The Ozera kid was a bust. All Adrian could access was the image of Rose smashing a Maglite on the back of the head of a Guardian. Sighing, he scooped up the sketchpad that rested beside him on the couch and made note of what he had seen. After relaying it to Belikov, he stared at the pictures in front of him, deciding to try and contact Rose's little lapdog again. He didn't understand why he was having so much trouble reaching them—this kid should be a piece of cake. Not only did he have a picture to reference, but he knew the kids aura—had studied it closely, searching the boy's emotions only a few days before at that stupid meeting.

Red hair. Bright blue eyes. Aura filled with devotion to Rose, swirling with baby pink and the lightest shade of lilac. Come on Ashford… Where are you?

Fuck—yes! He was in. But this was… weird. Not like any dream viewing he'd ever had before. He wasn't an observer, it felt like he was reliving memories through the Ashford kid's mind, almost as if he were possessing the Ashford kid. There was a plaza, a wide, open area. It was… a shopping center. A café with umbrella shaded tables. A door marked staff only. A set of stairs going down into darkness. A narrow corridor, with grimy, nasty looking cement, lit from above with ugly, buzzing fluorescent lights. There was a… passageway leading off to the left and right. Suddenly letters appeared before him—DBCOTDVLDZSI. Some had lines and x marks next to them. It puzzled him, but only for a minute or two. Drozdov. Badica. Conta. Ozera. The first letter of every royal family's name was there. Someone was keeping track of—

The vision swirled, as if he had been caught in a tornado. Thoughts that were not his own played through the twisting darkness that surrounded him.

Rose's fault. All Rose's fault. The Ashford kid was blaming Rose for the mess they were in. Adrian decided to keep that little tidbit of information to himself, for the time being. She was going to be in enough trouble without having everyone lay the blame for this fuck up at her feet.

Suddenly, he was in a room, and could see the missing students strapped to uncomfortable-looking wooden chairs. Rose was speaking, her voice sounding shaky.

"Use me," she said. "Drink from me." She was speaking to someone that Adrian couldn't see, the person was hidden in shadows.

"You're volunteering?"

"I've done it before. Let Moroi feed off me, I mean. I don't mind. I like it. Leave the rest of them alone."

"Rose!" exclaimed Mason.

The man stepped into the light and Adrian felt himself hyperventilating. It was a Strigoi. His skin was white, chalky looking, as if he were wearing thick clown makeup. The pupils of his eyes had a red ring around them, signifying the demon that dwelt inside his soul. Looking at his face, you knew you were looking at death. It was completely devoid of any sort of warmth or gentler emotion. His expression was cold and calculating, laced with malicious amusement. He was tall, as tall as Belikov, with shoulder-length black hair and dark brown eyes. And Rose was offering herself to him as a sacrifice, trying to save the others.

The crack of a large hand across his cheek ripped him out of the dream. He stared up at Belikov, realizing that he had begun crying. Adrian swiped at his cheek, embarrassed to have the other man see them. Then he remembered what he had witnessed, and his tears were forgotten in an instant.

"Oh God. Oh fuck. Strigoi. Rose is offering herself, trying to save them."

In hindsight, he probably should have kept his damned mouth shut until he knew their location. Belikov went berserk when he realized Adrian had no information to offer other than the fact Rose was offering herself up to the Strigoi —she'd be slaughtered like a sacrificial lamb.

The coffee table was now nothing more than a heap of kindling. The crystal ashtray had been shattered into a million sparkling shards—not that he needed it, since Dimitri 'Stalin' Belikov had commandeered all his smokes. As for the rest of the room… well, let's just say it was a good thing that people were used to Adrian Ivashkov throwing wild parties. Belikov had decimated it in his fury. It looked like they had been through an earthquake.

After instructing the Russian not to wake him again, Adrian slipped back into Mason Ashford's mind with relative ease. The group was walking down an unremarkable street, everyone quiet and somewhat gloomy. Castile stopped walking, and Rose almost ran into him.

"Where are we?"

Rose looked around, her face full of confusion. "Damn it! Are we lost? Didn't anyone keep track of which way we went?"

Mason pointed. "This way."

Adrian struggled to keep up with them. It wasn't that they were walking fast, just that he had pushed his body to its breaking point. Walking down the narrow street between two buildings didn't seem like the best of ideas, but he was simply a spectator to events that were being remembered. He couldn't stop them.

