"Tasha make it away ok?" I asked Lissa the next morning at breakfast. Christian had yet to arrive, so it was just the two of us sitting at our usual table.
"Yeah, she did. Turns out you could have come for dinner. Christian invited Brandon."
Well, it was nice to know I hadn't been intentionally excluded, but I wasn't sure why she was bothering to tell me now when she could have rung or sent me a text last night. Not that I minded – if she'd done so I would have had to come up with an excuse not to go, so she'd done me a favor.
I was on my second round of buttered toast when Lissa squealed beside me, causing me to immediately jump up and into a defensive position, scanning every direction for potential threats. But Lissa was looking at me.
"What's that on the back of your neck?" she gasped.
"Shh!" I grumbled, sitting back down. "I don't want everyone to know."
She was talking about my molnija. Now they'd stopped itching I'd all but forgotten about them, although I did remember to wear my hair down this morning. It was only because I'd been sitting with my cheek resting on my hand and my hair had fallen to one side that she'd noticed.
"When did you get them done?" she demanded. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Day after you went to Canada and it didn't come to mind yesterday when we were talking," I said honestly. "It's no big deal, and I don't want to make a fuss about it, ok? Please don't say anything to anyone."
Lissa promised, and I went back to nibbling at my toast. The last thing I wanted to do was draw attention to myself, but I guess it was inevitable. I had Advanced Guardian Combat Techniques in first period and Weight Training and Conditioning in third. Both hands-on classes where I'd be forced to wear my hair up. I just really didn't want people staring – especially since I wasn't looking too good these days. I appeared tired, and I'd lost a bit of weight. I was eating as often as I could, but I was also training a lot, so I was burning off a lot of calories. And it was only going to get worse now that I'd be exercising during class times, too. I probably needed to eat more than I was managing to, so I added it to my mental list of things to ask Dr. Olendzki when I came clean about things.
Christian and Brandon arrived and sat at our table. I didn't know Brandon that well. He was from one of the minor branches of the Lazar clan - so while he was royal, his part of the family was less involved in the politics and campaigning than some of the others according to Lissa. Not that any of that meant much to me. Socially he was a bit of a floater. He hung out with Jesse and Ralf sometimes but also some of the more studious Moroi students and even Aaron and that group from time to time. He and Christian were talking sport, so Lissa and I chatted while we breakfasted. The three were just standing up to head to the feeders when Eddie and Mason arrived.
"Big day, Rose!" Mason grinned, rubbing the back of his neck none too subtly. Like me, he figured today the rest of the year would find out about my molnija.
"Shut it!" I growled, with a quick eye flick to Christian and Brandon. There was no point letting the Moroi in on the gossip before it was absolutely necessary! They didn't seem to have noticed and headed off to the feeders, Lissa with a promise we'd talk at lunch.
I returned to the cafeteria queue to grab a pile of toast. Back at our table, I buttered each slice before slipping them into a take-out container and into my bag. Toast was the only thing I could reliably stomach before lunchtime, so I took a stack to nibble on between classes. I'd tried one of my favorite chocolate doughnuts the other day and immediately regretted it. So, for now, it was buttered toast. I noticed Eddie and Mason share a confused look as they watched me.
"Come on let's go," I grumbled grabbing my bag and heading to Advanced Guardian Combat Techniques in the gym.
It was going great until Blake Aylett passed behind me to collect a couple of medicine balls.
"Hathaway? Why have you drawn molnija on the back of your neck?" he asked loudly – intentionally attracting the attention of the majority of the class. I cursed under my breath.
"Molnija aren't drawn on, they're tattooed, you moron. Do you pay attention in classes at all?!" I retorted. Blake was known for not being the brightest student.
"Drawn. Tattooed. The question is why do you have three on the back of your neck?" he persisted.
"Because I killed three Strigoi," I said quietly, aware the entire class was watching the two of us.
"Bullshit," Blake said. I shrugged and kept practicing the slow motion elbow thrusts we were working on. "If you'd killed Strigoi how come I don't know about it?"
"Maybe because it's none of your business?"
"Maybe because it didn't happen?" he countered. I shrugged again.
He came closer and tried to touch the back of my neck. I had him pinned on the floor before he knew what had happened.
"Don't try to touch me. Ever," I growled. "Yes, they're real. Yes, I killed three Strigoi. No, it's not your business and no I don't wish to discuss it," I said before climbing off him.
"I still say it's bullshit," he said, but with a little less conviction.
"You know shit," Eddie said, walking over. "Mason and I were there for the inking. Rose killed three Strigoi completely unaided. Part of the report was read out at the ceremony and Rose was called of the best Novices in this generation!" There were murmurs of astonishment and disbelief from the rest of the class. I knew he was trying to be a faithful friend, but I'd happily murder Eddie just then. So much for keeping my molnija low key.
