A/N:

Thank you all so much! I LOVE and appreciate each and every one of your reviews.

Well here is what all of you asked for, Dimitri's point of view. Now you get to see in the mind of our beloved Russian God :-). I was very reluctant to write from his point of view…but, oh well, I gave it a shot. I hope I don't disappoint.

Disclaimer: Vampire Academy belongs to author Richelle Mead.

DPOV:

I'd let my life become a mess. An absolute and inclusive disaster. I was used to being a structured and well thought out man—my bed had to be made a certain way, the comforter never allowed to brush the edges of the floor. My socks must be in the top drawer, separated from the blacks, and always folded properly. Nothing else was tolerable. Or else I wouldn't be able to concentrate on work throughout the day.

I thoroughly enjoyed my life before. It was quiet, controlled, and most of the time tranquil. The academy had formed me this way. I was born and raised in the military; it was all I knew. I was perfectly fine with that. It was sometimes lonesome and stressful, but I disregarded those feelings and managed to keep continually busy.

I hadn't realized until I met my student, Rose Hathaway, that the life I had wasn't much of one at all. Immediately, the sheer thought of her, brought a tired sigh to my lips. I ran an aggravated hand through my hair.

I'd never seen anything like her, not in my four years of being a General or my two as a lieutenant.

I didn't know where to begin with her. I knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that I was falling deeply and profoundly in love with her. My feelings for Roza were so intense and powerful that I was fearful her soul would consume me entirely. Love was a dangerous thing to play with. And what we had now was a double edged sword. I knew the end result would always be the same: the both of us would get hurt, be it intentionally or unintentionally.

But my heart wanted what my heart wanted—and that was her.

My mind was in control though. It over-ran my heart and emotions because I had worked years to train it that way. My mind was telling me what Rose and I had was wrong, terribly terribly wrong. I listened to those thoughts—no matter how much I loathed them, I knew my brain was right. I couldn't be with Rose, nor would I ever be able to. That is simply the way it was.

I sighed sadly, let all the emotions and feelings towards Rose leave my body and mind. Pushed them to the back of my brain. Put them on the back burner. However you want to put it, love and lust was not something I brought to work.

After taking a shower and dressing in my uniform, I glanced at my watch.

5:32 AM.

Realizing I was running late for morning practice with Rose, I headed out the door and towards the field. I ran a few warm up laps and waited patiently for my student to arrive.

Several minutes later, Rose strutted up to me—that was the only word I could possibly use to describe it. Her hands swung back and forth, a delicate smile twisting her cupid bow lips, her defined hips swayed left to right, obvious confidence and attitude in her cat walk.

"Morning, Comrade." She cheerily greeted, that beautiful smile becoming more prominent.

"Good morning, Rose." I fought the smile that dared to curl at my lips. "Laps, now."

She groaned.

After a little more coaxing on my part, she finally headed out to the track.

Once she had completed the routine four miles, she came back to me, breathing heavily, sweat glistening her creamy almond skin, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. She was breathtaking, like an Angel.

"What's next?" Roza puffed.

"Weights."

"You son of a b—"

Her words were cut off as I shot her a defiant stare. There was nothing more unattractive than hearing such filthy words leave her mouth, and each time she swore, it stood as a constant reminder of her juvenile age.

"Sorry, Comrade." she mumbled sheepishly.

"Just go." I waved my hand.

She nodded and ran off.

Just before practice was over, knowing Rose's tendency to forget important matters, I had to remind her of one last thing.

"Practice field tests start after lunch today and will occur consistently and sporadically for the following several weeks."

"Got cha'." she said. "You know, Coach, with the way you constantly remind me about certain events…I'd say you think I'm irresponsible and incapable of remembering what I need to do. I'm not stupid, ya know."

I grinned, unable to help myself, and without another word cast towards Roza, I turned on my heel and walked away.

"Hey! That's rude!"

The field test went well. Despite it being designed as a difficult challenge for their speed and agility, the majority of my students passed with ease. The only problem I had was with Rose. I had been frustrated at first, believing she was trying to claim attention, but then I realized her fear of heights was indeed real.

