I'm sick of snow. As is the rest of the DC metro area. :) Hence the update. OH, and there's going to be loads more Adrian and Fya in this story. ;)
Usual disclaimers apply.
You can have it all
Anything you want you can make it yours
Anything you want in the world
Anything you want in the world
Give it up to me
Nothing too big or small
Anything you want you can make it yours
Anything you want in the world
Anything you want in the world
Give it up to me
Hey can we go by or do you prefer to fly?
All of the roads are open
In your life
In you life
Give it up to me
~Shakira, "Give It Up To Me"
"So they broke up?" Christian asked.
I sighed, playing with the loose strand on the couch pillow. I had gathered up all of my friends and Dimitri for a get-together at Lissa and Christian's place, and we were lounging around on couches and the floor of their giant living room. Soft, barely audible jazz music was coming from the intense sound system near the TV.
I didn't want to have to go over this again, but apparently, it was necessary.
"Raine and Andrew broke up. Raine has completely freaked out over it. She's even taken to wearing this extremely tacky black leather jacket. She gets in more fights on a daily basis than I did in a month. Her reputation has taken an incredible, horrible turn."
"Wow," Adrian muttered before taking a swig from his current bottle of Smirnoff.
"He's an asshole," Eddie announced. Lissa reached over and slapped him on the back of the head. Christian, who had an alert Cailiegh in his lap, just laughed.
"Language around the baby. Watch it." She gave him a glare before sitting back in the plush couch.
I saw Fya mutter something in Dimitri's ear. She glanced at her watch and Dimitri grimaced.
"What?" Jeremy, whose head had been bent over a notebook that had been sitting in Mia's lap, suddenly looked up, his face alarmed.
"We have to kidnap Rose for some secret guardian stuff now. She just didn't get to skip out on her prison sentence to sit around and gossip about her students." Fya grimaced. "And we're going to nearly make it by the skin of our teeth if we don't leave, like, right this second."
I bade good-bye to everyone else and followed my fiance and friend out of the apartment.
"Move it, Hathaway," Fya said, throwing her head over her shoulder momentarily to spit out her words.
We stopped when we go to the guardian break room of the main Court building. Fya pushed open a door painted red in the back corner after punching in a long strand of numbers. She purposely stood in front of it to keep my eyes from seeing any part of the strand.
"I'm surprised you didn't ask about the door before," Dimitri muttered as we climbed into the elevator that was behind the door.
"It was painted red and in a dark, back corner. Red usually means 'none-of-your-business' and a dark, back corner translates into trouble most of the time." I shrugged. "I figured it wasn't worth asking about."
"Oh," Dimitri replied, but he dropped the subject after that.
The elevator stopped and opened up into a large, medieval-feeling chamber room. Swords and thick, velvet banners with different sayings in Latin hung around the room, that after inspection, revealed to be made out of eight walls to form an octagon. The floor was made of stone. Groups of guardians in the usual attire milled about, chatting and laughing. Five older guardians wearing long black cape-like robes over their outfits were clustered behind an ancient bowl. It looked like it had been cut out of a tree trunk. A sharp dagger precariously sat on the edge farthest away from me. A scroll with a black feather pen sat next to the bowl.
"So when does the party start?" I whispered to Fya.
She just smiled. "When they notice you're here."
"Who? The men in black?" I crossed my arms over my chest.
"Very funny," Fya commented. "And yes, those are the Council leaders. Though you'll find out more about them in your training seminar."
I was about to ask her what she had meant by that when one of them let out a sharp whistle. A red star with thirteen points was on the right breast pocket of his robe. The others each had the same in a different color - green, blue, brown, and silver - and they each looked the same. Old. Graying. Caucasian. Gray beards. Guardian attire. Freaky black robes. I would've sworn them to be genetic clones had they not been so old looking. They were probably executing witches in Salem when the group of geezers had been born.
"Silence to the Higher Order!" Red Star announced. Everyone fell into their respective positions - two to a wall - and a heavy quiet fell over the room. I saw Dimitri was to my dead left; I took some comfort knowing where he was.
