Um, yeah. So I am on a VA kick at the moment, again, and this story has been bouncing around inside my head for awhile. Gonna be honest, I have never written a first-person narrative before. May be a little choppy here and there, so please bare with me. This is also my first VA fic, so again no tar and feathers if I get something wrong. Just a little shout out would be greatly appreciated.

This is gonna take place right after the "Love fades" comment at the church. This is before the death of the queen.

Hope you enjoy.

Chapter One

So, what does one do when their heart is brutally ripped from their chest by a man they had sacrificed everything for? Or when the one and only constant in their life severs years of friendship and loyalty with the precision of a surgeon's knife? Worse, when both these crappy situations happened on the same day?

No, seriously? Because apparently going on a six-month bender through a few states was the wrong answer. Most people, the rational ones I suppose, don't go sneaking off in the middle of the night without a plan. But with the pain, and rage cutting through me . . . I was only focused on putting as much distance between me and the Moroi court as I could.

Now I'm not saying I overreacted, I am way too stubborn for that, but I suppose I could have been just a little less dramatic. It wasn't like I was being held prisoner at court, and all I had to do was just walk right out the gate. But no, in typical Rose Hathaway style I had to be some sort of avenging ninja and sneak off the grounds in the dead of the . . . well I guess day.

For six months I had gone undetected, had been left alone with my horrible attitude, and in one night I blew it out of the water. What seriously rubbed me the wrong way, I had been surrounded by Dhampirs, not just a few, but an entire bar of them, and had been way too wasted to know. In my defense, the bar had been dimly lit, and who could resist dollar margarita night? Me, I'm the person who hadn't been able to resist. The sound system was crap, but with enough low shelf tequila I had stopped caring by the third drink and had staggered to the dance floor to show off my moves.

And by moves, I mean drunken stumbling. Which somehow started a bar fight. I still couldn't recall exactly what happened. But one minute I was being pushed, the next I was ready to land what should've been a spectacular upper cut, only to be plucked up off the dance floor and hauled away to the office. Another low, to be manhandled and hauled away like I weighed less than a sack of flour. But I guess some of my bruised ego recovered a tad when my eyes landed on who was manhandling me.

The guy had been nearly as tall as He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. So basically, he was a giant.

He'd introduced himself, and in turn I told him exactly where he could go, as I tried in vein to make it back to the door. Too bad the room decided to start spinning like a tilt-a-whirl at that very moment. After a few feeble attempts of trying to stand up from the chair, I mustered what I had left of my dignity and took the bottled water he was trying to kindly offer me.

That dignity, little I had left, fled quickly when the contents of the bottle and from that night came back up and right onto Duke Chapman's shoes.

Dollar margaritas may be okay going down, but coming back up they tasted rank.

"Oh come on." Looking down in utter disgust, Duke made a face, before slowly looking back up again. "Anyone tell you, you suck at accepting help?"

Not really sure if my stomach was done revolting; I had no other option then to nod my head.

Instead I tried to focus on him, as he toed his way out of his shoes, kicking them into the corner. When he was done, he eyed me again, as though he was trying to figure out what to do with me. "So what's a good Dhampir like you, doing in a place like this?"

This had sobered me up a bit, as his words turned my blood to ice. Steadying my gaze, I took in what was in front of me. He was tall, but I had already gathered that, but the longer I looked I was stunned to see, just like me he was a Dhampir as well.

His skin tone was nearly as dark as my own. He may have the height of You-Know-Who, but instead of douche bags bulk, he was structure was a tad bit more slender. His dark brown hair was in need of a good cut, but he got away with it due to his hair's natural wave. With his goatee, I guess he could be considered roguishly handsome.

"You might want to lay off the sauce for awhile." Duke smirked, shaking his head.

"I may actually take that advice." My throat felt raw, and another roll of nausea rolled through me.

"It's clear as day you aren't one of us, care to explain what brings you here to the Windy City?"

"Not really." This time my voice had been a little stronger.

Duke's expression softened, and dear lord above, I hated the pitying look on his face. "Do you have somewhere safe to go tonight?"

Again, I didn't have much to say, because I'm pretty sure he wouldn't consider the bedbug infested dive I was staying at safe.

Being much more sober than I currently was, he caught on pretty quick when I didn't answer. "Is anyone looking for you?"

