A sensible part of my brain asked me how I had ended up here.
Unfortunately, there wasn't much left to answer it, and the only response came from my soul, a little voice that told me I knew exactly how. Strigoi. There was nothing else in the world that could have possibly driven me to this place, and at this time. My heart thudded with each step I took and every part of me screamed to turn in run. After all this time, my first instinct was to run. A part of me smiled, but the feeling of bitter nostalgia wasn't even to bring the gesture to my lips.
Two weeks ago, I had left the Academy—and Lissa—behind and had set off on a journey that was likely to get me killed. I didn't care. My heart wouldn't have it any other way, and the tiny reminder forced my legs to keep pushing against my rational mind. It almost surprised me that I had ended up here so quickly, but then again, nothing could really surprise me anymore.
Should someone have told me a year ago that I would be hunting the man I loved in Siberia after had abandoning my best friend, I probably would have laughed at them. Well, I might have punched them first, but that didn't matter now. I had arrived in Russia days ago and had managed to slip my way into Siberia without running into anybody unexpected. Of course, without a Moroi at my side, I figured nobody would try to bother me. To most of the people I had come across, they took me to be one of them, just another normal human girl. A very lost, pretty human girl. That was it. It would occur to no one the blood I held in my veins, that I was a guardian bound to protect mortal vampires. A dhampir. Of course, I had shed the title of Dragomir guardian a long time ago.
Or, at least, it seemed like it had been a long time ago. I imagined what he would have said if he had known this was going to happen. Him. Would we have done something different? Could any of this been stopped? I had remotely summed up that I didn't believe so, and that was because whatever God there was happened to be a royal prick. There was no point in praying to Him now, because He obviously despised me. All those years of attending service half-heartedly and mocking His will was catching up with me, I supposed.
So I had been right—He had been waiting until my punishment was ideal.
Well, He had succeeded.
My whole world was shattered, my heart nonexistent now. There was nothing I could really live for, and when I finished my job, I didn't even know if it'd make a difference in the way I felt. Would I feel freer? Would I want to keep living?
I didn't let the questions get to me and I keep moving, each step taking me closer to my destination. Nothing could stop me now except myself, and possibly the words he would have been screaming at me. Or maybe he would have encouraged me, because I knew if he were in his right state of mind…he would want to be dead.
Dimitri.
My soul quivered at the sound of its other half, and I hesitated in taking my next step. I shook my head and kept going, all the while thinking of the person who had to be my soulmate. I had never really believed in stuff like that, but now it didn't sound corny or stupid. Just true. Dimitri was my soulmate. That was why I couldn't allow him to suffer anymore, even if he didn't know he was.
I had been told that once a human, dhampir, or Moroi turned, their entire personality altered. There were always small traces of the man or woman the Strigoi used to be, but all remorse, guilt, and conscience vanished. It was difficult for me to imagine a Dimitri who enjoyed killing, but I had to assure myself that the Dimitri who had loved me was gone. That Dimitri was dead. I had to kill the one who had taken his place.
As I kept walking, I thought about the situation in and of itself. Throughout the time I had known Dimitri, and more so, the time that I had fallen in love with him, I had never considered how different things would be if he hadn't been a guardian. If by circumstance, he had been a Moroi instead, no one would object to us being together, not even him. But if he had been born a Moroi, he wouldn't be the Dimitri I loved. All things taken into account, we probably would have never met.
And that was something I knew neither of us wanted to change.
Thinking of Dimitri as a Strigoi still made my world turn, and it was a thousand times worse than thinking about Mason had ever been. As it always would be, I couldn't find anyone to blame but myself—and the Strigoi, of course, but when was there ever something wrong that I couldn't blame on them? Mason had been one thing, but this was entirely another. I realized the irony of the situation and tilted my head in contemplative thought.
Mason had died because he had come back to rescue me—I'd have probably died had he now. Then…Dimitri had been turned into a Strigoi because I hadn't gone back for him. A logical part of me—the one that Dimitri had awakened during all our arguments and practices—told me that I had been ready to go back for Dimitri. It had been my mother who had told me not to.
If she hadn't, would it have made a difference?
