AN: The first chapter was also updated on 10/27, but I don't think a notification went out. If you're seeing this first, go back one.

Chapter 2

I take the steps up to the surface two at a time, ignoring the looks I'm getting for disgracing my dress.

Adrian brought the dress and mask to my room as a surprise, insisting that I go to the masquerade and take my mind off of 'things' - to distract me from the fact that the royal council announced the decision to execute Dimitri.

I told Adrian I wanted to stay in, but he said if I stayed in I would just dwell on the inevitable. Well, now I'm here in an expensive dress… dwelling on the inevitable.

When Adrian started dancing with a moroi he knows from his academy, I took the chance to get fresh air.

I down the rest of my bubbly drink and place the glass flute on the top step. Stepping out from the door at the top of the stairwell, warm night air hits me.

I lean on a nearby pillar and take deep breaths. The headache has only gotten worse, it's been two days now. There's a constant pressure behind my eyes and today I woke up with a nausea that made every food seem unappealing. I'm not sure I'll be able to keep the champagne down either.

I haven't had a chance to see him, not even through Lissa's eyes. After the issue with the alarms going off, she wasn't allowed down to the cells.

I don't know how I can stop this execution from happening.

I contemplate my options for the evening. All I want to do is sleep and wait for the physical effects of spirit darkness to pass, but if I keep thinking about tomorrow I might come up with an escape plan for Dimitri. I don't want to go back inside, but I should at least tell Adrian I'm leaving. I push off the pillar and head back to the door just as it swings open as a tall man exits.

"Hello you." Ambrose nudges his mask to sit on his forehead with his wrist, both of his hands are occupied with champagne flutes.

"Long time, no see."

He strides toward me with an easy smile on his face. The dhampir is striking as always, with his dark curls and tan skin. He wears a fitted cream white suit with red embroidered accents - he has a bull's mask to match. He extends one of the flutes to me and I take the drink from him.

"You do not look like one with the party," he comments.

I straighten and smooth down the front of my dress. "I thought I was the only dhampir breaking the rules by being here."

He grins. "If there's a rule to be broken, I'm there. This isn't the rager you were probably hoping for."

I scoff. A lot of things would be better than this masquerade, a rager just being one of them. "They could at least play music from this century," I reply.

He tips his glass forward to clink it with mine. He downs his drink in one take. The champagne goes down easy enough but I take small sips. "Did the queen bring you?"

He shrugs. His empty glass rests upside down where he holds it at his side. "Unofficially. That's a lovely dress."

I dip my chin to my shoulder like I'm being coy and bat my lashes at him. "It was a gift."

"Someone could be forgiven for thinking you were the queen of this ball."

"You flirt." The words are playful but my voice has no life in it.

He shakes his head. "I rarely do, I simply speak my mind. It's too bad you'd rather be somewhere else, or I'd ask you to dance."

I take a larger sip this time. "Don't do that tarot-mind-reading thing tonight, please."

He laughs. "It's just a basic observation. I was watching you inside."

I sigh. "Because of the dress."

"I was specifically looking for you."

"Well, you got me, but I can't stay." I push off the pillar with my shoulder and inch toward the walking path. I changed my mind about going back downstairs, in case I run into someone else. Adrian will understand why I left.

He gives me a tight smile. "Rose, you're going to want to come with me."

I suck on my teeth. The glasses of champagne left a filmy coat over my teeth. "I'm going back to my room. I can't be around people right now."

His flint eyes lose their playful spark. "Ibrahim Mazur offered to take Belikov off the queen's hands and she agreed. Belikov is leaving court tonight, but I can get you into the cells to say goodbye."

He tosses his glass aside and walks ahead of me on the path away from the masquerade's hidden door. He shoots me a look over his shoulder. "Are you coming?"

I stumble trying to catch up to him and right myself. Ambrose is making a quick pace and my heels are slowing me down.

"Hold on," I say and grab his shoulder for support while I slip the straps of my heels off one at a time. I hook the straps on my fingers and we start off again.

"When did this happen?"

"Now. At the masquerade."

"I didn't know Abe was there." I didn't even know he was at court. I don't know why Abe would get involved, but it doesn't matter, this is Dimitri's only chance now.

"Is he taking him to Turkey?"

"Yes."

Ambrose leads me to the corridor with the cells, where a guardian is waiting for us. He has curly blond hair that's clipped at his earlobe. He looks me up and down, and starts speaking to Ambrose in another language. I use the opportunity to put my heels back on because I feel underdressed without them.

The guardian opens the door for us. "Let's go," Ambrose says and gestures for me to go first.

Our footsteps echo on the stairs. The cells have bright, fluorescent lights that are an assault on dhampir eyes.

