RPOV
"Victor you can't be serious."
"Unfortunately, I always am these days."
"But I hold no weight in politics! Some of the Royals I have not seen in years, why would they listen to me?"
"Your name holds itself in its own right. I am not asking for to do much more than nod your head when I speak, you can teach a Psi Hound to do as much."
A loud clinking noise makes me look away from the back of Dimitri's ribbed shirt. The mistress is back over at the cabinet and she has chosen a bigger wine glass. She's been silent ever since Mr Dashkov declared his terms, letting the Master do all the talking. She passes the blonde guardian, who could chew on his own smirk, without looking at him or his charge and hands a tumbler of amber liquid to her husband. The difference in the sizes of their glasses looks ridiculous.
"You want a puppet in your corner." Master Ozera smiles but it's without mirth. He takes a huge drink.
"Puppet, ally, I don't care for labels just cooperation. Do I have yours?"
"You have not left us much of a choice. Agree or be terrorized and disgrace my own sister. I never imagined you to be so cold, politics has changed you."
"She deserves disgrace." Mistress Ozera says and at a noise of protest she persists in her empty tone. "She has betrayed us Lucas. Her own family and she is stupid enough to believe she has done so in everyone's best interests. Not even realising she is a tool to someone else's cause. The senseless twit, I told you not to tell her anything-"
"She is my sister." He says quietly, no affection or indication of any sort of feeling.
"And I've always pitied the fact." She snaps. "Let her be disgraced and humiliated, she is the one that has to live with it. I do not care."
"And what of Christian?" Mr. Dashkov asks mildly.
"You will stay away from him."
"I cannot in good conscious do that when God knows what horror you plan to bring on the boy."
"Don't make the mistake of underestimating the lengths we will go to for him" Master Ozera growls and I wish I could detach myself from the room, disappear into myself or be told to leave. The room felt like it was winding tighter until there would be a break.
"I don't. I'm relying on it. Moira dear, I ought to tell you that you're pressing that distress button in vain. Your Guardians are not coming."
"And if any do they will be easily dispatched." The blonde Guardian says and Mr Dashkov gives him a side long glance that clearly demands silence. The Guardian doesn't seem to pay it any attention.
"How long have you been planning this exactly?" Master Ozera demands as he pulls himself out of his chair.
Dimitri's body seems to have become even more rigid and somehow the blond Guardian has moved to stand beside Mr Dashkov instead of behind.
"A day or so." Mr. Dashkov says still appearing calm.
"Where are they?" Mistress Ozera demands. "What the hell have you done with them?"
"I haven't done anything to them. Lucas met me at the door and I have been with you ever since. Dimitri however has been here a lot longer than you're aware of. I think you'll find that fault lies with your own Guardians. Rather worrying considering their number isn't it?"
"Quarter of St. Vladimir's guard." The other Guardian behind Mr. Dashkov speaks for the first time.
"You have killed twenty-seven of our Guardians?" Mistress Ozera sounds as if she's holding herself back from screaming. I count twenty rib linings across Dimitri's back.
"Incapacitated fifteen and distracted seven to nine with your Psi Hounds." Dimitri corrects. "The others are unaccounted for."
"One is unconscious in a storage cupboard or so Ben tells me." The blonde Guardian grins turning to his colleague, who remains impassive. "He had an eventful trip to the bathroom."
"You've rendered us defenceless!" Mistress Ozera shrieks and I jump closer to Dimitri's back, so much so that I can feel the warmth of his body and the faint smell of washing powder and something citrusy. I sway thinking of the freshly washed sheets my mother would take off the line, warm from the sun and smelling so clean I just want to bury my face in them and sleep.
"That's rather dramatic and in light of everything I think we have actually done you a favour." Mr. Dashkov's voice floats around my head and I blink my eyes open.
