—Requested Item: Rose and Dimitri go out for a night on the town to celebrate her birthday.
It's funny how life has a way of changing things up on you; I spent most of the last sixteen years planning for just one thing—protecting Lissa—never imagining that in a relatively short amount of time, my life would be turned upside down, skewing my goals and dreams in a completely unimaginable way. At eighteen, I'd thought nothing was more important than having finally achieved my dream of guarding my best friend—though I guess if I'm being completely honest, I have to say that being with Dimitri was equally as important too. I envisioned all of us spending our lives at Court while Lissa slowly changed our world for the better; I knew someday she and Christian would get married, eventually having the kids that I couldn't—and at the time, that was perfectly fine with me. I'd never planned on being a mother—I was content to be the 'cool' Aunt, spoiling Lissa's kids and teaching them things that would drive their father up the wall.
Needless to say… things didn't work out quite the way I'd planned.
"Penny for your thoughts…"
I smiled as I turned away from the window—after all, the view inside the car was way better than any stupid scenery. "Shouldn't that be like… a ruble or something? I mean… after all… we are in Russia."
Dimitri chuckled, his hand sliding over to claim mine. "Kopeks, Roza—I offered a penny because I don't want to explain the exchange rate again."
I ignored the teasing comment—I mean, it's not my fault that my eyes glaze over and I zone out whenever any sort of math rears its ugly head. I don't see why every country can't conform to using the same type of money—it would be a hell of a lot simpler and easier on everyone if currency conversion went the way of the dinosaur, aka extinct. See… Dimitri is under the mistaken impression that learning about Russian money is an easy thing to do. He's wrong—even after two years, my American brain just can't get the hang of it. After spending twenty years in the U.S. it's kinda hard to get used to the fact that something that costs a buck back home costs sixty three rubles here.
"Don't tell me you're worried already?" His hand tightened around mine as his lips twitched up in a smile.
"It's not funny," I huffed, irritated that he thought my anxiety was amusing.
"I'm sorry… you're right. You know… we don't have to do this—"
"Yes we do… I want to." It was the truth, but I was torn; it was the first time we'd really gone anywhere alone since before Anya had been born—I hadn't even cut loose on my twenty first since I was already four months pregnant with Ivan by the time my birthday rolled around. A part of me wanted to go out and celebrate, but at the same time, I didn't like leaving Anya and Ivan behind. I'd never have imagined that I'd have such a strong maternal streak in me—after all, it's not like my own mom was the greatest example of motherhood.
"You're not worried? At all?" I glanced over at him, frowning—it was hard to believe, especially when you took into consideration the fact that he'd spent the entire first week of Anya's life carrying her around; he'd held her nonstop, refusing to let her go unless it was time for me to feed her. He'd even slept sitting in the rocking chair, holding her close to his chest—afraid to let go of his precious little miracle for even a second.
"They will be perfectly fine—Vika and Adrian know what they are doing, yes?" He looked completely at ease, but I caught a note of uncertainty in his voice.
"Ha! You can't fool me, Dimitri Belikov." I crowed. It made me feel better knowing he was worried too. I didn't want to become one of those neurotic, overbearing mothers that obsessed over the slightest little thing—if Mr. Zen was anxious too, then it was a safe bet that what I was feeling was a relatively normal thing for a parent.
"Maybe I'm a little worried," he admitted, carefully pulling into an empty parking space and shutting off the engine, "but it's something I think we'll be dealing with the rest of our lives—for more than the obvious reasons. Eventually, we'll adapt… I hope."
I tensed—I couldn't help myself; he was right, we didn't just have to worry about the normal things parents faced. The fact our children were different—the only two offspring of a dhampir pairing—meant that there were far too many people interested in finding out what made them tick. It was why we'd left Court as soon as I realized I was pregnant, going completely off the grid. If the Royal Council thought I was going to stand by and let my babies be turned into lab rats, they were fucking idiots—I'd stake anyone who even thought about trying to take them from me.
"Easier said than done," I muttered, trying to shove aside my misgivings as I climbed out of the car. I was determined to have a good time for Dimitri's sake—he'd gone to a lot of trouble trying to plan something special for my birthday. I'd already spoiled his plans once—he'd wanted to take me out for a complete night on the town, starting with dinner in a fancy restaurant and ending in an overpriced hotel room; I'd vetoed the plan immediately, talking him down to just a couple of drinks. We'd compromised on an upscale bar that had a small restaurant attached, so we could order a couple appetizers if we got hungry.
