Rose -

"Today we will be continuing our discussion of jus ad bellum versus jus ad bello. But before we go into the theory behind each, let's start with a basic definition. Miss uh…Hathaway, would you do us the honors?"

Lissa's elbow dug into my ribcage, jarring me from my daydreams. I had been envisioning a particularly attractive Russian, sans clothing, lying next to me on a pile of marshmallows; it was one of my more imaginative scenarios. Long-distance relationships will make you resort to doing things like picturing your boyfriend on a smores sandwich. I turned to scowl at her, but she was too busy jerking her head toward the front of the classroom to notice my annoyance. I followed her gaze and saw that our professor was staring at me, one eyebrow raised. His arms were crossed and he tapped one leather loafer with an almost comical tempo.

"Sorry," I offered. "Did you ask me something?"

He let out an exasperated sigh and then seemed to contemplate whether or not repeating his question would be worth it. "Jus ad bellum and jus ad bello, could you give us a definition…maybe even just one?"

"I didn't realize we needed to discuss the semantics of juice in international statecraft," I said with a wry smile.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lissa smack herself in the forehead, probably embarrassed to be associated with me. My professor looked like he was fighting the urge to do the same.

He shook his head, "Thank you, Miss Hathaway," he said, completely deadpan. "Very inspiring."

He glanced down at the roster on his desk and selected another name, and I settled back into my chair. I closed my eyes, but before I could let my imagination run away with me, I heard someone chuckle softly under their breath from directly behind me. It wasn't a friendly sound, it was taunting – a call to action, and I couldn't help but feel it was directed toward me. In my mind, I oscillated between whipping around and decking the owner of that laugh in their pretentious face, or simply pretending that I hadn't heard anything at all.

I let out a long breath and gripped my pencil hard in my hand, deciding that attacking my classmates didn't fall under my job description as Lissa's guardian, unless they had red eyes and a pair of razor sharp fangs. Since the late morning sun was casting long shafts of light across the scratchy carpet of the lecture hall and no one had disintegrated, I had to assume that the culprit wasn't a Strigoi. He was just a regular dickhead, not the kind who drank blood.

"Good one," a voice whispered from behind me. It was vaguely familiar. "Your ability to blend into this particular breed of moronic, collegiate Neanderthal is improving.

The wooden pencil I had been clutching in my hand snapped, and the pieces fell in splinters onto my open notebook. The tiny shards of wood were the only things adorning the blank sheets of paper. Lissa cast a quick glance in my direction but I kept my eyes trained on the front of the room. I stared at the projector screen that hung behind the professor. I didn't see the words on it though; I was trying to place the voice. I recognized the arrogance, and the sense of superiority. I flipped through a mental catalogue in my mind, and tensed when I was able to picture the owner of the voice – it was the Alchemist who had accosted me outside of the gym a few nights back.

His name was Elliott, and he was the field Alchemist assigned to Lehigh University. He had rubbed me the wrong way from the very beginning. After I had noticed the golden lily tattoo on his check, he had smirked knowingly at me and proceeded to try and assert his dominance over me.

"I'm assuming you know what this means," he had said, pointing to his cheek. The lily reflected the moonlight, and it was almost beautiful.

"Hmm…" I had mused, feigning ignorance. "It's lovely. Although, I don't think the lily goes with your bone structure, perhaps a daisy, or a tulip." I had twirled one strand of hair around my finger absent-mindedly. "And now that I look at it, the color is all wrong…"

"They warned me you would be difficult," he had snapped, cutting me off.

I hadn't bothered asking who "they" were; I had a pretty good idea. I was also sure that whatever "they" had said about me wasn't very nice. I didn't think that the Alchemists much cared for the infamous, fugitive-turned-royal guardian, Rose Hathaway.

"What do you want?" I had finally asked him.

He had shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets, "Just wanted to introduce myself."

"Do they not teach manners at Alchemist summer camp?" I had asked, crossing my arms over my chest defiantly. "Because when normal people introduce themselves, they shake hands and say 'hi, my name is…whatever.'"

He had smiled politely; it hadn't done much to make him more approachable, or even likable for that matter. "My name is Elliott, and I'm here to keep an eye on her majesty, and her royal guard."

