The last two and a half weeks had been hell! The Strigoi group the Alchemists had been tracking veered away from the ranger's station and our location, so we were back to training and hiking to the cabin every second day and generally just living.
I'd thought about Eddie's comments about my birth certificate, so had rung Court and arranged to get a copy. I couldn't exactly have it sent here, so after a call to Lissa, I'd arranged to have it sent to Christian and Tasha's place. Lissa had strict instructions to call me as soon as the certificate arrived, and open it while on the phone to me. When I'd explained to her I was trying to find out where I was born and maybe information about my father, she'd understood.
Before I'd made the decision to request the information, I'd made a final disastrous attempt to ask my mother about my heritage. I did manage to find out a little about my grandparents. My grandfather had passed away when Mom was in her early teens. A random Strigoi attack which had also killed his Moroi wife and my mother's Moroi half-siblings. He'd left my grandmother - his long term Dhampir mistress - the rural property where my Mom had grown up. My grandmother had followed him nearly a decade later. The victim of a freak accident, she'd died only months after I had been born.
I'd been fascinated to hear these precious snippets of information. After knowing nothing for so long, learning even the most basic of information about my forebears was exciting. I'd eagerly pressed my mother for more details – my place of birth or the name of my father – only to have her completely clam up, refusing to divulge anything further. It honestly felt like one step forward, two steps backward - which is why I decided to request information for myself.
Of course, the tension between Mom and I was far from the only thing causing discord in the house. The rivalry between Elizaveta and I had grown rather than abated. While we didn't train together often, when we did it was brutal. Dimitri ended up being an adjudicator more than a trainer. She hated that almost every time I was the victor, and it also didn't help that she was fiercely protective of Artyom, and was angry that I was not returning his love interest. At best she and I ignored each other, at worst it descended into petty squabbling. And then there was Guardian Alto…
We'd been on our mission almost three weeks when an enraged Stan had come thundering into the kitchen one afternoon, interrupting Blake and I as we made a roast beef and bread and butter pudding under Dimitri's careful supervision. Almost foaming at the mouth, Alto was vociferously demanding I return his underwear.
Dimitri, knowing me as well as he did, immediately looked at me with suspicion; however, I was genuinely innocent of Stan's accusations. While it was clear someone had removed his underwear from the communal clothesline, it certainly hadn't been me.
An ugly Mexican standoff had persisted for over an hour; Stan demanding I return his briefs, me staunchly denying any knowledge of their whereabouts. It was only Mom's arrival back from the ranger's cabin with Eddie and Artyom that ended the dispute. Eddie quickly explained he'd been convinced it was going to rain, so had collected Stan's items from the clothesline when he'd fetched his own, and that Stan's underwear was folded and on the end of his bed.
Stan's apology was grudging, albeit genuine. Mom looked a little irritated he'd been so vehement in his assertions against me, when they were so patently untrue. But then, she wasn't aware of all the pranks I'd pulled on Alto over the years, so I couldn't blame him for jumping to conclusions!
I was sitting with everyone in the library that evening when the anticipated call from Lissa came. Racing upstairs to get some privacy, I threw myself down on my bed while Lissa nervously opened the envelope.
"At the top it says excerpt, then lists your Mom as your mother, place of birth just says the United States of America and the area under father is blank." I could feel Lissa's sympathy through the bond. She knew how important this was to me.
"Then I guess I'll never know," I said fatalistically.
"Could you try asking your mother again?" Lissa suggested, ever the optimist.
"I don't think so. She made it pretty clear she wasn't going to tell me anything," I said, trying unsuccessfully to stop myself from crying.
"Maybe it's not important?" Lissa suggested. "You haven't known who he was for all these years. Why do you want to know so much now?"
"I think with the Academy closing, and the prospect of leaving St. Vladimir's for good made me realize I don't have anywhere or anyone to call home."
"You have me! My home will always be your home," Lissa said generously.
"I know, but it's not the same," I said forlornly. "I want to know where I come from."
We talked for a few more minutes before I dried my eyes and went back downstairs. Dimitri noticed my red-rimmed eyes, but I shook my head, indicating I didn't want to talk about it. I spent the rest of the evening sitting on the hearth assiduously avoiding Artyom's attempts to engage me in conversation, and pretending not to listen as my mother told Guardian war stories to the fascinated other Novices.
"You ok?" Eddie asked as we climbed the stairs together, the first to say our goodnights and retire to bed.
"Not really. I ordered my birth certificate and had it sent to where Lissa's staying with Christian. Lissa opened it, but it only has my Mom listed and has my place of birth as the USA. Nothing I didn't already know."
