“I don’t,” I told her. Cautiously, I inched the foot back in, slowly followed by the rest of my body. When I got to my stomach, I grimaced. I had on a maroon bikini, and the scalding water caught my stomach by surprise.
“You must know him a little. He invited you to a party.”
“Yeah, but do you see him with us now?”
She followed my gaze. Adrian stood on the far side of the room with a group of girls in bikinis much smaller than mine. One was a Betsey Johnson suit I’d seen in a magazine and coveted. I sighed and looked away.
We’d all slipped into the water by then. It was so hot I felt like I was in a soup kettle. Now that Lissa seemed convinced of my innocence with Adrian, I tuned into the others’ discussion.
“What are you talking about?” I interrupted. It was easier than listening and figuring it out myself.
“The meeting,” said Mason excitedly. Apparently, he’d gotten over seeing me and Adrian together.
Christian had settled onto a small shelf in the pool. Lissa curled up beside him. Putting a proprietary arm around her, he tipped his back so it rested on the edge.
“Your boyfriend wants to lead an army against the Strigoi, ” he told me. I could tell he was saying it to provoke me.
I looked at Mason questioningly. It wasn’t worth the effort to challenge the “boyfriend” comment.
“Hey, it was
your
aunt who suggested it,” Mason reminded Christian.
“She only said we should find the Strigoi before they find us again,” countered Christian. “She wasn’t pushing for novices fighting. That was Monica Szelsky.”
A waitress came by then with a tray of pink drinks. These were in elegant, long-stemmed crystal glasses with sugared rims. I had a strong suspicion the drinks were alcoholic, but I doubted anyone who made it into this party was going to get carded. I had no idea what they were. Most of my experiences with alcohol had involved cheap beer. I took a glass and turned back to Mason.
“You think that’s a good idea?” I asked him. I sipped the drink, cautiously. As a guardian in training, I felt like I should always be on alert, but tonight I once again felt like being rebellious. The drink tasted like punch. Grapefruit juice. Something sweet, like strawberries. I was still pretty sure there was alcohol in it, but it didn’t appear strong enough for me to lose sleep over.
Another waitress soon appeared with a tray of food. I eyed it and recognized almost nothing. There was something that looked vaguely like mushrooms stuffed with cheese, as well as something else that looked little round patties of meat or sausage. As a good carnivore, I reached for one, thinking it couldn’t be that bad.
“It’s foie gras,” said Christian. There was a smile on his face I didn’t like.
I eyed him warily. “What’s that?”
“You don’t know?” His tone was cocky, and for once in his life, he sounded like a true royal touting his elite knowledge over us underlings. He shrugged. “Take a chance. Find out.”
Lissa sighed in exasperation. “It’s goose liver.”
I jerked my hand back. The waitress moved on, and Christian laughed. I glared at him.
Meanwhile, Mason was still hung up on my question about whether novices going to battle before graduation was a good idea.
“What else are we doing?” he asked indignantly. “What are
you
doing? You run laps with Belikov every morning. What’s that doing for you? For the Moroi?”
What was that doing for me? Making my heart race and my mind have indecent thoughts.
“We aren’t ready,” I said instead.
“We’ve only got six more months,” piped in Eddie.
Mason nodded his agreement. “Yeah. How much more can we learn?”
“Plenty,” I said, thinking of how much I’d picked up from my tutoring sessions with Dimitri. I finished my drink. “Besides, where does it stop? Let’s say they end school six months early, then send us off. What next? They decide to push back further and cut our senior year? Our junior year?”
He shrugged. “I’m not afraid to fight. I could have taken on Strigoi when I was a sophomore.”
“Yeah,” I said dryly. “Just like you did skiing on that slope.”
Mason’s face, already flushed from the heat, turned redder still. I immediately regretted my words, particularly when Christian started laughing.
“Never thought I’d live to see the day when I agreed with you, Rose. But sadly, I do.” The cocktail waitress came by again, and both Christian and I took new drinks. “The Moroi have got to start helping us defend
themselves
.”
“With magic?” asked Mia suddenly.