With a flash of pure fury, I realized that it would have made all the difference.
My anger was focused on my mother, the one whom I had hated for years, and any chances of patching things up with her seemed stupid now. Dimitri would have told me not to blame my mother, that she had done the right thing in keeping me safe, but I didn't listen to his voice this time. If she hadn't been so keen on the rules, I wouldn't be here—I'd be back with Dimitri, preparing for my graduation.
Still, this was the way things were, and I managed to calm the black rage inside me. It had been easier since leaving Lissa to control myself, but it always made me guilty to think about it. Without anyone to heal her, what would happen to her? I had no clue, but then I thought of something entirely new and extraordinary—the thought actually made me blink in surprise.
The raven. I hadn't seen it since the troubles with Viktor, but I knew that it was just like me. Because of Lissa, that bird was just as shadow-kissed as I was, and it was bound to the Dragomir princess. The thought of a bird protecting Lissa now was ridiculous, but the idea seemed to calm me.
It fled when I stopped at my final point. I turned my gaze upward and found myself staring at a small two-story house. It looked abandoned, like it hadn't been used in ages, and I found myself wondering if I had been right in my guess.
It had taken me a long time to even fathom where Dimitri could possibly be, but my best bet was here. This house was pretty far from most civilization, and the closest town was the one that sanctioned the Siberian Moroi commune Dimitri's mother lived in. When I had visited there, I had been informed that this was the property that she owned, and so I had headed here. I didn't know what I'd fine, considering Dimitri had other family members who were still alive—his sisters and his grandmother, not just his mother. I wondered vaguely if he had ever told me what had happened to his father. I knew he had kicked his ass pretty hard, but I couldn't remember if Dimitri had ever mentioned killing him.
Realizing it didn't matter at this point, I wandered across the yard and let my feet heavily lift to each step of the porch. Wood creaked beneath my shoes, but I tried not to think about how it could break and collapse at any given moment. Before I knew it, I was cautiously opening the door to the worn down house and slipping inside.
I hadn't made a single noise, much like a ninja I thought wryly. Before I could let my thoughts carry off, though, I ducked down within the shadows, knowing that there wasn't much I could do to hide my presence from the Strigoi now. Their hearing and eyesight was by far better than any Moroi, let alone a dhampir's, so I simply waited.
It wasn't very long before nausea rose in my stomach and a faint press of darkness pushed against my skull. My senses and muscles alert, I watched the small stir of movement in the doorway nearest to me. As soon as the undead vampire moved into view, I leapt at her. It surprised him that I had known she was there, and there was nothing she could do to keep the silver stake in my hand from plunging into her chest. My mind registered the face, but it didn't keep me from hesitating: Molly.
By now, I was a perfect aim. The silver point of the blade drove through her skin and muscle before she could utter a sound, and then she slumped against me. I threw her aside and prepared myself for another attack.
It came from behind.
My head slammed against the wall that had previously been seven feet away and I staggered away from it dazedly. Before the Strigoi could get in another hit, my instincts kicked in, and I spun, dodging the lunge that had been made for me. I landed in a stance and held my stake at the ready. When the Strigoi turned to me, my heart chilled and I felt my eyes narrow to a dead point—red stared back at me mockingly.
"I wasn't able to get the Dragomir girl, but I guess I did pretty good anyway, huh?" the blonde snickered, eyes laughing at mine.
I knew they were on fire, just as every other part of me was burning. The white hot feeling spread through my entire being, like metal being heated. My grip on the silver stake tightened as I faced the Strigoi I most longed to kill—more than Dimitri, even, at this moment.
This was the one who had turned him. Turned Dimitri.
"I will kill you," I whispered, and the blonde tilted his head amusedly, apparently finding the threat empty. He had no idea. The skin at the back of my neck tickled, a reminder of just how many Strigoi had come before him.
"Not without your little firebug," he taunted, and at first, I had to wonder what he was talking about. Then I remembered the Strigoi attack and how Christian and I had made a defiant remark against Moroi not using their magic for offensive purposes. Him aiding me with his fire magic was one of the reasons I had killed so many Strigoi that night. "Without him, you're just as weak as any other novice in the Academy."