"You're pretty pretentious for a guy whose job is essentially a glorified babysitter."

The smile had vanished almost instantaneously, replaced by a look of pure disgust. "Ours is a noble cause –"

"Spare me," I had interjected. "Now what do you really want?" My patients had been wearing thin. This Elliott guy was the only obstacle standing between me and a late night phone call with Dimitri.

"I saw your little fit earlier today," he had said, referring to my earlier ordeal where I had fallen asleep in class and been pulled into a spirit dream. "And I was watching you in the gym…"

"Stalker."

He had elected not to dignify my comment with a response. "You draw too much attention to yourself. Humans might start to get suspicious…"

"Ah yes," I had said tauntingly. "Because the first conclusion a human would reach when they saw a girl lifting weights is 'she must be half-vampire, flee for your lives!'"

Again, he had chosen to ignore my commentary. "I'm watching you," he had said warningly.

He had given me one last sneer before turning on his heel and stalking off into the darkness. My first reaction had been to call Dimitri to tell him about my encounter with Elliott – the call had gone straight to voicemail. When I did finally speak with him, he had taken Elliott's side, trying to explain that he was only doing his job. As punishment for his betrayal, I had limited our communication to vague text messages.

But as I sat in my lecture, with Elliott sitting a mere two feet away from me, I felt the urge to break my silence and to call Dimitri welling up within me.

I leaned over to whisper in Lissa's ear,"I have to pee." I stood up and managed to slip out of the row we had been sitting in before she could question me or ask to join.

As I walked toward the back of the lecture hall, my hand drifted to my back pocket where I could feel the outline of my cellphone through the fabric of my jeans. A faint smile crossed my lips at the thought of hearing Dimitri's voice, but the sound of footsteps behind me dashed those hopes. I quickened my own pace and made it to the door, managing to open it and pull it shut behind me with guardian speed and efficiency. I immediately stepped to the right, pressing my body against the wall and waited.

I didn't have to wait long, Elliott pushed the door open seconds after I had shut it. His eyes were focused on the corridor that lay before him and he had never seen me coming. I decided that a sophisticated incapacitation maneuver would hardly be necessary, and opted for pinning his arms behind his back and pushing him up against the wall with my own body.

"Quit following me," I warned through gritted teeth.

Elliott didn't bother trying to break my hold. "Get your hands off of me." His voice was taught as a wire.

After a brief moment, I released him and stepped away, realizing that golden lily tattoo or not, Elliott couldn't hurt me. "Sorry," I told him.

"No you're not," he said, turning around to face me.

I shrugged, "I guess that's fair."

Elliott looked exactly the way he had outside of the gym. He was all muted colors and plane features, neither particularly attractive, nor was he hard to look at it. He was staring at me appraisingly, and the glint in his brown eyes was the only memorable thing about him, aside from his smug demeanor.

"I didn't do anything wrong," I finally said, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen between us. "I'm pretty sure most of the people in that room were just as lost as me, and it has nothing to do with their species."

The corners of his mouth quirked up in amusement, "I believe I mentioned that." He ran a hand through his hair, "but that's not why I'm here."

"Is it the pleasure of my company?" I asked, giving him a smirk of my own.

The smile and the glint faded away, and they were replaced by a deadly calm. "No," he said. "I'm hear to talk about Victor Dashkov."

My blood ran cold. My pulse quickened and I fought the urge to shake, "What about him?" I asked, hoping that my tone betrayed none of the anxiety that was currently bubbling up within me.

It was entirely possible that he wanted to discuss the supposed sightings of Victor a few weeks back, but something about his gaze made clinging to that notion almost impossible.

"It's actually quite a long story," he started.

"I've got the time," I told him as casually as I could manage.

"I wasn't always stationed here. I used to be the field alchemist in Detroit. About a year ago, we intercepted a call to the human police, a couple of homeless people had stumbled across a body that had been left behind in a dump outside of a little town called Sturgis." He paused, but I kept my face blank. "Report said that the man was abnormally tall, and pale even for a dead guy. I didn't have anything better to do, and decided to investigate on the off-chance it was one of them."

