Adrian POV
She hadn't looked at me since we all sat down in the living room. She seemed withdrawn; scared. Her shoulder's were hunched and her eyes flickered around the room, though never to me.
Dimitri kept possessively close, and Lissa watched her best friend like she thought she might be whisked away like smoke in the wind. After the initial shock, the questions began, we asked her where she'd been living, what she'd been doing, but after the careful tiptoeing around it, Christian spoke up.
"What happened after the battle?"
I cringed at the last word, that night had been the cause of many nightmares, watching Rose die in a number of horrible ways. I could never do anything but watch, a hapless Moroi. I would see her agonised expression lacken as she died, only to see her turn pale, her eyes shimmer crimson as she turned her face up to me, smiling terribly before she lunged to my throat.
I saw her recoil at the word as well, and immediately felt guilty for my own fear, I worried what the question would do to her, we all did, yet everyone leaned closer in anticipation of an answer. Her eyes lifted to look at me, but I soon realised that she wasn't seeing me- her eyes gazing into space, into the past.
Rose POV
When Christian asked the question, memories started flooding back. While Liss's Spirit had opened my memory to her, I was still having trouble remembering much else, though thoughts were not nearly as elusive as they had been the last frustrating months. Those words were like an electric shock though, and they came unbidden...
My head was throbbing, I woke to find a man settled in an armchair nearby. At my stirring, he looked at me with mild indifference before returning to the paper that was lifted near his eyes. I tried to move my body, yet my muscles did not listen, they remained glued to the floor. I struggled to order my mouth to speak, but it refused.
Still looking at his newspaper, he spoke, with a calm irritation, "I've been rather put out with you, girl."
I shook my head, trying to rid the fuzzy haze that walled me from what I'd just been doing, or, rather, what I had ever done. The harder I tried to remember anything, the further it spun out of reach. It reminded me oddly of chasing a rainbow, never near enough to touch.
Eventually, I managed to choke out a guttural question mark.
"Right on that battlefield, you destroyed somebody who I have spent the last 98 years with."
I was confused at both parts of his statement, he did not look older than 40, yet there was a look in his eyes that hinted at an anger that could not come without years of torment. What did he mean about me killing anybody? I imagine my baffled expression was open on my face, because he scowled at me.
"I doubt you even thought about it, you probably didn't even see her face while you murdered her. She has been my companion for almost a century," I felt horror creep upon me as his words sunk in, "No doubt my group will disband now, we have lost a valuable leader, there was no one more capable of beheading any sign of rebellion. Literally."
I began to realise, through some distant knowledge, that these people weren't people, and the glint of scarlet that I saw in his eyes was not a trick of the light, as I'd been leading myself to believe. He was some sort of monster.
"It was ironic, really. Our daughter always liked to keep more modernized ideas; her mother often berated her, but the gun that she brought to the fight resulted in a most effective defeat, and, if I may say so, the most satisfying."
I looked down at where dull ache was emitted, and at the left side of my stomach, a bandage soaked in dark red blood. My brows furrowed, why would anyone save me if they wanted to kill me?
As if he knew what she was thinking, he allowed himself to smile. "What would be the joy in watching you die from a simple gunshot wound? I prefer more," he sneered, "personal methods." he flicked a serrated blade from his vest pocket, and caressed the smooth sides.
At that moment, a young girl entered through large mahogany doors, looking vehement.
"Really father, must you bring that thing out at every occasion?"
He looked toward his daughter, and sighed, returning the knife to his pocket.
"I have other plans." She looked, toward me, and I had a feeling that her plans involved something more painful than knives.
"And what, my dear child, do you suppose we do with her?"
"Have her join us."
If she had doubted that a monster could look shocked, she wouldn't any more. His eyes widened and mouth gaped, and he stuttered out an oppositional noise.
"You have seen her in battle, imagine that power magnified by The Awakening! We are at a loss in our coven now- would you see us disbanded? She would be the perfect solution!"
The man had gotten over his surprise, and now looked angry, glaring from me to her, "You would have her live? No, you would have her rewarded with our immortality? After what she has d-"
The girl held up her hand, she had obviously predetermined his reaction, "Revenge is simply not practical, kill her if you want, but we both know that we won't stand a hell of a chance without the others. She could keep our coven together."