"You're a fool!" Mr. Ozera yells. "You're clinging to the old ways by the tips of your fingers. The old ways are gone and soon everything we know will be gone too. The wise thing would be to get ahead, to place ourselves in positions with real power. You don't know the things we do Victor, what we have learned…"
"A cause is not lost as long as there is someone willing to fight for it." Mr Dashkov says firmly. "And no matter how bad things get I will never go begging our enemies. You think they'll spare you? They will use you until you no longer useful and that includes being a blood supply. How do you possibly see this ending well for you? You think they will annihilate the rest of us and leave your family standing as the last Moroi Royals? No, because you will be a threat and a useless commodity of what they are trying to achieve, control. Control over the major cities for blood sources and then they will fight among each other until everything is in ashes. If we want a future our children can survive in we have to fight for it."
"And what will you do to us when our uses run out?" Mistress Ozera asks over her wine glass.
Mr. Dashkov looks offended. "Do to you? Why nothing. You're free to live your lives and in due course, you will see that tonight was your saving grace."
"Free?" Master Ozera snarls.
The mistress shakes her head and takes another gulp.
"When you've seen sense freedom will follow. You are too isolated out here, like you said you have not spoken to some of the royals for years. Things are not as dire and hopeless as you believe, which you will learn at Court Lucas."
"And how often will these meetings be?" Master Ozera asks quietly, anger still strong in his voice.
"I will call and you will come." Mr. Dashkov answers simply. "You may be gone for weeks, feel free to stay behind Moira…someone must look after your home. Unless you decide to move permanently that is. You still have a townhouse in New York, yes?"
I expected to see cracks in the glass she was clutching or for it to explode in shards.
"Now, forgive me but I simply can't take your word you'll do as I ask, I will be taking precautions. In theory, what is to stop you from contacting more Strigoi or reporting to them the goings-on at court, helping them coordinate their attacks. No, no, I can't risk it you understand. Your phones will be tapped, you will be watched and I'll be taking the witness with me."
In unison, the party's heads turn toward Dimitri their eyes falling past his arm to where I hid behind him. I felt the Masters and Mistress gaze press down upon me and it was becoming too much to bear. I shrink closer to him, almost aligned with his body, more afraid of their stares than what he'd think or do about the proximity.
"Maybe there is something good to come of this then" Mistress Ozera sneers, her voice sliding under my skin like a splinter.
"She needs medical attention," Dimitri says clearly. "She has second-degree burns on her upper arm."
"How unfortunate."
"Shut up Moira." Master Ozera barks.
I cannot see anyone bar Mr. Dashkov and his guardians from my hiding place but I can guess that her lack of response means her expression is speaking louder.
"We will arrange for someone to meet us when the plane lands, you'll have to do your best for now." Mr. Dashkov tells Dimitri in his mild voice. Dimitri looks once over his shoulder and I drop my eyes the black material clinging to his back.
"What do you mean we will be watched?" Master Ozera demands.
Mr. Dashkov stands and his Guardians flank him. "I have contacts at the Guardian headquarters of this state, they have been notified that some of your employees have… well they need to be reassigned. Expect the head of their Guard and your new Guardians at dawn. Fifteen of yours will be sent where they are needed."
Master Ozera makes a spluttering sound. "Your reassigning… you think… who the hell do you think you are!"
"Someone with a flush." Mr. Dashkov says with a gentle smile. "Sorry, bad joke."
"You do not have the authority. You are bluffing." Mistress Ozera growls.
"I am not and this isn't about authority. It's about favours and who you know. You'll come to understand that at court Lucas. Now if you would be so kind to show us to your Guard's control room and let Ben do what he needs to. Dimitri, perhaps you should wait in the – step out of way and let me see her again."
Fear locks my bones in place as Dimitri moves aside and I am exposed.
"No, no that won't do." Mr. Dashkov says softly. "She needs to be cleaned up and some fresh clothes."