Although part of me wanted to hold her and comfort her, tell her she didn't have to complete the test, I knew that would be avoiding the problem and not the appropriate road to take. Pushing my concern, feelings, and tinge of sympathy for her aside, I did the only thing I could think of—I forced her into the test.

Turns out, it worked well. Rose climbed up the rope faster than I'd ever seen any student before. She was frightening and beautiful in her movements, like a cheetah navigating through the Savannah.

She'd had some difficulty when she got to the top, and my chest tightened in fear when she began swaying left to right. I contemplated running to the tree and being there to catch her if she were to fall. Auspiciously, she regained her composure when I'd reminded her of the time she had left.

Rose was fascinating to watch and I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away from her. She ascended over the water fiercely, like a fallen angel, and landed softly on the leafy forest ground.

Pride, respect and admiration for my student filled my chest. She did it. And she did it good.

I wrote down her times on the clipboard and strode over to where Rose was standing. I gave the smallest smile.

There were so many things I wanted to say. But the only thing I could manage to think of was two words. Two words I knew she wouldn't understand the significance of. Two words I knew she'd never know the magnitude of which I meant them.

"Good job."

Rose's lavender-pink lips twisted into a perfect heart, gratitude filled those warm brown eyes. "Thanks, Comrade. I couldn't have done it without your perseverance and encouraging swear words in Russian."

I chuckled. "I'm proud of you, Roza."

Without another thought, I leaned down so our faces were only inches apart, and pressed my mouth to the silk of her cheek. Her skin was warm and sweet. I allowed my lips to remain against her cheek for a moment too long—not realizing how much I enjoyed it. When I pulled back, my mouth burned like small electric shocks were coursing through my lips.

Fighting the urge to brush my fingers against my stinging mouth—to see if what I just did was real and not something I had imagined, I glanced at Rose. The stain of crimson across cheeks, the sparkling in her brown eyes stricken with amazement and wonder, confirmed what I had expected.

I turned around and walked away. I barked out orders to my next student.

If kissing Rose on the cheek had been that exhilarating, I couldn't imagine how it would feel like to do other things with her. I gritted my teeth at the thought.

I grabbed a tray from the stack and handed it to Ethan. He offered a friendly smile and greeted me in our native tongue.

"What's it going to be Boss?"

"The usual," I said.

Ethan began filling up my tray with Pelmeni and a bowl of Borsch. "Extra sour cream and beef?"

I grinned. "Always."

"Hey, Boss?"

"Yes, Ethan?"

He gulped and glanced down at the tray, the uneasiness evident in his face. "About those missing girls…" He placed silverware on my tray. "Have they found any new leads yet?"

I sighed tiredly. "No, they have not."

"Do they have any idea who this harebrained lunatic is?" He shook his head. "I butcher animals for a living, but I could never imagine hacking up young girls—"

"That's enough," I cut him off, the unbearable mental image of Rose in the hands of the murderer flashing before my eyes. "It is strictly police business, Ethan. I cannot release any information. Once the public knows, so will you. Until then…"

Allowing the sentence to trail off, I hastily picked up my tray and walked over to the refreshment table.

"Hey, Dimka!"

Don't roll your eyes, don't roll your eyes. I thought.

Tasha smiled at me. She was in her usual uniform—thermal shirt, army pants, and combat boots. Raven black hair worn down in long waves, pink glossed lips, and smoldering blue eyes. She was beautiful, breathtaking, but nothing compared to the one girl that owned my heart.

"Tasha." I nodded in acknowledgment.

"Oh, don't Tasha me!" She playfully smack my arm. "I called your mother today."

"You did?" I tried to keep the irritation out of my tone. I don't believe I succeeded because Tasha frowned at me.

"Yeah, I talk to her all the time," she paused. "Olena has been helping me tremendously ever since the break-up."

"That was over two years ago." I said tightly. I grabbed two water bottles and walked to an empty nearby table. Most of the staff had already eaten and were getting back to work. I was late. I always managed to let work interfere with my eating habits.

Tasha sat down across from me. Of course, I shouldn't have expected anything less, she followed me around like a lost puppy dog.

"I was thinking," She snatched a bite of food from my plate. I gritted my teeth. When Rose did that, it was cute, maybe even a little sexy…but when Tasha did it, it was repulsive.