"I guess your father didn't sign your birth certificate forms, then," Eddie said sympathetically.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, he'd only be listed if he'd also signed your birth certificate application. Otherwise, a mother could claim a child was anyone's. If you can get your hands on the original documents, your Mom might still have named him, though. They encourage all Dhampir mothers to list the father, even though a lot of Moroi men never sign to legitimize their offspring."
"Can I get the original at Court?" I asked. "Maybe I can send Liss to look at it?"
"No idea," Eddie said, "but it's 11 pm there now. You could ring them and ask?"
Giving him a grateful hug and a kiss I bounded off to my room to do just that.
"Stan? You know how you said the Alchemists keep records about Moroi, Dhampir, and Strigoi? What type of information do they keep?" I asked as the two of us were out the back chopping wood.
"Why the sudden curiosity?" Stan asked with suspicion. I guess he wasn't used to me asking him for information about anything Guardian related. But the guy was a walking, talking encyclopedia when it came to Guardian protocols and practices, so I was hoping he'd be clued in about the Alchemists, too.
"Just curious. After going into their building, I kinda wonder what they might do in there." It was the truth - just not all of it.
"Well, we don't really know," he admitted, stopping to scratch his ankle. "The purpose of the Alchemists is to keep the Moroi world hidden from the humans, but precisely all that entails is not clear. All Guardian reports relating to Strigoi are copied to them, they're informed of all Guardian allocations, many original Royal documents are provided to them, plus they get a copy of all Dhampir and Moroi birth, death, and marriage registrations. Many believe they keep detailed files on every Moroi, Dhampir, and Strigoi, but of course, we can't know for sure. What is known is they have vast digital databases where information about us and our world are held."
Quickly changing the topic now I had the information I required, I steered the conversation in another direction.
"So how come they have a property like this here in the middle of nowhere? It's hardly a thriving hotbed of Strigoi activity. There's nothing for miles in any direction."
"The Alchemists have always been reclusive, and prefer to stay as far away from our world as possible. The role is passed down through families, so if I had to guess, I'd say this was probably an Alchemist family home at one time, but as technology changed so have their needs, hence the new building."
It made sense. Why else would anyone have such an old, ornate house up here, fully furnished and maintained, yet not used?
"Why do they hate us? I mean, surely they can tell we're not like Strigoi?"
"They see all non-humans as evil aberrations. While there is a degree of cooperation with Moroi and Dhampir, and they help us conceal the existence of Strigoi from the humans, at the heart of things they see us all as amoral creatures who don't deserve to exist."
I shivered slightly. It explained the tension and undercurrent of fear from the girl and then the man when I'd seen them. They literally thought me, and my kind were the product of the devil.
"… this sort of move is particularly useful against opponents who use their arms offensively more than they do their legs; and in my experience, men tend to use their legs less against women," my mother said to Meredith and Elizaveta, demonstrating a fighting move. "Alternatively it's useful on a tall opponent, and being female many of those you fight will be taller than you…"
It was Friday, and Mom had given us all an afternoon off on the roster. Stan, Dimitri, Eddie, Artyom, and Blake had decided to play poker in the library, but I wasn't in the mood, so I'd gone looking for the girls to see if they wanted to do something. Not finding them, I decided to do my washing. I was downstairs loading the machine when I'd located Mom with Meredith and Elizaveta on the back lawn – Mom giving them a master class.
I opened the back door quietly, standing inside listening to Mom give them more tips and tricks. Elizaveta was thanking Mom for all the pointers.
"Rose is so lucky! I wish my Mom knew about combat. Thanks for teaching us, Janine!"
Not only was my Mom giving the Russian bitch pointers, they were apparently not on first name basis, too!
"That's alright. Women are already at a disadvantage when it comes to fighting – I'm happy to do anything I can to help you girls even up your chances," my Mom said with a grin.
I stepped out into the backyard.
"Nice to see you running a girls' class without me. Should I take from that you don't consider me female, or just that I'm not worth teaching?!" I asked sarcastically.
My mother looked up at me with an exasperated look.
"For goodness sake, Rosemarie! Elizaveta asked for some pointers, and I suggested Meredith join in. No one was purposely excluding you. Sometimes it isn't about you!"
I can't believe she tried to put this back on me! It's like no matter what I did, no matter what I overlooked or forgave her for, she'd just find new ways to show me how unimportant I was. And with that, I let go of all the resentment I'd been holding in.
"Oh, but it's never about me, is it? It wasn't about me when you forgot my birthday. Do you know how fucked up it feels to spend the day with your mother, and her not once remember it's the day you were born! I mean hell – it's not like we share much, but I kind of thought it might be something that would stick in your mind!"
"That's totally unreasonable, Rosemarie. I explained that with the attack and this mission I just forgot!"