"Empty hopes." Mistress Ozera says and the lull was back in her voice, dragging her words out and curling them in strange ways. "She doesn't understand the concept of either. Dirty rat."
"Then you'll provide them." Mr. Dashkov fires back.
I glance up from the floor and see the Mistress was still reclined in her chair despite everyone else standing. At his words, her glass stilled at the edge of her lips and her eyes narrowed.
"I beg your pardon?"
"A shower and some garments you won't miss. I'm sure you have plenty."
She begins laughing and it made my mind reel, the room tilt. My head swims and a hand takes my left arm holding me steady. Blearily I look up at Dimitri who's frowning down at me like I've done something wrong.
"Sir." Dimitri says looking away and exchanging a brief look with his boss.
Mr. Dashkov turns back to the Mistress who has stopped laughing and was draining the last of her glass. Master Ozera was watching me with a troubled look on his face I immediately drop my eyes to the floor.
"Show them upstairs. It is not a request." Mr. Dashkov says and his voice is no longer mild.
"I will do no such thing. Take her for what she is. She is not touching any of my personal possessions!"
"Moira."
"No Lucas! I said no!"
Mr. Dashkov sighs heavily.
"I'll show them upstairs." A quiet voice says from behind us.
"Christian, go back to your room." Master Ozera snaps.
I look over my shoulder and in my blurry vision, I see the outline of what had to be the young master in the doorway. "I'll show you, come on."
"DON'T YOU DARE!" Mistress Ozera screams and my knees buckle under it. I fall against something warm and sturdy, a strong bind around my waist holding me to it.
"You are determined to make this more difficult." Mr. Dashkov yells from above or from far away.
"I will not have it touching my things, inside my room. I won't have it! Not when I know where you sneak off to!"
"Moira you are being ridiculous!" Master Ozera yells. "Christian this does not concern you. Go back to your room. I will show them upstairs."
"I have to live with it every day. Not knowing if that half-breed is your bastard and now you want to dress it up in my things!"
I blink trying to bring the room back. I had to be awake, I couldn't be unaware, anything could happen and I wouldn't know. That smell was back and it was much closer, warmth pressed up against my back and I almost choke. Dimitri was holding me to him.
I try to put my weight back onto my feet but I couldn't find them.
"I have heard everything!" Someone yells, clicking the room into focus. The young Master is standing close and his face is flushed with anger.
"Things you do not understand boy!" Master Ozera roars.
Mr. Dashkov had his hand folded in front of him and was murmuring to the dark-haired Guardian.
"I understand enough, finally I understand. I'm glad they're here, I'm glad Tasha called someone and told them about you. I'm lucky to have one sane member in this family. It makes me sick that you're my parents, it makes me sick that..." The young master drags in a breath, fists shaking at his sides.
"Christian." The Mistress whispers.
His head snaps in our direction and he looks above my head. His blue eyes pulsing with emotions I couldn't identify. "Come on."
He marches away to the door that is turning on its side.
"Can you walk?" A soft voice in my ear makes me flinch. At least I think I flinch.
I don't even try. "No."
"Don't be afraid." And the ground disappears. The room swings in an odd direction and I am floating, balanced between both his arms. The warmth and smell of washed cloth are around me.
I slip into the dark.
There is a softness pressed against me, under me but it's cool. There's no warmth, there's no smell and I can't find my way out of the dark.
"Rose I need you to wake up." My eyes crack open and I'm met with a level gaze looking down at me. "I need you to sit up and drink this."
"Dimitri?"
He nods impassively.
I look around and it does nothing to help the confusion. I was in the biggest room I'd ever seen. Far above me glittered a huge cluster of crystals that through light out around a room. A room coloured bright and darker golds, hints of rich blue here and there. My fingertips curl against the softness beneath me and I looked down to see I was lying on a very big cushion, or so the material and shape made it look. A bed. I was on a very big bed.
There was so much of it I wasn't even near the centre and Dimitri was sitting on my other side with enough space between us.