She slowly chewed on the meat.

"You were thinking…what?" I waved my hands impatiently.

"Give me a second to swallow the bite, Dimka." She giggled, covering her mouth. "You know it's rude to talk around a mouthful of food."

And there goes the restrained-annoyed eye roll. Tasha noticed and narrowed her gaze.

"I was thinking I could come by your place and cook us some dinner."

"I—"

"And before you say no," she interrupted. "This is a strictly no-strings-attached dinner. Just two close friends having a relaxing meal and catching up on each others lives."

I took two bites of Pelmeni and swallowed, trying to buy time. Having dinner with Tasha was the last thing I wanted to do. I dreaded having to spend time with her. But my mother and her were still very close—despite having ended my relationship with Tasha two years ago—and I couldn't bluntly refuse her offer. That would be rude and I'd likely be hearing a long lecture later from my mother. I didn't want to upset her. Besides, it was just dinner…two friends having dinner like Tasha had said. What's the worse that could happen?

"I don't know…"

"Oh, come on, Dimka!" Tasha grinned. "Please have dinner with me. Don't make me get down on my knees and beg."

I shook my head. "I know, but I'm still hesitant—"

"What about Emerson? Does he mean nothing to you?"

I slammed my hands on the table. My control snapping, like a rubber band. My whole body filled with the heat of anger and rage.

"Emerson isn't real," I growled, my face only inches from Tasha's. "He is a figment of your imagination. You made him up so I would stay with you. You fooled me into loving you. What we had wasn't real, none of it was."

"What we had was true love, Dimitri. And you know it." Tasha replied crisply. "You loved me—love me. And you love Emerson."

"Emerson isn't real!" I snarled. "You used him to make me love you. It was the thought of Emerson that I loved, not you. It was never you."

Tears brimmed in her ice-blue eyes. "He was real and I lost him in the accident. Don't you remember, sweetheart?" she pleaded.

"There was no accident, you're delusional. Fanatical. Crazy. Insane." I pointed in her face. "You need help, Tasha, professional help."

I stood up from the table and stomped out of the staff room, leaving my tray and a crying woman behind.

After work, I showered and got dressed for bed. I'd only read a couple of chapters from my western novel when I heard a soft knock at the door.

I hopped out of bed and cautiously walked to open the door. For a moment, my chest filled with undeniable excitement and happiness at the thought of the person outside being Rose. I wanted it to be her. I wanted to keep her safe in my apartment. I wanted to be next to her, lay beside her, savor each and every moment I spent in her powering presence.

I immediately scolded myself for having such feelings towards my seventeen year old student.

I turned the knob and opened the door, the smile quickly vanished from my face when I realized who it was. Tasha.

"What do you want?"

"A peace offering," She slid me the sweetest smile and waved two wine glasses in the air. "I came by to say I'm sorry for what happened earlier."

I stared at her and didn't utter a word. She continued on in that nervous mumble that was equally cute and completely annoying.

"I just want to have dinner with you, a normal dinner—with no problems, and absolutely no reminiscing about our past. I promise only light and airy topics. So unless you have any other plans…" she glanced behind me. "Oh, it looks like you don't. That's wonderful. Besides, I brought red wine…your favorite."

A laugh escaped my lips. "I'm still not sold…" I teased.

Tasha giggled, picking up on my relaxed mood. Her face glowed with happiness. "It's freezing out here, Dimka. I'd like to keep all of my toes and fingers, so let me in…unless you'd like me to sit on your porch all night and wait for you."

"I like the latter." I winked.

"Oh, move out of the way, you Big Bully!" Tasha playfully smacked my chest. I smiled and let her pass. I shut and locked the door.

"How do you like my dress?" she asked. It was a simple coral dress that showed off her long pale legs. She did a small twirl.

"Why are you wearing a dress?" My forehead creased in confusion. "I thought you said this was supposed to be a friend-to-friend dinner. Besides, it's winter out there, isn't it a little cold to be showing so much skin?"

"Why?" Tasha flashed a sultry look. "Afraid you won't be able to control yourself?"

I narrowed my eyes at her, furious she would make such assumptions.

