Never before had he tried so hard to get blotto drunk. Something was driving him to drink himself into oblivion. To embrace the darkness that total inebriation would bring. He longed for the alcohol to shut down his mind, granting him the merciful peace of unconsciousness.
It wasn't working.
Cursing his luck, he stumbled to the liquor cabinet, dragging out another bottle. The contents didn't matter—vodka, tequila, whiskey or gin, he didn't care what it was. His sole concern was to dull the throbbing, prodding ache in his head. Drawing deeply on the bottle he stared at the wall, wincing at the images his mind kept producing. Things he wanted to forget.
The way Rose and Belikov had smiled at each other, their faces radiant as they stared into each other's eyes, their auras embracing. The happy sound of the Russian's laughter as he sat on the very couch Adrian now reclined upon, watching those ridiculous old westerns. The way the man had offered to bond with him—taking his darkness should the opportunity arise—even though he knew how dangerous it would was, and how it would invade his mind.
It wasn't fair. What kind of a God would let something like this happen? Belikov was a good man—this shouldn't have happened to him. And Rose… poor, poor Rose. His head fell back and his breathing slowly deepened. A moment later, he was wandering in blackness, a void where nothing existed but the echoing of his own footsteps as he spun in a circle, taking in his surroundings.
"You can't keep me out forever, you know." The voice came from all around him, the accent lacing the words sending shivers down his spine.
"Belikov?"
"Who else? Unless you've tied yourself to other unwilling participants, that I am unaware of, Lord Ivashkov?" The voice made a mockery of his title.
"Strigoi don't sleep, so this can't be a spirit dream. This is just a nightmare."
"You are correct, of course. Strigoi do not sleep, or dream. I wish I could dream. I would dream of her." The voice seemed closer, as if the darkness were closing in. "I long to dream of her, and that should not be. You did this—his spirit is tied to yours somehow, and I cannot break it free from the shackles. It is not embracing the darkness as it should, and that makes me very unhappy. You do not want to be the reason I am unhappy, Adrian Ivashkov."
Adrian peered into the darkness, trying to process Belikov's words. Something didn't add up—why had he used the term 'his spirit'? "What do you mean—"
A loud pounding cut him off. He glanced around, searching for the source of the irritating noise, catching sight of something that scared him shitless. Two, glowing red circle were slowly approaching him.
"You are waking up, Lord Ivashkov. I suggest you find out how to break the fetters that are in place. If you do not, I will simply kill you in the hopes that darkness would infuse his spirit at the moment of your death."
The pounding increased, pulling him back into awareness as he tumbled off the couch. The pain in his head seemed duller, as if the strange dream had somehow lessened the intense pressure pushing at his brain. What in the hell was going on?
"For fucks sake! Hang on," he yelled at the door, wincing at the sound of his own voice. The copious amounts of alcohol he'd consumed had left him feeling like absolute and total shit.
Stumbling over to the door he jerked it open, almost falling over in the process. "What the hell do you want?" He glared at the dark haired Moroi boy, grimacing as the interloper pushed his way inside the room.
"Christ—It smells like a distillery in here! How the hell much have you been drinking?" Christian stared at the empty bottles littering the floor. "How are you even alive?"
"Good genes?" Adrian shot back, staring at the littered floor of his apartment. It brought to mind the mess he'd made when they'd visited court, and the way Belikov had cleaned up the mess so no one would know what had happened. "Why are you here, Christian?"
"You need to… talk to Rose. Irritate her. Please."
"Irritate her? Are you kidding me? Why the hell would I want to do that?"
Christian sighed. "Because she's like a fucking zombie, Adrian. She's just going through the motions. Maybe you can snap her out of it."
"She's mourning, you idiot. She just lost the man she loved."
The next thing he knew he was pressed up against the door with Christian's hands balled up in the fabric of his shirt. "Don't start that shit again, Ivashkov, especially not now."
"It's true. Ask Petrov, she knows."
Christian released him, eyes narrowed. "I don't believe you—she wouldn't have allowed a teacher to take advantage of a student like that"
"He didn't take advantage of her. They were in love." Adrian leaned against the sofa, scrubbing his face with his palms. "Have they scheduled the memorial yet?"
"Yeah—it was two days ago."
His head snapped up. "What? How long was I out?"
"They brought the bodies back four days ago."
"Was Belikov one of them?"
Christian looked away. "No. They said his name at the service, but… everyone knows his body wasn't recovered."
"He's Strigoi."
"You don't know that. A big guy like him, they might have taken him along as…"
"A feeder." Adrian finished the sentence for him, closing his eyes and letting his head fall forward. "What does Lissa think—about Rose?"
"She's worried. Rose won't eat. Won't talk to any of us. She lets Lissa lead her around, but it's like she's not really there." He leaned against the wall. "I wish she'd told us. Maybe if she had… I don't know, we could have done something."
"Like what, keep him out of the cave that night? I tried that—I called on the radio and told them I'd had a vision and they needed to keep Rose and Belikov out of it. They didn't believe me." Adrian shoved is feet into a pair of boots, grabbing his keys. "Come on, take me to her. Maybe you're right and a little irritation is what she needs."
They walked across the campus in silence, heading towards the dhampire dorms. He saw Alberta approaching from the other direction, her head down and her face grim. Reaching over, he stopped Christian in his tracks.
