man standing near some trees. His eyes occasionally fell on us, and I could have sworn I’d seen him before. Daniella’s next words turned my attention back to her.
“Speaking of Adrian . . . he was looking for you earlier. It’s short notice now, but some of Nathan’s relatives are having a late cocktail party in about an hour, and Adrian wanted you to go.” Another party. Was that all anyone ever did here at Court? Massacres, miracles . . . it didn’t matter. Everything was cause for a party, I thought bitterly.
I’d probably been with Ambrose and Rhonda when Adrian went searching. It was interesting. In passing on the invitation, Daniella was also saying that she wanted me to go. Unfortunately, I had a hard time being as open to it. Nathan’s family meant the Ivashkovs, and they wouldn’t be so friendly.
“Will the queen be there?” I asked suspiciously.
“No, she has other engagements.”
“Are you sure? No unexpected visits?”
She laughed. “No, I’m certain of it. Rumor has it that you two being in the same room together . . . isn’t such a good idea.”
I could only imagine the stories going around about my Council performance, particularly since Adrian’s father had been there to witness it.
“No, not after that ruling. What she did . . .” The anger I’d felt earlier began to blaze again. “It was unforgivable.” That weird guy by the tree was still waiting around. Why?
Daniella didn’t confirm or deny my statement, and I wondered where she stood on the issue. “She’s still quite fond of you.”
I scoffed. “I have a hard time believing that.” Usually, people who yelled at you in public weren’t too “fond” of you, and even Tatiana’s cool composure had cracked near the end of our spat.
“It’s true. This will blow over, and there might even be a chance for you to be assigned to Vasilisa.”
“You can’t be serious,” I exclaimed. I should have known better. Daniella Ivashkov didn’t really seem like the joking type, but I really did believe I’d crossed the line with Tatiana.
“After everything that’s happened, they don’t want to waste good guardians. Besides, she doesn’t want there to be animosity between you.”
“Yeah? Well, I don’t want her bribery! If she thinks putting Dimitri out there and dangling a royal job is going to change my mind, she’s wrong. She’s a lying, scheming—”
I stopped abruptly. My voice had gone loud enough that Daniella’s nearby friends were now staring. And I really didn’t want to say the names I thought Tatiana deserved in front of Daniella.
“Sorry,” I said. I attempted civility. “Tell Adrian I’ll come to the party . . . but do you really want me to go? After I crashed the ceremony the other night? And after, um, other things I’ve done?”