"Kidding, Dimka, kidding." She giggled. "Relax and take a joke, will ya?"

"I can take a joke." I crossed my arms.

Tasha sauntered into the kitchen and glanced back at me over her shoulder. "Liar."

"Did you come here to spend time with me or did you come here to insult me?"

"Both," she grinned, ravaging through my refrigerator.

I sighed. This was going to be a long night.

Tasha pulled out steak, red potatoes, and asparagus. "Your favorite."

"That's not my favorite."

"Well…" she shrugged. "Your favorite American food?"

"If that is considered American food, then yes." I said.

Tasha seasoned the steaks and placed them in a frying pan.

"Let me guess…" she said. "You like your steak rare?"

"Always."

Tasha giggled and began chopping the potatoes into half moons. After she'd finished, she salted the chunks, placed them in a pan, covered it in aluminum foil, and set them in the pre-heated oven.

"Beverage?" she asked. I nodded.

She opened the fridge and pulled out two Dr. Peppers. She tossed one to me. "Since when do you drink Soda?"

"Since I've spent many nights awake worrying about keeping my school safe," I lied. "It helps keep me awake when I'm feeling extra tired."

"Okey dokey." Tasha shrugged, popping open the cap and taking a long swig.

I wonder if Rose would be upset that Tasha was drinking her soda.

I nearly laughed at the thought.

"What's tickling your fancy?" Tasha asked.

"Huh?"

"You're grinning like an idiot," she said, smiling. "Does my cooking amuse you that much?"

"Oh," I forced a chuckle. "Yes, it does. You are a terrible cook."

"Am not," Tasha smacked my arm. That little gesture was beginning to irritate me.

"I've gotten sick before after having eaten your food."

"That was food-poisoning," she protested. "And it was only one time! One time!"

I laughed and shook my head. "That was the worst three days of my life."

"Yes, but I took very good care of you." Tasha suddenly closed the distance between us, her hand trailing up my thigh, too close to intimate parts for my liking. "Didn't I?"

I cleared my throat and glanced down at her hand and then back at her—an obvious warning for her to give me some space.

Tasha growled in frustration and pulled back. She threw the asparagus in a frying pan and covered the vegetables in salt and pepper.

"I'm sorry, Dimka." She sighed. "I'm PMSing right now and it's causing major mood swings—I'm sorry you have to be the focus and victim of all my grouchiness and horniness."

My eyes widened. I cleared my throat uncomfortably.

"Oh, what am I saying?" she threw her hands up. "I just embarrassed myself. I didn't mean to make this so awkward."

"It's fine." I lied.

God, how I wish this night would be over already…

Once Tasha had deemed the food ready and edible, she served the steaks, potatoes, and asparagus in equal portions on two plates.

I helped set the table while she poured our glasses of red wine and set the green bottle in the center of the table.

"Thank you, Tasha." I sat down, she did the same. "This was very kind and thoughtful of you."

"You're welcome," She grinned. "Beats being alone with a western, doesn't it?"

"Yep." I muttered.

Throughout dinner, Tasha talked non-stop about the recent events that had occurred in her life. I ate my steak,—which tasted like soggy paper—nodded and smiled when necessary, constantly fighting the bored expression from masking my face.

Most of the time, my thoughts drifted towards Rose. It was an escape. My escape. My heaven. I imagined how beautiful and glowing she'd look in a white gown at our wedding. I pictured her pregnant with my baby, her smooth stomach perfect and swollen. I imagined our happy children...I dreamt of having a big family with her. I wondered if she'd let their names come from Russian descent?

"Dimka?" Tasha snapped her fingers, her tone slightly aggravated and concerned, indicating she'd called my name a few times.

I blinked. "Sorry, lost in thought."

"Did you hear what I said?"

I shook my head. "No."

"I asked if you'd like to watch a movie with me…It's getting pretty late and I didn't want to leave yet."

I glanced at the clock. 2:47AM.

My eyes widened. "It is really late."

Tasha chuckled. "Yeah, I guess hours fly when you're having a great time."

"You're right, they do." I forced a smile.