As we walked away from the parking lot, heading towards the restaurant, my eyes were in constant motion—sweeping the area for any sign of trouble. Compared to my tense jaw and rigid posture, Dimitri seemed relaxed—but looks can be deceiving; my Russian god was just as alert as I was—he just managed to disguise it better, hiding it away behind a mask of bored indifference. We were always cautious whenever I set foot outside the wards—with good reason; when Dimitri was restored, he left some unfinished business in the Strigoi world—namely, the orders he'd put out regarding me. There were still plenty of Strigoi out there who were unaware he was a dhampir again—which meant they were still on the lookout for Rose Hathaway, hoping to grab me and deliver me to 'Giant Death' in exchange for his favor. It's not like I could blend in with the crowd, either—my exploits the first time I'd set foot in Russia hadn't exactly been low key.
Not surprisingly, the crowd in the bar was made up of humans; there weren't any establishment that catered to Moroi left open—for years, Novosibirsk was a danger zone, the streets practically crawling with Strigoi. As the largest city in Siberia and a major stop on the Trans-Siberian Railway, the constant influx of tourists and travelers meant easy hunting—providing them with a steady supply of blood and plenty of cash from their victims. And these weren't your normal, run of the mill Strigoi—they worked in groups, thanks to Dimitri's old mentor, Galina; though Strigoi were normally solitary hunters, she'd convinced them that banding together against the Guardians would give them an added edge, changing the status quo. When Dimitri killed her and stepped up to take her place, he'd taken it a step further, teaching them to fight, amassing an army of followers and setting up a network of contacts around the globe. Yeah… as hard as it is to believe, as a Strigoi, my Zen mentor had displayed a wicked Machiavellian streak, intent on world domination.
By the time we'd moved into the compound, the local Strigoi population had been culled quite a bit—cut almost in half, thanks to all the Guardians Abe had sent to watch over Lissa. Apparently, in a moment of uncharacteristic playfulness, my mother had made a game out of clearing the streets. During their time off, she and the other Guardians went hunting in groups of five, trolling for Strigoi the same way I'd done with Denis and the other members of his ragtag group of unpromised dhampirs. Once we moved in, Dimitri joined the game, and so did his cousin Savva, once he was restored; together they'd topped Janine's score in less than a week, tying for first place. After that, word spread among the Strigoi; they knew they were being hunted, so they cleared out pretty damn quick. Unfortunately, we still had to deal with the occasional drifter, lured by the promise of hunting the city without competition.
That's why I was on edge; it wasn't that I was scared—I was just overly conscious of the fact that there were two tiny little people waiting for us at home. Call me pessimistic, but I knew from experience that the worst could happen; even the strongest gods are capable of defeat—that was a lesson I'd learned when I watched Dimitri fall in the cave. If something were to happen to us, our children would be orphans, and though I knew Viktoria and Adrian would raise them as their own, it just wasn't the same thing. The Dragomir's had treated me like one of the family when I was a kid, but it didn't erase the feeling of loss that ate away at my insides; it never satisfied the ache of longing that I'd had, wanting my mother and father… a family of my own.
"Rose… we can go home—"
Dimitri's voice pulled me out of my dark thoughts, jerking my head around. "No, it's fine—"
"Obviously it's not—you haven't heard a single word I've said since we sat down."
I shot him an apologetic smile. "Sorry… I was just thinking about what would happen if we were attacked—"
"We'd fight, of course—"
"I mean… if we didn't make it," I said softly. "I don't want Ivan and Anya growing up the way I did… always wanting something that's impossible to have, you know? I was practically an orphan—"
"That's not going to happen Rose… and even if it did, their situation is nothing like yours was. They would grow up surrounded by people that love them—every single person on the compound is a part of our family, yes? Even Stan. He and Alberta and the others would make sure Utochka and Vanya grew up knowing how brave their mother was—"
"And their father," I put in.
"Yes… and their father. They would fill their heads with stories about all the things we've done… and I'm sure Adrian would probably chip in a few wild tales about how he met you."
"That's not exactly a comforting thought," I grumbled, shifting on my barstool.
"I agree… remind me to have a talk with him about keeping inappropriate things to himself." His lips curved up in a half smile—something about the look on his face clearly expressed that their little talk would involve threats of bodily harm.