"You passed out. I need you to drink this."
This time there was impatience laced under his tone despite its calmness.
I try to sit up.
"May I?" he asks and I glance at the hand he's offering. I swallow and nod. Quickly his hand slips under my neck and before I can think about how it felt he was pulling me up into a sitting position. In his other hand was a tall glass filled with powdery coloured liquid. He holds it to my lips.
"What is it?" I croak.
"A stimulant. It will give you strength for a bowered time."
He tilts the glass and I drink. It tasted like old water and was thicker somehow. I drink half the glass before he takes it away and puts it on a table beside the bed. He lowers me back to the softness.
The fuzziness is clearing in my head. I no longer feel like the world wants to spin and throw me around like a rag caught in the washing machine. I open my eyes and find he's watching me.
"How do you feel?"
"Better."
He nods. "You can drink the rest after you have some food and water. You're too dehydrated."
His words brush over me as I look past him, absorbing the room and all its details. It felt so wrong to be in here, to be lying here… where they slept.
I try to sit up and his hands come down on my shoulders. "You need to rest for a minute."
"I don't want to rest."
He begins to reply when I lean on my right side and pain explodes through my arm. The room disappears and I grip the thick blankets under me, trying to anchor myself as the agony washes over.
"Just stay still. I can't give you anything for the pain without there being something in your stomach."
I concentrate on breathing. One of the downsides to my mind becoming clearer is I can acutely feel how irritated my wound is. A trickle of sweat runs over my temple. Dimitri doesn't say anything else and I don't know I this is a good or bad thing. I can't bring myself to open my eyes.
There's a shift beside me and I know he's getting up.
"Is this okay?" A new voice asks and my eyes snap open.
The young Master and Dimitri are standing near the door. The young Master's arms were laden with things and he glances past Dimitri to me and I close my eyes. Dimitri murmurs something to him and after a moment I hear someone leave. This is all too bizarre, this could not be real. My mind is the one that started spinning now instead of the rooms.
"Rose." He says quietly and I tense up.
How strange to hear my name. How strange I gave him the only thing I had.
Strange
Strange
Strange
"Rose, wake up." I open my eyes and everything is still. Dimitri is knelt by the bedside and in the place he'd been sitting is a plate with a sandwich, a banana, and yoghurt. I glance from the food to his expressionless face, the fear creeping up my back. "You need to eat something."
The thought made me feel ill. "I don't want to."
"You need to." He says forcefully, reminding me who is in charge. "It will help. Trust me."
I meet his eyes. He kept saying that, to trust him. Trust him how and with what? Trusting him would be done so blindly, stupidly...it went against all the rules.
He takes a deep breath, his eyes closing briefly and I knew he was fighting for control.
Guardian. You do as they say. You always do as they say. Stay out of trouble, keep your head down.
He exhales, opening his eyes and unscrewing the water bottle. "We don't have much time Rose. I need you to cooperate."
I nod because I have to.
"Good." He says quietly and helps me sit up again. He reaches behind me and props up the pillows. The smell of the warm washing envelope me again and I was startled to realize it was him. Of course, it was him. It wasn't just washing, he smelt slightly citrusy but more… manlier. He's so close to me and it isn't because I've done something wrong.
I remember how I haven't washed for days, how oily my hair is and how my scalp feels itchy and bruised in places. I know I smell terrible.
He leans away and I'm relieved of the pressure around my chest. I needed to pull it together.
"Drink." He says handing me the bottle. I expect my arms to fail me but they don't, they feel too light and I guessed that it was the stimulant starting to work. I take three huge gulps hoping it satisfies him but he remains expressionless. I screw the cap on and wordlessly he holds out the yoghurt. "This should be easier."