"So, what will it be?" she paused. "John Wayne again? What about True Grit? I really like that one—"

"It's late," I interrupted her. "I really should be going to bed. I have practice in the morning with Ms. Hathaway."

I stood up and ushered her to the door. Tasha's eyes were like a light switch—going from a warm blue to deadly black in an instant.

She reached forward and kissed me. Shocked and nauseated, I shoved her away.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

"What I've been wanting to do for two years…what you've been wanting to do for so long." Tasha ran her hands along my chest. I ripped them away.

"Nothing, and I mean nothing, would ever make me touch you like that ever again." My tone was icy and menacing.

"Why don't you want me?" She clutched my shirt. "Why don't you want me the way I want you?"

"You're a manipulative liar. You'll do whatever you can in your power to get what you want. You're repulsive. I cannot believe I ever thought I had feelings for you, loved you. The mere thought nauseates me."

Her lips curled in an ugly sneer. It was evil, sinful, and immoral. Tasha looked like a monster. Any sweet and innocence that she'd carried earlier vanished without a trace.

In a blinding rage, she released a piercing scream, snatched the wine bottle up and smashed it against the ground. It exploded like dynamite, shards of green glass flying everywhere. The liquid spilled all over the floor and stained the tile with a sickening blood color.

I stood there stunned.

"How dare you," she ran to the living room and kicked the vase off its stand. "I yearn for you. I love you, damn it. You've poisoned my mind. You're all I think about. All I dream about."

I watched as her fury and rejection claimed the best of her. Tasha growled and tipped my DVD shelf over. I cringed as she stepped all over them, cracking and breaking years worth of collecting classic DVD's.

"Tasha, stop." I warned.

She scooped four movies into her arms and chucked them at me. I managed to duck three of them, but the last once caught the corner of my eye. I flinched and rubbed the sore spot.

"Stop!" I boomed. "What is wrong with you?"

Tasha scowled and ran into my bedroom were she began ripping pictures of my family from the wall. She flung one across the room; it collided with the mirror and shattered.

"I hate you, I hate you. I hate you so much!" She screeched.

"That's enough." I snarled. I snatched her small body into my arms and tightened. She trashed and screamed against my grasp. And that's when she bit me. She tilted her head at an angle, bared her teeth, and pierced into the flesh of my bicep. Her bite drew blood, I hissed from the pain and released her.

Using my moment of distraction to her advantage, Tasha ran full force towards me in a tackle. The impact caught me off guard and I stumbled, the bends of my knees hit the bed, hurling Tasha and I backwards.

She straddled my waist and crushed her lips to mine.

I growled, low and deep in my throat. I seized Tasha with my hands and threw her violently to the floor. I glowered at her.

And that's when I heard it. The smallest, softest gasp.

My head snapped up and I was met with a pair of glossed brown eyes. Rose.

No. Please don't let this be happening to me.

The anguished expression on her face tightened my chest. I didn't know what thoughts were passing through her mind in that instant, but I knew it wasn't anything good.

And then she ran. I pursued immediately.

Rose stumbled down the steps and that's when I took the opportunity to grab her. I slammed her into me, desperately trying to restrain her squirming body.

"Get off me!" She shoved her elbow into my stomach. I grunted from the throbbing pain.

I wrapped my arms tightly around Rose, squeezing tighter and tighter until she was entirely immobilized.

I despised handling her like this, in a way I felt like my abusive father—using my extra body strength to over power a woman, to control them. Guilt and remorse filled my chest. I hated myself in that moment.

"It's not what you think." I growled.

Her sharp finger nails raked down my forearms, leaving burning trails that itched and stung. I felt liquid trickle down my skin.

"Let go of me," she snarled. "Somebody help me! Please someone!"

"Let me explain." I dreaded doing this, but I knew it was my only choice. I crushed my knee into her kidneys. I heard the breath leave her lips in a soft whoosh.

It pained me to cause her harm and a part of me felt the blow along with her. She fell slump in my arms. I flipped her around to face me.

"What happened in there, it's not what you think." I explained, pleading with her to believe what I was saying.

"When I saw how messy your apartment was, I feared you might have been hurt." Diamond tears spilled out of her almond eyes and traveled down her cheeks. "Now I know that it was probably from you fucking Tasha. I didn't think you'd be the type into that crazy, wild sex. Tell me, Dimitri, do ya like whips and chains too?"