My heart threatened to beat its way out of my chest, but I refused to give Elliott the satisfaction of knowing he was the source of my discomfort.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, malice lacing my every syllable.

"You'll see," he said coldly. "The body – he was elderly, and he was very tall and very pale. The body was covered in debris and he had a nasty head wound."

A lump was beginning to rise in my throat.

"But he seemed human enough," Elliott continued. "There was nothing out of the ordinary. Just a dirty old man that someone had abandoned in a dumpster, it would have been incinerated along with the other trash that evening, had it not been discovered."

I swallowed hard.

"Yes, I was just about to make a call, to have the body turned over to the human authorities when I saw something." Elliott dug through his pockets and withdrew a small object. It was tiny enough to fit in the palm of his hand, and he held it out to me.

"It's a ring," I said flatly.

"It's a woman's ring," he said impatiently. "And I thought to myself, what is a woman's ring doing jammed on the finger of this rotting corpse?"

I felt bile rising in my throat, the contents of my stomach churning.

"So I pulled it off of him," said Elliott. "And do you know what happened?"

I didn't speak, worried that I wouldn't be able to force down the nausea.

"He transformed. I don't know how, but this ring," he waved it in my face, "holds some kind of glamour magic. When the illusion slipped away, I saw him for what he was – a Moroi, and not just any Moroi," he said maliciously. "No, this was none other than Victor Dashkov."

Sonya and Dimitri had been the ones to dispose of the body. I had never know what had become of it - until now.

"Great!" I told him. "The Guardians have been looking for Dashkov ever since he escaped Tarasov prison, we've spent a considerable amount of resources trying to –"

"Cut the shit," he said cutting me off. "You knew he was dead, you've known all this time."

I didn't flinch, "I don't know what you're talking about, how could I have possibly known that Victor was dead?"

He took a step toward me, closing the gap between us. "Because you killed him," he said, his voice completely devoid of emotion.

I could feel the blood draining from my face, and I wanted to crumple to the floor.

How?

How had this Alchemist made the connection? Why hadn't he reported discovering Victor's body to the Alchemists? A million questions swirled around in my head, but I couldn't ask any of them, not without implicating myself.

"You're insane," I told him. "I didn't kill Victor Dashkov."

He took another step toward me, forcing me to back up into the wall to avoid touching him. I could feel his breath as he spoke. "Liar," he hissed.

I stared up at him defiantly. "You obviously didn't report finding the body, how do I know you're even telling the truth?"

He shrugged casually, "I destroyed the body using my handy little supply of Alchemist chemicals."

I blanched at the thought of Victor's body disintegrating the same way the Strigoi bodies in St. Petersburg had. "Why?" I asked. "Why would you destroy the body?"

"Because Victor Dashkov was murdered, and someone had gone to extreme lengths to cover it up. The murder of Moroi prince is no small matter, and I realized that the discovery of his body presented me with a rare opportunity."

My features twisted into a look of confusion, "What kind of opportunity?"

"To bring down the monarchy," he said snidely, like his reasoning should have been obvious, "to throw your world into chaos, forcing the Alchemists to act. His murder was meant to be kept a secret. I knew that if I could discover the reason, I could maybe use it to dismantle the system." The glint in his eyes from earlier had transformed into a glowing blaze. "At best, I thought I would learn that his murder had been arranged by another royal family, but imagine my delight when I learned the truth."

I tried to laugh, but it came out in a law snarl, "Dismantle the system? Your plan sounds like the plot to a bad movie."

Elliott was not amused, he was deadly calm. "Does it? Deny it all you want, but we both know that you killed Victor Dashkov. If word got out, you would be arrested for murder, and this time – you wouldn't escape. It would force Queen Vasilisa's hand; she would try to save you. Her rule is already under fire, and her intervention on your behalf would spark a revolution."

"Even if what you're saying is true, no one would believe you, you destroyed the body – you destroyed the only proof that you had," I added evasively.

Elliott smirked, "I looked into his disappearance; spoke with his friends, his relatives…" His voice trailed off and he smiled at me menacingly.