It was the first time she’d spoken since we’d got here. Silence met her. I think Mason and Eddie didn’t respond because they knew nothing about fighting with magic. Lissa, Christian, and I did—and were trying very hard to act like we didn’t. There was a funny sort of hope in Mia’s eyes, though, and I could only imagine what she’d gone through today. She’d woken up to learn her mother was dead and then been subjected to hours and hours of political bantering and battle strategies. The fact that she was sitting here at all seeming semi-composed was a miracle. I assumed people who actually liked their mothers would barely be able to function in that situation.
When no one else looked like they were going to answer her, I finally said, “I suppose. But . . . I don’t know much about that.”
I finished the rest of my drink and averted my eyes, hoping someone else would take up the conversation. They didn’t. Mia looked disappointed but said no more when Mason switched back to the Strigoi debate.
I took a third drink and sank into the water as far as I reasonably could and still hold the glass. This drink was different. It looked chocolatey and had whipped cream on top. I took a taste and definitely detected the bite of alcohol. Still, I figured the chocolate probably diluted it.
When I was ready for a fourth drink, the waitress was nowhere in sight. Mason seemed really, really cute to me all of a sudden. I would have liked a little romantic attention from him, but he was still going on about Strigoi and the logistics of leading a strike in the middle of the day. Mia and Eddie were nodding along with him eagerly, and I got the feeling that if he decided to hunt Strigoi right now, they’d follow. Christian was actually joining the talk, but it was more to play devil’s advocate. Typical. He thought a sort of preemptive strike would require guardians
and
Moroi, much as Tasha had said. Mason, Mia, and Eddie argued that if the Moroi weren’t up to it, the guardians should take matters into their own hands.
I confess, their enthusiasm was kind of contagious. I rather liked the idea of getting the drop on Strigoi. But in the Badica and Drozdov attacks, all of the guardians had been killed. Admittedly the Strigoi had organized into huge groups and had help, but all that told me was that our side needed to be extra careful.
His cuteness aside, I didn’t want to listen to Mason talk about his battle skills anymore. I wanted another drink. I stood up and climbed over the edge of the pool. To my astonishment, the world started spinning. I’d had that happen before when I got out of baths or hot tubs too quickly, but when things didn’t right themselves, I realized those drinks might have been stronger than I thought.
I also decided a fourth wasn’t such a good idea, but I didn’t want to get back in and let everyone know I was drunk. I headed off toward a side room I’d seen the waitress disappear into. I hoped maybe there was a secret stash of desserts somewhere, chocolate mousse instead of goose liver. As I walked, I paid special attention to the slippery floor, thinking that falling into one of the pools and cracking my skull would definitely cost me coolness points.
I was paying so much attention to my feet and trying not to stagger that I walked into someone. To my credit, it’d been his fault; he’d backed into me.
“Hey, watch it,” I said, steadying myself.
But he wasn’t paying attention to me. His eyes were on another guy, a guy with a bloody nose.
I’d walked right into the middle of a fight.
FOURTEEN
T
WO GUYS I’D NEVER MET before were squaring off against each other. They looked to be in their twenties, and neither noticed me. The one who’d bumped into me shoved the other one hard, forcing him to stagger back considerably.
“You’re afraid!” yelled the guy by me. He had on green swimming trunks, and his black hair was slicked back with water. “You’re all afraid. You just want to hole up in your mansions and let the guardians do your dirty work. What are you going to do when they’re all dead? Who’ll protect you then?”
The other guy wiped the blood off his face with the back of his hand. I suddenly recognized him—thanks to his blond highlights. He was the royal who’d yelled at Tasha about wanting to lead Moroi to battle. She’d called him Andrew. He tried to land a hit and failed; his technique was all wrong. “This is the safest way. Listen to that Strigoi-lover, and we’ll
all
be dead. She’s trying to kill our whole race off!”
“She’s trying to save us!”
“She’s trying to get us to use black magic!”