"Yeah? And what about the other years? I've not once had a card, visit or even a phone call. Did it slip your mind every other year, too?! And Christmas? I would have thought the big turkey dinner might have given that one away? And what's with you happily sharing stories about your family with strangers – stories about people you refuse to even tell me about? And it wasn't about me when you dumped me at an Academy at four years old, not ever looking back! You got pissed when I called myself an orphan. You said I wasn't one, and you're right. At least an orphan at some point in time had a parent who loved and cared about them!"
I was roaring by now, and I could feel rather than hear the guys come out of the library and through the kitchen into the mudroom to ascertain what was going on.
"You're blowing this completely out of proportion," my mother blustered, her face getting as red as her hair. "I should have known you couldn't be trusted to be professional on a mission like this!"
I spun away, my eyes wet with tears to see Dimitri and the other guys standing behind me. More than anything I wanted to throw myself into Dimitri's strong, loving arms, but I couldn't. And so I did the next best thing – I threw myself into Eddie's.
Despite being startled, Eddie wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight as I sobbed against his chest - all the years of pain, loneliness, and rejection coming to the fore in an overwhelming tidal wave of emotions.
I could hear my mother approaching behind me, naming and listing all my many flaws, yet somehow my defense came from an unexpected source.
"Janine, just leave it," Stan suggested calmly. "This doesn't help anyone."
"Oh suddenly an expert on parenting, too, are we?" she snarled at him.
"No, but it doesn't take an expert to see how she might be upset about you sharing family stories and training with other young Novices when you've done neither with her," Stan pointed out.
"You can stay out of this! This has nothing to do with you!" she snapped at him.
"Actually, this does have to do with me. I came to the academy the same year Rose did. You weren't there to see it, but I saw first hand the damage that occurs when you dump a four-year-old to be brought up by strangers! She cried for you for months, Janine. It took her a year to learn to smile again. Then every birthday, every Christmas it was the same. She'd wait hoping for a call or a visit that never came. And the pathetic thing was, every year she'd make some elaborate excuse for why you were too busy to remember her. Until eventually, she just stopped talking about you altogether. Yes, I'm not her parent. Hell – Rose and I don't even get along ninety percent of the time – but right now she has a right to be hurt and angry!"
I was lying on my bed an hour later when there was a knock. I didn't respond - I was too drained to speak with anyone. The door opened, but I kept my eyes closed, and pretended to be asleep. The mattress dipped beside me as someone sat on the edge of the bed.
As soon as I felt a large hand smooth my hair, I knew who it was.
"Roza? Your Mom's calmed down. Now she's had a chance to think about it, she can see how today might have looked to you. She thinks we could all use a day or two apart to cool down. Tomorrow morning when she goes to do the shopping in Sheridan, she thought she might take Elizaveta, Stan, Artyom and Blake with her and they'll all stay the night."
"So they get a couple of days out of this shithole, while we get to rot here? Nice…" I growled.
"Well the idea was the rest of us could take our turn for a weekend in town in a week or two," he explained, taking advantage of me moving over to lie behind me on the mattress, draping his arm around my waist. It was the first decent physical contact we'd had in a week, and I couldn't help but snuggle back against him.
"Why can't she just tell me about my heritage? She'll tell strangers, but she can't tell me! It's like she feels I don't deserve to hear it. Like they're her family but not mine. I've grown up with no one, Dimitri! Surely it wouldn't hurt to share a few stories with me?"
"I don't know. Now she's calmed down, she's disappointed in herself about the things she said," Dimitri consoled.
"More like she's disappointed someone saw her lose her cool and heard what a shithouse mother she's been," I snapped. "I can't believe her solution is to take the girl she's favoring away for a couple of days!"
"Um – that's probably my fault," Dimitri murmured. "I know Elizaveta rubs you up the wrong way so I suggested Janine take her. I thought if it was just Eddie, Meredith and me here for a few days you might feel better?"
I thought about it. It hurt Mom would prefer to go away with some Russian Novice rather than me, but right now Elizaveta was welcome to her.
"You're probably right," I sighed. I turned on the bed, so I was cuddled in against his chest.
"Tomorrow we can do whatever you want," he purred in my ear.
"Anything Comrade?!"
"You know what I mean, Roza," he said in exasperation.
I frowned. Ok – so sex was apparently still off the menu.
"Maybe we could train together? Just you and me?" I asked hopefully. If I couldn't get hot and sweaty with him between the sheets, I'd take the next best thing.
"You've got it," he promised, kissing my hair softly.
We lay cuddling in silence for a few more minutes.
"I'd better go, Ангел," he said with a discontented sigh. These brief moments were not enough for either of us. "Sleep well, Roza. Tomorrow will be a better day."
I rolled into the spot Dimitri had just vacated, savoring the warmth of the quilt where he'd laid. Before long I was asleep, having tortured dreams filled with whispered desires, unfamiliar longings and deep, soulful chocolate brown eyes and rough, calloused fingers.