As the drinking started, he tried to tell her about the prior conversations with Belikov, only to find he could only clearly remember one of them—the nightmare. He sensed there were more, lurking in the depths of his mind, but there was something… blocking the memories. The harder he tried to latch onto them, the fuzzier they got, fading away each time he attempted to focus on them. It was almost as if someone had attempted to erase them—or had used compulsion on him. But that was impossible. Only another spirit user could—

Son of a bitch.

He tossed the bottle he was holding against the wall, startling Alberta so bad that she jumped to her feet and spun in a circle, looking for an intruder. He could feel his face flushing with anger as his heart raced in his chest. He felt the darkness he'd been building up over the past few days rolling through his body, fueling his rage to frightening levels. The image of wrapping his hands around Vasilisa's pretty little neck filled his mind, making his hands tremble. God above, how did Rose handle feeling like this all the time?

"Adrian? What's going on?"

"Spirit. The darkness—just like Rose gets. Give me a minute to calm down."

Alberta shot across the room and grabbed the first bottle she saw, thrusting it into his hands as if it were a life preserver. "Drink it. Hurry."

He complied without hesitation, upending the bottle and swallowing its contents as fast as he could. As the warm burn of the bourbon hit his stomach he forced his mind to go blank, struggling to fight back the murderous thoughts that were pounding away at him. A few minutes later he could feel the hatred retreating, replaced instead with the wonderful numb feeling he'd come to know so well.

"Does that happen often?"

"First time it's hit the radar as anger. Normally I get… depressed. Rose must be rubbing off on me." The joke fell flat. "I was trying to remember the conversations with Belikov, and I hit a mental block. Someone used compulsion on me to make me forget."

"Why would anyone want to—"

"I don't know, but we're damn sure going to find out. Come on." Grabbing her hand he towed her towards the Moroi dorm. "Spirit users are immune to compulsion, Alberta. Unless it's done by another spirit user. So I'm willing to bet my trust fund that the person who did it has long blonde hair and big green eyes."

"That's ridiculous. The princess would never—"

"Bullshit," he cut her off, feeling the anger stir. "She's the only other fucking spirit user on campus. She did it the day of the rescue. I remember staring into her eyes and then everything gets… blurry. She's going to tell me why. I'll beat it out of her if I have to."

"No you won't," she snapped, tugging him to a halt. "Calm down!"

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes. "Fine. I'm going to confront her. She'll deny it. You threaten to investigate. She'll try to use compulsion on you to make you forget."

"Compulsion doesn't work on me."

"You know that and I know that, but Vasilisa doesn't." He smirked at her. "Once she realizes that, we get her to undo the whammy on me so I can remember what was said."

She studied his face carefully. "Are you in control now?"

"As in control as I can be when in the presence of a beautiful woman."

"Can the corny lines, Adrian," she said, rolling her eyes.

"And again, you wound me. Are we doing this?"

"Yes, but if Kirova finds out about it—"

"I'll take the blame. I'm crazy, remember? You were just trying to humor me, so I'd get the paranoia out of my system."

The look she shot him was part admiration mixed with an equal dose of astonishment. "You really are something, Ivashkov."

"Look who's throwing out corny lines now, Allie." Arching an eyebrow as he smiled seductively, he grabbed her hand, tugging her towards their destination.

The look of surprise on Lissa's face when she answered her door would have amused him, had the circumstances been different. As it was, the sight of her pretty face made the black fury swell within him. He'd trusted her. Tried to help her. And the little bitch had abused him in what he considered the most invasive way possible. She'd played with his memory.

"Adrian… Guardian Petrov… What's wrong?"

"Why would you ask that, Lissa?" He pushed past her, flopping down on the immaculately made spare bed. "Why not say something along the lines of 'hey guys, what are you doing here at this hour'?"

"May I come in, Princess?" Alberta asked. When Lissa nodded her acquiescence, the dhampire woman brushed past her, leaning against the wall, her arms crossed and her face betraying nothing—hidden away behind the mask that all guardians used to hide what they were thinking.

"Sorry," Lissa offered, "I just figured since it was after curfew, something was wrong. Is it about Rose?"

"I don't know—why don't you tell us," he asked.

"Excuse me?" Her confusion was written clearly across her face.

