[[A/N: I'm glad you guys are commenting. Keep it up, yah? My arms hurt like hell from swim practice, but I'll keep writing. ]]
[[2nd A/N: Nothing much to say today…oh well. All the more time to read this chapter!]]
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The crunching got closer.
I knew I probably should've screamed. But if I did, it would probably sound like a little girl's scream. And I refused to sound like that. Ever.
My heart raced with adrenaline. Somewhere I'd read that you could die from too much adrenaline in your body…but why did I feel so nervous? It was just a test.
Yah, well I guess if I "died," I could very well kiss my position as Lissa's Guardian goodbye.
I swallowed hard and grabbed a pile of rocks and dirt in my fist.
The crunch was right behind me.
Now or never. In real life, I'd be screwed. Strigoi didn't make that much noise. Genetics or something. Evilness came with a natural affinity to stealth. And I doubted a fist full of gravel would do much to stop them.
I counted to three.
Gathering all my strength. I twisted my torso towards my opponent, letting my momentum swing my arm (and thus my hand of dirt) up towards his face.
"Oh shit," I exclaimed, seeing whom I had just stoned in the eyes. "Eddie!"
My tutor/friend grunted, falling onto his knees.
"What the hell, man?" I shouted. I looked back at the log. Gregory was just now securing the backpacks onto his body. "GREGORY! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!"
--
From what he told us, apparently Eddie and his partner had taken the risk of continuing on through the night and camped just over the ravine.
Apparently, he was on lookout when he'd seen Gregory and I cross the bridge.
"What happened, Rose?" he asked between trying to rub dirt and rocks out of his eyes. I felt horrible. Aside from his very puffed up eyes, he looked like he hadn't sustained any lasting injuries. I guess I ruined his record.
"Fell down the hill," I said simply, choosing my words carefully. Eddie was basically a full-fledged guardian now. If he knew my injuries were because Gregory was venting, it was his duty to report it. I saw my partner flinch in his post.
That's when Mischa Anatova appeared, finally finished cleaning up their campsite.
"Eddie, are you here?" The female novice wandered into the small clearing we had made.
I was stunned. I didn't know Mischa. I'd seen her in the halls a few times but hadn't really gotten a good look at her.
She was stunning. Her family, I knew, was somewhere from Eastern Europe, but Mischa looked more Mediterranean than anything. She looked a lot like me. Her skin was darker, more tan than pale. It made her green eyes and warm, blonde hair pop. And even hunched under the weight of the dummy on her back and the backpack on her chest, she towered over me.
My eyes flickered to Eddie.
I studied his face as he looked at her. He looked…
Holy crap! He's got a crush on her!
I snickered. I wonder how long this has been going on.
"I thought your partner was a Strigoi…sorry Mischa," I apologized, regaining composure.
She narrowed her eyes. "Really?" Her lips quivered but turned into a large smile. "Haha! Great!" I heard sincerity in her words.
"Great?" Gregory asked skeptically, keeping his eyes on the trees.
Mischa giggled. "The all-famous Eddie Castile, instructing prodigy, can get his ass handed to him."
My mind zeroed into the first part of the sentence. Everything else went in one ear and out the other.
"Dating?" Gregory and I shouted in unison.
Eddie shushed us, but his face was bright red. And I knew that Mischa was speaking the truth.
"Eddie, when were you going to tell us?" I demanded.
"After grad," Eddie promised, "We started dating about two months ago, but because you had just gotten back from Russia…we were going to tell everyone when things settled down." He glared at Mischa. "You had to say dating, didn't you."
His girlfriend blushed. "Sorry!"
Eddie's eyes widened. He looked away, reddening from ear to ear.
I chuckled. I leaned over and whispered into Eddie's ear. "As your friend, I have the moral obligation to tell you this: she has got you under her pinkie!" I laughed.
Eddie snorted. "Whatever, I like it."
My watch chirped. We had better get moving.
"Cake, right?" I said confidently (granted my confidence was a step smaller than before the accudent).
Mischa clucked her tongue. "For us, maybe. For you and Gregory, maybe not." She looked at Eddie. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Eddie?"