Ambrose and I walk down the corridor until we reach the only occupied cell.

"Dimitri." My voice is hesitant, which I hate, and he tenses. I'm not unsure of seeing him, only what to say to him.

"Dimitri," I call out again, like I'm carefully approaching a spooked animal. The cell bars and mildew smell don't help with the impression. His back is to me, every muscle tense. He's slouched over on the floor with his arms draped over his knees.

I didn't have time to plan what to say to him. I wipe my palms on the emerald dress.

"You shouldn't be here," he says. His voice is rough from not being used enough.

"And you should?" I shoot back reflexively. I don't want to fight with him, but that's what usually happens with us. "Look at this place. This is a cage. You should be in a hospital, or-"

"I'm right where I need to be."

I take in the cell. Dimitri's bed is definitely shorter than him, and seems just as wide. The toilet in the corner is in full view of the hallway, leaving him no privacy or decency. The walls are painted white but it's chipped in places revealing the cold stone beneath. My fingers brush against paint chips on the rusting cell bars. Dark specks of mold grew in the corners. Moisture condensed on the ceiling - there were even long spoke-like formations that grow underground - I don't know what they're called.

Worst of all, he's still wearing the clothes from the other night, except for the duster, which the guards must have taken away. The back of his shirt has burn holes from Christian's fire defense at the warehouse.

He won't be here much longer. The thought brings me limited comfort given his reaction to me now. I knew better than to expect a tearful reunion filled with a big embrace, but I was hoping he would at least be happy to see me despite what he'd told Lissa.

"Would you just look at me?" Please.

He rises and turns to me slowly, his jaw tensed like he's fighting an internal battle. Metal clinks as he moves from a pair of handcuffs keeping his wrists close together.

His eyes widen briefly when they lock on me, but he quickly returns to stoicism.

"I came to see you before you leave."

Stubble marks his jawline and his eyes have dark shadows. It had only been a couple of days but the hours have not been kind to him. Still, my mouth is dry at the sight of him. His eyes are the deepest shade of browns, no trace of red in them. He has color in his cheeks again and I knew if he would just step closer that his skin would be warm.

"Before I leave?"

Ambrose clears his throat. "You're being transferred to a moroi household tonight, where you will be a far guard."

Dimitri looks at Ambrose for the first time, and the look he gives him is skeptical. With the emerald silk dress and embroidered cream suit, neither of us look like guardians.

"Who are you?" Dimitri asks.

Ambrose's throat bobs.

I wish we didn't have an audience, and I want him to know that. "This is Ambrose, he got me in here to see you."

"And he told you that I would be leaving court?"

"He's close friend's with the queen, and it was Abe Mazur who vouched for you. You're going to be his guardian."

A muscle in his jaw tics. "Rose," he says carefully, "the only way I'm leaving this cell is to walk to my execution."

"Don't say that!"

Dimitri turns away from me again. This isn't how I wanted it to go. I look at Ambrose. "Can you give us a minute?" I ask.

He strides back down the hall. I wait until I hear him strike up a conversation with the guard at the door. Dimitri has his head turned to the side now. I settle for small steps.

Then it hits me that I don't know when I'll see him again. It couldn't be too long, Abe is my dad after all.

"I don't want to argue. I just came to say goodbye. And… to wish you luck." My words are pathetic compared to everything I want to say, but it's not the time or place. "Because you are getting out of here, and you're not going to die. Abe won't hurt you, or he knows I'll come after him."

Dimitri doesn't smile at my half-joke. Seeing him now I realize it will be too much to hope for asking him to stay in contact. He needs more time, something neither of us had together.

"Look, I know it's hard to believe but Abe will do what he can to help you."

"How do you know that?"

"Because he's my father."

Shock flickers on his face, the first real emotion I've seen in him. "You don't trust Abe, but you will if you get to know him. Do you trust me?"

He nods.

"Then you have to believe that this is your only chance, you have to go with him tonight."

He considers with his eyes closed. He takes steadying breaths but the tension never leaves his jaw.

"This is what you want?" he asks.

"Yes."

I want to be patient, but when Ambrose coughs it sounds like a warning for the limited time we have.

"Dimitri." He stands straighter and assesses me again, eyes taking me in slowly.

"You look healthy," he says softly. I glance down at my dress, the mask with its ribbons wrapped around my wrist. I'm dressed for the Met over here and he goes for healthy? I have to laugh.

"I mean it," he adds more firmly. "You look better now." As opposed to the pale, bruised and bloodied mess I was in Novosibirsk. I know he wants to play the guilt game and I won't participate.