She thought that she would rather be dead than one of these creatures, yet the longer they argued, the longer she lived, so she did not interrupt. After a while of this bickering, her father said something that made the girl frown.
"What about your mother's necklace? When she was killed she was wearing it, you would forgive the loss of that?"
She tried to think of what significance that such a detail would have on these beasts, but came up empty. The angry looking girl glanced at her for a moment, then looked back, her eyes resting on the piece of silver jewellery resting just above her chest.
"No matter," The girl strode toward her and yanked it over her head. Holding it out triumphantly, "this will do nicely." She turned around to clasp it around the back of her neck. Facing toward her, the girl's expression suddenly changed, and there was genuine fear and anger in her eyes. Baffled to what marked this change, she only watched as the girl regained her composure and turned to face her father.
"I doubt it is as expensive as the other one was, yet it does look remarkably similar." The man smoothed his chin.
"You know," the girl laughed, "I think, I may have come to a solution; we could have our fun with her and then Awaken her."
She could not see the girl's face, but there was something weird in her tone. Her father did not seem to notice though, and his mouth split into a disturbing grin.
She strolled lazily to the roaring fireplace, and plucked out one of the many metal handles which lay there, their blades engulfed in flames. She turned to face him with a glowing machete, and offered it to him.
Now that her fate was before her, she mentally smacked herself for thinking that it could not get worse. Her choice of fates seemed like a blessing in comparison. She would rather be either, than both. The sight of that sharp blade made the hairs on her arms stand up, she clenched her fists into the carpet and frantically looked around for an escape plan. But there was nothing, the desk the monsters stood at blocked her from the weapons, and they seemed to move faster than she would be able to, even if she had control of her body. There were no windows, and the doors would definitely be locked, except, maybe, the one the girl had entered in. She shuffled her way toward the it, her body still weak and uncooperative. The man seemed to find this amusing, and stood up, facing away from his daughter, he laughed at her frozen figure and held a hand backwards for the weapon. She knew then that there was no way out, no escaping this fate, the hope drained from her like a candle burning out.
Then, something happened that she would have never imagined possible. The girl's face contorted with rage behind her father's back, and something that looked like a deep, burning hatred surged through her body; she lifted the blade and brought it down in a powerful swipe, and, still sizzling with burned flesh, the decapitated head of her father dropped onto the desk in front of him.
"That," the girl said solemnly, "was for what you made us into."
Her face changed and her eyes looked to her frantically, they were panicked at seemed very young. She seemed to look inward for a moment and after a beat, she fled, flinging open the large doors to see the the gentle glow of oranges and red that signified dawn. She paused before leaving, taking one glance back at me, before nodding to herself. She was gone in a movement so quick that no eyes could follow.
Trying to come to terms with what had just happened, she managed to pick herself up. Her knees were weak and she stumbled a few more times. Once she had stood firmly on the ground, she shook herself before taking her first step. That shake, however, seemed to aggravate her damaged head and it swayed until the world was spinning, before she knew it, she had stumbled and fell once more, her head crashing into the fireplace stone, and the world went black.
Lissa gasped and her hands went to her lips. "My necklace! The one I charmed for you!"
The memory came slowly, groggily, and I could picture my best friend holding out a silver chain grinning madly. I remembered how proud she was of it, and how long she said she'd spent working on it. I'd been hesitant at the time, some of her creations had the tenancy to leave marks. This one had simply felt smooth and warm though, so she wore it anyway, to spare her feelings.
"It seems to have had an effect much like your what your ring did to me in Russia, but apparently tenfold." Dimitri murmured quietly. It was always hard for him to talk about his time as a Strigoi.
"I'd put a lot of effort into that, but I never imagined something like this, I was just trying to keep it from scolding you! What else do you think spirit can do?"
My eyes flickered around the room, catching on the various pieces of jewellery hanging off of our friends; Christian wore an unnaturally bright looking silver watch, the dark haired boy wore a flamboyant chain link bracelet, and Dimitri sported a dark, thick ring. My guess was that they were all spirit soaked.