"The memories you fucked with," he said. "Did they involve Rose, or were they just about Belikov?"

Her eyes widened, her face expression just a hint of panic. "I don't understand…"

He sat up, glaring at her. "Oh, I think you do Cousin. Someone used compulsion on me to make me forget certain… conversations. And we both know that spirit users are immune to compulsion—unless another spirit user is the one wielding it."

Regaining his feet in one fluid, graceful movement, he stalked closer to where she stood by the door, ignoring the pointed look coming from Alberta. "Imagine Guardian Petrov's surprise when I tried to give her my official statement about Belikov, only to find the memory becoming… fuzzy—then disappearing almost entirely." He turned towards Alberta. "What happens when someone uses compulsion on another person, Guardian Petrov?"

"They would be arrested and sent to the Court for trial before the Council."

Lissa flinched. "I don't know what you're talking about, Adrian. Really."

"Don't make me involve my aunt, Vasilisa. We can settle this right here and now. Unless, that is, you decide to make things more… difficult."

Lissa crossed the room, approaching Alberta, stopping within a foot of the older woman. "Guardian Petrov, you don't really believe all this nonsense, do you?"

Adrian could feel the soft edge of spirit flowing through the room—he could almost see it dripping from the words she uttered in her sweet, persuasive voice. Smirking, crossed his arms. The little bitch had no idea who she was messing with.

"I would never use compulsion on another person—especially not one of my friends." Her green eyes were locked with Alberta's grey ones. "Adrian is imagining things. He's probably drunk."

"Are you attempting to use compulsion on me, Princess?" Alberta asked.

Lissa stumbled backwards just as Adrian shot over and grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him. "Guardian Petrov has an interesting… gift. She's immune to all forms of compulsion. Even when it's attempted by a spirit user. Did I not mention that before?"

"What do you want, Adrian?" Her voice was drained. "You did it to me too—Don't deny it!"

"I was trying to help you!" He snapped, glaring at her. How dare she even compare the two instances—the only similarities between them had been the use of spirit. He hadn't fucked with her memories, he'd only viewed them. "You were so distraught about Rose you weren't functioning!"

"Maybe I was trying to help you too, did you stop to consider that?" She stared out the window, not meeting his eyes.

Alberta made a small sound to get his attention—he glanced over at her, then proceeded to ignore the pointed 'we're going to talk about this' look she shot him. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed Lissa's hand, forcing her to look at him. "I want my memories back. Now. And I want you to realize that if something happens to Rose because of what you did, I'll have you up on charges faster than you can say 'Dragomir'."

"Rose… Why would something happen to Rose?"

"As if you didn't know. She's gone to hunt him. I have the strangest feeling that something he said involved my little dhampire, something that might have stopped her from taking off."

Lissa's face drained of the minute amount of blood it had contained, leaving her white as the proverbial corpse. He caught her as her knees buckled, guiding her over to her bed and gently lowering her to the mattress. "It's not too late to fix this, Lissa."

Burying her face in her hands, she choked back a tiny sob, and then began her confession.

With his memory restored, they returned to his room for their postponed celebratory drink. Of course Alberta insisted on discussing the whole 'use of compulsion on the princess' issue—strangely enough she took his side, agreeing that his use of the magic had not been malicious.

Being responsible adults, they called it quits after the fourth martini. To be honest, the only reason they'd stopped at four was because that was when Alberta realized that Belikov could be virtually anywhere in the world, in a completely different time zone. After pointing out that they had no idea where he might be, she'd done the most cruel thing imaginable, at least in his opinion. She had made him swear on Rose's life that he would totally abstain from drinking until they figured out what time he had access to Dimitri's mind.

So instead of reaching for a bottle—as he'd been prone to do upon waking almost every morning for as long as he could remember—he reached out for spirit, expanding himself as he searched for traces of the icy emotionless void that was now Belikov's mind. He failed on his initial attempt—and on each one thereafter—even though he tried off and on for the next several days.

Every time he was unsuccessful, Adrian felt a rush of fear, wondering if perhaps the prior conversations he'd had with the Strigoi had been manufactured by his own unstable mind. Frustrated, he began to lose all hope of saving his little dhampire—and that was when Alberta came up with a plan so simple that he was embarrassed. He should have thought of it himself—after all, he was the one who'd been trapped in freaky nightmares with the Russian.

