A/N: I apologize for the delay in getting this next chapter up. As you know from my last update, I've been sick, and to make matters even worse, Adrian has been misbehaving, in his typical arrogant fashion—he's been in a drunken frenzy in my head, trying to commandeer the story and take it in a completely different direction. Since AB is based on the actual series, just from his Point of View, I cannot make the changes he wants. If it were up to him, right now he'd be flying off to Russia to rescue Rose. That does not follow the books, so it's not going to happen.

The same thing happened when I had to write the cave scene. I was totally blocked, because I wanted to make changes that were impossible. As a result, I ended up writing the two shot 'Beyond One's Control' to get the idea out of my head. That's probably what I'll have to do again, so you might get a new one shot due to my block within the next week or so. I've got it down on paper, but it needs some tweaking.

I know that explanation sounds completely crazy, and I apologize for that. I think the way characters take on a life of their own is something only another writer can fully comprehend.

On the plus side, I'm already half way through with the next chapter for this story. It was inspired by the-adrian-ivashkov on tumblr, who spent a good portion of last night and today acting out Adrian's spirit induced madness on my dashboard. The portrayal was so excellent that it started the gears spinning in my head—it's about time for a little more spirit induced madness to rock Adrian's world. What better time for him to lose his sense of self than when he's struggling to find a way to help his little dhampir? So this chapter is dedicated to the-adrian-ivashkov for inspiring me with the inner workings of poor Adrian's mumble jumbled mind.

In addition, I have received numerous Private messages (17 of them total) both on Fan Fiction and on Tumbler asking (actually, that is far too polite a term. I should say demanding) that I write select portions of Aurora Borealis as one shots from Dimitri's Point of View. Well those of you that have asked will be getting your wish, because you've started my mind rolling all the different possibilities around in my head, and I won't be able to concentrate on my novel until I get the ideas on paper.

The story will be called 'AB One Shots' and I will have the first two chapters up later today. They were an anonymous request that was made to my Rose Hathaway RP account, and will cover chapters 61 & 62 (Adrian's dream and the hunt Adrian witnessed). Again, they will be in Dimitri's Point of View. (I'm actually having quite a bit of fun writing as Strigoi Dimitri—he's just so… wicked and animalistic. *shivers*.

Sorry for the uber long A/N—it won't happen again!

Thanks to everyone who reads my stories, I appreciate each and every one of you. Your kind words and reviews mean the world to me—so much so that I put my 'real' writing to the side far too often just to work on fan fiction updates for you.

samwysesr

Adrian wrapped his hands around the coffee mug Alberta handed him, thankful for its warmth. He was freezing—feeling as if he were still trapped inside Belikov's cold form. The scene he'd witnessed—lived—kept playing through his mind on a loop, over and over, tormenting him.

"Are you even listening to me? Or you so damned drunk you can't focus?"

Alberta's words pulled him out of his head and back into the room, giving him a moments reprieve from watching the poor woman in his mind die again. "I told you I'm not fucking drunk!"

It was the third time he'd vehemently repeated the statement in the last ten minutes. He'd tried—and failed—to explain what had happened, but Alberta kept cutting him off every time he opened his mouth.

"You threw up on my shoes, Ivashkov." She paused her nonstop pacing to glare at him for a moment. "And you're never up this early unless you've pulled an all-night drinking binge."

Staring up at the ceiling, he slowly counted to one hundred as he tuned out her rant. He knew how suspicious it looked, but for God's sake, he didn't even have the slightest buzz. Unaware that her words were falling on deaf ears, Alberta continued to rail at him, making him wonder if Rose had ever been on the receiving end of one of Alberta's lectures. If she had, with her temper, it was a wonder she'd had enough control not to knock the older woman out.

As if the mere thought of Rose channeled her ever-growing darkness, he snapped. "Do you want to know what fucking happened, or are you just going to keep bitching at me all damn day?"

Alberta's head swiveled, her eyes narrowed. "I know what happened, you broke your word."

"I got sucked into Belikov's head while he stalked and killed a woman!" His voice sounded shrill, making him wince. Ever since waking, his head had been pulsing with a painful headache. "I felt it, every bit of it. I smelled her. Tasted her blood. Took pleasure in her life draining away while I held her limp body in my arms."

Alberta's eyes widened in shock. "How is that even possible?"

"Fuck if I know. When you woke me up, I could still—" A wave of nausea hit him, forcing him to close his eyes as he fought against emptying his stomach again. "I tasted her blood in my mouth. That's why I puked."

She collapsed into her chair, eyes locked on his face as she studied him. He stared right back, unfazed. He was telling the truth, and he'd be damned if he'd look away first. After a moment, she lost their silent battle, her gaze dropping to her clasped hands.

"I'm sorry—I just assumed—"

His sharp bark of dry laughter cut her off. "Forget about it Allie. I'm used to people assuming the worst about me. We've got more important things to talk about."

