The last two weeks had been the worst of my life. Every time I closed my eyes, it was with the fervent hope that I'd wake to find this whole thing had been a nightmare and that in reality, I was running my customary five minutes late to morning training with my Russian God. But I'd wake, and the reality was the same. I was here. And Dimitri wasn't.

After my sacrilegious comments in Church on Sunday, Alberta had decided I was not yet well enough to return to classes, so on Monday I'd been taken down to spend the day under the keen observation of Dr. Olendzki and staff. Dr. Olendzki had wanted to do some tests to try and get to the bottom of how two Dhampir had managed to conceive, so I sat there being prodded and poked all day. She explained she'd be sending samples to a lab under a fictitious name, requesting a DNA workup to see whether there were any anomalies.

After a day in the infirmary, I decided I needed to return to classes – if not for my grades then for my sanity. I spoke with Alberta, and she reluctantly agreed. She stipulated that an announcement needed to be made about Dimitri, but I knew it would stir up speculation once again, so after some pleading, she agreed to hold off until the end of the week. We decided that if Kirova made an announcement on Friday just before the end of classes, by Monday, the initial gossip should have abated. Alberta also told me Guardian Schoenberg was due back on campus that weekend and would be staying for the week assessing me for my combat training.

"Although he's semi-retired he's still head of the Examination Board, so he can approve any modification or pass you entirely at his discretion. I know you'll be fifteen weeks this weekend, and you're allowed to train until you're twenty, but all your instructors say you're ready and it's only going to get harder the further into your pregnancy we leave it. I also thought if Guardian Schoenberg were here assessing you, it would protect you from the worst of the gossip in the week after we make the announcement about Dimitri," she explained kindly. She was right. Guardian Schoenberg was respected and feared, and not only amongst the Dhampir community. It would be a rare Moroi indeed who'd risk provoking his displeasure.

So I limped through four days of classes, not saying a word unless spoken to, until Friday afternoon when I ditched my final lesson for the week, Mason, Eddie, and Celeste joining me in my dorm room. At 3.15 am exactly, the campus PA crackled into life, Kirova's voice making the sad announcement that Guardian Dimitri Belikov, one of the school's former Guardians, had been sent on a mission and was missing believed turned.

As she spoke I sat on my bed, eyes closed, playing with the stakes they'd sent back to me. It was a poor exchange. I'd sent them the man I loved, and all they'd returned to me were two lengths of polished silver. I ran my thumb over where his name was etched near the hilt. I wished he'd not had them engraved because then I'd be able to believe that maybe, just maybe, he was still alive. But there's no way Dimitri would ever relinquish his stakes willingly, so it was further proof that yes, he was gone.

Guardian Schoenberg arrived early on the Saturday, and Celeste and I spent almost the entire weekend in the gym with him, leaving only to visit the cafeteria and sleep. Alberta had been right about one thing – not a single student, Novice or Moroi, dared approach while I sat silently eating at the table opposite Celeste, Schoenberg and occasionally other Guardians listening to them converse.

Even in my depressed state, I would have had to have been blind not to notice the difference in Celeste. Like me, she usually chose comfort over style when it came to working out, but over the weekend she was wearing her nicest gym gear and even a little bit of waterproof makeup to our sessions. Being the start of March, the weather was still a little chilly, but that didn't stop Celeste wearing her tiniest shorts and a crop top to spar with me on Sunday. With her toned Guardian body, she looked hot, and I wondered whether Guardian Schoenberg had any idea she was dressing in next to nothing for his benefit. After one particularly full on tussle, I thought I caught him looking at her admiringly, but it was hard to know whether he was admiring her technique or whether he was instead paying attention to the way her full breasts were jiggling in the tiny crop top as she panted for breath after our fight.

The following week we settled into a pattern. Up early to train with Celeste, Guardian Schoenberg joining us. At first, he silently completed his workout while watching us do likewise, but by the middle of the week he was telling me about various advanced techniques, he and Celeste demonstrating them together for me. I could tell Celeste relished the opportunity to work so closely with the Godlike Schoenberg, so I'd occasionally ask for clarification on a technique so that he'd fight with her to demonstrate it.