At this, I raised my eyebrows. This would be one of those moments Dimitri's eyebrow-thing would've been cool. A smile flickered in my mind at the thought of the old Dimitri, eyebrow quirked in that awesome badass way. It was gone immediately when I realized why the Dimitri I was thinking of was the "old Dimitri" now. I stopped the pointless wonderings and shook my head.
"You're more ignorant than me," I said, giving him a look of mock pity. There was nothing sorry about this Strigoi burning in hell.
"If you're talking about how you've killed before, that was just luck," the Strigoi told me, and I let my muscles coil without showing any preparation. He was distracted—the more he talked, the more he was satisfied with anger inside me. "You're a girl, a dhampir. Dhampir's are weak. You have no magic, and you're slower and weaker than us. Time to say goodbye for—"
His words were cut off, but not by me. I blinked and stared as his eyes went wide in shock, startled by something behind me. Whatever had him scared so bad, of course, couldn't be a liability to me, so I decided not to worry about it. I lunged forward and slipped the stake into his chest. It hit his heart and he gagged for a moment in another fit of surprise before his face went slack and he crumpled to the floor.
The Strigoi was dead, but I still felt nauseous—this time, it was an electric kind of nauseating. I didn't have to turn around to know why.
The silver stake was still in my hand, and my gaze was still fixed on the blonde Strigoi at my feet. Blood dripped from the end of my stake, pattering on the wooden floor. It was the only sound, but I strained to hear something else. When fighting a Strigoi, there was always more to it than this—screams, laughter, taunting snide remarks, etc…
But not this time. No. The only thing that came…was his touch.
The sensation it shot through me was like ice fire and I tensed immediately as freezing skin lightly brushed my own. I was aware of fingers sliding across my upper arm, near my elbow, and in fact, it was the only thing I was aware of. The same feeling came to my other arm, and then the fingers were gripping me lightly, slowly moving up and down my arms.
I admitted to myself that I had been curious. Like I said before, every Strigoi was mercilessly and evil, but there was always a hint of the personality of who the vampire had been before they turned. Now, I was experiencing what kind of Strigoi he was… So far, he hadn't killed me, and I had to admit that it was actually kind of like him. He always did what he was supposed to, made sure he did his job immediately—but not with me. With me, he broke the rules. With me…he took his time.
Something brushed my shoulder lightly, softly. I shuddered involuntarily as his lips moved up to my jaw, and then my cheek. He never kissed me, but it was teasingly similar. His lips lightly grazed my neck and my breath hitched—it made him chuckle.
"Hello, Roza," he whispered, and squeezed my arms lightly.
I shivered violently at the sound of his laugh—whether it was evil or not, I still loved it—and the way he said my name. He always used the Russian version of my name when he was being affectionate or serious, but now, as a Strigoi, he was playing with me—or so I thought. My eyes widened slightly when he pulled me against his chest and finally pressed a kiss to the side of my neck. It made my insides melt. There was a small stirring in my chest, a flutter from the heart that had died.
"I missed you," he murmured, and I couldn't help the shock that coiled inside me. Was he simply screwing with me? Obviously. I wouldn't let myself hope anything else. When I didn't respond, he nudged the place between my jaw and my neck lightly with his nose and said in that delightfully husky way, "You seem upset."
"Of course I am," I answered, surprised when I heard how calm and reasonable my voice was. Before, I would have screamed and thrown a fit, but now that seemed silly. Stupid. He would have been proud. In fact, I was shocked again when I discovered he still was.
"But you're not yelling," he said softly, and raised his head to kiss the top of my head gently. "You've grown so much, Roza."
"Why aren't you trying to kill me?" I asked him. There was no hesitation in his answer.
"I don't want to," he said simply, and continued to touch me affectionately, but never trying to instigate any passion. They were sweet little things that would have had me in heaven had it been in that cabin or even in the gym back at the Academy—now they just confused me.
"Why?" I asked, and made a tiny gesture to the Strigoi at our feet. "I killed your comrades."