Victor's relatives…

"I stumbled across something very interesting; did you know that Victor had a half-brother?" Elliott stared at me appraisingly, probably hoping to gage my reaction. "His name is Robert Doru, do you know him?"

I shook my head fervently.

"You're lying," he said in an almost sing-song voice. "It doesn't matter though, because he knows you."

"What do you want?" I finally asked, not caring if my interest implicated me or not.

Elliott tilted his head to one side, "I have a message for you. Robert tried to deliver it himself, but he wasn't able to. He's very angry with you."

"A messaged?" I breathed.

"He would like to meet," he shoved a crumpled up piece of paper into my hand and turned to walk away from me.

"Wait," I called after him. "What is an Alchemist doing working with someone like Robert Doru? You can't possibly want the same things."He halted in his tracks but didn't turn around to face me. "We don't, but that doesn't mean we can't help each other to get what we do want."

A part of me wanted to sprint down the hallway and tackle Elliott to the ground, the other, more sane part of me knew that class would be letting out at any moment, and then Lissa and I would be surrounded by her Guardian detail. I had asked Guardian Mynor whether or not he had coordinated with the Alchemists on arranging Lissa's security at Lehigh, and he had told me they hadn't. He hadn't been particularly alarmed by the presence of an Alchemist on campus, but nothing got past him and I decided that I'd rather not be seen talking to an Alchemist. I let Elliott walk away.

I remembered that I was supposed to be using the bathroom, and that my absence was probably verging on suspicious. The tiny, crumpled ball of paper in my hands was damp with sweat from my palms, and I slipped it into the pocket of my jeans, my fingers brushing my cell phone as I did. The smooth metal reminded me that my reason for leaving the lecture hall in the first place had been to call him. I was suddenly overwhelmed with a need to see him, to touch him, to be held by him. A phone call wasn't going to be enough.

What would I even say to him when I called?

Hi, yes I'm having a great day. Today, I found out that someone has been working with a deranged magic-user to exact revenge on me for a murder that I committed. How was your day?

I felt utterly hopeless as I slipped back into the lecture hall and sat down next to Lissa. She looked at me concernedly, but wouldn't dare interrupt the class to ask me what was wrong. When the lecture ended, I gathered my things hastily and tried to put on a brave face for Lissa. I had promised her that I wouldn't keep any more secrets from her, but this – I couldn't tell her this.

I brought my fingers up to brush over the locket that dangled at my throat. When she had given it to me, she'd said that the charms were the only preventative measures we could take. She was worried that if I sought Robert out, I would get caught and the truth of Victor's whereabouts wouldn't come to light. She'd told me she couldn't protect me, but I knew she would try anyways. Telling her about Elliott would send her spiraling.

"Rose?" Lissa asked as we walked out of the lecture hall and toward the parking garage. "What's wrong?"

I didn't bother telling her that it was nothing, my aura probably looked like a storm cloud. "I went to call Dimitri during class," I lied. "We got in a fight."

Her jade green eyes shone with compassion and understanding, "I'm sorry, long distance relationships can be tough."

"It will be fine," I said, waving her off. "I'll talk to him later."

On the way back to the apartment, I sent Dimitri a text message asking if he had time to talk. He responded quickly with a message telling me that he would call me as soon as he could. He'd even included a smiley face, which was strange. If I was emotionally capable of feeling anything other than anxiety and fear, it would have made me laugh.

That call didn't come until the next day, after Lissa and I had already returned to Court for the weekend. I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket as I rolled my suitcase into our apartment.

"Dimitri!" I said answering after only one ring. "What the hell? You waited an entire day to call me back?"

"I'm sorry Rose," he said, sounding sincere. "We've been pretty busy over here. I also didn't know we were back on speaking terms."

"Never mind that," I said, slamming the door shut behind me. I had so much to tell him, and I had no idea where to start, so I started talking as fast as I could. "I need to talk to you, something happened in class today, the teacher asked me a question and I didn't know the answer and then this guy made fun of me and it was him! I saw him again!"

"Roza, slow down – what do you mean you saw him again?"

I let out an exasperated sigh before answering, "The alchemist guy! The one I told you about last week?"

"Ah," He said, realization dawning on him. "The one from the gym?"

