I leaned my seat as far back as it would let me. The passenger behind me let out an agitated sigh but I didn't have the energy to even turn and glare at him.
We had only been in the sky a good ten minutes when I was once again plagued with one of my spirit-induced migraines. But this time, I came prepared; somehow I had managed to sneak a small package of lower tabs through the Helena Airport security. As soon as the pain started up, I had promptly swallowed the pills, and now I felt a good nap was in order.
The pain in my mind wasn't just from the bombardments of spirits, however. The harrowing events of the past weeks had left me exhausted and hollow. I still found it hard to believe that Dimitri, my Dimitri, had become Strigoi. It seemed unfathomable than anything, living or undead, could have ever defeated him. I tried to find loopholes in the information ghostly Mason had given me, that he wasn't dead, but not alive, yet I could find none.
And the look on Lissa's face as I left, that continued to haunt me as well. Before I truly knew my love for Dimitri, I had thought nothing, repeat, nothing, could tear me and Lissa apart. Yet here I was, on a plane to Russia, intentionally putting thousands of miles between me and my best friend. The friend I had dedicated my life to protecting, now in someone else's hands. The friend who had brought me back from the dead, thus creating our inseverable mental bond.
But as much as leaving her hurt, the thought of Dimitri living as the thing he hated most hurt more. I could never let him live like that, in the form his true self was devoted to destroying. As he had told me before, Strigoi were evil, and no longer the person they were in life. They were warped caricatures, only a twisted version of their former selves. He said he'd rather die than be that. And in my mind, I vowed to release him from that state, knowing that death could be the only real peace for him now.
I fell asleep as the plane glided through the sky. I didn't dream, and I was thankful for that. No memories to replay, no scolding visits from Adrian that would surely only bring guilt.
There was a layover in Seattle, and after nearly an hour of sitting in the crowded airport, I finally boarded my plane to Saint Petersberg. I had no real leads on where Dimitri could have gone, but my gut feeling was that he returned to his homeland. And as many a teacher had once told me, in between scoldings, that is, always go with your gut feeling. And I also happened to know that Dimitri's mother lived in a community with other dhampirs in a suburb of St. Petersberg. Some called it a blood whore community, but I knew better than to jump to conclusions. Communities populated by single dhampir women often got these bad reputations, even if said illicit activities aren't going on.
Asleep on the plane again, I had an unfortunately fitful sleep. I dreamt I was facing Dimitri, dhampir versus strigoi. I had my stake in one hand and was one arm thrust away from doing the deed when he whispered "I thought you loved me, Roza. Why would you kill me if you loved me?" The words caused me to falter, and in that milliseceond, he had the upperhand and grabbed me by the throat. In the dream, Dimitri looked down at me with cold red eyes, smiling cruelly. He brought his face close to mine. "Poor, little Rose. All our training gone to waste. Not that you would have been any good as a Guardian. All those pathetic Moroi shall die. But don't worry, my love. I'll awaken you, too." Just as he reached down to sink his teeth into my neck, the captain began talking loudly over the intercom and I awoke with a jolt.
The announcement stated we were getting close to the airport, and I righted my seat and fastened my seatbelt again. My heart still beat fast from the dream and sweat beaded my brow. What if the same thing happend? What if the time came to confront Dimitri and I couldn't do it? All the love and emotion that swam within me for him could easily make me vuanerable towards him. They always had. Like a prayer, I kept reciting in my mind that he wasn't Dimitri anymore. I silently chanted it, hoping that by the time I had to face him, it will have sunken in.