"It's not what it looks like, if you'd shut your fucking mouth and listen to me explain." I whispered icily. "Tasha and I—"

She raised her hand and I paused for a moment to let her speak. "Please, just stop. You've already hurt me so much…just stop talking."

"Roza…" I begged, suddenly feeling very tired and weak. It felt like someone had ripped a giant hole in my chest. I felt hollow, empty, alone…

"Just please, let me go," Rose croaked. "I need to be alone right now."

I stared at her face, seeing if she meant what she had just said. Her eyes drowned in sadness and pain—my heart broke knowing I was the cause of all her problems. Realizing I'd allowed what she and I shared go on far too long, let her get too emotionally attached to me—as was the same for me—I gave up. Nodding, I let her warm body fall from my arms.

Rose stepped back, those beautiful eyes going from pain to anger in an instant—like Tasha's had earlier, but this look was worse. It held hatred, resentment, and animosity. It was pure malice.

Rose wanted me to suffer.

She pulled her arm back, I knew what she was about to do, and I didn't block her. In a sick and twisted way, I wanted her to hit me; I believe I deserved it for all that I'd done to her. Her fist connected with my nose, I heard the bone demolish and blood spewed from my nostrils like a flowing river. I moaned in agony.

Rose ran. And I didn't chase after her.

After Dr. Olendzki had stitched and cast my throbbing nose, I was released from the infirmary. She hadn't asked questions at first, however, I didn't give her the opportunity to.

The pain in my nose was indescribable, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. I'd suffered many broken bones over the years and the pain becomes almost tolerable, although you never quite get used to it.

I was advised by the doctor to take a few days off work, get some rest, and let my injuries heal a bit—that was never going to happen. I had to find Rose and talk to her. I wasn't sure what I was going to say, but silence between us would only worsen things.

I wanted nothing more than to hold her in my arms, to comfort her, to take her pain away...just as she would take away mine. I had to stop thinking like this. She was my student, a minor…and completely wrong for me. But if we weren't meant to be, why couldn't I stop feeling this way?

I sighed tiredly and glanced at my watch. 5:43AM.

I headed toward the high-school campus. I was planning on telling Rose that practice was canceled. The two of needed a break from each other, we needed time to think, time to breath.

I heard rustling in a nearby bush and froze mid-step. My head snapped over as I focused in on the slight swaying of the bush. I was positive something or someone was behind it. A part of me wanted to investigate, but the other part—the more demanding and over-powering part—urged me to find Rose.

With one last suspicious glance, I walked away.

I knocked, and I knocked, and I knocked at Rose's door. She didn't answer. I stuck my spare key to her room in the hole and turned, letting the oak door slide open until it banged against the wall. I cautiously stepped inside, if she hadn't answered the door, that meant she most likely wanted to be alone—but I couldn't let that happen. No, not right now. I had to explain the situation with Tasha first.

When I'd searched her room meticulously, I discovered that she wasn't in there. I did notice, however, that her toothbrush and tooth paste were missing. A quick glance in her closet showed all of her clothes gone.

The pit of my stomach dropped. I swore.

I ran to the field, checked the cafeteria and the gym just to make sure—just like I had suspected…Rose wasn't there.

I pulled at my hair in frustration. "Where is she?"

I released a string of swear words and angrily pounded my fist against a tree. "No, no, no, no!"

"General Belikov?" I recognized that irritatingly deep voice. I turned to face Stan.

"What?" I snapped.

He put his hands up in surrender. "Just checking to see if you're alright, relax."

"I'm fine."

"Well, what's going on with all that then?" Stan pointed towards the tree and my battered hands. "There's got to be something bothering you."

"I know, you looked like Hulk pounding on that tree. Poor little tree." Adrian came up behind Stand. Imitating what I assumed to be a stance from the Hulk movie, he spread his knees apart like a crab and strikes the ground with his fists. "Hulk SMASH!"

"You're intoxicated, Lord Ivashkov."