"Yes, the one from the gym," I told him, a little annoyed.

"Roza, the alchemists are on our side, I don't understand why you're so bothered by him. Sydney's an alchemist, isn't she?"

This Alchemist was not on our side, and I tried to figure out the best way to make him see that. I wasn't sure how he would react if I told him about Elliott and his connection to Robert. I knew that he loved me, that he would want to protect me – that he would die protecting me if he needed to. But I worried that involving Dimitri would be exactly what Robert would expect me to do. After all, Robert's original threat hadn't been against me, it had been against the people I loved. I was suddenly at war in my head, two sides of me battling it out as I tried to find the words to tell him.

"Sydney doesn't count," I finally told him. "And I asked Mynor, the guardians didn't coordinate with the alchemists on Lissa's protection at Lehigh."

"The alchemists still know she's attending school there though, I'm not surprised at all that they would station an alchemist on sight."

My tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of my mouth, it all made perfect sense to him. I decided that this wasn't a conversation to be had over the phone. I glanced down at my suitcase, and realized that I had a decision to make.

"I guess you're right," I told him compliantly. "Something about him just rubs me the wrong way though, I don't like the guy. He's so boring and calm, he's like a serial killer right before they snap and go on a rampage."

"Just ignore him," he offered.

"Fine," I said. "But there's something else I need to talk to you about."

"What is it?" His voice was tight.

I hesitated, and then spoke. "I fell asleep in class the other day,"

"Roza…" he started, probably getting ready to chastise me.

"No wait," I cut in. "Just listen. I fell asleep, I know - I'm a bad student and Im wasting this wonderful opportunity and I'm a horrible guardian – but that's not the point."

"I didn't say – "

"I think Robert tried to pull me into a spirit dream." I spit out the words before I lost my nerve.

"That's not possible," he said darkly.

"He didn't though!" I said quickly. "I think something went wrong."

"What do you mean went wrong?"

"The dream never fully formed, it was all black…and the locket felt like it was on fire." I shivered, recalling the spirit dream that almost was.

"Does Vasilisa know about this?"

"Yeah," I said, a tinge of bitterness in my voice. "She was kind of…there."

"In the dream?"

"No, she was sitting next to me. She woke me up."

"What does she think about all of this?"

I paused. "She thinks the magic in the locket is fading, she wants to make more, or to at least reinforce the old one."

"Let me guess," he said. "You won't let her."

"I can't ask her to do that, the magic will keep fading, and she'll just keep making more charms. Using the magic like that, for an extended period of time is dangerous."

"Rose," he told me sternly. "You have got to stop this – "

A loud beeping noise from my his interrupted his words.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing, Eddie's trying to call me, that's all," he said quickly. "Rose, promise me you will let Vasilisa help you."

"You should pick up the other line, I have to go anyways," I said, letting the interruption make my decision for me.

"Rose – "

"I'll call you later. Love you, bye!" I hung up before he could protest.

I let out a shuttering breath. I needed to see Dimitri, to explain what was going on in person. My suitcase was already packed, and I knew that I could make Lissa believe I'd gone to see him because of the so-called fight I had told her about earlier. I flung open my front door, only to find a short woman with curly red hair standing in front of me, her fist raised as if she were about to knock.

"Mom?" I asked, not bothering to mask my surprise.

"Rose," she said with as sincere a smile as she could manage. "I'm glad you're finally back." She gestured to my suitcase. "We've been here a few days, and Guardian Croft told us you would be back some time tonight."

I was stunned, but eventually found my words. "Whose we?"

She blushed. Janine Hathaway's cheeks turned a shade of pink I had never seen.

"Your father and I," she said, obviously a little uncomfortable.

"Dear god," I murmured.

"We'd like to take you to dinner," she said, regaining a little bit of her composure.

"Can this wait?" I asked impatiently, I had a flight to Palm Springs to catch.

She shook her head, "There's something important we need to talk to you about."

Hey, I know it's been forever but the past two weeks have been ridiculous. I took my exams, graduated from college, moved into a new apartment, and started a full time job. I'm all settled now though and can get back to writing! Leave me a review and let me know what you thought!