Of course, in typical Hollywood fashion, I ended up in the middle of the room. The group of the old men stood in a tight, straight line, shoulder-to-shoulder, with Red Star in the middle.
"Rosemarie Hathaway." Blue Star. Hard to tell what his tone was. It wasn't like he making a statement, but he wasn't asking a question. It was probably the most neutral thing I had ever heard someone say.
"Hey," I replied. I saw some guardians smile. Blue Star stayed as stoic as ever.
"Step forward," Blue Star commanded. I followed his command, coming all the way up to the table. The bowl, dagger, scroll, and pen all sat on a black velvet tablecloth. It was all very King Arthur-like.
Red Star leaned down towards me, his voice hushed. "This isn't going to take very long. So just bear with us. The fun stuff comes later." Going back into character, he stood up straight and gave Blue Star a weird nudge-like movement to the ribs.
"By the order and wish of Queen Tatiana Ivashkov herself, Rosemarie Hathaway, do swear on your blood to upholds the ideals and principles of the Inner Circle, its members, the Moroi political system, the leader of the Moroi and dhampirs, and those expected upon your dedication to the protection of the Moroi?"
I glanced around me. "Um, sure?"
"You right hand," Red Star commanded, and I held out the correct hand. Flicking the dagger up into his skinny, bony fingers, he pressed the entire blade across my palm. A thin line of crimson liquid spluttered up and Red Star twisted my hand roughly towards the bowl. After a symbolic three drops hit the bottom of the bowl, he shoved my hand away.
"What, no towel?" I asked, assessing my hand.
"Not yet." Blue Star smirked. He took the dagger from Red Star and handed it to Brown Star, who was standing on the other side of him.
"By the power of Earth invested in thyself, I give three drops of my own blood to symbolize my acceptance of Rosemarie Hathaway into the Inner Circle." He handed it off to Blue Star, who pressed it into his palm.
"By the power of Water invested in thyself, I give three drops of my own blood to symbolize my acceptance of Rosemarie Hathaway into the Inner Circle." He then gave it to Red Star. Red did a flashy quick scrap along his hand.
"By the power of Fire invested in thyself, I give three drops of my own blood to symbolize my acceptance of Rosemarie Hathaway into the Inner Circle." Red Star gave it to Green Star. Silver Star looked incredibly nervous.
"By the power of Air invested in thyself, I give three drops of my own blood to symbolize my acceptance of Rosemarie Hathaway into the Inner Circle." Silver Star took the dagger gingerly, daintily dragging it across his skin.
"By the power of Spirit invested in thyself, I give three drops of my own blood to symbolize my acceptance of Rosemarie Hathaway into the Inner Circle." His voice definitely was not the calm, controlled tenor of his peers. He handed it to Green Star, who gave it to Red Star; he simply put it on table.
"As leader of the five elements, I give permission to Rosemarie Hathaway to access the secrets and hidden memories of ancestors past. May she live a long and healthy live, always willing to step in and put her life on the line in order to protect the Moroi, whose precious blood shall never be spilled." He gave the bowl another three drops of his blood. The cut on my own hands was beginning to throb.
"Rosemarie, please sign in blood to the words which you will now live by." Red Star handed me the pen.
"I guess we're doing this Harry Potter style," I muttered. I grabbed the pen and signed the piece of curly parchment. When I set the pen down, I stared at my blood entranced by it. The pen was covered in it. Reflexively, I looked at the back of my hands. So I wouldn't have a scar of the words in my hands for all eternity. Damn.
All five of them suddenly spoke up, making me jump a little bit. "By the power of the elements invested in thyself, I present now Rosemarie Hathaway, member number one two four three eight one two of the Inner Circle."
Red Star looked at me. "Welcome, Rosemarie." He smiled before he dropped the paper into the bowl of blood. It caught on fire, and I watched it go up in flames. I got a glimpse of the bottom of the bowl as they took it away - it was clean. Blood free. Sometimes the magic around here got a little too weird for my tastes.
I felt like I had won an award or something. Every guardian in the room felt the need to come up and congratulate me. I shook hands with my left hand. I had been given a bandage and moist towel by a timid-looking Silver Star for my right hand. It was beginning to throb painfully now.