"I would have done the same should he have touched you," he whispered, and my eyes narrowed. Why wasn't he acting…evil? This didn't make any sense. Dimitri paused and then released one of my hands to gently touch my forehead. I winced at the contact, the sore spot aching dully beneath the effects of my adrenaline. "Of course, I suppose he already did."
"Of course he did," I answered, and sighed when he replaced his hand on my arm and rested a head on my shoulder, asking me why "of course" in a quiet voice. If I didn't know any better, I would have said that his tone was sad. My next words explained why even that was crazy. "He's a Strigoi."
There was a long silence that came after my answer. It was absolutely shocking that Dimitri was showing any traces of a conscience left over from his dhampir soul. Could he really be the same kind of creature that had killed Mason? He wasn't acting like it, and I knew that he had to be fighting it or something—but he wasn't. He was simply being Dimitri.
"You hate me."
The shock that coiled inside me caused me to spin around and stare at him, ready to deny his claim. It was like it had been before, at the Academy, trying to reassure each other that we were in love and everything would be okay. And then I froze, staring upward into those dark brown eyes I loved so much. But my gaze was on something else: red. A thin line of crimson circled Dimitri's pupil, making the brown of his iris seem even warmer in comparison to the black. It was proof that he was a Strigoi—but he wasn't acting like it.
"What are you?" I asked, and that tiny, rare smile formed on his lips as he returned my stare.
"You know what I am," he replied sadly. I gave him a bewildered look and he chuckled again, a new kind of light sparking in his eyes. He leaned down and touched my forehead with his.
"Then why are you acting so much like yourself?" I asked, and he blinked at me.
"I don't know," he replied, and I knew it was the honest answer. "I do know that I can't go into the sunlight, and I thirst for blood every day. I'm not a dhampir anymore, Roza. I do know that."
It was then I realized that neither of us wanted to say it. Neither of us would say just what he was. I shook my head at him.
"This doesn't make any sense," I said, and then he smiled. My brow furrowed at the odd sight, because it was unfamiliar. It wasn't Dimitri's smile.
"It doesn't have to," he whispered huskily, and I sucked in a deep breath and held it as he moved his face closer to mine. A hungry, animal look was in his eyes now and it held me as easily as Lissa's compulsion. "What matters is that you're here. I'm here. You came for me, didn't you, Roza? I had a feeling you would."
"No, you knew I would," I corrected, and his smile grew—no, it was more of a smirk, I realized. Like one of Christian's.
"I know you want to be with me," he whispered, and brushed his lips against mine. My eyelids fluttered for a second, but I managed to keep my eyes open. "Stay with me, Roza. Be mine forever."
Forever.
It was enough to snap me out of my daze and I shook my head furiously for a moment, staring at him in shock.
"What?" I gasped, and he tilted his head, that tiny smirk gracing his features. He looked so much like a god, and I figured I'd rather have Dimitri for one rather than the son of a bitch who had put me in this mess. But, the word "forever" still rang in my mind. "What are you talking about?"
"I don't want to live without you," he murmured, and then looked thoughtful for a moment. He then shrugged and smirked at me again. "As much as one like me can live. But you know what I mean, don't you?"
It wasn't really a question, just a way to let myself confirm that I knew exactly what he was talking about. Dimitri was a Strigoi—immortal. He could live forever, and…he didn't want to do it…without…me.
"I can't do that," I whispered, horrified that he would ask such a thing. Then I remembered that this wasn't Dimitri. Sure, I had seen glimpses of him, but Strigoi instinct and survival was his top priority now. Turning me would be the same as doing his job. "You know I can't."
"Yes you can," he said, and then gave me a look of both longing and hunger. "Don't you want to?"
"No, of course—"
"Don't you love me?"
His interruption left me open-mouthed, my lips parted in mid-sentence. He was staring at me expectantly, that luring look in his eyes still there, but it wasn't alone. With it came a look not of desire, but of loneliness and need. He needed me. I had always figured Dimitri was lonely. It was one of the reasons he loved me, because I understood him so easily and made him feel like he wasn't alone. But…did I still love him? My answer shocked me. With it, came a sense of duty.
"Yes."