Gregory and I exchanged quick looks. They were already at the "I know what you're thinking" stage?
"Pair up with them," Eddie stated rather than asked.
"So is that that? We're teaming up?" Gregory asked.
"Yah, that cool, man?" Eddie wondered. "I mean, if you don't want to."
Gregory shook his head. "No, of course we'd appreciate your help!"
So that was that. It took a few tries to arrange how to carry four backpacks and me, but after ten minutes, we started down the hill again. This time, I was riding on Gregory's back, no backpacks. Eddie took the lead, carrying two packs while Mischa took the rear with the remainders.
There was less of an incline now, making it easer on all of us.
"Doing okay, Rose?" Gregory asked about ten minutes later.
I grunted. The pain of being jostled on a guy's back was excruciating, but I knew that he was trying to walk as smoothly as possible.
"Look, again, I'm sorry," he apologized profusely. He lowered his voice so Eddie wouldn't hear "I'm really sorry…for my hand in this mess."
"No worries. I'll get healed up quick," I assured him.
God, I hope Lissa has been keeping up with her healing skills. I'm gonna need it, I thought bitterly. With Tasha waiting for me down at the bottom of the hill no doubt, chock full of information on pretty much everything (in exchange for something…I was sure), I had no time for "sick days."
The trek was peaceful. Eddie and Mischa updated us on their fights the previous night. Because they were one of the few teams to continue into the night, they had to fight five times, each with at least four "Strigoi" attackers.
I whistled. "And you haven't 'died' yet?" I asked, impressed.
Eddie's face reddened. "I got points docked because one of the teachers got close enough to touch the dummy, but that's about it."
I laughed. But inside my head, I wondered if Gregory and I had more fights in store. We barely did any combat last night. Did the teachers already know about my injuries? I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.
After an hour, it was time for a rest.
Gregory set me down and helped Eddie and Mischa set up a spot on top of a mossy rock outcropping. It was a perfect place to eat—as Greg continually pointed out—because it was hard to reach, hard to see, and had a great view of the trees around us.
Because the rock was so large, Eddie and Gregory took lookouts. That left just Mischa and me alone. I felt extremely awkward. I didn't know the girl, and I doubted she had that much on me.
But if she was Eddie's girlfriend, I wanted to make a good impression. As the corny phrase goes…something about a friend's friend is your friend or something close.
"Do you need aspirin?" Mischa asked quietly. She was sitting up, her back pressing the two sack dummies to the rock wall behind us.
"No," I said. "I'm fine."
Mischa nodded. Her eyes roamed the forest for any signs of trouble.
Something shiny caught my eye. But it wasn't from the trees. It came from her waist.
"What is that?" I asked.
She looked down, her hand falling to a metallic object. She pulled it out.
It was a stake. Not a dull practice one either. A real, Strigoi hunting stake. Even more so, it was beautifully carved with a diamond, gothic design around the base. Spiraling circles twisted around the grip to the very point.
"It's beautiful," I breathed, my eyes tracing the etched contours of the stake. I felt a tug of familiarity on my heart. Weird.
"Thanks," Mischa said. "My mother had a knack at designing stuff like this. This was one of her favorites."
Normally, I would feel really awkward and apologize about her mother's death, but something intrigued me.
"She died?" I asked quietly, trying to seem as timid and curiously innocent as possible.
Mischa nodded. "Not too long ago. She was on an assignment in Moscow, protecting a Badican politician. She was killed in the battle." A tear gathered in the corner of her eye.
I felt a pang of guilt. "I'm so sorry," I murmured.
Something kept pulling at my subconscious. It bugged the crap out of me. It was one of those feelings that occur when you forget something, but you don't know what.
"It's alright," Mischa sniffed. She rubbed her eyes and fingered the sharp point of the stake. "I'm well over her death by now." She was lying, but I didn't feel any reason to call her for it. I could see why Eddie liked her – Mischa was honest, compassionate, feminine-ish (can you really say any female Guardian is feminine, seeing that we can kick a guy's ass any day of the week?), and probably pretty strong if she survived five battles during the nighttime.