They'd been sitting in her office when it happened, hashing out his latest failure over cups of stale, bitter coffee. Tired and discouraged, he was close to snapping—Alberta was acting as if she thought he wasn't really trying.

"You must be doing something wrong, Ivashkov." She frowned into her cup, glaring at the oily looking liquid. "Maybe it's all the cigarettes you've been smoking."

Sighing, he slouched down in the chair. "If the cigarettes were the problem I wouldn't be able to dream walk at all, Allie, and I can. I checked on Rose this morning and I got through just fine."

Slamming her cup down, she stared at him. "Is she okay? Did you ask her where she was?"

"Of course I did—I'm not a moron. She wouldn't tell me. Other than the fact she was pissed off at me for contacting her, I'd say she was doing alright."

"Did she say anything about Belikov?"

"No, and I didn't mention him." Adrian ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't want to make her madder than she already was. You know how difficult she can be."

"For fucks sake Adrian! You should have at least asked her if she was hunting for him—or told her about the dreams you had…" She stopped abruptly, her brow furrowed. "Adrian… When he contacted you… what were you doing?"

"Which time?"

"Any of them. All of them… There must be some common occurrence that triggers it." She pursed her lips.

"The first time I just fell into a… trance out and found myself watching Rose dream. He didn't speak to me, but I could… sense he was there." Adrian stared out the window, chilled by the memory of evil approaching in the dark. "The next time I was arguing with Vasilisa. He was suddenly in my head, demanding I deliver a message."

"To the princess?"

"Hell no. To Rose." He sighed, taking a sip of the disgusting liquid. "Then one morning I woke up and he was in my head again, threatening me—warning me that Rose was his."

Alberta stood up, walking to the window, leaning her forehead against the glass. "It certainly seems as though he hasn't lost his… protectiveness for her."

Making a sound of disgust, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "You could say that again. The most recent one—" he felt his face flushing with embarrassment, struggling to force the words out. "I was dreaming about Rose. In a bikini. He didn't like it much."

Alberta turned to face him, her lips turned up in a tiny smirk. "And therein lies out answer. You need to stop concentrating on contacting him and start trying to dream about Rose."

Adrian's eyes widened as he contemplated her statement. Was it that easy" "He did say he wished he could dream about her. Maybe… maybe he's monitoring my dreams, watching so he can catch a glimpse of her."

Nodding, Alberta raised an eyebrow, a sly, wicked smile on her lips. "Do I need to point out that if you have a… shall we say, explicit dream, the chances he'll appear are almost guaranteed?"

"But how do I keep him from… The last time, he attacked me."

"I thought you controlled the dream?" She looked confused.

"Normally I do. With him though—it's different. I think because our minds are linked somehow."

"So include a silver stake in your dream. You don't have to know how to use it, just scratch him with it if he comes too close. His instincts should make him leery of the charmed silver."

Smiling, he set his almost full mug down on her desk. "Allie, you're brilliant. If you'll excuse me, I'm feeling rather… sleepy right about now."

"In these dreams... If something happens, does it affect the person's waking form?"

He nibbled at his lower lip, considering how to answer. "In all honesty, I don't know. I told you—these dreams are different than normal spirit dreams. I guess I could try and get him to punch me. If I show up with a black eye tomorrow, then we'll have our answer."

"You said he attacked you last time, did you have any marks when you woke up?"

"I didn't think to look, Allie. It never crossed my mind to check." He paused, trying to remember. "I was sore... like I had been in a fight."

She frowned. "In that case, be safe. Don't forget to dream up some protection."

"You already said that," He smirked at her, amused by her sudden onset of motherly worry. "I won't forget a stake. Okay?"

She blushed, studying the top of her desk. "That's not the kind of protection I meant, Adrian."

He stared at her, puzzled by her reaction. "Then what the hell are you—oh." Now it was his turn to blush. "I wasn't planning on getting quite that explicit in the dream, Allie."

"Just in case. Humor me."

Embarrassed beyond belief, he was almost out the door when her soft voice froze him in his tracks.

"Adrian…" He turned, only to be rewarded with a saucy wink. "Sweet dreams. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

That was the final straw. He bolted out the door, her husky contralto laughter chasing him down the hallway.