There was that smile again, and I let my eyes close as he leaned down the rest of the way and pressed his mouth to mine. The kiss was the exact same as I remembered it was, hot and sweet, primal and loving all at once. I reveled in it and kissed him back, letting the kiss deepen as his left hand traveled up to touch my hair. He loved my hair so much, even after everything that had happened to him. It was sad that it was this nostalgic, loving gesture that freed my right hand. When we parted, it was reluctantly, but necessary.
He gave me another endearing look, and I could see the look in his eyes, as if confirming the meaning behind my answer. He leaned forward, pressing the side of his face to mine affectionately, and I returned the gesture as his fingers twisted my hair absent-mindedly. His lips were at my ear when he whispered to me.
"I will always love you, Roza," he told me, and I shut my eyes, my heart thudding painfully. "You are my everything. I love you so much. So much…"
As he whispered those sweet things to me, he moved slowly downward. He lips traced the line from my ear, past my jaw to the sweet pulse in my neck. He circled the pulse point for a moment and the kissed it. I felt a smile on his lips, and I knew then that it wasn't that stupid smirk—it was the smile I would miss.
Then I felt the tips of his fangs graze my neck, tickling my skin lightly. I shivered for a moment, but then firmly stood my ground. His next words made my heart sink.
"I will never abandon you, Rose."
"I know," I answered, and then I closed my eyes. The feeling of cold silver awakened my instincts, and I tightened my grip on the round hilt of my stake.
In another second, it was embedded in his heart.
Complete shock registered on his face for a moment and he stumbled a single step back so he could stare down at the silver hilt protruding from his chest. His lips trembled for a second, as if he were about to say something, head tilted curiously to the side at it. For a moment, it looked like it hadn't even done anything, and then a flicker of pain flashed across his eyes. He brought his gaze up to mine, and I saw him fighting it, the muscles at his throat working anxiously. I bit my lip in remorse, regret, and agony as he leaned against me for a moment, staring into my eyes. His breathing was labored now as he tried to speak—he needed to say something. He was fighting his eternal death. And then he smiled my favorite smile and brushed his lips against mine once more.
"Thank you."
That whisper echoed in my ears, and then he shut his eyes for a final time and went limp. I fell to the floor the same time he did, and I let out a sob. When I reached out to remove the stake, I noticed I was trembling horribly and it made my chest jerk again. I pulled the stake out cleanly and set it to the side. Then, I placed my hands on either side of Dimitri's beautiful face and leaned over him, cradling his head.
Tears came before I could even think about stopping them, and then I was weeping. It was a nonstop current of tears that rained from my eyes, and each one landed on his face. It irritated me, so I consistently wiped the tears with my thumbs, sobbing as I took in each of his features.
With Dimitri so cold, so lifeless in my arms, I felt like the world had stopped spinning. There was no Lissa or Christian, no Eddie or Mason, no Academy—there was no Moroi or Strigoi, and there sure as hell weren't any stupid dhampirs. It was only me, and the love of my life, dead.
It was worse than knowing he'd been turned, and that surprised me. Still, my soul was in too much pain to take into account how much his life had meant to me. It felt as though every part of me had been ripped open, and an overwhelming amount of darkness consumed me as I cried, as I held his head in my lap. I didn't want to live without him, either. I loved him.
"I love you, Dimitri," I whispered, and leaned down to kiss his lips, and then his forehead. When I raised my head, I realized how serene and peaceful he looked. He didn't seem happy or anything, but he was definitely content with being dead. He'd rather be dead than be a Strigoi—a small part of him had still felt that way.
And I knew then exactly how I felt.
For the next few minutes—it could've been hours, really—I held Dimitri's head in my hands and thought about everything. I thought about how Lissa could be happy with Christian and how my mother had never needed me. The Academy and the queen had certainly made it clear that I was nothing but a nuisance. Slowly, my hand inched toward the silver stake at my side. My fingers curled around it, my body shaking as I brought it into my line of sight. I closed my eyes, and placed the tip of it to my heart.
Then I thought about Dimitri.