For the life of me, I still don't understand why his words affected me like they did. Perhaps it wasn't exactly the words he spoke, but the way he looked at me. Besides the underlying pity, there was some sort of understanding, compassion maybe, of my current situation. What really struck me, was how he waited patiently, without a trace of judgment on his face.

But that didn't mean I was desperate enough to bare my soul to a complete stranger. Ready to tell him to mind his own business, the words got stuck, refusing to pass the lump in my throat. The tiny office grew unbearably hot and threatened to start spinning again. This time it wasn't so much the crappy margaritas, but my poorly neglected emotions I'd been shoving down and blatantly ignoring bursting through, taking both me and Duke by surprise.

Instead of telling him where to shove his unneeded sympathy and Good Samaritan act, I felt tears flood my eyes before flowing down my cheeks. After that, I hadn't been able to stop the utterly humiliating emotional break down. After months of avoiding the pain and utter betrayal I'd felt, they slammed into me, leaving me absolutely wrecked. As in ran over by a semi – that backed up, only to drive over me a few more times. The harder I tried to stop the tears – the more they came. I basically became every guy's worst nightmare.

But I had to give it to Duke, instead of shying away from the emotional train wreck that was currently me, he heaved a sigh and came to crouch down in front of my weeping form. "I had a feeling you were out of your element."

"What gave it away?" I gave a half-hearted snort, wiping my face on the paper towel he'd handed me.

"Listen, don't take this the wrong way." A wry smile tugged at his lips. "But you look like hell."

"Gee, aren't you a real charmer?" I wasn't really insulted, because my shit hole motel room did have a mirror.

"See you took it the wrong way." He smirked, wagging a finger at me. "I wasn't talking about your physical looks, which we both know are stunning, but I was referring to your emotional state. You are a mess, and somehow it's landed you here."

For whatever reason, after that night Duke had made me his special mission. Personally, I think it's because he's a nosy busybody, and just wanted to know my backstory. He claims it's because he'd been where I was. Had been destroyed in the past and had hit rock bottom as well. Either way he helped me, even if I didn't want his help, and I was soon employed. Sure it was at that dank, moldy smelling hole in the wall bar, The Gypsy, but it was either work there, or sell another piece of jewelry from my excursion in Russia.

"Are you going to just stand there?" Coming to stand next to me on the busy sidewalk, Duke folded his arms over his chest.

Giving the double doors in front of us one last look, before turning my gaze up to his, I felt my mouth pinch. "This is stupid."

"You know what's stupid?" He asked. "Me having to hold your hair back every night as you puke."

"I told you I don't have a drinking problem." I muttered, looking away from his gaze.

"Well you also don't have a sober problem either." He scoffed.

I knew he must think I'm some horrible lush, I mean how could he not? But in my desire to keep my past firmly behind me, I'd taken a page out of Adrian's book and started self-medicating. Alcohol helped weaken the bond between Lissa and I, while sleeping pills at night kept Adrian out of my head. Unlike Adrian, I wasn't a good drunk to be around. Actually, I was probably the worst day drunk in the world.

"I don't drink because I want to."

"Says every alcoholic." Rolling his eyes, he motioned toward the doors and waited for me to move.

He got to the door first and had it open before I even reached the sidewalk. Dragging my feet on purpose I should have anticipated his pushing me into the building before I could come up with another excuse to delay the inevitable. "I don't see why you can't let this drop."

"Because I made the mistake of introducing you to my wife, and for whatever reason, she seems to like you." Stopping in front of an elevator, he pushes the up button. "This is her idea."

I'd met his wife, Jennifer, a about a week after I puked all over Duke's converse. She was about my height; with the largest brown eyes I'd ever seen. Like Duke and I, she was also Dhampir. Through my buzz I had felt a moment of shock. Two Dhampirs, married?

If I'd been shocked to find two of our kind married, it was nothing compared to what I felt when I met their two children. A son and daughter who'd been born from two Dhampirs. I'm still puzzled over how that was even possible, but there was so much I was learning about the life outside Morio court that it was tough on my fermented brain to keep up.

"So who's this guy?"

"Jack." Stepping into the elevator, Duke made a face. "He's a pain in the ass, but Jennifer's friends with him."

"You really know how to inspire faith, don't you?" Feeling sullen, I followed him in and quickly used the back wall to lean against.