After a few hours of throwing around ideas, I left Lissa and Christian's home, but as Dimitri was their guardian, I wouldn't allow him to come with me. I exited the house and took a good look at it for the first time; on my way here I was somewhat disorientated. It was a beautiful log cabin, but maybe that description didn't do it justice, the porch led down a wooden path until it reached the woods that surrounded the clearing, ebbing lanterns decorated the railings, and from the edge of the trees, the home looked fit for one of Tolkin's Elves.
As I set off, I heard a clinking behind me and footsteps gaining, I spun round defensively, only to find the dark haired spirit boy standing there, watching me.
I cleared my throat, an awkward silence was threatening to stretch, "Hey."
He approached me, and smiled softly, "Hi."
Without another word, we began to walk together and I continued to watch the floor, despite how we'd conversed when there were others there, it was confusing to see him now, alone with me. We hadn't addressed the issue of my memory in relation to this boy. I knew his name was Adrian, yet even that was murky in my mind, it brought with it feelings of guilt and sadness.
While we were in the house, he wore a confident smile, yet now it was downcast, and his hair was dishevelled in the forest breeze, yet unlike the style he was obviously aiming for inside, it was now simply mussed around his head, sticking up at odd angles.
"You remembered Belikov." he said, barely above a whisper.
"Yeah, but there were certain reminders that triggered it." I said uncomfortably, thinking of how Dimitri had repeatedly brushed his hands on my skin me since we found each other, as if he were making sure I was real, each time it sent electric currents through my body.
He came to a standstill and looked at me with pain in his eyes, "You remembered him, but you can't even bring yourself to look at me!"
I cringed, not knowing what to do, but as I watched his pain turn to anger, my own frustration came out, "I am so sorry that my memory loss offends you; I should have thought about your feelings, how selfish of me!"
It was his turn to wince, "You're right, I'm sorry. I just thought... The dream didn't remind you, I just hoped... I don't know... I'm sorry."
He took a step toward me, his sweet scent drifted off him and his eyes looked deep into mine. My breath hitched. Who was he? His lips came close to mine, but at the last moment, he brought them to my forehead and began to walk again.
After a moment of silence, my voice came to me again, "Nobody has told me who you were, you know... before."
An annoyed look crossed his face, but then he shrugged, "I'm not surprised, Belikov was the one with you, and I doubt Lissa would have brought it up in there; wouldn't have put it past Christian though..."
I smiled, all my memories of Christian were ones where he was there with Lissa, but he is a hazy part of the picture. I could see, however, how the boy was. No, he probably would've have enjoyed creating an awkward situation.
"I was your boyfriend." he said, his sad, beautiful green eyes catching mine.
"Oh," I replied slowly, oddly, I didn't find myself surprised "how long ago was that?"
He looked at me and sighed, "When you left, you were my girlfriend, when you came back, you weren't."
I gasped, remembering Dimitri when he first saw me. He knew that I was somebody else's, but I didn't. I could remember our argument, and knew that we hadn't been together, but it hadn't occurred to me that I was supposed to be with someone else. The words came back to me. "You had a boyfriend!" but I had dismissed them in the heat of the argument, presuming it must have ended long before my disappearance.
"Hey, I don't blame you. I knew you always had a thing for the guy, I figured it was only a matter of time, better this way than you breaking up with me knowingly." he said with an attempt at nonplussed.
I groaned, how did everything get so messed up? "I'm so sorry..."
He lightly bumped my shoulder with his fist, and laughed "It's all good, no worries."
I could tell that he wasn't taking it as well as he was making out.
"The court is two miles that way," he said as we approached his car, "want a lift?"
I looked from him to his fancy looking vehicle, I knew which way my destination was, Dimitri had driven them past it en route to Lissa's. I wasn't sure if he actually wanted me to take that offer, I could tell it was sincere, but he looked pained at her presence, and I felt like an absolute jerk at the moment. Adrian was still waiting on an answer, but I shook my head. I didn't want to even imagine that car ride, so I bade him goodbye on the spot, and he reluctantly got into his car and pulled out of the roadside bay and drove away. Those emerald eyes looking back at me through the rear view window.
I grimaced, it looked like memory loss wasn't my only problem.