After training we'd go to breakfast and then to morning classes where Schoenberg would watch me work with Celeste, or the Guardians in charge of my practical classes, ticking off required maneuvers from a long list on his clipboard. Eddie nearly peed himself when Schoenberg called him over during one lesson so he could assess me working with a taller opponent. At six foot three Eddie was one of the tallest Novices.

"Not that I suppose you'd have any trouble working with a lofty opponent," Schoenberg had acknowledged sadly, referring to my Russian God's freakishly tall six foot seven stance.

By the end of the week, I was exhausted, and even Celeste was looking a little weary. I'd completed the full range of assessments that were usually assessed over two months in just one week. At the end of Weight Training and Conditioning on Friday, Schoenberg called for a moment's silence as he announced to the class that I had passed all the combat tests required for graduation as a Guardian. I still had my Guardian theory and academic exams, but the difficult combat section had been ticked off.

"How come she doesn't have to do the field test or her trials? It's not fair," Blake grumbled under his breath resentfully.

"What's your name?" Guardian Schoenberg barked at him.

"Blake Aylett, sir," Blake answered with a gulp.

"Well, Novice Aylett, Novice Hathaway has been excused from the field test and trials on the basis of already having surpassed those requirements. She kept the Dragomir Princess safe for two years in a real-world setting, and I personally witnessed her kill three Strigoi when we fought side-by-side before Christmas. These both more than satisfy the requirements for graduation."

That caused titters amongst the class. While it had come to be accepted I had three molnija, the particulars were not well known; so only a few people knew I'd earned my ink fighting alongside Guardian Schoenberg. The class dismissed, Celeste and I hit the showers. Meredith, Chelsea, and Angela coming over to congratulate me. I'd barely spoken to them since I'd heard the news about Dimitri, but it hadn't been personal. I'd barely said a word to anyone.

At lunch, I sat with Alberta, Celeste, and Guardian Schoenberg.

"So have you made any plans for the future?" Schoenberg asked kindly. I could see he was concerned for me.

"Not really. I'm working with the Guidance Counselor, and we're trying to find me a job somewhere near Court… I'm hoping once the baby is a year or so old, I'll be able to get an allocation there."

"Then list me as a referee. I'd be very happy to speak for you, whether it's a Guardian position or otherwise."

It was a kind gesture, and I appreciated it. Schoenberg's reputation was golden, so his name might well help tip things in my favor; and let's face it, I could use every bit of help I could get.

The last two weeks had been the hardest of my life. For the past fortnight, I'd worked on my plan. I had free rein of the manor but was not unaware that my movements were still at least partially monitored and reported to Galina. Consequently, I'd adopted a routine that incorporated all of the places that I needed to go, so over time what I was doing became less scrutinized. More often than not I wasn't even accompanied anymore.

I'd start my day by making Galina's breakfast. She'd been getting more and more blunt in her suggestions that I share her bed, if not all the time at least when she required it, and last night she'd asked straight out whether I intended to have sex with her.

She'd asked just after she'd fed from me, something she now did every third or fourth day, and I was so euphoric from her venom I would have agreed to just about anything. In fact, I'd almost told her yes when my beautiful Rose's face flashed through my mind, and I remembered my plan – and why I was so desperate to escape. So I'd clung to Rose's image in my foggy brain, telling Galina that I was hoping to save being with her sexually for the day I was turned - to make it an intimate celebration of my awakening. She'd threatened to awaken me then and there so she could have what she wanted.

"It's only a week to go now," I murmured languidly. "It won't be as good when you expose Nathan if he doesn't see me awakened and stepping up to be your second and your lover," I'd reminded her.

She'd grumbled but agreed – her sense of showmanship overcoming her desires. Well at least for me.

"Take Belikov to his room and go find Semyon," she'd ordered one of her minions. "Tell him I require his services for the evening."

Galina was unused to being denied anything, so I had to redouble my efforts to make sure she believed I still intended to be turned. Especially since this week I needed to organize the awakening payment to my family. While it was not my goal to be turned, if the worst happened I wanted my family to be able to live comfortably.

