Vampire Academy is all Richelle Mead's!

Dimitri and Malina watched them go.

"She's a force of nature."

Letting Katya leave with Zeklos without protest left Dimitri unbalanced, but he anchored himself on Katya's flawed but unshakable insistence on believing the best of the people she cared about. He could almost believe she was right. He envied the solid way she experienced the world. "She is."

Malina turned away and stared out the dark window, looking past their reflections into the blackness. Unsmiling, she pushed herself away from the table, avoiding looking him in the eye. "Come on, let's go for that walk. Katya's been really nice to me but I'm a little afraid of what she'll do to us if we don't."

She didn't say anything else, just dropped off her cafeteria tray and retrieved her coat, wrapping herself tightly in the thick wool. Dimitri followed her outside. Past the doors she stopped and looked up at the starlight, her face softly illuminated by the gaslights lining the path. A few strands of her long curls lifted in a brief gust of wind. Dimitri kept his hands to himself but his fingers twitched, wanting to touch the silky strands. He waited, irrationally worried about braving her hurt and anger.

She buried her hands deep in her coat pockets and set off on the path. Dimitri followed, and after passing just a few buildings she shook her head irritably. "Just walk with me. I won't take you ordering me around, but I don't want you following me like a guardian."

He caught up with her in two easy strides of his long legs and walked next to her in continued silence. They passed the mammoth, dark buildings of the central campus: a mismash of blocky, Soviet, cement utilitarian construction, European gothic architecture, and classic Russian, onion-domed beauty. The last building they passed was Dimitri's favorite: a small onion-domed chapel. There was a larger church on campus, an ornamented gothic cathedral more in line with historically European roots of their races, but Dimitri preferred the curves and colors of the small Russian one. Communist Party-required atheism from the old Soviet republic had passed Moroi and dhampir cultures by for the most part so both churches were well attended. Dimitri simply felt better in the smaller structure.

He stayed somewhat lost in thought, still automatically vigilant, glad that the silence was delaying Malina's anger. They passed the edge of the small forest that covered the north side of campus and made their way around the perimeter of the academy grounds. They were uncomfortably close to the ward boundary but he didn't protest Malina's route. No Strigoi had been found in the vicinity since the original sighting. On his own he would have chosen a different path, but he wouldn't suggest it. He'd overstepped with Malina too much; it wasn't his place to tell her where to go. He was responsible for keeping her safe, wherever she chose to be. If he were her assigned guardian he would have been in an even less enviable position – if she was harmed he would be held responsible for allowing her to choose a dangerous path, but he would have little true authority to influence her choices. He could suggest a safer route but if she chose danger it was still his responsibility to keep her safe.

They reached the physical plant, the site of the ward exercise, the jumble of massive metal structures, harsh lights, and deep shadows even more imposing without the crowd of Moroi and guardians. Wire fencing surrounded different pieces of machinery set up on cement slab foundations. The ground around them was bare dirt patched with scrub grasses and snow.

The lights and long shadows stretched and blended into the surroundings. Even with eyes made to see in dimness, Dimitri could see only so far. A few scrub trees lit up, but the rest of the light seemed almost swallowed by the blackness. The air and the ground beneath them buzzed and hummed from the electricity running through the plant, so pervasive that Dimitri felt it in his bones. His jaw ached and his legs tingled, like he'd pushed himself to far, too long, on a run.

Malina stopped by a chain-link fence that surrounded a generator the size of a small car. She shivered. "You're cold," he stated, apologetic.

"I'm fine."

He waited, dreading what she would say.

"You were a jerk tonight."

He shouldn't make excuses but he tried anyway. "I wasn't mad at you."

She shook her head. "That almost makes it worse. If you're mad about something else and taking it out on me…" she held her breath, and let it out slowly. "Then maybe I don't want to do this."

She wasn't yelling, but her quiet admission was worse. He realized he preferred her temper – at least then he knew she cared. It bothered him more than it should that she might end things between them.

"And don't say you'll try to be better," Malina cut him off before he could try to answer. "Katya's right. You have to talk to me."

He'd lost control, more than once. He owed her an explanation, even if Katya hadn't insisted. But what could he tell her?

She took another deep breath. "If you still want to be with Katya –"

"I don't." He interrupted. "I'm sorry. I had to say something to get her to leave me alone."

She wasn't reassured. "You could have said something else."

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I swear. I promise you. I'm not jealous of Katya."

