Here is chapter two! Hope you enjoy it! Thanks for reading and please, please review!

"Your jaw should be healed enough to remove the bandage, although you aren't allowed to chew anything, and I mean anything, until I say so. You'll probably be in the hopsital for another few days, and even after I release you, you need to be very careful of that jaw," the doctor told Dillon a few days later while I watched in sadistic amusement. "You are lucky that it is healing so quickly. It was a very minor fracture." I snickered quietly. I could have done worse.

Dillon didn't reply--he couldn't because the bandage was still binding his jaw from moving--but he did send me a fierce glare. I once again found it surprising that he wasn't a fire user. The doctor careful untied the knot in the bandage and unwrapped it from around his head. Once he had removed it, Dillon opened his mouth wide, as though stretching. I have to admit, keeping my mouth closed for several days would really suck. I laughed internally. He still deserved it. For being an ass. For being so cocky. For being a player.

"You may not use your fangs for anything and that includes feeding. A nurse will be bringing you some blood shortly, and all of your meals will be liquids for the next week and a half. If you don't abide by that, you'll find yourself back in here rapidly, Mr. Thomas," the doctor warned, looking at him pointedly. I tried not to groan. I would personally make sure he followed that damn diet. I didn't ever want to set foot in this room again. Most dhampires had probably witnessed or experienced an attack by now. I had experienced nothing. Absolutely nothing. Literally I had sat in this room, leaving only to use the restroom when I was positive nothing was happening. The nurses had been bringing me food when they would add nutrients and liquids to Dillon's IV.

Dillon nodded in acknowledgement and the doctor finaly left the room. I braced myself, knowing he would raise holy hell now that we were alone. I was right.

"What the hell, Janine?! Did you have to break my jaw? Do you even fricking realize that I have to be in this God damned room for another week? Jesus f-ing Christ, couldn't you just tell me to go off myself instead of punching me with everything you've got? If I wanted a broken jaw, I would have asked for one!" he practically yelled at me, continuing on to drop a few more f-bombs and make several rude hand gestures. I watched him, slightly amused.

"You asked for it!" I cut in when he paused for breath. I saw him open his mouth to argue, but I cut him off. "You completely deserved it, Mr. I'm-so-hot-every-girl-should-kiss-the-ground-at-my-feet! If I could do it again, I would!" My voice had become a snarl, and I smirked at him furiously.

"Shut up. Just shut up before you sound even more stupid. You don't have any idea what I'm like or what you're talking about, so shut your damn mouth, Janine Hathaway," he yelled, glaring at me heatedly. I didn't know what I was talking about?

"Really?" I challenged him. "I don't know what you're like?" Bullcrap. I knew just what he was like. He was like every Moroi boy, but all of their negative traits were intensified in him.

"No," he said coldly, all anger gone to be replaced with an icy hostility. His green eyes were dark and his lips were pressed together tightly. "You don't." I clenched my hands in fists at my sides so I wouldn't strangle him or throw something at his head.

"Enlighten me," I hissed. This ought to be interesting.

He regarded me icily. "I don't have to." I supressed a violent urge to break his jaw a second time. Instead, I wisely looked away from him and fixated myself on a ugly vase of wilting red roses by his bedside. They had a card attached and everything. I snickered.

Pointing at the vase, I asked sarcastically, "Which girlfriend are those from?"

He looked at the flowers briefly and glared at me. "I don't have a girlfriend." That surprised me somewhat.

"Or a friend with benefits, whatever you call them."

He rolled his eyes. "I told you that you don't know as much about me as you thought. I don't have any of those either."

I couldn't keep the surprised tone out of my voice. "Really?" Maybe I had been wrong. Maybe he was different. But different doesn't mean he's not an asshole. Anyways, I highly doubted that I had been wrong.

He looked at me far too seriously with his emerald eyes. "Yes, really." I held his gaze for a second and then abruptly glared at the vase again. His face had been far too honest. I hated being wrong. And it seemed that I was wrong about him. Or, at least, he was a pretty damn good actor that deserved an Oscar nomination for his preformance. It could be either, but I was betting on the latter.

I whipped my head towards the door as I heard a loud crash echoing in the hallway. Immediately, instinctively, I took up a fighting stance, waiting and watching the open door. I saw suspicious movement in the doorway, and without hesitation, flung myself forward, tackling whoever it was. By the time we both went tumbling to the floor, I already had one arm against their neck, choking them, and a wooden practice stake at their heart. Dead. I leapt off their body without sparing a glance downward, clutching the stake, at the ready for a second attacker. There was no one around.

"Ahem."

I looked down at the person I had just attacked and felt very abashed. It was Kirova. She obviously wasn't dressed to be a "Strigoi;" she was clothed in loose pants and a button-up floral shirt, instead of the ninja black uniforms the "Strigoi" would wear. Shit. I had just attacked my headmistress. After the incident with Dillon a few days ago, the last thing I needed was to get in more trouble. Shit. She had better not disqualify me from the field experience. Crap, crap, crap.

I took a hasty step away from her. "Uhh... you okay, Kirova?"

She glowered at me. Shit. "It is Headmistress Kirova to you, Hathaway," she growled. I relaxed slightly and offered her my hand, completely ignoring her rebuff. She accepted it and stood slowly, fixing her clothes. Finally she met my gaze and held it steadily. "Good job, Janine."

"What?" I must have misheard her. If she practically blew a fuse because I had punched Dillon, she should have a heart attack when I attacked her.

She smiled. "Good job. You reacted quickly. If I had been a Strigoi, you could have handled it." Her face soured. "Just please take a moment to identify before you kill."

"I'll try in the future," I said snidely. She rolled her eyes.

She disregarded my remark carelessly. "You passed, even though it wasn't a test. Anyways, I had actually come to speak with Mr. Thomas, to check up on his condition." She pushed past me and made her way into the room. I let her, feeling happy that I had actually proved that I was good enough to be a guardian. Sure, I had "killed" my headmistress (not that I was feeling sad about her "death"), but if she had been Strigoi, she would be nothing more than a tattoo on the back of my neck.

I followed her into the room, met Dillon's surprised gaze smugly, and went to stand by his bed, keeping one eye on the door like a true guardian. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him mouth, "That's hot," and wink at me. I rolled my eyes and tried not to throttle him. My earlier thoughts about misunderstanding him were apparently incorrect.

A little longer than normal, but I'm sure there are no complaints about that. Thanks for reading, and reviews are magical!

Mel.