Vampire Academy all belongs to Richelle Mead!
Engines, floodlights, pounding. Running feet, followed by more floodlights. Hands lifting him, twisting his shoulder, screaming. More hands, pulling out his stake – he howled in outrage and the hands returned the stake with force, more expertly placed. Pulling him, carrying him closer to the buzzing, lighted physical plant. Back to Malina.
Battle training and protection exercises drilled into Dimitri since childhood kicked in – he had to be sure Malina was okay.
He scrambled to her and they grabbed for each other. "Are you okay?" she asked urgently.
"Why are you still here?" He cursed, shaking off the last haze of the endorphins. Malina's green eyes met his – clear and real among the chaos.
The ground pounded under his knees and he spun and crouched in front of Malina again. His stake was gone and it took him a few agonizing seconds to realize that the dark form crouching in front of him was one of his instructors, not another threat.
More guardians converged on them, but Dimitri saw only Malina. She threw her arms around him. "Are you okay," she repeated.
He assessed her quickly – no visible injuries, hands dirt-covered, eyes bright. He was numb. His heart raced. A hand appeared by his face and he flinched and twisted to guard Malina yet again, but more hands appeared and, disoriented, he let them help him and Malina to stand.
"We saw you on the monitors," one guardian said. Dimitri knew him, knew his name, but couldn't remember it. He was one of his professors. "We got here as fast as we could."
Another guardian, also a professor, surveyed the immediate area, "Talk when you get these two inside. I'll stay here and reconnoiter."
The third guardian assessed Malina, more closely than Dimitri had, but didn't separate them. When he was confident she was unhurt he assessed Dimitri, putting cautious traction on his shoulder, gentle fingers probing the bite on his neck. He continued to scan the immediate area. "Put some pressure on this." He clamped Dimitri's hand over the wound. It stung, and his hand shook.
His fear and fury slammed together in a roiling mess. "I told you to run!"
One guardian voice, low and soothing, was at his ear while another guardian stepped in front of him, blocking him from Malina.
Malina wiped her hands across her face, smearing more dirt. Her eyes were emerald-bright and her cheeks were tear-stained, her hair a tangled mess. She was absolutely stunning and Dimitri was absolutely furious with her. She glared at him around the bulk of the adult guardian. "I was fine. You were the one just about getting yourself killed.
"I was protecting you!"
"The ward would have protected us! You attacked him!"
"You didn't run!"
"You didn't either!"
She cursed fluently and inventively and sprinted for the darkness. Two guardians tackled Dimitri while three more raced after her. They didn't touch her, didn't stop her. Instead they assumed a protective formation, immediately encircling her, containing her and protecting her at the same time. He knew that they assumed she was hysterical.
Dimitri struggled against the guardians, his arms pinned at his sides. Only Nikitin's presence kept him from foolishly taking on all of them. "Let me go!"
"Don't you dare," Malina snapped at her guardians, fully royal. She was so angry she was shaking, and Dimitri felt his own fury dim in response. "How does it feel?" she demanded. "Watching me put myself in danger for no reason?"
The jeep-mounted floodlights illuminated the area brighter than sunlight, making it difficult – but not impossible – for a Strigoi to penetrate the area again. Her guardians watched around Malina warily, alert for any danger that might come out of the blackness. They remained in formation – for the moment. The floodlights made an additional attack doubtful – only the most determined (or insane) Strigoi would even attempt it - but it was as psychologically rattling for the guardians as it was for Malina to be beyond the protection of the ward so soon after an attack.
The actual danger was slight, however, and Dimitri knew Malina's behavior was unpleasant but acceptable under the circumstances. The psychological affects on a Moroi witnessing an attack were unpredictable, and if she gained some measure of control by confronting the danger it was permissible. Dissociation after an attack – numbness, flat affect – was predictive of later post-traumatic reactions. Active coping was preferred – though surprising in a Moroi. The guardians allowed it.
He modulated his voice, toning down his anger slightly. "It's not the same thing. I'm supposed to keep you safe."
Her voice lowered, but not her fury. "NO! I was not in danger. YOU were the idiot who went after him. I will not have you risking your life for me!"
She hadn't been terrified, she'd been angry. His anger dimmed further in his confusion. He was the top novice in the senior class. She'd watched him train and spar and been thrilled to see how well he fought. Novices were trained from childhood to guard Moroi. They come first. Moroi accepted as their birthright that dhampirs were meant to protect them. Malina not wanting his protection was as foreign and nonsensical and as baffling as a Moroi sunbathing at high noon, or a dhampir deciding to drink blood. He couldn't think of a thing to say.
Malina looked even more frustrated at his silence and his confusion. "Let him go," she ordered. The guardians released him without question and he covered half the distance between them in the time it took her to raise her hand. "No." she said. Her voice got quieter, less angry, but very firm. He hesitated. "Wait. Not because I'm ordering you, because I'm asking you." Her voice softened, and she looked him in the eye, emerald green glowing neon in the artificial daylight. "I'm fine. We have a school full of guardians to keep us safe – us. If you do anything like that again I will –" she searched the air for an appropriate threat – "I will go find some traffic and play in it."
Dimitri noted the sheen on her forehead, the glassy cast of her eyes, the tremor of her hands. Nikitin stepped into his field of vision – he'd seen it, too. "Miss Ivanskov," he said formally, politely. "Are you ready to go to the infirmary?"
"I'm fine." Her whole body was shaking.
"Humor us."
"Fine. As long as he gets taken care of first."
"We'll let the doctor make those decisions. Please, Miss Ivashkov, it's time to come back inside the boundary, you've made your point."
"Don't patronize me," she muttered. She wiped the back of her hand across her face and stumbling a little as she crossed the ward line.
"Wouldn't dream of it." Nikitin caught her arm and supported her as she doubled over to vomit. Another guardian was ready with a wet cloth.
Dimitri ran to her. "Dammit, kind of ruined the impact of my little speech," she smiled weakly.
"I just want you to be safe." He whispered.
"We'll talk." She retorted, still shaky.
"Come on kids, let's move." Malina's three guardians took her from Nikitin and guided her into a guardian van. Dimitri protested but Nikitin's hand on his unhurt shoulder kept him in compliance. Nikitin and two other guardians took Dimitri in the jeep with the floodlights. A handful of other guardians stayed behind.
Nikitin drove across the hard, cold ground, swerving around the copse of trees and over scrub grasses. "Interesting girl," he said over the noise of the jeep.
"A little crazy," one of the other guardians muttered.
"Maybe, but she had a point. Belikov, you are one of the best and most committed novices I've trained in over twenty years. But if you pull a stunt like that again I will have you pulled from the trials. There was no reason for you to cross the ward. Whether she wanted your protection or not, your place was with the Moroi. By crossing the ward, you put yourself in danger and left her unprotected."
"Yes, sir." He'd told Malina to go and she'd refused, but he should have gone with her. The wards would have held; he'd only been hurt because he'd let the Strigoi goad him into losing his temper and crossing the line. "Yes, sir."