She pinched her lips and held back her response, then shook her head irritably. He got the sense that she would have argued more, but she was afraid of the answer. "Great. So it is Ivan."

It took him a minute to process the comical resignation in her tone, and almost missed the undercurrent of how truly worried she sounded.

"No!"

"I thought he was joking. I can't believe I didn't see it before. You two just need to kiss and make up."

"No!" he repeated, unbalanced by the incomprehensible idea, the unresolved issue of Katya – at least for the moment - wiped away. "Who was joking?"

"Ivan. I was watching you and he was trying to be charming and he said you were gorgeous."

Dimitri couldn't begin to guess the new game Zeklos could be playing. He felt like he was far behind in a long-distance race, with almost no chance of catching up. "What exactly did he say?"

"Something like 'yes, he's gorgeous, do you think he'd consider a threesome'. I thought he was just trying to shock me to get my attention."

Dimitri could only assume that Malina was referring to the exchange on the bleachers when he's seen Zeklos make Malina laugh, finally getting past her caution. He couldn't wrap his brain around it – of all the possible things he'd imagined Zeklos saying to her, that hadn't been anywhere near the list. "What else did he say?"

"He said he was kidding, he liked blondes. Then he took the smooth route again and said that I was very pretty, that if I was available he'd be interested."

"What did you say?" He dreaded the answer, but he had to ask.

She blushed and squared her shoulders. "I told him if he was hitting on me he should know I hit back."

Dimitri laughed out loud, astonished at Malina's boldness and her apparent resistance to Zeklos's charm.

"He laughed too. He's not so bad. I've been avoiding him because you acted like – I don't know, like he was dangerous. But he's funny, and nice. So when do I get the wedding invitation?" Her tone was half joking, half annoyed, hoping she was wrong but afraid that she wasn't.

"Ivan's not my type." He tried to respond to Malina's tone, not his usual defensive, angry reaction to anything remotely connected to Zeklos. He took a chance and smoothed a stray strand of hair back from her face. "I've always liked brunettes."

"So Ivan Zeklos isn't your secret lover?" She still sounded cautious.

Dimitri kept his voice even. "The farthest thing from it."

"Then what?" she demanded, her temper flaring again, making him both relieved and helpless that he hadn't lost her - yet. "You've obviously got history."

The simple truth was easy, the full truth too complicated. He felt the same temptation he'd felt with Katya – to tell Malina everything. He knew better, though. He deflected the question. "The first time I ever talked to him was at the party. You introduced us."

She looked like she was ready to argue again, and again changed her mind. "I like him," she stated. Dimitri flinched. "I like you more. But I'm not going to avoid him."

Dimitri bit back his automatic protest. There was no way she'd believe him and he'd already done too much damage tonight. He should just let it go, try instead to salvage what he could to keep their relationship from derailing completely. But - "Just be careful. Don't trust him. He's a good actor, I know, just – don't ever be alone with him. Don't get taken in by his charm." Dimitri silently cursed himself for letting Katya take Zeklos back to her room, alone. He'd failed in taking his own advice. He could only continue to hope that it wouldn't start so soon.

Malina folded her arms across her chest. He'd messed up again, and he could feel her disengaging, the way all the other Moroi girls had. He'd always been relieved when the other girls hadn't pressed for more out of his brief time with them, but now he realized he had no experiences to draw on to stop Malina from leaving. "Don't tell me what to do. Besides, what's the worst he could do?"

There were too many answers to that question.

"Hey," he heard her say, but he was lost. His mind stuttered between the ghosts of his childhood, her solid presence, and how crushingly alone he felt today.

"Hey," she said again, squeezing his hand. Concern almost entirely replaced her anger and doubt, but he barely noticed. He tried to pull himself out of the flashback – he could see the sharp, bright edges of the machinery and the blackness beyond, he could feel the vibrations of the electrical current and machinery crawling along his skin – but he couldn't shake the way his throat closed in physical memory, and he couldn't un-see the violence. "Hey," she said a third time, softer. She touched his cheek, tried to catch his eye, tried to stop him from turning inward. He couldn't respond, couldn't make his mouth move, couldn't form the words to explain.

She stopped trying to get his attention and simply wrapped her arms around him, giving him the contact and connection he hadn't realized he needed. She pressed their faces together. Her cheek was cool and smooth and soft. For just a moment, he felt safe.

"Isn't that sweet?" A tenor voice called.