I was vaguely aware that I was dreaming, but that knowledge did nothing to calm my racing heart as the smell of smoke and blood wrapped around me. Tears were streaming down my face like a waterfall, and I could barely breath, barely think—
"Liss." Someone was shaking my shoulders. Gently, yes, but still almost enough to wake me up for real. "Liss, wake up."
I was only sort of in our Oregon apartment—part of me was still in the car. "Andre," I whispered. "Oh, God."
"Liss, you aren't there anymore. Wake up." I opened my eyes and saw a familiar face. Rose. Her long, dark brown hair was sweaty and plastered to her face, and her chocolaty brown eyes were full of concern. She wrapped a tan arm around me, holding me close to her. "It's okay," she said. "Everything's okay."
"I had that dream," I told her.
"Yeah," she said. "I know." Of course she knew. Rose knew everything in my head, from nightmares to emotions. She flicked on the light between our beds, which brought Oscar, our housemate's cat, over to us. He didn't like Rose—most animals didn't—so he avoided her and nuzzled up against me. I was talking to Oscar in a sort of calming voice, as if he were the scared one, when Rose spoke next. "When did we last do a feeding?" I didn't say anything as Rose studied me, taking in my abnormally pale skin and the dark circles that I knew were under my eyes. "It's been, like…more than two days, hasn't it? Three? Why didn't you say anything?"
Because you're my best friend is what I wanted to say. You're my best friend and I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to see you weak and disoriented after I drink your blood. But I didn't say that, instead I avoided her eyes and said, "You were busy. I didn't want to—"
"Screw that," she said, as she sat down next to me, flipping her hair back so that her neck was exposed. Oscar jumped down onto the floor and darted away. "Come on. Let's do this."
"Rose," I began, but she cut me off.
"Come on. It'll make you feel better." I could recognize a losing battle when I saw one, so I opened my mouth, revealing the fangs that I almost always kept hidden. I could hear her heart race as I leaned toward her and let my teeth pierce the soft skin of her neck. She let out a slight gasp, but didn't pull away. Then a look of joy passed over her face. The endorphins that Moroi saliva contained were giving her a blissful high.
"You okay?" I asked shyly, pulling away. She looked okay—more than okay, really. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and looked down.
"I…yeah." She lay back on the bed, closing her eyes. "I just need to sleep it off. I'm fine."
"I'm going to get you something to eat," I declared. As I got up and went into the kitchen, I thought I heard her say something to the cat. I was just opening a can of chicken noodle soup when Rose burst into the kitchen. "You shouldn't be up," I told her.
"We have to go. Now." It took me a second to realize what she meant.
"Are you…really? Are you sure?" She nodded. Okay, I thought. If Rose said we had to leave, then I believed her. She was my best friend, and I would trust her with my life. In fact, I had trusted her with it. That was why we were here.
Our housemate, Jeremy—the owner of the cat—looked up at us from where he sat at the kitchen table. "What's wrong?" he asked. Rose crossed her arms over her chest.
"Liss," she said suddenly, "get his car keys."
"What are you—" Jeremy began, but I was already walking toward him. I was afraid, yes, but Rose would protect me. She always had, and I knew that she always would. Pushing those thoughts aside, I smiled what I knew to be a captivating smile, albeit one that hid my fangs. He stared at me for a few seconds, and I felt a sudden burst of fear—panic that it wasn't working, that I wouldn't be able to compel Jeremy. Then his eyes glazed over, and he looked at me like I was an angel out of heaven.
"We need to borrow your car," I said, keeping my voice as sweet and calm as I could. "Where are your keys?" He smiled again, then reached into his pocket and handed me a ridiculously large keychain. "Thank you," I said. "And where is it parked?"
"Down the street," he said, still not looking away from my jade-green eyes. "At the corner. By Brown."
"Thank you," I repeated. "As soon as we leave, I want you to go back to studying. Forget you ever saw us tonight." He nodded.
"Come on," Rose said, wrapping a hand around my arm. "We've got to move." It was warm outside, a lot warmer than Portland usually was in the fall. As we hurried toward Brown, I noticed that Rose was stumbling a little, still dizzy from my bite. I had to hold onto her arm to keep her from falling. Anxiety washed over me, wave after wave of panic hitting me like the waves of an ocean in a storm.
"Rose… what are we going to do if they catch us?"
"They won't," she said, an angry, protective glint in her eye. "I won't let them."
"But if they've found us—" I began.
"They found us before," she reminded me. "They didn't catch us then. We'll just drive over to the train station and go to L.A. They'll lose the trail." It sounded so easy when she said it, as if hiding from the guardians for the rest of our lives would be nothing to worry about. It wasn't going to be that easy, I knew, but we could do it. She could keep me safe. If there was one thing that I knew for sure, it was that.
And then I heard footsteps. "Do you hear that?" I asked. She frowned.
"We've got to run for it," she said, grabbing my arm.
"But you can't—"
"Run!" I didn't argue that time. She clung to me as we ran. She was stronger than me, and faster, but tonight, weakened by the blood loss and euphoria, I was actually running a little faster than her. On another occasion, I might have been proud.
I could see the car in front of us, so close but so far away. We could make it, I knew, and I kept repeating that to myself. And then a man came out in front of us. Rose pushed me behind her. Peering over her shoulder, I took in all six-foot-seven of the stranger and his leather duster. He was a Dampir, a half Moroi like Rose. That much was easy to tell. There were probably about a dozen more guardians around us, forming a circle, trapping us.
"Leave her alone," Rose growled. "Don't touch her." The man held up his hand the way that you might hold up your hand to calm a crazy animal.
"I'm not going to—" he began. But he took a step forward. A step toward me. And Rose wasn't going to take that. She jumped on him, sort of the way I might have imagined someone would tackle a bear. It didn't work, of course. This guardian bigger, taller, stronger, and unlike Rose, he had definitely been training regularly. He did some sort of strike that sent Rose flying through the air. She was going to hit the ground, I thought desperately. They were going to hurt Rose. But she didn't hit the ground. The guardian caught her. Yes, I hated him for catching us. Yes, if I were stronger I might have tried to hit him myself. But he hadn't hurt Rose. I saw his expression change slightly as he saw the puncture marks that my fangs had left on her neck. Of course, he was probably disgusted. A Dampir letting a Moroi drink from them was taboo. Scowling, she pulled her long hair over her shoulder so that the wound was covered.
Rose backed toward me again, obviously preparing to strike out at him again. "Rose," I whispered. "Don't." I thought calming thoughts, trying to placate her through our bond. She sagged slightly, the fight and blood loss catching up to her.
"My name is Dimitri Belikov," the guardian said in a calm voice that had an underlying Russian accent. "I have come to take you back to the academy, princess.