The “Strigoi-lover” had to be Tasha. The non-royal guy was the first person outside of my little circle whom I’d ever heard speak in her favor. I wondered how many others out there shared his view. He punched Andrew again, and my base instincts—or maybe the punch—made me leap into action.
I sprang forward and wedged myself between them. I was still dizzy and a bit unsteady. If they hadn’t been standing so close, I probably would have fallen over. They both hesitated, clearly caught off guard.
“Get out of here,” snapped Andrew.
Being male and Moroi, they had greater height and weight than I, but I was probably stronger than either one alone. Hoping I could make the most of that, I grabbed each of them by the arm, pulled them toward me, and then shoved them away as hard as I could. They staggered, not having expected my strength. I staggered a little too.
The non-royal glared and took a step toward me. I was counting on the fact that he’d be old-fashioned and not hit a girl. “What are you doing?” he exclaimed. Several people had gathered and were watching excitedly.
I returned his glare. “I’m trying to stop you guys from being any more idiotic than you already are! You want to help? Stop fighting each other! Ripping each other’s heads off isn’t going to save the Moroi unless you’re trying to thin stupidity out of the gene pool.” I pointed at Andrew. “Tasha Ozera is
not
trying to kill everyone off. She’s trying to get you to stop being a victim.” I turned to the other guy. “And as for you, you’ve got a long ways to go if you think this is the way to get your point across. Magic—especially offensive magic—takes a lot of self-control, and so far, you aren’t impressing me with yours.
I
have more than you do, and if you knew me at all, you’d know how crazy that is.”
The two guys stared at me, stunned. I was apparently more effective than a taser. Well, at least for several seconds I was. Because once the shock of my words wore off, they went at each other again. I got caught in the crossfire and shoved away, nearly falling in the process. Suddenly, from behind me, Mason came to my defense. He punched the first guy he could—the non-royal.
The guy flew backward, falling into one of the pools with a splash. I yelped, remembering my earlier fear about skull-cracking, but a moment later, he found his feet and rubbed water out of his eyes.
I grabbed Mason’s arm, trying to hold him back, but he shrugged me off and went after Andrew. He shoved Andrew hard, pushing him into several Moroi—Andrew’s friends, I suspected—who seemed to be trying to break up the fight. The guy in the pool climbed out, fury written all over his face, and made moves toward Andrew. This time, both Mason and I blocked his way. He glared at all of us.
“Don’t,” I warned him.
The guy clenched his fists and looked as though he might try to take us on. But we were intimidating, and he didn’t appear to have an entourage of friends here like Andrew— who was shouting obscenities and being led away—did. With a few muttered threats, the non-royal backed off.
As soon as he was gone, I turned on Mason. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Huh?” he asked.
“Jumping into the middle of that!”
“You jumped in too,” he said.
I started to argue, then realized he was right. “It’s different, ” I grumbled.
He leaned forward. “Are you drunk?”
“
No
. Of course not. I’m just trying to keep you from doing something stupid. Just because you have delusions of being able to kill a Strigoi doesn’t mean you have to take it out on everyone else.”
“Delusions?” he asked stiffly.
I started to feel kind of nauseous just then. My head spinning, I continued toward the side room, hoping I didn’t stumble.
But when I reached it, I saw that it wasn’t some kind of dessert or drink room after all. Well, at least not in the way I’d been thinking. It was a feeder room. Several humans reclined on satin-covered chaise lounges with Moroi by their sides. Jasmine incense burned in the air. Stunned, I watched with an eerie fascination as a blond Moroi guy leaned forward and bit into the neck of a very pretty redhead. All of these feeders were exceptionally good-looking, I realized just then. Like actresses or models. Only the best for royalty.
The guy drank long and deep, and the girl closed her eyes and parted her lips, an expression of pure bliss on her face as Moroi endorphins flooded into her bloodstream. I shivered, taken back to when I too had experienced that same kind of euphoria. In my alcohol-hazed mind, the whole thing suddenly seemed startlingly erotic. In fact, I almost felt intrusive—like I was watching people have sex. When the Moroi finished and licked the last of the blood away, he brushed his lips against her cheek in a soft kiss.