I shook hands with all of the five star-guys and Dimitri and Fya, both of whom had been waiting off to the side, pounced on me after the guys left.
"They had fun with your induction ceremony," Fya noted, squeezing my shoulders with one arm.
"How so?" I asked as we joined the group waiting to get onto the elevator.
"'By the order and wish of Queen Tatiana Ivashkov herself, Rosemarie Hathaway, do swear on your blood to upholds the ideals and principles of the Inner Circle, its members, the Moroi political system, the leader of the Moroi and dhampirs, and those expected upon your dedication to the protection of the Moroi?'" Fya repeated. "Most of the time, they just go with, 'Do you swear on your blood to uphold the ideals and principles of the Inner Circle, its members, and the Moroi?' None of that fancy, extra stuff they threw in."
"Normally it means they have plans for you," a voice piped up. I turned to see a girl, no older than fourteen, staring at me inquisitively.
"What do you want now, Naomi?" Fya asked tiredly. She saw my gaping mouth and then added, "This is Naomi Kingsley. Guardian extraordinaire. Well, not really."
"Child prodigy in mathematics, instrumental music, and puzzles." Naomi shrugged, her dirty blonde hair brushing the middle of her upper arms. "They just use me in deciphering codes and such."
"Naomi also happens to be thirteen." Fya gave Naomi a small smile.
"Fourteen in just a few weeks." Naomi rolled her eyes. "I had to mentor Fya - like, give her the crash-course, mentor - and she didn't agree with my style of teaching."
"Oh really?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at Fya. She just threw up her hands and got on the elevator with us. Naomi squished in between Dimitri and I.
"I tend to get bossy and defensive when in a leadership position. Did I mention I'm dabbling in poetry?" She fell silent after that.
We stopped at a conference room, and Fya held up a hand out our small group of four. We did get off at a floor that looked like it had come straight out of Headquarter Mania - cubicles stretched down along the room as far the eye could see. However, instead of a white-and-beige theme going, it was all black and silver and red and the lights were down low.
Fya led us down along the edges. She eventually made a left next to a room that said "Copy Room III" and passed four spacious cubicles until she came to the fifth. They all opened the same way.
"Your finger allows access," Fya explained. Bewildered, I pressed my right forefinger to the tiny pad by the entrance. It scanned it and a soft click was heard.
"Ah," Naomi murmured. I followed her in. There was more than enough room for all of us to stand comfortably in it. A sleek, black Macintosh laptop sat on the desktop with tons of manilla envelopes piled up around it. A simple, black and silver desk lamp sat unlit behind the mounds of what I assumed to be paperwork.
"This is your cubicle. For now, at least. Dimitri told us you liked Macs better, and we try to custom tailor to your preferences, when allowed. Right now, you get to do newbie stuff like filing paperwork and transmitting it into our databases. I don't know what you have. You'll be assigned a mentor next week after you take a placement test in a few days. You'll be notified when it's time to administer it to you. Get a high enough score, and you won't be doing field or paperwork. Any questions?" Fya's glasses had suddenly appeared; they were sliding down her nose.
I shook my head. I caught Naomi studying me but didn't say anything.
"Well, then, if you have any questions, my email address is already loaded up into your contacts." Fya smiled at me before leaving.
"I'll meet you back at the apartment later. I've got work to do." Dimitri gave me a small smile, kissed the top of my head, and briskly followed Fya out of the cubicle.
Naomi cleared her throat, her pale skin a translucent white in the weird lighting.
"What?" I asked.
"I'm off for the rest of the day. Mind if I hang out with you right now?" She suddenly seemed so much smaller.
I shook my head. I noticed a second chair by the edge of the desk, which Naomi promptly sat in. She flipped open the manilla-colored file folder closest to her and started going through the papers. I heard her murmuring under her breath, tracing the words and sentences with her finger. Shaking my head to myself, I sat down in the comfy black desk chair, booted up my new, personal laptop, and opened a random file folder next to my computer. I nearly dropped it and the thick stack of papers tucked inside it.
Written on the first page was a picture of the man and his name: Victor Dashkov. This was certainly some interesting paperwork.
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