He pulled himself out of Belikov's mind just as the man began his heartbreaking liturgy to his Roza. God, why? Why had his mind blocked him from remembering the vision for so long? Had he subconsciously wanted this to happen? Was he so insane that he would condemn a good man to death just because they loved the same woman? Silent tears rolled down his cheeks ad he considered it. For all intents and purposes, his actions had resulted in the death of his rival. What kind of a man did that make him?
Struggling to his feet, he sprinted for the chapel, feeling the overwhelming need for absolution. He had done this. It all rested on his shoulders. If only he had listened to Belikov that day in the clinic. If he had stayed sober and kept trying to remember, all this could have been averted, and no one would have died.
He burst through the doors of the chapel, his eyes darting around the interior searching for the priest. The man was sitting in the front row, a young Moroi teacher sobbing on his shoulder. He approached them slowly, stopping to lean against the wall a few feet away, granting the woman whatever privacy she might need.
The staff and students were understandably distraught. Strigoi attacking the school was something no one had ever expected to happen. The Academies were supposed to be safe havens—it was why the school years were so long and why Moroi families endured being separated for most of the year. Everyone considered it to be worth it for children to have a safe place to go. Now that that was no longer true… It shattered everyone's belief system.
Father Andrew noticed him standing in the shadows, excusing himself from the parishioner and joining Adrian against the wall.
The older Moroi studied Adrian, taking in the shaking hands and pale, tear stained face. "You look like you've seen a ghost, son. Let me help you."
"I need to speak with you. Privately. It won't take long."
The older man motioned towards a side door. Adrian followed him into a small, comfortable sitting room. To his embarrassment, once he was settled, he burst into uncontrollable tears. The priest quickly moved to his side, gathering the weeping form in his arms and rocking him gently from side to side. No longer able to contain himself, Adrian bared his soul, everything spilling out in a rush. He told him everything, starting with the rivalry he had felt with Belikov over Rose, moving on to the dreams. He detailed the madness and finished with visions of the horrible things he'd seen in the cave and how he had done nothing to prevent it.
Father Andrew listened in silence, not speaking until he was sure that Adrian was done. After a few moments of silence, he attempted to soothe the boy's soul.
"Adrian, visions are not always accurate. There are several accounts of Saint Vladimir prophesizing things that never came into being. You could be wrong. It might not have—"
"No." He pulled away, scrubbing his face with his palms to remove any evidence of his breakdown. "It happened. I know it did, and it's entirely my fault. All those people, dead because of me. Belikov… My God, how will I ever be able to face Rose, knowing that I could have stopped it? This will kill her."
"You cannot blame yourself, son. There's nothing you could have done—"
"Were you listening to me?" Adrian cut him off, jumping to his feet. He paced the room like a caged tiger. "I could have tried harder to remember. I could have warned them… stopped them."
The priest grabbed his arm as he passed, forcing him to stop his frenzied movements. "It might not have made a difference. Perhaps this was predestined to happen. Consider that it might be a… test of sorts. A trial. God works in mysterious ways—we cannot even begin to comprehend His actions."
Adrian sank down on the couch, suddenly exhausted. The words gave him no comfort. He did not believe in predestination. Every man was master of his own fate. God had more important things to do then move them around like chess pieces on some celestial game board.
"Stay here and rest awhile. Give your troubles to Him, even if just for a little while." Patting his hand, Father Andrew left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
Adrian closed his eyes, reaching out—almost unconsciously—for Belikov's aura. It was still there, but it had altered dramatically. He knew why. He remembered being trapped in the vision, and the Russian emerging from the cave as Strigoi. Releasing the threads of spirit that connected him to the other man's aura, he slowly drifted off into a haunted, nightmare-filled sleep.
He awoke with a start, furious that he'd wasted time resting. He had no idea how long he had been here, but at some point during sleep, his mind had come to a realization, and he clung onto it with hope. Father Andrew may very well be right—the vision might be nothing at all. At this moment, Rose and Belikov could be in the clinic awaiting healing. Pushing himself to his feet, he stumbled out into the sanctuary, spotting Rose a moment later and all his hopeful thoughts drained away in an instant.