With the Moroi and Guardian dorms now vacant, no one needed feeding, so the kitchens were almost always empty; something that suited me well. No one batted an eyelash as I wandered down to cook for myself and Galina every morning after waking. As Strigoi, Galina didn't strictly need to eat food, able to be wholly sustained by blood, but she particularly enjoyed red wine and sweets. Conscious of the need to appease her, I made her a breakfast of crepes with cherries marinated in port and a dark chocolate sauce. It was a lot of effort for what amounted to only a few mouthfuls of food, but as I was stewing the cherries, I made my own breakfast. Walking past the old cooker and door to the old coal shoot, I went through to the still well-provisioned larder grabbing the ingredients for an omelet for myself. Cooking and eating in the industrial kitchen I then quickly made Galina's crepes and went upstairs to her private chamber.

Knocking twice, I entered to find Galina still busy with Semyon. She lay naked propped up on a mountain of pillows, Semyon's head between her legs pleasuring her. She had one hand idly playing with his hair, the other tweaking her breasts.

"Dimitri!" she chirped happily, seeing me enter the room with her meal. "What have you brought for me?" she cooed. "Keep going!" she ordered Semyon when he looked up for a moment, pushing his head back down into her crotch.

"I thought you might want a sweet treat this morning, so I've cooked you crepes with marinated cherries, dark chocolate sauce, and cream."

"Hmm. Good enough to eat," she moaned. "Just like you! Come feed me," she instructed, taking her hand away from her breasts to pat the bed beside her.

I put the tray on her bedside, sitting beside her where she'd indicated. Lifting the plate from the tray, I loaded the spoon with a scoop, guiding it past her eager lips. She took the spoon into her mouth, closing her lips around it before fellating it suggestively.

"Hmm you're both such good boys," she moaned, twining her fingers in Semyon's hair as I served her a second scoop of her breakfast. "You both know exactly what I like!"

Scoop by scoop I fed Galina her treat. Once the final mouthful was gone, she dropped her hand to my lap, rubbing me through my jeans. I could honestly say I wasn't in the least aroused, but knowing I needed to be, I closed my eyes and imagined it was Rose's small hand rubbing me through the fabric. Right away my cock twitched, and I could feel the blood flowing to it, making me hard almost immediately. It had been so long since I'd been with my beautiful woman and I was aching for her.

"You like that don't you?" she asked, feeling my reaction.

Her voice threatened to kill the illusion, so I dipped two fingers into the remaining chocolate sauce on the plate, putting them in her mouth. She instantly started sucking on my digits as though it were my manhood, sliding her lips up and down past my knuckles down to the base, using her tongue to swirl around my thick fingers.

Her moans were getting more and more ecstatic. Letting my fingers fall from her lips she groaned, "I had no idea you were so huge!"

"Only a week until you get to feel me inside you," I promised, rubbing my hand on top of hers before lifting her hand off my dick. I picked up the tray and stood, exiting her chamber. As I turned to shut the double doors behind me, I saw Semyon climbing Galina's body, hoisting one of her legs over his shoulder as he sunk inside her. I'd give her another two or three hours before I came to talk to her about money. She was always happiest when she'd spent most of the night fucking.

The last two weeks had been the longest of my life. Telling Rose that the father of her child had been taken and by now was almost certainly dead, or Strigoi, was one of the most heartrending things I'd had to do in a career which had involved much loss, sadness, and heartache.

Closing my eyes, I could still see Rose's look of hope as she'd lurched into my office Friday two weeks ago, hoping to speak with her lover. That look turning from hope to desolation as Art delivered the worst news imaginable. The realization of all her worst fears.

I'd known Rose since she was four years old. I could still remember the day Janine dropped her off as though it were yesterday. Small for her age, Rose had been fearless and independent, even then. She'd stood holding my hand as her mother had crouched down saying her farewell. At the time, Janine's farewell had seemed oddly stilted and formal, but not being a mother myself I'd imagined she must have closed off her emotions so not to scare Rose. With the benefit of hindsight, I no longer thought that was the case. Even then, Janine had been a reluctant parent I now appreciated.

From the earliest days, Rose had been a handful. She had a temper and naughtiness to her, but she also had a good heart, an unerring sense of justice and was one of the most giving people I'd ever met. I'd seen her grow up with Vasilisa, their friendship forged in the first few days of kindergarten. Having spent more time in my office over the years than probably the rest of the Novices in her grade combined, I knew Rose better than probably anyone on campus, and it was no secret I considered myself if not a second mother to her then at the very least a particularly fond aunt. While I didn't dwell on my motivations too much, Rose had craved the love and affection of a mother, and in Rose, I found an outlet for my own thwarted motherly instincts.