All of the sudden, I remembered. Seriously, I hated spontaneous recollections more than the forgetfulness itself.
My stake. The geometric pattern on the base. Moscow. The woman. Dimitri.
My mind began to put together each of the clues. It was like a mental jigsaw. Then, it all clicked.
Dimitri killed a woman in Moscow. The woman…could it be Mischa's mother—she would be same woman who made my stake…the pattern is so familiar. It's the same as the one on mine…
"Rose, you feeling alright?" Mischa asked, seeing my look of astonishment.
I shut my open mouth, nodding. While I didn't kill her mother, I felt incredible guilt and sympathy for Mischa. I couldn't tell her that it was my Strigoi tutor/ex-boyfriend that did it. She probably knew about my secret romance with him anyway. Everyone else did.
We just sat there. I didn't know what Mischa was thinking, but judging by her solemn expression, I was pretty sure it was about her mother.
But I had to ask.
"Do you know who killed her?" I whispered. My arms throbbed harder, as if telling me I shouldn't have asked that.
Mischa looked at me. Her green eyes were hard and dangerous.
"No," she said coldly. "Do you?"
I glanced away. "No," I muttered.
Her hand snaked out and gripped onto my shoulder. I hissed, feeling new pain shock my body.
"You know!" she hissed.
I growled. "Let go of me." I had to make a conscious effort to keep from using any profane language. It would only worsen the situation.
"You know who killed my mother," Mischa stormed. "Tell me."
"I don't know," I protested.
"Liar," she cried. "Rose, how can you lie to me! I need to know about this!"
"Even if I did know who did it, I'm not going to be an enabler for your suicide," I snapped. I tore my arm away from her grasp, ignoring the burning sensation in my shoulder.
"Suicide, huh?" Mischa's green eyes softened to speculation.
Damn, I cursed. I must've given something away.
"You know the guy then," Mischa murmured. "Someone who is strong enough to beat Mom. And someone you know? Someone who has fighting skills you can't match. Someone is Russia…who?"
God, it was like watching soap operas. You knew what was coming next. But by the time everything played out, you had already guessed the plotline several times.
"No way," Mischa exclaimed, keeping her voice low. "Guardian Belikov?"
I bit my cheek. That was all she needed.
Mischa laughed sharply. Her voice grated my ears.
"If I had known sooner, I wouldn't be here." She squeezed her stake hard. "I would be out there right now, hunting down the bastard." And then, under her breath, she muttered, "I'll kill him."
I was giving myself a mental facepalm. Over and over and over.
"Mischa, don't do anything stupid," I warned, trying to make my voice light.
No such luck.
Mischa gave me a look. I knew it well. I couldn't count how many times I'd worn the exact same one. And the words that followed it were always the same, no matter the person.
Says the *insert sarcastic nickname here*, I thought.
"Says the girl who fucked the guy and then dropped out of school to find him in Russia," Mischa retorted angrily. "I'm not going to stop even if he was your teacher."
I gritted my cheek. Don't explode, Rose. Calm.
"I made a mistake. And I made one again in Russia. I let myself get taken over by my ambitions." I gave her a hard look. "Don't repeat my mistakes."
What the hell? I sound like my mother. Since when did this happen?
Mischa opened her mouth to say something, but Eddie and Gregory returned from watch position.
"Time to go," Eddie said.
And with that, we packed up again, preparing for the last leg of the mountain. Everything seemed golden, I had to admit.
As we started walking, I kept glancing back at Mischa was had taken the rear position.
Before, her face had been calmer—more like she wasn't thinking about anything, keeping her face neutral.
What I saw now was the face of a woman possessed. She knew what she wanted, and because of me, she was determined to get it.
I had to wonder.
Back when I left for Russia, did I bear the same look as her?
[[A/N: So we have Mischa now in our cast of characters. Where does her revenge seeking, slightly disturbing, objectives come into play in this story? I have no idea. I don't write these things with a plan in my head. So keep reading for more spontaneous character drops and plot twists!]]