For the first time in days, he saw a flicker of hope cross her tired face. "What did you find out?"

"He's left the area—he claims it was so Rose would be safe. He's in Russia. I think. Somewhere where they speak Russian, at least, and all the signs were in Cyrillic. So either Russia or the Ukraine."

"That makes no sense—a Strigoi would only care about killing her or turning her. He should be somewhere nearby, hunting her."

Adrian winced at the thought, his mind instantly threatening to pull him back into the looping scene again. "He's… weird, Allie. It's almost like he has two personalities. At first I felt like I was talking to Belikov—the guardian… the man. Then…" Adrian shivered. "He changed. The Strigoi took control and any… goodness—for lack of a better word—in him just vanished."

"That's impossible." Her tone was matter of fact, leaving no room for discussion.

"Is it? He said that because I'd used so much spirit on him, I caused… complications."

"How often did you use it? And what kind of complications could there possibly be? He's a fucking Strigoi, for Christ's sake!"

Sighing, he ran his fingers through his tousled hair. "A lot. I already told you, I was testing some stuff Lissa and I discovered. I focused on him, because…" He stared down at the floor, feeling ashamed. He should have accepted that Rose loved the Russian and left it at that. But no, in typical, arrogant Ivashkov fashion, he'd fucked with the man's mind, infusing him with so much spirit that now Belikov was somehow trapped inside himself in some kind of limbo. "Because of Rose. I was jealous, and acted like an ass, and now he's suffering because of it. The good part of his spirit is still there, locked inside, experiencing every depraved act that the Strigoi does."

His voice hitched slightly, and Alberta caught it, her face softening. "It's not your fault."

"It most certainly fucking is. I experimented on him. I blocked out my dreams, not trying to remember what I'd seen. I wanted Rose and wasn't going to take no for an answer."

"There's no real proof that this is true. He could be playing with you. Did you try to reach Rose again?"

He smirked at her sudden change of subject, letting her know it hadn't been nearly subtle enough to escape notice. "Yeah… about that… I kind of fucked that up too."

Alberta rolled her eyes. "So you forgot to try."

"No I didn't!" His voice came out sharper than he'd intended. His own darkness was building up, due to his abstention from his habits. The tiny amount of alcohol he'd consumed hadn't been nearly enough to keep it away. Fumbling in his pocket, he pulled out a cigarette, shrugging off the dirty look that Alberta shot him. "Look, spirit is getting to me. I need it."

She sighed. "You were saying?"

"If you remember, I was trying to contact Belikov last night, not Rose. When I—"

"And you did." She cut him off, earning a glare in return. "You already told me you witnessed his… feeding. So how exactly did you 'fuck up' ?"

"If you'd quit interrupting me, you might find out." He stared at her until she nodded an acknowledgement to his accusation, then continued. "I imagined myself on a picnic with Rose—not the real Rose, but one I created. She looked like Rose, but acted in the way I wanted her to. I—"

Alberta fidgeted and opened her mouth, as if she wanted to ask something. He sighed, frustrated. "For fucks sake, what?"

Her eyes were narrowed, her expression angry. "Do you do that often? Create a dream Rose that does whatever you want?"

He stared at her for a moment, not comprehending her meaning. As he processed her words and the venom in her voice, his face twisted in disgust. "You know what? I'm done."

Standing, he moved to the door, only to be stopped when she latched onto his arm. "Adrian, I'm sorry. I thought you might… I'm sorry."

"Sorry you thought I was so desperate that I'd make myself a Rose sex toy? I have more respect for her than that. Any dreams I have that are like that are one hundred percent real. I don't purposefully try to—"

"I'm sorry. Please, I won't interrupt again. Sit back down." She took the seat beside him this time, not retreating behind her desk.

He glared at her a moment before sitting. He still wanted to tell her to go to hell, but Rose was more important than his wounded pride. "As I was saying, I created a scene so lifelike that Belikov appeared almost immediately. Only problem was, I forgot to envision a stake. After my freaky discussion with both sides of his personality, he looked like he was about to attack me. I pulled on spirit, and it changed the dream. It made it into a spirit dream, and dragged the real Rose right into the middle of it." When he paused, she shot him a look so he indicated she could speak, his hand shaking as he inhaled deeply on his cigarette before flicking his ashes into the coffee.

"So she saw him. How did she react? Did she attempt to protect you?" Her voice was low, betraying none of the emotions that raced across her face.

"She didn't see him. I blocked him from her line of sight with my body. But she heard his voice and lost it. You were right, Allie, she can't kill him. She fought me, just to get a fucking glimpse at him—protecting me was the last thing on her mind. And Belikov… Well he seemed more determined than ever to reclaim her. He even threatened Lissa."

"What does the princess have to do with any of this?"

"He said Lissa had taken advantage of his woman for far too long, and he was going to free Rose from her clutches once and for all." Adrian dropped the cigarette—now so short he could feel its heat on his fingers—into the mug. "Whatever we're going to do, it has to be done fast. If Rose finds Belikov before we can track her down, she's a goner."