"Yep. I'm awesome, and Blake knows shit. Can we all please move on now?" I said looking to our teacher Guardian Townsend. I saw the corner of his mouth twitch.
"Well said, Novice Hathaway. If you can all line up, I have a new move I'd like you to attempt today…"
I headed to the showers at the end of class. There were only a handful of female Novices, and while I could see them subtly trying to take a look at my neck, no one said anything. We all showered, and I hung back in the cubicle, putting my bra and panties on before I came back out. It wasn't just modesty – my breasts were changing big time, and I didn't want any of the girls to notice. As well as being quite a bit larger than before, there were veins visible beneath the surface of the skin, and my nipples were darker. Once a dusky pink they were now more of a pinky-brown color. They were also hugely sensitive and at times itchy.
I hadn't washed my hair, so I let it back down and headed to my next class. Eddie and Mason walked with me. I got there just in time for the bell, and I could tell the other Novices had been talking about me and my molnija when I walked in. As soon as he entered, Stan could sense discord. The man had a freaking radar for that sort of thing.
"Is there a problem?" he asked with a sardonic grin, looking to where Blake was surrounded by a few other Novices.
"No problem Guardian Alto," Blake said. "Just trying to work out why Hathaway is telling everyone she killed three Strigoi and got molnija," he said, shooting me a satisfied look. If you could rely on Stan for one thing, it was to grasp any opportunity to humiliate me.
"Actually if I remember correctly, you asked and I told you it was none of your business," I retorted shooting Blake a look that would scare most Novices.
"Is that so?" Stan drawled slowly, looking between the two of us. This was going to be a close thing. While he hadn't been at the inking, I was pretty sure Stan would know about my Qualifier and molnija, so it came down to whether he disliked Blake or me more. Stan and I certainly had a longer history, but then Blake casting aspersions on Stan's sexuality had been more recent.
So I tried something I'd never tried with Stan before. I let the tears I was fighting well in my eyes, and I shot him a brief pleading look before I looked at the floor. He was a Guardian and had molnija himself. He must know the mixed feelings that went along with that. And he also knew, at least on some level, I was still suffering after Dimitri's reallocation. Never one to show my vulnerable side, particularly to him, I'm not sure which of us was more shocked.
"Ayett? There's an old proverb someone like yourself should become familiar with. It's better to stay silent and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt. Hathaway is many things, but she's not an idiot – and only an idiot would wander around a training Academy claiming to have molnija they hadn't earned. I happen to know Hathaway made the kills and was inked over the holidays. If you spent more attention on your studies and less time on puerile gossip, you might be in a position to do likewise should the opportunity arise," Stan said in an arctic tone of voice.
We took our seats, and the lesson started. Stan avoided looking at me all class. I think both of us were a little embarrassed by the lapse in our customary hostilities. After that, the Novices accepted my molnija. Most of them were well mannered enough about it. Over the next few days a couple tried to ask what happened, but after my first few polite refusals, they stopped asking.
Day by day the weeks slipped away with no news of my Russian God. My morning sickness was getting better which meant I was able to eat a little more which certainly helped with my mood. I was still reading the pregnancy book and sending Comrade emails telling him what was going on with myself and Junior. It was an exercise in futility, but I had to do something. Because with each passing day, my hope that Dimitri would come home to me was fading.
Today was two months, three days since I'd last held my beloved Roza. Seven weeks since I'd last heard her tell me she loved me. The sharp pain of missing her had subsided. Now it was a dull gnawing ache that threatened to consume me with every breath I took. As a student, I'd read books where authors described all consuming loves. I hadn't understood what they'd meant until I'd experienced my own. And now the pain of being apart from my love threatened to burn my soul alive. Because I needed her. No matter what I was doing the call to be with her was always there – that constant thought in the back of my mind.
I went through the motions. Buying supplies for our smaller group. Eating. Showering. Turning towards the television with sightless eyes as my brain replayed images of Rose. My beautiful Roza. Sparring, lying in my arms, laughing, eating, looking into my eyes as we made love, sleeping. An amaranthine memory reel of my beloved that tortured every bit as much as it soothed. Oh, the irony - that the pleasure which accompanied this pain was all that kept me from completely giving into my despair.
We'd been living in our fetid quarters for six weeks – hunting every night. We'd killed around two-dozen Strigoi - all rogues roaming the city in solitude. Until last night that is when we'd killed four. A scouting party, they'd been sent out to look for us - just like we'd been sent to look for them. We didn't manage to get much information. Two were dead before we had a chance to question them, and the remaining two had little to say other than that their commander knew our cells were here and that we stood no chance against their army. I'd staked the one who said that myself, but it didn't erase the ominous threat behind his words. He was right, and the disappearance of the fourth cell since we'd been deployed confirmed it. One way or another, this purgatory was coming to an end, and while I was in no hurry to breathe my last, something needed to happen because this inaction and uncertainty were a sort of death of its own.
