Abe managed to sort out the details of Rose's capture in lightning speed, arranging for a few guardians to meet on a facility just outside Novosibirsk. There was a steampunk quality to the place he chose, the analogic technology showing a little bit of abandon. I had no idea how he managed to find this place on such short notice, but I didn't think I wanted to know, since it was obviously built for a similar purpose as the one we were using it for: holding a Strigoi captive.
As I faced the small room Rose was supposed to be held in, something stirred inside of me. It was a simple prison cell, not as comfortable as the one which Victor was imprisoned back at Court. The bars were made of silver, undoubtedly infused by Moroi magic. The whole facility was small and easily defendable.
Yesterday, I had met the other ten dhampirs that would help me to bring her back. There were two promised guardians and eight unpromised ones – those were hired by Moroi like Zmey, rich yet not Royal – and some of them I knew from St Basil's, like Marina Borisovna Ishchenko, a petite blond two years older than me, the only female to graduate in her year.
I didn't know if Abe was paying them or if they owed him favors. They didn't seem to mind the crazy mission or to find it weird. I guess if you knew Zmey for long, you learned not to ask questions and just roll with it.
I heard his footsteps behind me, not bothering to turn around as he stopped by my side.
"I still wasn't able to contact Robert Doru," he told me after a while, and I finally looked at his face. He, too, was looking at the cell, his expression wistful but not at all defeated.
"Dashkov answered my request by telling me that the information would die with him," he continued. "A charming fellow. Tell me again, why didn't you kill him when you had the chance?"
I snorted. "I actually have no idea."
He laughed. "He will crack. Between you and me and our contacts in the underworld, we will manage to get something out of him before he wastes away like he deserves."
I stayed in silence, contemplating Abe's words. Like I told Rose before the trial, I knew plenty of people who could handle Victor in prison and make it seem like an accident. Killing him was a desperate measure that would take us nowhere, though, and he was smart enough to figure out that if we wanted the information badly there was no way we could do it.
"The only thing we can offer Victor is freedom," I said, after some consideration. "He made his peace with dying a long time ago, but he still wants to stage a revolution in the Moroi world. The only way he can do this is by getting out of prison."
Abe smiled mysteriously at that. "I like your insight on our enemy's M.O., Belikov."
I shrugged. "I hope it gets us somewhere."
"Oh, it will," his tone was wicked, his shit-eating grin making me nervous.
On the first day of the mission, we were able to find and kill three Strigoi. We let the fourth go with a message to Rose.
It went against everything I was raised to believe, and I could see that the others weren't comfortable with my choice.
I was letting a killer go, and it was all for nothing because something inside me told me that she already knew I was here.
Five days into the mission, Strigoi started making themselves scarce. Things were getting strangely calm, as if they could predict our movements somehow.
The streetlights made it hard to see the stars and the club's obnoxious music make my heart thump as if it was chained to the rhythm.
After two nights of this elusiveness I was unable to sleep, paranoia finding its way through my every thought and dream.
There was something almost ritualistic about the way the bodies moved on the dance floor. The music was loud but pleasant in a weird way; it created a spooky atmosphere, making every conversation seem like a whispered confession. A pleasant masculine voice sang about the death of a disco dancer, the cry of the guitar making the words sound like an ominous prediction.
Considering the reason why I was here, that didn't seem too far of the mark.
This was a human club in the heart of Novosibirsk. It was famous on the underground scene, and most Russian indie bands had either started here or made a point of playing at least one gig on its legendary stage. There were plenty of drugs being consumed and apparently Strigoi found the idea of an easy meal too appealing to be careful: there were five disappearances reported two weeks before we came into town, and this was the place where all victims were seen last.
This wasn't the first time we came here to investigate on the last few days. I could see why the club was so alluring. It was dark inside, and for the sake of keeping a cool aesthetic, there wasn't much light outside either. It would be hell to defend, too: there were multiple exits and people left the dance floor all the time despite the heavy rain outside, making it harder to keep track.
One of the unpromised dhampirs in our group had described the party-goers as apathetic teenagers with a death wish. I understood the reason behind the stereotype, even if I didn't agree with it that much. I only saw young people making questionable life choices.
There were five of us here tonight, including Anton, one of Abe's personal guardians. I exchanged glances with Marina over the crowd, trying to be inconspicuous about it. A curt shake of her head told me that she hadn't seen anything suspicious so far. I did the same with every other person in our group, keeping my guard up as they, too, denied noticing anything out of the ordinary.
As the minutes passed I got more and more tense, waiting for something to happen. The club was starting to smell like sweat and spilled alcohol, the dancing getting more frenetic as the endorphins kicked in. It wasn't the usual grinding of bodies you would find in most nightclubs, but a ceremonial shake of limbs that seemed driven by some kind of mania. The lights played tricks to the eyes and the air was charged with raw energy, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Everyone seemed trapped in their own worlds, not noticing me even if I was standing tall, too still and too quiet, not really making an effort to blend in. Here, there seemed to be no such a thing as a weird behavior. This place made me anxious in a way I had never experienced before; it was like being trapped in one of Adrian's Spirit induced dreams, only without the reassurance of being able to wake up.
Needing to move to stop myself from going crazy, I left my position near the bar to walk around. I could feel as people bumped into me without as much as an apology, the sticky floor making it hard to raise my feet. I was about to call it a night and head to another club when I saw the nearest door opening, a girl heading out to the rain, her back to me, her dress and her hair swirling with the wind―
Her hair.
