Sorry about the delay but this chapter was tough to write. I only got it back few hours back and I have to tell you Kessafan is a great beta.

We get to hear from Dimitri in this chapter and I hope you like what's going on in his head.

Many thanks to all of you who reviewed and I hope you do it again after this chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Academy or its characters. I just like to play with them!

Chapter 12 – Lost

Dimitri's POV

Rose. My Roza.

I couldn't believe it when I saw her picture in a magazine article about IT Security. And then it finally caught up to me – Rosemarie Ivashkov, not Hathaway. The instant jealousy I felt was like a knife through my heart; even after thirteen years I still thought of her as mine and the possibility of her being someone else's almost drove me insane.

I found her on Facebook.

Her profile was private so it didn't help me find out any more information about her then I already knew. So I created a profile under a fake name and sent her a friend request putting a picture of myself, although I didn't doubt she'd know it was me after taking one look at the name. And then I waited, hoping she'd accept. It wasn't till the next evening that she did and I couldn't hold back the grin that made its way on my face.

Yes! Now let's see if she'd talk to me!

I felt disappointed looking at the time; she'd be asleep now, so we won't be able to chat. I snooped around her personal info instead and I felt the jealousy tugging at my heart again – married to Adrian Ivashkov, son Eric Adrian... My fears were confirmed.

I looked at her pictures next for answers to the new questions assaulting my mind. How does she have a son? Didn't the doctors say they didn't think it was possible for her to conceive? Was her son adopted?

But as soon as I looked at Eric Adrian's face there was no doubt he was hers. The shape of his face, the colour of his hair, his skin complexion... they were all the same as Rose's. The only difference was the colour of their eyes – his were emerald green while hers were the most beautiful brown I have ever seen...

More unanswered questions started bubbling up in my head. Questions only one person could answer. Looking at the time once more, I decided I had to somehow get her to talk to me. So I wrote her a message. I needed to tell her how I felt about her; it could be my last chance to get it out there. I knew where she was but not where she lived and I was certain she could disappear again if she wanted, so I finished the message with the words I should have said thirteen years ago – I love you.

We started emailing often, remembering the past. I admit that it hurt when she ignored the fact that I admitted my feelings for her. She didn't speak about her husband a lot and didn't want to say much about her son either and it didn't take long for me to realize that there was something not quite right with her marriage. I wanted to know what it was but I couldn't ask her; she'd tell me in her own time.

I'd asked her to explain what happened – why did she change her mind and cut all contact with me. She was the most stubborn woman I'd ever met and once she made her mind up there wasn't much you could do about it. It was the one thing, in my mind, that confirmed my theory that something big and unexpected had happened and I really wanted to know what it was. I'd been left in the dark for too long and it was time she came clean.

Much to my relief she didn't run off and agreed to it; but asked me to bear with her and do it at her own pace. She started her story and then just dissolved in thin air.

*WWO*

I haven't heard from her for ten days now. To say I'm worried would be the understatement of the century; I am going out of my mind!

Is she running away again?

Has something happened to her?

Is she OK?

I'd sent her a few more messages, then emailed her but still got no reply. I'd started considering catching the first flight over there and trying to find her but decided against it – looking for someone in a city of six million people is time consuming and not easy; I settled for calling her at work. It was like trying to fight my way through an army of cut throat, armed to their teeth henchmen – that PA of hers sure knew how to do her job. I'd given up and left a message with her; a message I knew Rose would understand.

I haven't done much work so far today. It is a good thing I am working on some photographs and paintings for a future exhibit I am planning and not designing a new look or a creating a character for one of my clients. I soon give up and decide to just grab my laptop and do some photo editing in a nearby Starbucks with a view to the park. I can sit outside and enjoy the sun too that way; hopefully that will help me calm my nerves.

A few hours later, as I am finishing a set of pictures and pleased with my work, my thoughts return to Rose. I absent-mindedly close the programme and about to turn my notebook off when my eyes land on a folder I am sure was not there before.

What the fuck?

Ancient Greek Gods and Goddesses... Yes, definitely not mine. I open the folder and find two files inside – 'Black Magic Girl' and 'Instructions'.

Oh, hell, screw the instructions! I try opening the other file but it is password protected. Looks like I'll have to read the instructions after all...

"The password to the other file is the name of the Goddess your name originates from. You only have three tries, use them wisely" - is the only text in the file.

My heart speeds up as I realize this had to be Rose's doing. Demeter (or Demetra) has to be the password. Bingo!

"Don't call again. Don't write in Facebook. Don't email me."

My heart drops.

"Adrian is snooping around. De-friend me now."

Alarm bells start going off in my head. What is going on? Is she cutting me out of her life again?

"Delete the instructions file and use the same password to protect the folder. Then create a new file with the name Black Magic Girl 1. Use the name of the place where we met as the password. All files from now on will have that password until I tell you to change it. You'll get further instructions immediately if you answer correctly this question: What is the name of the so called Black Magic Girl? Think back and you'll remember, I've given you enough clues. You have one hour from the moment you opened this file. I'll be waiting."

I've done everything else, so now for the file. Black Magic Girl 1, password Vladimir's. Black Magic Girl, Ancient Greek Gods and Goddesses... Hecate, that's it!

I type it in, save the file and wait impatiently, keeping an eye on the new folder.

Ten minutes later there is a new file in the folder: BMG2. There is a phone number inside, a different e-mail address and a fake Facebook profile.

Please, only call in case of an emergency or if you don't have internet access. The e-mail and Facebook profile are brand new and no one else knows about them. The safest way for contact with me is a new file in the folder on your desktop. I've seen you use Skype, please don't if you can help it.

Don't use my real name. Call me Hecate only.

I know you have lots of questions but I can't answer them right now. All you need to know is that I am fine and there's no reason for you to worry. I apologize that I'm invading your privacy but I don't have any other choice.

If you don't want to talk to me any longer, just say so.

And I love you too.

Hecate

She was lost to me for thirteen years and now she thinks I won't want her and let her slip away again? Not a chance! Not after she just admitted she still loves me!

I want her back; I can't live with just the memories of her anymore... I've been losing my mind thinking about her for thirteen years, thinking she was gone forever.

But she's not lost to me... Not now, not ever again!

"Tell me more. I want to know what is going on. I love you!"goes in file BMG3 and I can't help but grin.

You really need to show me some love here guys, 'cause I'm not feeling it. More reviews get you more of Dimitri, and who doesn't like that hot Russian God!

Review, or I'll make Dimitri suffer!