Adrian closed one eye, like a crocodile. "Maybe a lil' bit," his words slurred together. "I'm off to bed right now, actually. That Lazar girl, What's her name?...Av-Avery throws a wicked party."

He chocked up in a fit of laughter.

"Rose is gone." I whispered.

Stan's eyes widened. Adrian's body went rigid with tension, his green eyes seemed to wake up. He looked like he'd sobered up tremendously.

"She has been kidnapped?" He said through clenched teeth.

"No," I said. Adrian's body relaxed, he lout out breath of relief. "Rose has ran away."

"How can you be so sure?" Stan asked skeptically.

I ripped him up by the collar of his shirt and brought his face closer to mine. "Are you questioning my assumptions and my authority?"

"What? No, no. Of course not, General Belikov." He stammered.

"Rose is missing and we have to find her now." I abruptly released Stan and shoved him back. He stumbled and landed on his back.

Without sparing them another glance, I ran towards the guards on duty at the gate. I grabbed the first one I could find by the collar and pulled him towards me. Mikhail.

"Who has left school grounds within the last several hours?"

"Ch-Check the sign-out list," he said nervously. "Only two people have left St. Augustine's in the past few days."

I ran to the guard post and flung open the door. I startled the guard inside, causing her to jump and spill steaming black coffee all over her thigh.

She cried out in pain.

"I need the sign-out list now." I demanded. "You can check for injuries later. This is far more important."

The woman handed me a clipboard. I stared down at the blue paper. On the second line, departing at 6:01AM, was Vasilisa Dragomir—signed and fingerprinted.

I hissed under my breath and chucked the clipboard at the window.

The woman whimpered in fear.

"I need the security tapes."

"What?"

"The security tapes," I repeated. "Rewind them 15 minutes. It is crucial that I see something."

She nodded and walked over to the small television set placed on the counter. The screen got fuzzy and blurry as she pressed a button and the tapes began to rewind. One excruciatingly slow minute later, a black car appeared on the screen.

"That is Ms. Dragomir's car, Sir." She informed me. I nodded.

Lissa—as Rose liked to call her—stepped out of the car and greeted the guards with the biggest smile plastered across her face. I knew she had easily fooled them with that mask of sweetness and innocence.

On the outside, she was the perfect picture of calm and collected. But I could see the uneasiness in the depths of her eyes. The way her face kept flickering towards the trunk of the car confirmed everything I already knew.

A few moments, she slid back into the driver's seat, waved politely and sped off.

"It looks like she's heading north on the 2-15. I scribbled it down on the paper and handed it to the woman.

"I want you—and anyone else around here—to check every hotel within a 75 mile radius." I pointed towards the direction the car had turned. "North only. Look for exits on the road. Knowing Rose, she'd pull off at a hotel that was near the freeway so she would be able to make a quick escape. Check by Vasilisa's last name, chances are, they used her credit card to check in the hotel."

The woman stared at me.

"Is this too much for you to handle?" I snapped. "Do you understand English?"

It was rude, but I wanted to get things done. And if this lady wasn't going to get the task finished quickly, then I needed someone else to do the job.

"Ye-Yes General Belikov, I understand. I will get working immediately."

I nodded and ran out.

"Why are you following me, Lord Ivashkov?"

"I think I may have something—"

I yelled at the guards lined up against the front gate. "I am placing St. Augustine's on lock down. No one leaves this school; no one comes in this school. No one sleeps, eats, breathes or goes to the bathroom without my permission. Do you understand?"

In perfect sync, they nodded their heads.

"Yoo-hoo, Cradle Robber."

"What did you just say?" I growled. I walked up to him and shoved his chest.

"Whoa, whoa. Hands off, buddy." He dusted his shirt. "I want to help Rose just as much as you do."

"How are you going to help her? There is absolutely nothing you can do."

"Not true," Adrian paused. "I know a way to find out exactly where she is."

RPOV:

I was jamming to the music while I was driving. The sound was upbeat and helped keep me awake. I didn't have a clue what the song was called, it just kept repeating the same lyrics over and over again: Like a G6. Frankly, I had no clue what a G6 was, but it was catchy and I just went along with it.

"Right over there." Lissa turned the radio dial and the music died out.

"Go back to sleep, Grumpy." I said.