"Jack's not really that bad, he's just . . ." Pausing, his mouth pulled down in thought. "righteous. I'm just not into all that religious stuff."

My thoughts drifted to the last time I'd been in a church. "Can't argue with that."

"Rose I know this sucks. I don't even agree with it. But until you can trust us, you need to talk to someone."

"I'm buzzed and can see the problem with that logic."

"Yeah, but just think. After this we get to go back to my place and have some of Jen's homemade mac and cheese."

Jennifer's home cooking did sound pretty awesome.

Finally reaching the third floor, Duke waited for me to exit first before following. It was as if thought I'd make a run for it or something. Perhaps in my former life, I may have waited for him to step off before shutting the door after him. But right now, he had the advantage . . .he was sober.

Before I knew it, we were standing in what could be considered an ordinary office. A bland ordinary office, but it could've been the most elaborately decorated office and I still wouldn't want to be here.

"You must be Rose." Turning to look to the other side of the office I blinked a few times, trying to convince myself my eyes were working correctly. But no matter how many times I blinked, what I was seeing didn't disappear.

"You're an Alchemist." Can't say who was more shocked, me, the alchemist or Duke.

"I'm just gonna wait out there." Already moving toward the door, Duke gave Jack a look that almost looked apologetic.

"What?" I exclaimed, as he got to the door. "You're gonna just leave me alone with him?"

"Yes." Duke responded slowly. "That's pretty much how counseling sessions work." With that he was out the door and quickly shut it.

"So, first session?" Jack asked amused from his spot behind the desk.

Turning back I studied him for a quick minute. I could see what Duke had meant; he had that typical Alchemist righteous air about him. He kind of reminded me of Sydney when we first met, as he studied me back.

"Just so you know I've done this therapy thing before and it didn't really stick." Trying hard not to fold my arms over my chest, knowing it made me look defensive, I kept them at my sides. I was going for more of a nonchalant, casual thing. I may have pulled it off if I could have just stopped swaying.

"Just so you know, this isn't really a normal therapy session." He looked almost amused by my uneasy expression.

"You do realize that sounds rather creepy, right?"

"Just one of the many perks of my job." He responded dryly, opening one of the drawers of his desk and retrieved two vials of herbs. He dumped the first one into a glass of water and held it out to me. "Why don't you take a seat before you fall over?"

Looking over to the empty chair across from his desk, I took a moment before giving in and taking a seat. Looking at the glass, I narrowed my eyes. "What's that?"

"It's a quick working detox."

"What?"

"Think of it as Sober-Up potion." He sighed when I didn't respond. "Harry Potter? You can't take the second herb unless you're sober. On the plus side, your kidney's and liver will thank you for the reprieve."

Staring at the offered glass, I felt a moment of panic. "What's the second herb for?"

"You might want to be sober before I get into that." He sent me a dry smile, but his eyes still had a spark of amusement.

So, perhaps not like Sydney. She would've thrown out a few unholy demon barbs by now. While he on the other hand seemed to find my anxiety charming. I wanted to throw the contents of the glass in his face and march out of the office with my head held high.

Instead, I snatched the glass from him and chugged it down. I was choking by the time my taste buds had caught up. "That's vile."

"So is making it a habit to day drink." Jack threw back sounding like a typical righteous prick. "How're you feeling?"

It took a few seconds, but an odd sensation washed over me. The foggy feeling of my pickled brain evaporated, and the world around me seemed to come into brilliant focus. That part wasn't so bad, seeing I felt more in control of my body than I had in months. The part I wasn't thrilled over was how the bond seemed to poke at me, just slightly, but enough to remind me it was there. I had a feeling the longer I stayed sober, the stronger the bond would grow.

"Could be better." Handing back the glass, I watched as he poured water from a bottle before adding the other herbs. "Is that really necessary?"

"Are you willing to forgo months of pointless sessions and just get to the meat of your issues so we both can move on?" Jack challenged.

"Actually, I was looking forward to slinging a few sarcastic comments, eluding your questions and most likely not come back." I couldn't help the words, because I was only here to appease Duke and Jennifer.

"I assumed." Nodding in agreement, Jack sat back and stared at me intently. "But there's more on the line today than just helping you. We need to know if we can trust you."

"We?"

"That, we can get back to. But for now – ." Lifting the glass and holding out to me, Jack gave me a speculative look. "Either way you need help, whether you want it or not."