I'd lain awake half the next day, sleep eluding me yet again. Staring at pictures of my milaya, I wondered what she'd be doing. When it was day here it was night there, so she'd probably be in classes. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine her eating in the cafeteria with the Princess, giving Alto shit in his classes and training with Celeste. It was a comforting thought. She might be sad I wasn't there, but Roza's life would go on - a clean, unblemished page on which to write her own story. A story I was sure would be magnificent.
Eventually, sleep claimed me, and I had the best dream I'd had in a long time. Of her – my dreams were always of her. We were sitting in my family home in Baia. We were at the kitchen table, surrounded by the family I loved. Rose was sitting on my lap, and I was feeding her black bread. She was bickering good-naturedly with my youngest sister while my other sisters chatted with Mama. I was content - silently watching my family and my love. Everything seemed so natural. Precisely as it should be. Then I looked up to see Babushka at the head of the table.
"It's not too late, Dimka. This can still be," she commented, lifting her favorite pottery teacup to her lips. A hideous, misshapen thing Karolina had made her when she was in the early years of school, Yeva had sworn tea never tasted as good from anything else and had drunk exclusively from it ever since.
"I'm scared, Babushka."
"I know. You need to decide. It will be a battle, and you'll be tested in every way, but she'll be worth it..."
My grandmother had more to say, but I could feel myself waking. In my dream, I gave Rose a last squeeze goodbye and kissed her hair. She turned to me and smiled and I opened my eyes to see Alan in front of me.
"Sorry, Belikov. It's time to get up," he said apologetically, pretending not to notice as I gathered up my handful of photos and slipped them into the duster I was wearing even as I lay in bed. It was bitterly cold, and without heating, we were all rugged up as best we could.
Night had fallen an hour before, and we were finishing our evening meal prior to hunting when the door to our unit burst open. Close to two-dozen Strigoi piled into the room before we had any real chance to respond. Stefano reached for his stake but was dead before his hand got to the holster. A good man and a fine Guardian, he deserved a better death than having the life fade from his eyes as he slumped onto the putrid carpet of the hovel where we were staying.
Eugene attempted to stake one, but another snapped his neck from behind. They had us surrounded, and I knew there was no getting out of this. As I looked at the red eyes surrounding us, I hoped I'd get to go the same way as Stefano and Eugene. Dead, so my loved ones could mourn me and move on.
"STOP!" the leading Strigoi commanded. The four of us obeyed, recognizing a lost cause when he saw one. "Yaroslav… I thought that was you," he spoke in Russian, looking to our leader.
"Semyon," Slav replied, looking to the Strigoi. "I'm sorry to meet again this way. I didn't know you'd been turned."
The Strigoi Semyon gave a mirthless laugh. "A lot has happened since I saw you last, old friend. I was awakened six months ago. And don't pity me - pity those who oppose the army we're building."
I looked at the Strigoi surrounding me. Army was the right word. These weren't typical Strigoi – undisciplined and solely interested in their next feed. They were a structured, cohesive fighting unit. Regimented soldiers of the undead. Fast and unmerciful, bent solely on domination and destruction. What a truly frightening thought.
Semyon looked around, taking in Liam, Alan, and I. "What's your name?" he asked me in Russian.
"Belikov," I replied curtly.
"You trained at St. Basil's too, didn't you? A few years below Yaroslav and I?" And then I placed him. He'd been in one of the other houses, but he'd been a skilled fighter. No wonder they'd recruited him.
"I did," I replied coldly. I just wanted this to be over. And then it was.
"Bring those two. Kill the other two," he ordered.
I felt hands grabbing me, evil red eyes regarding me with undisguised mirth. The not entirely unexpected bite of something sharp perforating my skin before blissful peace as one by one my senses left me. I was vaguely aware of my legs collapsing beneath me, but it wasn't important now. My eyes closed, I could see my beautiful Rose standing before me. So close I could almost touch her.
Surrounded by golden light, her raven tresses rippling as she moved, she was laughing and holding her hands out to me.
"I love you, Comrade!" she said, smiling and dancing through a field of wildflowers that were undulating beneath a fragrant breeze. She turned away from me but kept looking back with a smile full of love and promise to make sure I was following her. And of course, I was. I loved her with everything I was, and I'd follow her anywhere.
She was fading just as I caught up with her. I grabbed her hand, and she turned, a look of true joy on her face.
"I love you, Roza. Always," I said. And as my words faded so did she, and I succumbed to darkness.