There was a knock on the door. It startled me for several reasons. The first, I was not expecting anyone, the second, I did not sense their aura as I usually did when we had guests and the third, we lived in a very rural province of Siberia. Unexpected visitors were very uncommon. I turned towards the kitchen window where I saw my husband, busy in the garden, completely oblivious. The soft light of the setting sun made him glow. I smiled. For a moment I even wondered if I had heard the knock at all. My thoughts were shattered when I heard the knock again. This time, my husband looked up and met my gaze. He had heard it too. His eyes told me to stay where I was as he quickly approached. I didn't listen and we both made our way, cautiously towards the front door. I noticed that he held a silver stake in his hand. Where it had materialized from, I hadn't a clue. I was immediately glad that he was my guardian as well as my husband. He gently pulled me behind him as he gripped the doorknob, his first instinct would always be to protect me, and then, he opened it.
"Hello, Lissa," the visitor greeted. He was Moroi, and American. I realized that and it surprised me. It surprised me further that I couldn't see his aura. I didn't recognize him, but no one had called me Lissa in ages. I stared at him curiously. He was probably a little older than me, maybe around my husbands age, and his careless smirk and casual expression did look familiar. I gasped in recognition. Suddenly, memories from my childhood, memories from when I was in school, and memories of her flooded to my mind. I cried out in Russian and ran to embrace him. My husband stepped aside. Whether he knew who this man was or not, I didn't know, but he seemed to trust my judgment enough to hide the stake behind his back.
"Adrian," I breathed, "What are you doing here?" I asked incredulously in English. I hadn't seen him in nearly a decade. The memory of the last time I'd seen him brought a very painful stab to my heart. I stepped aside and welcomed the man into our house. He smiled serenely. I could feel the joy radiating from him as he looked at me. He glanced over at my husband and his gaze settled on his face.
"Demitri," he greeted my husband. It was not a kind greeting, only polite. Demitri smiled grimly and nodded at him. I could see pain in my husband's expression and then in a flash, it was gone. I stared at him curiously, and then I remembered. Rose. Of course Demitri knew Adrian. Not only did he know him, Adrian was probably bringing back very painful memories of Rose.
"Vasya," Demitri said, pulling me out of my thoughts. I focused on him, "I'm going to be in the kitchen," he said meaningfully. He meant he was going to be around the corner and would be back in a heartbeat if I needed him for anything. He must have deduced that Adrian wasn't a threat to me. I nodded.
"Thank you, Dimka," I said fondly. I touched his cheek with my hand and stared deep into his eyes, trying to heal the pain that I knew he was feeling. He kissed my hand and then, he was gone. I gestured for Adrian to sit in the living room. He obliged. I sat across from him and studied him for a while. He looked almost the same as he always had, his brown hair was a careful, untidy mess and his eyes were full of the playful twinkle he always held. He was wearing very ordinary Russian clothing which surprised me, completely opposite the Adrian I had known. Something twanged in my stomach as I began to wonder why he was here. He must have purposely sought us out, sought me out, but for what reason?
"Vasya? Dimka? You would almost think that you two were a perfect little Russian family," Adrian joked. I made a face. He hadn't changed.
"Don't be mean," I scolded, he sighed, still smiling.
"Ah, Lissa," he said, I waited, expecting him to elaborate, but he didn't. We sat there, quietly, listening to the clock tick by on the mantle. I wanted to pretend that this was just a normal visit from an old friend, that there was no ulterior motive, but I knew Adrian.
"Adrian," I said. I seemed to snap him out of some sort of reverie. He stared at me, his eyes wide, as if he didn't recognize me for a second, then, the confusion was gone. I thought for a second, maybe it was my imagination.
"There's something I need to ask you, cousin," he said. I straightened my posture. His tone was very serious, a tone I hardly recognized Adrian to have. I knew that this was why he came, and I braced myself. I could feel Demitri's presence in the kitchen. He also, was probably holding his breath. "I need you to heal someone for me,"
I sat back in my chair, my mind churning. It must be very important to Adrian for him to search us out for this request. Demitri had made certain that we would be nearly impossible to find here. Adrian must have gone through painstaking avenues to find us. Yes, this must be very important to him indeed. Another thought ran through my head, why couldn't Adrian heal them himself? By the time Dimitri and I disappeared, Adrian was very much improving in his healing abilities. There were few wounds, short of death that he couldn't heal.
"You want me," I repeated. Adrian smirked and I held my hand up, stopping him before the sarcastic comment could roll off of his tongue. "Please explain more," at my request his expression changed. He did genuinely look pained.
"I can't," he said, I almost thought he was joking. Surely he didn't expect me to go back with him with such little information. I just stared at him in silence. I crossed my arms over my chest. He leaned back in his chair. After a while I reached into my pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. The surprise on Adrian's face was comical as I lit it and took a long drag. "When did you start smoking?" I offered him one and he declined. I was equally shocked.
"When did you stop?" I asked, blowing smoke out of the side of my mouth. Smoking was a habit I had picked up since I moved here. It was calming. It was relaxing, and I found, I could heal the damage that it did to my lungs.
"She asked me to," he said quietly, glancing away from me. I froze. I remembered now. That was so long ago. It seemed like a completely different lifetime. Rose hated smoking. I hadn't thought of that when I started. I smiled, picturing her expression if she could see me smoking now. The smile was wiped off my face as another image entered my head. Her expression if she knew I was married to Demitri. Her Demitri.
"I haven't healed in a long time, Adrian," I said. I was shaking my head now, puffing lightly on my cigarette. He nodded his acknowledgment. After a minute, I rubbed the cigarette stub out in a nearby ash tray. I looked back at my guest. I plastered a smile on my face, warm and welcome.
"Stay for dinner," I said brightly and stood up. I didn't give him a chance to answer as I walked out of the room and into the kitchen.
"Don't," Demitri had already begun speaking as I entered the kitchen. I looked at him unsmiling. He knew already what I was thinking. "I know what you want to do. Vasya, he's going to drag you back to court and you're going to get wrapped up in all the politics that we left. We left, remember? We left that place," I nodded and leaned back against the kitchen counter. He was a lot more desperate than he was revealing in his voice. I knew why. I knew why he didn't want me to go back there. As my guardian, he would follow me, and being back in that place was too much for him to bear. I knew that we didn't just leave because of the politics of the court. I wasn't naïve and I wasn't stupid. Demitri and I had left because of Rose. I went to him then, wrapping him in my arms. He was surprised, but I felt his arms come around me and hold me too.
I knew that Demitri had never truly gotten over Rose Hathaway. In truth, I hadn't either. When we ran away together, it was only a union of convenience. We both were in pain. We both needed to get away. It was logical to go together. At first, we just traveled. We used my money and just wandered aimlessly around the world. We didn't think about Rose. We never spoke of her. We just moved, like gypsies across countries. Demitri requested that we stayed for a spell in his hometown in Siberia. I had agreed, I could deny him nothing. The spell had turned into a year, the year into two and so on. We soon bought a house in the country and began living together. Our relationship had blossomed during this time and we decided to get married. I knew, through all of it, though. He would always look at me and see Rose.