"So do you," I shoot back, lifting my chin. It's somewhat true. He's ragged right now, but unkempt is better than seeing those red rings around his eyes. He snorts. "I've seen some of the pictures the guardians took. I look dead."

"You're not anymore."

A choked laugh escapes him. "The jury's still out on that."

"No. I can see it, I know it worked. I know it's really you." My voice begins to quiver so I don't say more. I extend my arm out. Dimitri looks at it like it will burn him, but he reluctantly steps toward me and clasps my hand between both of his.

His skin is warm. His hands are rough with callouses like I remember but his grasp is gentle. He takes another step closer and brings my hand to the side of his face, closing his eyes. The handcuff's cool metal hits my wrist. I brush my thumb along his stubbled cheek and he relaxes into my palm.

"There aren't enough words to explain how sorry I am."

"Don't do that. That wasn't you."

"Shh. Please, let me say this. You deserved so much more. You tried to free my soul and I did unspeakable things to you." A tear lands on my thumb and rolls down the crevice between my hand and his cheek. "I'm not asking for forgiveness because I don't deserve it, but if I could take it back I would. I'd do anything to go back in time and stop it."

I pull him to me gently and he obliges, closing the distance. The gap in the bars is just large enough for our foreheads to touch. My other hand grips his shirt. "There's nothing to forgive. I'll come to Turkey to see you, and when things calm down here, you'll be able to come back to court, you could be anyone's guardian."

He pulls away from me. "When I leave here tonight you need to forget about me. I won't be coming back."

"You don't know that."

"I'll never be welcome here. You have a life here and I will never be a part of it."

I want to argue more but two pairs of feet approach the cell and stand behind me. I'm not ready to let go, but Dimitri drops my hand anyway. I wipe the moisture off my cheeks with the back of my hands.

"You can walk with us to the plane," Ambrose says gently as the other guard unlocks the cell door and slides it open. Dimitri doesn't take his eyes off of me. The blond guardian unlocks the handcuffs and they fall to the floor.

The blond guardian jerks his chin to the side and Dimitri takes his cue, following Ambrose to the stairs. I reach for his hand and he lets me take it.

"Where are the other guards?" Dimitri asks.

"Not necessary," the blond one quips. "You're about to be a guardian yourself."

Dimitri presses his lips into a thin line. While I agreed that Dimitri didn't need an entourage of guardians, he was right. Croft wouldn't allow him to go anywhere without a dozen of court's finest.

Which is strange, considering only one guardian was posted outside the corridor. "What about the guards posted at the palace?" I ask.

"Working the masquerade," Ambrose says.

We walk to the airstrip. Court is quiet, and for a moment it's like vampires sleep at night for how little activity there is. No one is walking around, no one sees us going to the plane.

With every step my unease grows. Dimitri is tense, too. Our instincts tell us not to trust these men, but if they've been given an order from the queen on Abe's behalf, we have nothing to worry about.

A jet is waiting on the airstrip already, the engine roaring.

The blonde one grabs Dimitri's elbow so I place myself in front of him. "Where's the old man?" I have to shout over the noise of the engine.

"He's not here."

I shake my head. "Ambrose said he was at the masquerade. I want to see him."

He hesitates. I shoot a glare between him and Ambrose. "Is he here or not? Tell him I want to see him."

The blond one nods and goes on the jet. A moment later, my father steps out, smoothing down a black suit. My shoulders relax. I turn to Dimitri and grin.

"See? Everything's fine!" I say, more for myself. Dimitri doesn't look convinced. "Trust me, trust Abe."

Dimitri nods and I give his hand a reassuring squeeze before walking up to the jet and Abe takes the steps down to pull me into a hug, I have to drop Dimitri's hand. "I'm sorry I didn't leave more time in my schedule to see you, but I promise to come back soon," Abe says reassuringly.

I hug him harder and say, "Thank you." For coming to Dimitri's rescue, for giving him the chance he needs to be a dhampir again.

He steps back and looks Dimitri up and down. "There's a shower on the plane, I suggest you get acquainted. It's a long flight."

I tell him, "I need updates."

"I'll call you," he promises. "We have to go now." He kisses me on the cheek and takes the steps back up to the cabin.

I look at Dimitri, who's looking at me like he wants to say a lot. He opens his mouth and closes it. He sighs and says, "Take care of yourself, Roza."

He turns and walks up to the plane.

"Dimitri, wait!"

He doesn't turn around.

"Dimitri!"

He boards the plane, only sparing a glance back at me.

You'd think I would be used to losing him at this point, that I would be prepared for the blow when it lands, but I'm not. I never am.

I can't believe Dimitri Belikov is breaking my heart again.