Before I could point out the obvious—that his little sister would have a hell of a lot to say about him threatening to break Adrian's legs—the bartender called out something—a long string of Russian words that made Dimitri laugh. I hated not being able to understand the language—but even the simplest words in Dimitri's native tongue had been incredibly hard for me to learn.
"What do you want, my love?" Dimitri glanced over at me—smiling at the irritated scowl on my face.
I shrugged. "I don't know… a coke, I guess."
"Rose—"
"It's not like I can read the specials, Dimitri," I pointed out, nodding my head to the chalkboard that was covered in Cyrillic lettering. "You pick for me—just no Russian vodka. That crap tastes like rocket fuel."
He smirked, turning back to the bartender—calling out something that made the man chuckle; my scowl deepened—I had the sneaking suspicion the man's laughter had been at my expense. In an attempt to distract myself from the prickly irritation that was trying to take root inside me, I swiveled around on my barstool—watching the crowd to keep myself occupied while Dimitri chatted with the man behind the bar. The buzz of hushed conversations battled with the soft sound of violin music that was piped throughout the room; it added to the tasteful, elegant atmosphere—in other words, it was totally not my style.
A burst of feminine laughter drew my gaze towards a table in the farthest corner; the sound made my heart twist in my chest—it reminded me of Lissa's laugh. Not the crazy cackle that burst out of my best friend from time to time, but the happy, girlish giggle from when she was sane; despite my vow never to give up hope, I was beginning to think I'd never hear her make the happy sound again..
The laugh belonged to a pretty red haired human girl—she looked to be close to my age, though the distance and dim light in the bar made it hard to tell; I watched as she tossed her hair, leaning across the table to touch her companion's arm. My eyes flicked over to the man who was with her—immediately, I tensed, apprehension racing up my spine.
He was pale—paler than any Moroi, his skin was like porcelain, bleached of color; I couldn't see his eyes, they were hidden away behind sunglasses… inside… at night. My mind raced—was I jumping to conclusions? He could just be an ordinary human, dressing the part of a goth; he could be blind, or a pretentious poser who thought keeping the sunglasses on in the dim bar made him look cool.
As if he could feel my scrutiny, his head swiveled towards me; he flashed a smile my way—it was quick, lasting only a few seconds, but he made sure it was long enough for me to catch a glimpse of his prominent fangs. I tensed, adrenaline shooting through me—my body's flight or fight response immediately kicking into overdrive at the hidden challenge in that smile. It took every single ounce of my self control to pretend I hadn't noticed anything unusual—I forced myself to turn back around, my grip on the bar so tight it's a wonder I didn't leave finger shaped impressions in the highly polished wood. I could feel his gaze on the back of my head—the fine hairs at the nape of my neck prickled, standing on end.
"Rose? What's wrong?"
Ignoring the concern in Dimitri's voice, I glanced over at him, my mind automatically conjuring up a believable lie, twisting my lips up in my customary grin. "I just realized I left my purse in the car…"
"So? It will be fine—"
"My phone is in it—"
"If there's a problem, they'll call mine—"
"You're right… mind if I see it for a sec?" I drummed my fingers on the counter, watching him pat his pockets—waiting for him to catch on.
"It seems I… um… don't have it."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah… I know. The battery was low, remember? I plugged it in before we left—it's on the dresser at home."
"I can't believe I forgot—"
"Mhm… guess you were a little more worried than you let on, huh?" I held out my hand, wiggling my fingers. "Keys please."
"I'll go—you stay here."
"You can understand the bartender—I can't. I'll be five minutes, tops."
"I'm armed—you're not," he pointed out, his voice low so it wouldn't carry, mimimizing the chance of attracting unwanted attention.
"Wanna bet?" I shot him a challenging look, sliding off the stool. His eyes ran over me from head to toe—I smirked, snatching the keys out of his hand. "We can play find the stake later, Comrade."
His eyes narrowed; he looked like he wanted to argue, but since he'd spent most of the evening convincing me nothing bad would happen, he could hardly tell me it wasn't safe to walk a block and a half to the lot where the car was parked. "If you're not back within five minutes—"
"Damn Dimitri—you worry more than I do. Have a little faith in me—I'm not exactly helpless, remember?" I spun around, heading for the exit—keeping my eyes fixed on the door. Though I wanted to steal a glance over at the Strigoi, I knew if I did, Dimitri would spot him—which would definitely put a damper on our romantic evening out.