Gesturing for the others to follow me, I headed outside as quickly as I could, my head spinning, my stomach clenched. The rain had picked up since our arrival, making it hard to see. I was soaked seconds after stepping out of the club, but couldn't care less about my drenched state. The door had led to a deserted alley and I cursed internally.
I would have recognized that hair anywhere.
She had left alone, and I didn't try to figure out why. The reason didn't matter. I could hear the others behind me even if they were trying to move quietly, thanks to the puddles on the sidewalk. I couldn't blame them; a group of dhampirs this large could hardly go unnoticed by Strigoi, even if we were being stealthy.
I heard a weird noise then, and by everyone's stance, they did too. We stopped, moving coordinately and tried to figure where it had come from. I don't know what hinted me to look up, catching a glimpse of the monster's red-ringed eyes just before he jumped on us.
The seconds of advantage were the difference between life and death as more Strigoi came. I could count six, closing on us from every direction. None of them was Rose. The rain didn't help with the visibility, the ground was slippery, and their superior senses made this the perfect fighting scenario for them.
Without hesitation, I engaged in battle with one that jumped out of the roof. He was young and had been a Moroi, so I had a better grasp of my own strength than he did. I finished him as quickly as I could, moving to take a large male off of Marina's back.
The way the Strigoi were moving around me hinted that something was off. They were eagerly battling my teammates, but paid no attention to me if I didn't cross their immediate paths. Were they following orders? If so, was Rose close by?
She had outsmarted us. She had outsmarted me. But this wasn't over, and even though I knew the others were struggling to keep their ground, I had to find her. I locked my gaze with Anton and he nodded; they would be okay and we had our orders.
Knowing that I was probably walking into another trap, I ran to the entrance of the alley. My hair was glued to my face. Thanking the heavens for the adrenaline rush that prevented me from a strike of hypothermia, I ran in the opposite direction from the people gathered at the entrance of the club, making a wild guess that she would want some privacy.
She wanted me to find her. The other Strigoi were just distractions, means to separate me from the rest of the group. Was she afraid of her chances if I didn't meet her alone? Was she afraid of me?
Somehow, I doubted it.
Heading south, I turned around corner after corner, looking for deserted streets. Even if it was late and the rain had just started to shift into a drizzle, the city was buzzing with life; the weekend had just started. I don't know for how long I ran. As soon as I was alone, I tried contacting the others through my earpiece, just to find out that the rain had made it useless. Taking it off and cursing silently, I started paying better attention to my surroundings.
It was like being trapped inside a noir movie. I was in the less prestigious part of town. The streetlamps were few and far between, the houses looked old. I could smell smoke and hear faint sounds coming from behind the doors. I had no idea where to go from here, or how to go back to where I was, for that matter. Wander around was my best option.
The streets converged into a square. I had just started exploring it, thinking of what to do next, when I saw her.
I stopped walking, unable to do anything but stare. She was sitting on the footsteps of a church, as if mocking God or challenging him to turn her into a pile of ashes. That was so typical of Rose it stirred something inside me, something I couldn't name. I guess there was a technicality to the 'sacred ground' thing and only the insides of a temple counted.
Her eyes were closed and there was a faint smile on her lips. Her dress was clinging to her frame: it was white, made of lace patterns and another kind of fabric I couldn't name. Under the hum of the streetlights she seemed untouchable, like we weren't even in the same plane of existence, and I almost pinched myself to see if I was awake.
Almost every trait that singled her out as a Strigoi was hidden from me. There wasn't much she could do about the paleness of her skin, but it was enough to make my chest hurt. It was easy to contemplate all the what-ifs when I couldn't see her fangs.
It was then that I realized I could never have killed her. Not when she looked so much like―
I took a step further and she opened her eyes; I always felt like she could read my mind, and that seemed to be the proof. What I saw there was enough to sober me a little. There wasn't warmth. Her every action seemed calculated. She had known how to play me all along, and I was the one fooling myself, as usual.
When she stood up, quicker than I thought possible, I prepared myself for an attack that never came. Her head was cocked to the side, her smile growing with every step she took in my direction, still not showing her teeth. Her hips swayed in a hypnotic way, every gracious movement seeming effortless, just like it was when she was alive.
Soon she was close enough for me to try an attack, but as I made my first move her voice echoed like a siren's song, and I had no choice but to shipwreck, descending to the depths of her ocean, bare like the day I was born, nothing to cling to, nothing to lose because everything was already lost beyond the point of no return.
"Drop the stake, Dimitri." It was compulsion like I had never seen before. There was no fighting, I could only bend to her will and let her make me her puppet.
I heard the metallic thud of the silver meeting the pavement. Her eyes were the only thing I could see.
"Sleep, Comrade," she ordered and I drifted, my body giving in to gravity.
A.N.: Hey there!
First, I would like to apologize for the delay AND the cliffhanger. I hope it was worth the reading, though :P
Unfortunately, I can't promise a quick update. I've been knocked off my feet by college and depression, and things are still a bit weird. Sooner rather than later, though, you guys will get to see my take on Strigoi!Rose.
I'm humbled by the amount of people who saved some time to read my story. You guys are awesome! Let me know what you think of the chapter. It was my favorite so far because I got to see an improvement on my writing :)
There are three songs to this chapter, the first being Climbing up the Walls, by Radiohead. I love how it describes paranoia in a frightening way and it gives me chills every time. The second is Death of a Disco Dancer, by The Smiths, and the third is Seven Devils, by Florence + the Machine.