The Unread
Chapter Three: Just Because He's Russian

At first I just ran.
And ran and ran and ran because what else was I supposed to do? I didn't stop to think, because duh, I'm Rose Hathaway, crasher of parties and (soon to be) killer of Russian guys, and also because every moment I wasn't running Lissa was getting further away, as did my chances of catching up to her. I sure wasn't going to gain any ground be standing still, that's for sure. I did have time to admire the Russian guy while I was running, however, mostly because I needed to find the weak spot in his perfect build, so as to better kick his scrawny Russian butt when I got to him. Which, as I kept repeatedly telling myself as I manoeuvred the subway tracking Lissa's scent, would be soon.

Not that I didn't hate him, of course I did. He had managed to simultaneously make a huge idiot out of me and steal Lissa away without a trace. Well, besides her scent, which I now knew from a mile away – Chanel No5. So when the floral taste of Chanel disappeared from my mouth, you can understand how much of a kill the Russian mood I was in. I stood at the edge of some state forest reserve that lay behind a river I had found when running, which at least explained the sudden off-cut of Chanel to my nose – any stretch of water numbed any scent, however distinctive. Whoever he was, this guy would have to have been experienced, a mentor at least. I mean, it's not as though I was looking in the wrong direction or anything ... he had me in the perfect place.

I couldn't keep running any longer, and as soon as I stopped the feelings I had suppressed caught up to me and hit me like a freight train directly to my solar plexus. I was Lissa's guardian. I was supposed to protect her from anything, the one she could depend on to keep her safe, and I had failed. There was nothing worse, and, really, there was no one else but me to blame.

It hurt to think like this, but it was the truth, and I wasn't really in a position to be lying to myself.

But now there was a decision to be made. Should I go on? Or wait until I get some sense into my head? Ha! As if there was ever a decision! Lurching forward with new resolve in my mind, I went to plunge into the forest. It was all going to be ok; I would catch up to Liss and give Mr. Russian a piece of my mind, and then leave him unconscious just because he was Russian. I would make it, and it would be soon. And it was, right up until a blinding pain pulled me to the ground, immobile with pain.

Yet another mistake for the list today: while I was standing still contemplating the meaning of life and Russian guys my legs, which had taken me so far in my search for Lissa, had instantly stiffened up and would take me no farther. I collapsed in a heap and didn't budge, though my mind was buzzing with pain and snippets of academy health class. Judging from previous injuries with this same outcome, resulting from me forgetting the basic lessons over and over again, it would take at least three hours to completely heal, and anything more would almost definitely end in a hamstring tear, a six week set back which I could not afford. So I was in for the night, with nothing to protect me but my strapless top and jeans. That, children, is what you get for rushing off without thinking – my whole situation just screams don't try this at home, doesn't it?

Now, I didn't want to dwell too much on a guy I hated but ... you know ... just because he's Russian ... I cursed him a few more times, then settled in for the night right where I was standing, at the fringe of the forest. I couldn't move for the pain in my legs, the cold biting at my shoulders and my conscience screaming at my heart. Once it began to get dark the thick fog of unconsciousness began to creep up behind me, until the world became monochrome. All the pain drifted away and my head begun to nod and my eyes closed.

The last thing I saw before I sank into sleep was a sentence, in blood red letters, floating in front of me in the gloom. It stood out with some meaning, and I strained to make it out through the haze of sleep. More sentences appeared, and I panicked, wanting to know what the words meant, needing to know. And finally, it did, fragments floating in my mind like a summer breeze. I tried to read it, to make it make sense.

Lissa Dragomir is a Moroi princess ... She must be protected at all times from Strigoi ... human and vampire blood ... Rose Hathaway is a Dhamphir ... dedicated to a dangerous life of protecting Lissa ...

It was true. All true. Was this my subconsciousness telling me something?

After two years of illicit freedom, Rose and Lissa are caught and dragged back to St. Vladimir's Academy, hidden in the deep forests of Montana ...

Wait. This wasn't right. Only Lissa was caught, I was still here!

Fear made Lissa and Rose run away from St. Vladimir's-but their world is fraught with danger both inside and out of the Academy's iron gates. Here, the cutthroat ranks of the Moroi perform unspeakable rituals and their secretive nature and love of the night creates an enigmatic world full of social complexities. Rose and
Lissa must navigate through
this dangerous world, confront the temptation of forbidden romance, and never once let their guard down, lest the Strigoi make Lissa one of them forever...

I shivered, even in the midst of sleep. I wanted it to go away. I wanted it to be unread.
That was not going to happen.

A/N: Yeah ... I haven't been updating in a while, but that's what you get when you don't review! Please, tell me what you think. Read, love, review!
-AD