The heels of my boots clicked loudly on the pavement as I stepped out into the chilly night air; it was just my luck that the one time I decided to dress up turned out to be the night I should have shoved my vanity aside and opted for jeans. Luckily, my long skirt had a pretty high slit—something that was a must for ease of movement in a fight… not that I planned on actually having to do much fighting. The important thing was to be fast, for more than the obvious reason; if I took too long, Dimitri would come looking for me, and he'd be seriously pissed at the risk I was taking. I didn't want him upset, but his safety was my primary concern—it was way more important than his anger.
Despite my determination, my stomach clenched—there was a tight knot of apprehension forming inside me, making me second guess my plan. I wasn't used to feeling uncertain when it came to things like this—in all my years of dreaming up and successfully executing dangerous, reckless schemes, I'd never faltered once my mind had settled on a specific course of action. But that was before—back when the only person I had to worry about was myself. My being a Guardian had taken a backseat to being a mother—it had been more than two years since I'd engaged in any real combat. Yeah, I still trained, but sparring wasn't the same thing as confronting a creature that could end my life in the blink of an eye. I couldn't help but wonder if I still had what it took to be one of the best—or had motherhood softened me, dulling my killer instinct and making me weak? Deep down, I was beginning to suspect that was part of the reason my mom had turned me over to the Academy at such a young age; she couldn't afford to lose that instinct, and she sure as hell wouldn't allow herself to be distracted by thoughts of a tiny little girl waiting for her to come home.
Distraction could kill you just as surely as hesitation in a fight—you had to be completely focused on the moment, anticipating the slightest opening your enemy might give. Shoving aside the troubling thoughts, I concentrated on my surroundings—dismissing everything else from my consciousness except the anticipation I felt. It honed my sensed, spiking my adrenaline, giving me the razor sharp edge I'd need if I wanted to make it back to the bar alive.
Halfway down the block, I paused, glancing at the entrance to the alley; it was a feigned move, calculated to make me look indecisive—telegraphing the customary insecurity a woman would feel at being out on a empty street alone after dark. After a moment's hesitation, I veered into the darkness, my lips curving up in a predatory smile at the faint sound of footsteps behind me. I reached up, running my hand over my hair; it was an innocent enough gesture—one any woman would make when checking to make sure their updo was secure.
The air shifted—I closed my hand around the base of one of the sticks I'd used to hold my hair in place, tugging it out as I spun around to stare at the Strigoi; he was standing a little over a foot away, watching me with a look of cold amusement on his face. The sunglasses were gone—his eyes glowed like a cats in the darkness; the crimson around his pupils practically shining like a beacon.
"Rose Hathaway… how convenient of you to finally come out of hiding while I was passing through the city."
"I aim to please," I quipped sarcastically, tightening my hand around the stick. "In case you missed the memo, the bounty on me was called off. Dimitri Belikov is a dhampir again."
"Oh I know—I saw him inside. I understand congratulations are in order… two dhampirs breeding… it is a very surprising thing. They must be very… special children."
My pulse sped up at the hidden threat in the innocent sounding statement; I didn't like the thought of the Strigoi population knowing my children existed. "Hate to break it to you bud, but your information is wrong—"
"Your scent betrays you, dhampir. I can smell the lingering aroma of mother's milk on your skin, with the faintest hint of…" it tilted its head, sniffing the air "baby powder. A delightful combination—"
"Guess I should stop wasting money on expensive perfume then, huh?" Despite my snarky retort, I tensed even more; a muscle in my arm twitched—I was impatient for him to move. "Course, it doesn't really matter what you know, since you won't be leaving this alley."
Its eyes dropped to my hand—a burst of cold laughter echoed off the bricks and mortar around us. "Am I supposed to be afraid of your little… hair pin, Guardian?"
Before I could throw out another snide comment, it shifted, charging towards me; I flicked my wrist—hard—the silver hair stick telescoped out, just the way it was meant to, locking into the form of a thin, wicked looking shiv almost as long as my forearm. As I raised my arm, the Strigoi's eyes widened—it realized the mistake it had made a split second too late to stop the forward momentum of its body. My makeshift stake was thinner than one of Yeva's knitting needle, sliding easily between the creature's ribs—missing the heart by mere inches.
The look on the Strigoi's face was almost comical—its eyes bulged, mouth frozen open in a startled 'o'. I reached out, shoving him hard—he tumbled over, landing on his back on the pavement, unable to move a single muscle.