"I want to sleep in a bed." She whined.

"Fine, fine." I pulled off the exit, turned on a few deserted streets, and arrived at a Dingy looking crappy hotel. The only car in the parking lot was a beat-up four wheeler—probably belonging to the owner. The red neon sight flickered on and off with the word Vacancy.

"I'm glad they're not all booked up." I muttered.

I turned off the engine and stepped out of the car. Lissa went to wake Christian. After grabbing a few bags, I opened the back door and found the two making out.

I covered my eyes and screamed. "Oh, come on guys! I leave the two of you alone for three minutes and you're already jumping each others bones."

Christian smiled against her lips and continued to kiss her. "It's my favorite way to wake up in the morning. Don't be jealous that you're not getting the same lovin' she is."

I kicked his shin. "Get up! I'm tired."

He grumbled a response and the two of them slid out of the car—both smitten and smiling like idiots.

I gagged.

Once Lissa had paid for the rooms—with two beds, no way in hell I was sharing a bed with those lovebirds—Christian and I hauled the remaining luggage to the room. I locked and chained the door shut behind us.

"No way," I grinned. "You brought Clue?"

"I am the king of board games." Christian declared.

I snorted. "That's because you haven't played me before. You're going to get your ass handed to you, Hotstuff."

Lissa laughed and pulled out Oscar from his bed. The orange ball of fur was now awake and running around—thanks to his power nap. I had to admit, he was pretty cute. Okay, really really cute. Like melt-the-biggest-meanies-on-the-spot cute.

"Hey, if we play this enough," Christian waved the Clue box in the air. "We'd become expert detectives. This game teaches you a lot about life—believe it or not. We might even be able to catch this murderer ourselves."

I snickered. "Yeah, I'd like to make an accusation."

Christian cocked an eyebrow. "Are you sure you don't want to make a suggestion first? If you make an accusation and you're wrong, you're booted out of the game, Missy."

"I'm definitely making an accusation." I said.

"That's…dangerous." Christian paused, "But go ahead, I'd like to see you lose anyways."

"I accuse Mr. Ozera, in the Mess hall, with a butcher knife."

Christian and I stared at each other a moment before busting up laughing. Lissa shook her head and giggled with us.

Christian made an alarm noise and slammed his hand down on the night stand. "Wrong! Out of the game."

I stuck my tongue out. "I'm going to get a snack from the vending machine."

"Be careful, all the food in there is over 50 years old."

"I'm starving. I'll take my chances." I grinned.

"Of course you will." he mumbled.

"I'm only going to be gone for 2 minutes max." I pointed a warning finger to Lissa. "No funny business, got it? I don't think I could handle seeing Christian's pale ass again."

"That was only one time you caught us!" she exclaimed. "One time."

Christian smirked. "She's just jealous, babe. Don't worry, I'll handle this."

He stood from the bed and walked over to me, grabbing my hands. "Listen, Rose…I just don't feel the same way about you. Now I know it has to be heart-wrenching for you, seeing me in the arms of another woman, but that's just how it is. Life's hard. You have to move on, you're only hurting yourself."

Behind Christian, Lissa was giggling uncontrollably. Christian's lips were pursed and twitching, he was fighting hard not to laugh.

I rolled my eyes and slapped his chest. "You're such an idiot."

I unlocked the door and walked out of the room. The instant I shut the door is when Christian broke. He laughed like a Hyena along with Lissa.

My chest constricted. They were so perfect for each other; they had friendship, companionship, and most of all, love. That was the perfect combination. I knew they were meant to be together…soul mates.

Their relationship was so unlike mine and my star-crossed lover, Dimitri. Ours was doomed from the start.

I sighed and trotted over to the vending machine. Despite it being coated in dust, the motel looked like it had a pretty good selection of food. I stood there for several minutes, debating on which bag of chips I should choose.

I twirled the change in my hand. "Do I want Fritos or Hot Cheetos? Fritos or Hot Cheetos? God, it's so hard to choose."

"Hello, Roza." The voice came from behind me. I recognized it immediately.

No.

How did he find me?

My heart dropped.

A/N:

I hope you all enjoyed!

As always, let me know what you think :-)