Alberta dropped her head into her hands, effectively hiding her face. Adrian was willing to bet half his inheritance that for once, she realized she couldn't keep her stoic guardian facade in place. He understood her feelings—the thought of Rose as a Strigoi haunted him. He could all to easily imagine Rose as a pale, deadly beauty, stalking the night at Belikov's side, hunting down victims. It would be a match made in hell, both of them ferocious, without the slightest hint of mercy. Furthermore, he was willing to bet that if Belikov actually achieved his goal and transformed Rose, it would kill whatever goodness remained in the man, shearing whatever ties spirit had made with the man he'd been before.

"So what now?" Alberta asked, her voice once again sounding hopeless. "We have nothing to go on other than the fact he's somewhere in Russia. It's not like I can send a team after Rose—she's eighteen now."

"Well I'm going to hear to court later today—to search the library for information. Maybe there's something in the archives about whatever it is that spirit has done to Belikov. Maybe…" He trailed off, a seed of hope slowly sprouting in his mind. "Maybe there's something I can do—somehow I can use the link to keep him away from our Rosebud." Shrugging, he leaned over, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's a start, at least. Better than sitting around here fretting."

Alberta nodded and a few minutes later he excused himself. One battle down, one to go—now the had the appealing task of facing off with the schools headmistress. He had a feeling she wasn't going to be pleased when she found out he was commandeering a plane.

He left for court an hour later, his status as the Queens favorite family member overriding Kirova's displeasure. Napping for most of the four and a half hour flight, he was off the plane as soon as the all clear was given, anxious to him the library. Of course, his luck being what it was, his hopes of slipping in and out of court without all the usual hoopla that his arrival brought was brought to a screeching halt as soon as his feet touched the tarmac. The headmistress had taken her complaints straight to the top and in doing so had alerted his aunt of his visit. A contingent of Royal Guards stood on the airstrip, sent ahead to collect him.

Ignoring them, he attempted to circumvent the waiting limo, determined to reach the large garage that housed the surplus of vehicles kept on hand for the convenience of visiting Royals. He was stopped almost immediately as a large, calloused hand closing around his elbow.

"Lord Ivashkov," the dhampir bowed, "her Majesty is waiting to greet you."

"I'm sure she'd want me to settle into guest housing and freshen up before you whisk me off to see her."

"Her Majesty was very specific in her orders, sir. We are to take you directly to your families residence—she is waiting there to speak with you."

"Oh for Christ's sake, fine."

Muttering under his breath about being treated like an infant, Adrian let the guardian lead him to the limo and within minutes, they were pulling up in front of his parents town house. Not waiting for the driver or one of the guardians to get the door, he shot out of the vehicle, and was through the door in a flash, shutting it quietly behind him. He made an immediate beeline for the stairs, taking them two at a time, anxious to disappear into the depths of the large residence. He was two stairs from being home free when his mother appeared at the foot of the staircase, decimating yet another perfectly good escape.

"I thought I heard someone out here. Your aunt and I have been waiting for you."

Running his hands through his hair and tugging at the collar of his shirt, he descended the staircase as slowly as possible, feeling like a man on death row headed towards the gas chamber. His sense of dread grew with each step he took, until it engulfed any happiness he might have felt at seeing his mother again. Pressing a dutiful kiss against her upturned cheek he sighed, turning to face the sitting room and the woman that waited within.

"Thought you could sneak past us?" Tatiana's voice was light, but he could sense the hidden reproach in her words.

"Actually I was planning on freshening up—the toilets on places just aren't up to my standards."

"Adrian!" His mother's eyes widened in horror as she shot him an angry look.

Tatiana's husky laughter took the heat from his mother's eyes. "Is that your less than polite way of telling me I'm not as important as your bodily functions?"

"Hardly—you know how I am, Aunt Tatiana, always trying to shock and appal everyone around me."

"Too true." She nodded, her grey eyes narrowing. "Tell me, why didn't your little… friend come along with you?"

Her tone told him she knew the answer, but still he tried to bluff. "She had something to attend to. She sends her regards."

"Really? I was under the impression she'd dropped out. I seem to recall hearing she'd gone off to hunt for her mentor—the one that disappeared in the attack. What was his name again?"

"Belikov. Dimitri Belikov." He had trouble keeping the anger out of his voice.

Realizing she'd hit a nerve, Tatiana's smile widened. Like a shark that scented blood in the water, she was circling, ready to deliver a deadly bite. "Such devotion! It's admirable that she feels such… dedication to an instructor. I can't imagine many students risking their lives in such a manner. One might think there was something more to their relationship, don't you think?"

Groaning, Adrian headed across the room where the wet bar called to him like a distress beacon on a cold, dark night. The only way he could possibly get through his aunt's interrogation without betraying his little dhampir was to get plastered as quickly as possible. Thank God his parents had restocked the liquor cabinet after his last visit.