Which is why seeing what was happening to Rose was so distressing. When we'd told Rose that Dimitri was gone, she was understandably bereft. However being familiar with loss and grieving, I'd expected her to tackle it in true Hathaway style – head on and with a vengeance. What I had seen was much more concerning; Rose withdrawing to the extent that she barely said a word to anyone. It was as though all joy had been sucked from her world – and as time went on, she was getting worse not better.

I'd had several teachers in here to talk to me about her this week. While a teacher visiting me to discuss Rose's behavior was far from an unfamiliar occurrence, it was what they were saying that worried me.

"It's like she's slipping away in front of me," Stan had said. "I never thought I'd say this, Alberta, but I actually wish for the old Rose back."

I'd spoken with Deirdre, and while their sessions were confidential, she was able to tell me that she'd been unable to find anywhere suitable for Rose in the Moroi or human worlds. Any job she found that enabled Rose to support herself wasn't flexible enough to allow her to also take care of a baby, and the only places she'd be able to afford to live just weren't suitable to house a newborn. All the Moroi hospitals would be too expensive for Rose to deliver at, yet no human hospital would touch her without a social security number.

I was seriously considering asking Ellen to employ her here for a year after graduation. Now I was in my fifties, more and more of my job was office-based, so I could take care of the baby while Rose worked in the Moroi laundry service or the kitchens. As an employee, she would be entitled to be accommodated on campus and could deliver her baby at the infirmary with Dr. Olednzki. It would be difficult to convince Ellen to keep her on as she'd always detested Rose and everyone's talk about her big future, but she might do it just in order to humiliate her. But one thing I was sure of – at this stage Rose couldn't afford to be proud.

Which led me back full circle; the faded file sitting in my hand. Rose had been here so long I'd had to haul it out of a compactus in the archive room. I thought I knew what it contained, but I wanted to check it to be sure. Looking at my handwriting, miraculously unchanged in nearly a decade and a half, I could see where I had scribed the answers at Rose's intake interview.

Name: Rosemarie Hathaway

Birthday: 25 March

Mother: Guardian Janine Hathaway

Father: Mr. Ibrahim Mazur

We had discussed Rose's parental situation at the time. A necessity given the myriad of different arrangements and relationships between Moroi and Dhampir parents and their progeny. Janine had mentioned Mr. Mazur was in no way involved in Rose's upbringing; that he was almost certainly unaware she existed. Looking to the last entry in that section of the form, I could see my neat handwriting.

In the case of emergency: Contact mother, Guardian Janine Hathaway. If Guardian Hathaway is not able to exercise her parental duties, contact Mr. Ibrahim Mazur.

It came down to semantics. Rose and Janine had independently told me that Janine had disowned Rose and planned to have no further involvement in her life. Given Rose was technically still a fortnight off being eighteen, I was within my rights to contact her father if I felt there was a situation which warranted it.

I'd heard the rumors about Zmey. Rich, but with dirty money, he might have a string of illegitimate children for all I knew, and the last thing I wanted to do was make Rose's already perilous situation any worse than it already was. But knowing she'd already had one parent reject her, I hoped her other might be willing to offer some sort of help.

With a deep breath and a quick prayer, I picked up my phone, fingers dialing the cell number some discrete inquiries had provided. The phone rang several times before it was answered.

"Pavel."

"Guardian Pavel," I said putting on my formal Guardian voice. "This is Guardian Alberta Petrov from St. Vladimir's Academy in Montana. I need to speak with your charge Mr. Mazur about a private matter involving a mutual associate Guardian Janine Hathaway."

"Hold the line," he said in a completely expressionless voice. A minute or two later a new voice came on the line, and despite the thousands of miles between us, I immediately recognized the tone of a man used to commanding respect and immediate obedience.

"Abe Mazur," he greeted. "So you want to talk to me about Janine Hathaway? I haven't thought of her in twenty years!" he said, but I could tell that nonetheless his interest was piqued.