"Bet you're wondering why you can't move, huh? I mean, since I missed your heart and all and the stakes so small, right? Well in case you haven't heard… size doesn't matter—it's how you make use of what you've got. It's charged with all five elements—Spirit actually seems to increase the paralytic effect."
It made a noise—a wheezing sound; I tugged the other stick out of my hair, giving it a shake to extend it. "Pretty cool, huh? They're the latest thing for female dhampirs—see, it's really hard to conceal a stake in dressy clothes. These are a prototype—they're based on the tactical batons the police use. My old man wants to call them 'chop-stakes', but I think that's a little too corny, don't you?"
His eyes flicked from my face to the weapon I held; I smiled, kneeling down—lining up a killing blow. "Hey—at least you can die knowing that you helped me test em out, right? Might help even out your karma a little bit." I thrust upward—the body convulsed—the light fading from the creatures eyes.
After waiting a few seconds, just to be safe, I yanked out my weapons, using the Strigoi's coat to wipe them clean; a quick twist of the bases and they collapsed into themselves—innocent looking hair sticks again. I was winding them up in my hair when a chuckle sounded in the darkness behind me—I froze, waiting for the chastising to begin.
"Eventually you will learn that you can't lie to me, Roza." Dimitri moved closer, sliding his stake back in its sheath. "That was a very foolish thing to do."
"You're overlooking two very obvious things, Comrade… number one, he didn't stand a chance—I caught him completely off guard. Number two, I knew you'd eventually follow me. I used the quickest, most efficient means to get him away from a populated area—without risking any bystanders overhearing what was going on. Now… if you don't mind?" I held out my hand, wiggling my fingers.
His lips twitched as he dug into his pocket, pulling out one of the small vials that Abe somehow managed to keep procuring from his contacts within the Alchemists; it worked its magic immediately—yellow smoke rose up, rolling over the body, the chemicals turning the corpse to dust within a matter of seconds.
I scattered the dust with the toe of my boot, then flashed my handsome husband a flirtatious grin. "Well? I believe you owe me a drink, Guardian Belikov…"
"I told the bartender something had come up," he admitted softly. "I thought we might just move on to the next phase of our evening."
"What… going home?" I tried to raise a brow—judging by the amused look on his face, I didn't quite succeed.
"No… I took the liberty of booking that hotel room we argued about—just in case you changed your mind. And since fighting always tends to work up our appetites..." He glanced over at me, his face expressionless—Guardian mask firmly in place. "Of course if you'd rather go straight home, I understand completely."
I shivered at the look in his dark eyes; he was hungry all right, but it wasn't for food. "Take me to the hotel."
It surprised him. "Really? You're sure?"
"Mhmm… can't wait to unwrap my present." I shifted, moving closer to him.
He arched a brow, shooting a puzzled look my way. "I already gave you your present at breakfast this morning… remember?"
I stepped closer, sliding my arms around his waist—tilting my head back to flash him a wicked grin. "That's not the present I mean, Comrade."
"We're in public, Roza," he reminded me, lips twitching up in a smile.
"Better get me to the hotel pretty quick then—before I do something scandalous." I slid my hands lower, squeezing his muscular ass. "Patience isn't exactly one of my virtues, you know."
He moved almost as fast as a Strigoi, spinning around and tugging me towards the parking lot at the end of the alley; I chuckled softly, following after him—still feeling the heady rush of a successful kill. My moment of insecurity had been completely in vain—I still had what it took to be the best Guardian I could be. I wasn't Janine—I could have a family and my job, without having to choose. My children would always be safe, surrounded by family that loved them, and Dimitri would always have my back, insuring we made it back to our babies safely.
My eyes trailed over Dimitri's muscular back, gaze coming to rest on his ass; my lips curved up in a satisfied smile—the promise of an entire night of pleasure with my handsome husband sweetened the moment immensely. If all my birthdays turned out like this one, I might actually start looking forward to them for a change.
As I punched the unlock button on the key fob, Dimitri glanced over his shoulder at me, flashing me a smile. "Since it's your birthday, I suppose I have to let you drive for a change, yes?"
I grinned, stretching up to brush my lips against his; as I pulled away, he caught my chin, resting his forehead against mine. "A kopek for your thoughts, my Roza…"
"I was just thinking that I could seriously get into the whole birthday celebration thing," I chuckled softly. "Happy Birthday… to me."