The group hadn't gotten very far when the sound of an engine and squealing tires filled the air. Mia was walking in the middle of the road and Rose grabbed her, jerking her out of the street and pressing her up against one of the buildings. The boys did the same, so Adrian copied their actions.

A large, gray van with tinted windows had rounded the corner and was straight for the little group. Everyone remained pressed flat against the wall, waiting for it to go past.

Too bad it didn't.

Screeching to a halt, it stopped and the doors slid open. Three big guys spilled out, and again, Rose was the first to respond. One of the men moved toward Christian and Rose struck out, punching him. The guy staggered, his face reflecting the surprise he felt. He probably hadn't expected the curvaceous 5'7 girl to be a threat. Ignoring Christian, he moved toward Rose. What a fucking idiot.

Mason and Eddie squared off with the other newcomers, Mason pulling out a silver stake that he must have stolen from one of the Guardian's back at the resort. Mia and Christian stood there, frozen, looking like deer trapped in headlights.

The guy who'd been sparring with Mason seemed to realize they were losing the fight. They were, after all, only human, and they were battling against three almost fully trained dhampires. He backed off from Mason, grabbing Mia Rinaldi, pressing a gun barrel to the side of her pale neck. Rose screamed at Eddie, demanding he stop his attack. Castile glanced at Rose, then paled when he saw that Mia had been taken hostage.

Adrian was filled with frustration. He wanted to intervene, to help them somehow, but how could you fight a memory? He had to keep reminding himself that the events had already occurred and to keep himself hidden. He had to take in as much as Ashford's memory dream as possible, and pray that it would give them the information necessary to track them down.

He could tell that Rose was near her breaking point, her aura was pulsing with a brilliant orange-red, indicating she was in the depths of a rage. The blackness around her billowed like clouds threatening to burst forth in a torrential downpour.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice harsh, but steady.

The guy pressed his gun closer to Mia's neck, and she whimpered. Nodding his head towards the door of the van, he smiled. "I want you to get inside. And don't start anything. You do, and she's gone."

Rose, for once, didn't argue. Adrian knew she placed Moroi life above her own, and the thought saddened him. It was wrong. So, so wrong, that dhampires were raised this way. Sure, he may be overly class conscious, and he could admit he treated most dhampires like second class citizens, but that was how his parents had raised him. Watching Rose made him rethink everything he had ever been taught. He started to climb into the van, but it disappeared before his eyes, the narrow alleyway blurring. He stood in darkness, and again, thoughts that were not his own flooded his mind. The group hadn't been blindfolded, which was never a good sign. It meant their captors had no plans to release them.

The scene reformed around him, and he realized that Ashford must have zoned out during the drive, not paying any attention to where they were going. The idiot. He was suddenly in the back of the van as it turned down a quiet cul-de-sac, pulling up to a very ordinary—yet large—house. Other houses—identical in the way suburban homes often are—stood nearby. Luckily Adrian had an artist's eye, and was committing every single detail to memory. If he could memorize enough details, he might be able to—

SHIT.

The scene blurred again, melting and morphing into another location. He drug his hand through his hair, tugging in frustration. He was back at the resort, in a guest room, watching Rose and Ashford discuss something.

Rose shrugged her shoulders, collapsing on the bed. "Dimitri said—"

"I know, I know … I heard you. About being careful and all that." Ashfor paced, seeming… angry about something. "But if those Strigoi go after another Moroi…another family…damn it! They're going to wish they weren't so careful then."

"Forget about it," Rose said. She looked irritated with the boy. "There's nothing we can do."

He stopped walking. "We could go."

"Go where?"

"To Spokane. There are buses you can catch in town." Ashford smiled, trying to convince her

"I … wait. You want us to go to Spokane and take on Strigoi?"

"Sure. Eddie'd do it too … we could go to that mall. They wouldn't be organized or anything, so we could wait and pick them off one by one …"

Rose stared at him as if he were an insect. "When did you get so dumb?"

"Oh, I see. Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"It's not about confidence," she argued, standing up and approaching him. "You kick major ass. I've seen it. But this … this isn't the way. We can't go get Eddie and take on Strigoi. We need more people. More planning. More information."

She put her hands on his chest, trying, Adrian supposed, to distract him from his idiotic plan. Mason placed his hands on top of hers and smiled.

"I didn't mean to call you dumb," she said. "I'm sorry."