Eyeing the Alchemist concoction, a memory of a dark Russian alley, a dead strigoi, Sydney and her strange Alchemist concoction nagged at me from the back of my mind. Knowing my shit luck, the second glass Jack wanted me to drink would liquify my insides to goo. "What does it do?"

"Think of it as Veritaserum."

"That sludge is going to make me tell the truth?" Where the first glass had only had a slight brown tinge, the second had a gross green color.

"Ah, so you do know Harry Potter." He smiled wide at this.

I wanted to make some sort of comment on his virginal status, but my attention was too focused on the glass in front of me. If it could do what he was claiming, I could unload enough information to land me back in Morio court, and undoubtedly a nice life sentence in a certain Alaskan prison.

"People actually agree to drink that crap?" I could hear my own skepticism.

"Most of them do." Some of the amusement left his eyes.

"And whatever I say is confidential?" His mention of "we" was still repeating in my head.

"Yes."

Ah, I got him. "What about this "we"? Won't you be sharing information with them?"

I expected a startled look, or one that said "oh shit I've been caught". Instead he sat back and shrugged. "As for the "we", I just let them know if you're safe to share certain information with. I'm sure even in your inebriated state, you've got some questions."

Questions? Like a mostly Dhampir bar, that served patrons who weren't Guardians? Or Dhampir's being openly married. Then there was the biggest question of all – how in the world had two Dhampirs procreated?

"Rose, what do you have to lose?" Jack asked when I apparently took to long. "If I feel you're a risk you go back to drinking and working at The Gypsy."

"It's a stupid name for a bar." One would think that with the name Gypsy, the bar would be a little more interesting or even mysterious. Instead, it was one code inspection from being shut down.

A smirk tugged at Jack's lips. "So, what do you say?"

Letting out a long breath, I reached over and picked up the glass. "Why the hell not? But I'm warning you, if you're drugging me so you can sell me into some foul sex trafficking ring, I will kick your ass."

"Gee, you caught us." Rolling his eyes, Jack let out a dry laugh. "Whatever shall I do?"

If the first glass tasted rank, the second was like draining toxic slime. For a second I became frantic, thinking that perhaps my insides were going to turn into goo. But after a moment the taste receded.

"So, how'd that taste?" Moving around the desk, Jack took the empty glass from my trembling hand and sat it back down on his desk.

"Like you were trying to poison me." I wanted to say it tasted like something he found in a port-a-potty, but instead my fear of him harming me came out. What if this really was some seedy underground trafficking ring? Or, perhaps the Queen had put a price on my head for my little outburst at court.

He rolled his eyes again at this before returning to his seat. Picking up a pen his got down to business.

"For the record what is your legal name?"

"Rosemarie Hathaway." This time I wanted to answer just plain Rose, but instead felt compelled to give him my full given name.

This seemed to make him pause a moment. "So Rose is your real name?"

"Yes." He jotted down a few notes. "Why?"

"I find most use aliases." He answered. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

Sitting back in his chair, Jack looked thoughtful for a moment, before asking the next question. "Why are you in Chicago?"

A sarcastic comment, along the line of wanting to see what all the hype was about over some stupid hotdog started to form inside my head, instead I suddenly seized by word vomit. "I'm in Chicago because I got onto the wrong bus in Detroit."

Didn't mean to admit that and was starting to see how this truth drink thing was working.

A dry laugh escaped, as Jack jotted down a few lines. "So, you're from Detroit?"

"Nope." Huh, who knew this truth telling stuff would be so easy-peasy?

Chewing on his bottom lip, he took a moment to ask his next question. "What do you know about the attacks in Detroit?"

"What attacks?"

"The strigoi attacks." Talking slowly, as though I had a mental disability, I wanted to use my extraordinary use of sarcasm in retaliation.

"I didn't see any strigoi." I really hadn't. The functioning portion of my brain tried to recall my time in Motown. There had been another filthy motel, a handful of bars who didn't really care about serving someone underage, and a great greasy spoon dinner that served the best sausage biscuits and gravy.

"Interesting." Jotting down a few notes at this he took his sweet time before looking up. "Rose, why do you drink?"

Perhaps this wasn't going to be all that easy after all.

Opening my mouth, I found the words I did not want to say starting to form. Snapping my jaw together, I gripped onto the arms of the chair, digging my nails in while I tried to control myself. A slight throb started directly behind my left eye.