She was sitting in a dark corner, her face emotionless. She looked like a zombie as she sat with her arms around her drawn up knees staring into space. He chanced a glance at her aura and winced immediately. It was full of misery and sorrow, blues that were so dark and dismal that they almost blended in with the cloud of blackness that surrounded her. All happiness and hope were gone. There was no joy—no emotion other that complete and total despair.
As he watched, she stretched across the length of the pew, giving him the opportunity to move closer. She appeared to be on the verge of sleep, and for a moment, he considered entering her dreams, taking away the nightmares he knew that she would be facing. Instead, he made himself comfortable behind a tall statue, watching over her. If her sleep became too troubled, he would do what he could to ease her suffering.
All too soon Lissa appeared, shaking Rose gently to awaken her. Pulling on spirit, he cloaked himself, wanting to listen in—to hear what words Lissa used to console his little dhampire. He had always been lousy at being sympathetic; he hoped to learn something by listening in so he could offer words of comfort to Rosebud when she needed them.
"Rose," she said. "We've been looking all over for you. Have you been here the entire time?"
Rose sat up, bleary-eyed. "Pretty much."
She shook her head. "That was hours ago. You should go eat something."
"I'm not hungry." Rose grabbed her arm. "What time is it? Has the sun come up?"
"No. It's still about, oh, five hours away." Lissa touched her face and Arian watched her magic flare through her aura as she healed her best friend.
"You shouldn't do that," Rose said.
A faint smile crossed her lips. "I've been doing it all day. I've been helping Dr. Olendzki."
"I heard that, but wow. It just feels so strange. We've always kept it hidden, you know?"
"It doesn't matter if everyone knows now," she said with a shrug. "After everything that's happened, I had to help. So many people are hurt, and if it means my secret getting out…well, it had to happen sooner or later. Adrian's been helping too, though he can't do as much."
He hadn't been much help, but he had tried. Not that that made up for the fact he'd run out of the clinic earlier. Or the fact he hadn't been in time to prevent… He tilted his head as a bright canary yellow flare spiked through Rose's gloomy aura.
Rose sat straight up, her face looking stunned. "Oh my God, Liss. You can save him. You can help Dimitri."
"Rose," she said quietly. "They say Dimitri's dead."
"No," she said. "He can't be. You don't understand. … I think he was just injured. Probably badly. But if you're there when they bring him back, you can heal him." She stopped, her face scrunching up as if she were about to cry. "And if… if he did die … You could bring him back! Just like with me. He'd be shadow-kissed too."
He saw Lissa's expression and felt confused. She wouldn't… There was no way she would refuse. Not after everything Rose had done for her.
"I can't do that. Bringing people back from the dead is a huge power drain…and besides, I don't think I could do it on someone who has been dead, um, that long. I think it has to be recent."
Desperation filled Rose's voice. "But you have to try."
"I can't…" She swallowed. "You heard what I said to the queen. I meant it. I can't go around bringing every dead person back to life. That gets into the kind of abuse Victor wanted. It's why we kept this secret."
"You'd let him die? You wouldn't do this? You wouldn't do this for me?" Rose's voice was filled with pain. "I would do anything for you. You know that. And you won't do this for me?"
Lissa studied her and her aura flared as she finally put two and two together. Adrian sighed with relief. Now there was no way she could refuse, not knowing that Belikov and Rose were in love. She would fix this—fix the colossal fuck up he had caused by refusing to face his vision.
Lissa pulled Rose into her arms. "I'm so sorry, Rose. I'm so, so sorry. I can't."
He stared at her, anger shooting through him, burning his veins, flushing his face with its intensity. He fought back the urge to stride over and grab her, to shake her until she retracted her words. All hope drained from Rose's aura, replaced by the tiniest trace of hatred. He didn't blame her in the slightest. As he watched Lissa lead Rose out the door, he felt his own hatred slowly begin taking root. Hatred towards the selfish, unthinking Dragomir princess—who had just destroyed the girl she claimed to love like a sister. He would never look at her the same way again. Vasilisa had just unknowingly shown her true colors. She proved that no matter what she might show the outside world, inside she was just another useless royal who cared more about herself than those around her.
Adrian stalked after them, sticking to the shadows. Sooner or later Lissa would leave Rose's side. When she did, he vowed that they were going to have a confrontation that would make the school's recent battle with the Strigoi look like a children's fucking tea party. It was time that someone called Vasilisa on her bullshit, and Adrian Ivashkov was just the man to do it.