"You're just saying that now because you want to have your way with me."

Adrian grimaced. He really didn't like this kid. Not one little bit. If Ashford screwed Rose, he'd end the dream. Then tell Belikov, who would probably strangle the boy.

"Of course I am," Rose laughed.

"Well," he said, "I don't think I'm going to be too hard to take advantage of."

"Good. Because there are lots of things I want to do." Her hands slid around his neck.

Adrian gagged. Damn it Rose, really? He studied her aura, smirking when he read the emotions displayed. Ahhh… She was angry. Probably at Belikov. She was forcing herself to play with Ashford, in an attempt to get the Russian out of her system.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Mason said, "You really are his student."

"Whose?"

"Belikov's. I was just thinking about when you mentioned needing more information and stuff. You act just like him. You've gotten all serious since you've been hanging out with him."

Adrian's smirk grew into a full-fledged smile as Rose's entire demeanor changed. The teenager hadn't realized it, but by mentioning Belikov, he had just cock blocked himself. Rose had been trying to forget her 'mentor', and Ashford reminded her of the man at the absolute worst possible time.

"No, I haven't."

The kid pulled her closer, but it was totally obvious that Rose was over the entire 'romantic' interlude. Being a typical teenager, he was completely oblivious to the fact that she was deep in thought. Adrian would have loved to know what going through her mind. Judging by her aura, he'd hazard a guess that the item in question was bigger than a breadbox, standing about 6'7.

"You've just changed, that's all. It's not bad … just different."

Her aura flared a bright orange and she looked like she was about to snap at him, but she didn't get the chance because he kissed her.

She yanked him down on the bed; his hands slid up the back of my neck and released her hair from its tight ponytail. Running his fingers through the unbound hair, he shifted his mouth down and kissed her neck.

Oh yeah. If Belikov didn't kill the kid, Adrian decided he would do it himself. Shaking his head in disgust, he leaned against the wall, wondering if he were actually going to gather any further information about where in Spokane they had been headed.

"You are … amazing," Ashford murmured. Rose apparently liked that, because she arched upward, letting his hands slip under the bottom of her shirt.

Adrian, watching her aura, realized the moment she figured out what she was doing, and who she was actually doing it with.

She jerked away from him, her aura flashing panic. "No … don't."

Mason stopped. "Too much?" he asked. She nodded. "That's okay. We don't have to do that."

He reached for her again, and she moved farther away. "No, I just don't… I don't know. Let's call it quits, okay?"

"I…" He was speechless. "What happened to the 'lots of things' you wanted to do?"

She stared at him, her face sad. "I'm sorry, Mase. I just can't."

He sat up and ran a hand over his hair. "Okay. All right."

"You're mad."

He glanced over at Rose, his face angry. "I'm just confused. I can't read your signals. One moment you're hot, the next you're cold. You tell me you want me, you tell me you don't. If you picked one, that'd be fine, but you keep making me think one thing and then you end up going in a completely different direction. Not just now—all the time."

"Is there something you want me to do?" he asked when she failed to respond "Something that'll… I don't know. Make you feel better about me?"

"I don't know." Her voice sounded sad.

He sighed. "Then what do you want in general?"

Belikov. Duh. Adrian shook his head, wondering if he appeared as pathetic as the Ashford boy did. He'd been chasing after her too.

"I don't know."

With a groan, he stood up and headed for the door. "Rose, for someone who claims she wants to gather as much information as possible, you really have a lot to learn about yourself."

As soon as the door slammed, the dream faded. Adrian didn't fight to hold onto it—he had all the information he needed. Ashford was blaming Rose because she'd obviously ended up rejecting him. They were somewhere in Spokane, in a house he could sketch.

He came 'awake' with a sudden flinching movement. He smelled blood. Glancing down, he was shocked to see the front of his white shirt coated with it. His nose was bleeding. Even more strange, his sketchpad was in hand—he had reproduced the house down to the very last detail, all while in the midst of his spirit trance.

"Are you all right? You told me not to wake—"
Adrian waved off the man's question, feeling dizzy and weak. He had no idea how he had had the ability to draw out the image. His entire conscious mind had been focused on the dream. Being a spirit user was just one wonderful fucking surprise after another.

He shoved the tablet at Belikov. "That's where they are. It's in Spokane. Now give me my fucking cigarettes and go save our girl."