I opened my eyes again slowly and remembered every word he'd ever said to me. Every time he'd ever said he loved me, and the times he said he'd die to protect me. I was more important than any Moroi to him. My life was more important than his. He loved me. He would always love me. And despite how selfish I was being, he would never leave me. He was with me. Always.
"Always."
I wasn't all that surprised when I heard his voice, and though I thought I really was crazy for a second, I still brought my head up to look in the doorway. There he was, shimmering and translucent. I had never considered his ghost would still be around once he died. I knew it had taken him effort to speak, but it didn't look like it when my eyes met his sad ones. It wasn't the same sad as Mason's had been. It was a look that told me he didn't want to see me like this—my life was more important that his to him.
"You don't want me to be with you, do you?" I asked, and he gave me one of those looks that told me my words were double-sided. A tiny smile twitched at my lips and he returned the gesture fully. It surprised me, that he could still smile, but then I said, "You want me to live."
He nodded, his smile reaching his eyes.
I complied and set the stake aside. As I did so, I looked from the ghost to his body, and then back at the spirit. His smile had taken on a sadder form, and I realized he was looking at himself, too. I wondered if he thought he was as gorgeous as I always had. Then I shook my head.
"But I'm supposed to be dead anyway," I argued pointlessly. His body trembled with a silent laugh—we both knew I would do as he wished. I sighed, and felt tears come to me. "But it isn't fair. I love you."
The only thing he could do was nod as an answer: I love you, too.
"You can't always be with me," I said, and he tilted his head challengingly. I knew him so well, I knew what he was saying: Oh, can't I? "Remember? You can't stay for more than forty days."
Then he shook his head and smiled.
I understood then. Whereas Mason had always been sad about losing his life, Dimitri was not entirely. Even if we could no longer hold or kiss each other, we could finally be together this way. Being shadow-kissed allowed me to love him that much longer. As for the forty days…Mason had stayed longer, because I had needed him. It would be hard, or at least I figured it would be, but Dimitri would fight living this realm—just as he had fought the instincts of a Strigoi.
He hadn't killed me then.
He wouldn't leave me now.
Plus, there were many spirits who stuck around if they still had something to say. I remembered back at the airport how all of those ghosts had smothered me with their presence. I thought about whom I'd seen. Andre. Lissa's parents. They had been dead for nearly three years now, and they were still here. Dimitri would be around for a long time.
I knew this. We both did, and then I smiled a real smile for the first time in a long time. I took one last look at his beautiful body and then leaned down to kiss those lips one last time. He didn't seem to mind, because when I gently removed his body and stood, stake gathered in its sheath, he had his eyes closed in a peaceful state of contentment. I wondered for a moment if he had been able to feel the kiss, and when he opened his eyes, I realized I couldn't tell. Either he had, or he'd been able to imagine it.
This would be odd, but there wasn't much I could do about that. It occurred to me the possibility of used Lissa to bring Dimitri back to life, but I knew she wouldn't do it. A part of me bristled with anger, but a patient look from Dimitri's ghost set my emotions straight. I didn't agree with Lissa, but that was beside the point. Even if she did bring him back, we didn't know if he'd awaken as a dhampir or as a Strigoi.
I decided it might be worth the risk, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. I smiled at Dimitri again and nodded, telling him I'd be okay knowing he was with me. He returned the nod and then the image shimmered and disappeared. I took a deep breath, reassuring myself that he was still there, just like every other spirit, and I moved on.
There was still a lot I had to do, 'cause hey, I was a guardian. I was Lissa's guardian.
I had to make sure it stayed that way.
So, I am the biggest fan of DimXRose. However, Mead had to make the book a tragedy, so I just had to go with this. I know it's probably out of character or whatever, and I just finished reading Shadow Kiss, so I'm pretty anxious for Blood Promise to be finished. Anyway, I hate the fact that Dimitri was turned into a Strigoi, and I really don't want him to die, but this was actually a pretty neat idea. It was really obvious that Mead was going to make Dimitri turn into a Strigoi from the first book, so it didn't hit me too hard - just hard enough for me to write this fanfiction. I hope you all like it, since it's my first one for this series. Review and tell me what you think.
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