"Guardian Petrov, can we talk for a minute?"
Alberta jerked at the sound of his voice, then nodded her acquiescence. "Yes Lord Ivashkov?"
"Dimitri's things… what's going to happen to them?"
"They'll be… disposed of in a few days, once someone gets around to emptying his room."
"No. They won't. If you think for one minute—"
"I don't like it any more than you do, Adrian, but it's procedure."
Pulling out his phone he glared at the woman he'd considered a friend. "Fuck procedure. If anyone touches his things, I'll make sure they can't even get a job guarding a fucking parking garage."
"I know it seems cold—"
Christian let out a bitter laugh. "Cold? It's fucking heartless, Guardian Petrov."
Adrian stepped away from them, talking quietly into his phone as he watched Alberta and Christian eye each other uncomfortably.
"So," he heard Christian say, "you knew about Rose and Belikov, huh?"
Alberta glared at Adrian, not answering the question. He smirked at her, raising an eyebrow at her menacing expression. Finishing his conversation, he shoved the phone in his pocket as he rejoined them.
"There's a fax waiting for you in your office—Kirova is receiving one as well. No one is allowed in that room except me. I'll clean it out. His things will be stored at court."
"Why do you even care, Adrian?" She asked. He could tell she was exasperated by his interference.
"It's for Rose. She might want to have his things, when she comes to terms with what's happened."
Alberta's face fell. "I didn't think—"
"No, you didn't." He smirked at her crestfallen expression. "But I did. If you could have some boxes left outside the door, I'd appreciate it."
She nodded, continuing down the path towards the administration building.
"And I'll need a key," he called after her.
She threw up her hand to indicate she'd heard him, quickening her pace as if eager to make her getaway before he voiced further demands. He sighed, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension that was building in them.
"I assume you called your aunt?" Christian asked.
""Who else?"
"How'd you get her to agree? I mean, Alberta's right, they were just operating by the book."
Adrian shoved his hands under his arms, wishing he'd grabbed a jacket. "I told her the truth."
"That you're saving them for Belikov's underage student girlfriend?"
"No." He frowned at Ozera's sarcastic comment. "I told her that Dimitri Belikov had helped me out on more than one occasion when spirit was affecting me. More importantly, I told her that he was my friend."
He kept walking, ignoring Christian's shocked expression. Chewing at his bottom lip he pondered the word friend, and how he had realized, too late, that that was indeed what Belikov had been. Their relationship may have been fucked up beyond belief due to the fact they both loved Rose—but what else did you call a man who offered to save you from yourself, no matter what it cost them? Friend seemed like too mild a word, in his opinion.
They found Rose in the commons, sitting beside Lissa, staring off into space. She seemed oblivious to the world around her, not listening to the stream of running commentary that Lissa appeared to be providing. Adrian was shocked by her appearance.
Her normally shiny hair was knotted and dirty, her close wrinkled and unwashed. In all honesty, she looked as if she hadn't had a bath in days. He wondered if it was because she couldn't bear to wash away the traces of Belikov's skin against her body.
"Hey little dhampire, did you miss me?" He asked, sliding onto the seat next to hers. "You're looking exceptionally lovely today."
She didn't even blink.
He studied her aura, wincing at the blackness. It was as if all traces of color had drained out of her, leaving behind only the dismal grays and muted blues. There was no… life reflected around her—almost as if she were an automaton, just going through the motions. He felt Christian's gaze weighing down on him, his eyes flicking up to take in the boys worried expression. A tray full of food sat before Rose, even the donuts untouched.
"Mind if I steal one of those?" He reached out, taking the doughnut and biting into it. "Ummmm. Delicious, just like you."
Nothing. Not a sarcastic quip. Not the hint of a smile. He'd been right. Losing Belikov had killed the fire within her, the spark that made Rose… well, Rose.
"Hey Rose, guess what Adrian did?" Christian leaned towards her, smirking. "He pissed Alberta off. When she said they were going to throw out Guardian Belikov's things—" He stopped in mid-sentence, stunned as she winced, her face expressing pure agony. "Shit. I'm sorry Rose. I… Adrian pulled rank. Nobody's going to touch his stuff. Queen's orders."
"Liss, I'm really tired. I'm going to head back to my room." Rose's voice was barely a whisper.
Lissa glared at Christian. "I'm not very hungry either. Let's go."
"No, I… I just need to be alone right now. I'll come see you in a little while." Rose left the table without waiting for an answer.
"Good job Christian!" Lissa smack his arm, her eyes narrowed. "Why would you bring something like that up?"
"I thought it would make her happy, to know Adrian saved his stuff. I wasn't thinking." Christian buried his head in his hands.
"Well since you didn't think, you just volunteered yourself for cleanup duty." Adrian dropped the half eaten doughnut on Rose's abandoned tray. "You can help me out with cleaning out his room tomorrow."
He stood up. "Has she been sleeping, Lissa?"
"Barely. When she does, she has nightmares about… that night."
"I figured as much. I'm going back to my room. I'll try to visit her dreams. At least I can keep the nightmares at bay."
Barely paying attention to their murmured goodbyes, he left the building, watching Rose's hunched over figure as it walked away, trying to pretend he didn't hear her crying.