"Rose don't fight it." Jack warned. "Why do you drink?"

"Because I need to quiet the bond between me and Lissa."

So didn't want to say that, but the confusion etched on Jack's face was almost worth it. Almost.

Blinking a few times, Jack's expression started to clear. "What do you mean by bond?"

Sweat started to bead onto my forehead. "A Spirit bond."

"Sweet baby Jesus." Picking up his pen again, he took a moment before writing anything down. "Are you . . . shadow kissed?"

I did not like this ride, and I wanted off. Before I'd been concerned with him finding out about the jail break, but now he was in an area I did not want to talk about. Not at all. But I couldn't stop myself from answering.

"Yes."

Dread filled me, waiting for him to start asking additional invasive questions, instead Jack shocked me by letting the matter drop.

"What do you know about the Travelers?"

My brain skipped a beat, almost like it was taking a slight recess to filter through anything relating to his question. "As in insurance?"

This time Jack did laugh. "No Rose, not insurance." He chuckled a little bit more. "Okay, bear with me, just a few more questions."

"I don't like this." Oh boy, I did not like this.

"No one does." Jack replied. "Is anyone looking for you?"

Duke had asked me the same thing before. "I don't know." And that was the truth. I had no clue. But by this point, I highly doubted it.

"How do you know about Alchemists?"

"I met one in Russia." Slightly impressed with myself for not giving up Sydney and how she'd helped me, I kept my mouth shut, waiting for the next question.

"Rose, what else are you keeping secret?" For his credit, Jack looked just as uncomfortable as I was.

"Can we stop playing this game now please?"

"Last question, I promise."

The sweat on my brow was starting to bead, while the buzzing behind my eye turned into a dull thud. What else was I keeping secret? Was this guy for real? Like what about my life wasn't a secret at this point? Do I start with when I died and Lissa brought me back? No, I'd just answered that. Or when we were compelled to leave the academy by another Spirit user? When D – He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named came and dragged us back?

So, I simply opened my mouth and everything just came spewing out. I couldn't stop once I started. I told him about Lissa, what we'd been through, our bond, what had transpired from the time we left the Academy, got dragged back, up until we graduated, and Vladimir help me, I even told him about breaking Victor Dashkov out of jail and finding out how to turn a strigoi back.

Praying I could just stop there I felt my heart explode as I began confessing my relationship with "him". Dimitri. Tears were threatening to fall, but whatever control I had over myself stopped them. I'd sworn to never cry over Dimitri again. By the time I got to the end of my horrible tale, I was relieved when I reached the part where Lissa and Christian had saved Dimitri. How he hadn't wanted to see me, and Lissa had turned into his protective guard dog. That I'd pushed until Dimitri admitted that his love had faded.

By the time I was done talking, I felt lightheaded and extremely thirsty. Which was saying something, seeing what happened the last I drank something Jack gave me.

Jack took a few more seconds to write some more stuff down, and when he was done, he set his pen down and lifted his head. "Is that all?"

"Are you kidding?"

"Yes." He exclaimed and ran a hand through his hair. "No wonder you drink. I'm surprised you aren't taking anything else."

"I drink because of the bond, I take sleeping pills to keep Adrian out of my dreams."

"I see." A small smile spread over his face. "I didn't ask if you were taking sleeping pills."

"Like that matters after everything else I told you." Lifting a brow, I couldn't help but smile back. Amazing after the emotional beating I'd just endured.

Jack sighed. "The bad news, you're going to need several more sessions."

"Aren't you supposed to start with the good new?" It was like a law, right?

"The good news." Shaking his head, Jack reached inside one of his desk drawers, and pulled out three more vials.

"You can't be serious." Making a face, I tried to stand up, but stopped when Jack held up a hand.

"One is to remove the effects of the last drink." Putting it into a glass before adding water, I was already reaching for it and drinking down the contents as fast as I could. Jack looked impressed. I was almost impressed too. The water tasted fantastic, with only a slight mint aftertaste. "These two are to help you from having to . . . self-medicate."

"I don't understand." Uneasy, I reached out and took the items from his hand.

"If you're going to be any use to the Travelers, we need you not to be a drunk, pill popping addict."

Phew, there. Next part we get to see what the others at court are up to, and what our new friends the Travelers are all about.