I hesitate and then take it and the spoon he's holding out. I'm too aware of his eyes as I clumsily pull off the foil lid. This was for me, just for me. I dip the metal tip of the spoon into the berry-coloured cream and scoop it out. I glance up at him before putting it into my mouth. The smoothness of it slides against my tongue, a bursting bliss of sweet raspberries.
On the bed, Dimitri's clenched hand relaxes.
The silence becomes more pressure I can't handle. "Where are you from?"
I hold my breath and stare down at the yoghurt.
"Russia. A very small town in Russia."
"Russia." I murmur, taking another spoonful. I liked how the 's's rolled off my tongue like a whisper.
My mother had told me she grew up in Scotland and sometimes, mostly when she was angry, her voice would slant on different words. It was like glimpsing a piece of the place she had come from, the past she didn't want to share. I wondered how far away Scotland was. I knew it was not in America, nor was Russia… I had memorized our states.
"Do you miss it?"
There's a pause in which I glance up, worried I'd said too much.
He was looking at me oddly. "Sometimes."
I wonder what that was like, having somewhere to miss.
His brown eyes were watching me intently like I was something he was trying to read. I drop my gaze back to the yoghurt.
"Is long hair a Russia…thing? Do many men have longer hair?" I wish I hadn't spoken. The words had tumbled out of my mouth and lashed back at me to make my cheeks flood with heat.
"No." He says and something in his voice makes me look up. He's watching me oddly again but it's not an unpleasant look.
"Uh, Dimitri."
I freeze, a spoonful hovering in the air. Dimitri turns to the Young Master in the doorway and behind him is my mother. She looks so small and ragged next to him and smaller again in this golden room.
She is also glaring at me.
Dimitri stands. "Hello, you must be Rose's mother. My name is Dimitri Belikov."
My mother looks away from me to Dimitri and again I'm struck by how small she is in comparison. Even I felt dwarfed on the bed.
The hardness doesn't leave my mother's eyes and she swallows. "Yes, I am."
"There is no way to put this other than simply." Dimitri says gently. "But Rose will be leaving tonight with my charge, Victor Dashkov. She needs to be washed and changed within the next twenty minutes or so."
His words don't seem real and again, I can identify the Young Masters's expression. He looks lost, maybe even...upset but that baffles me further.
"Leaving?" My mother repeats, the hardness waning.
"Yes. She is a witness to Victor's business and for her own safety she will be leaving with us."
My mother's eyes drop back to me, the hazel intense. "I see."
"Please could you see to it Rose eats what's been provided? She will need her strength for the journey. I'll be back momentarily with a first aid kit for her burn, there is medicine on the nightstand." He says and then glances down at me. "Eat."
He strides toward them and my mother quickly moves aside, the young Master turns to follow Dimitri out when he stalls. "Um, the closets over there, and uh, if you need help with the taps or anything I'll be outside. Use anything you need…" He doesn't look at either of us and his cheeks are blooming in colour. He takes a breath like he'll say something else but then snaps it closed and disappears after Dimitri, closing the door behind him.
"Mom I-"
"You heard him. Twenty minutes." She says coming over to me. Her shoulders are bent forward and I know she hates being in here, that I'm here.
"What does he mean I'm leaving? Where? When do I come back?"
"You heard the same thing I did." She eyes the bed like it's garbage in the heat. "Get off of there."
It's a struggle but I do and she takes my hand to steady me. The floor is soft and thick and with each step, I sink into the carpet. She leads me over to the high-backed armchair by the high arched window that looks out onto the orchard.
"Finish that." She says tonelessly. I look down at the forgotten yoghurt in my hand and she retrieves the rest from where Dimitri left it on the pristine white bedside table.
"You should eat some too."
"You heard the Guardian Rosemary. They expect you to have your strength."
"You should have half."
Anger flashes in her hazel eyes. "You will do what you're told."
I glare back at her. "I won't eat it if you don't. He gave me a drink for strength."
"Why can't you just do as asked? You are so stubborn."
"I can't eat it all. I'll be sick."
She makes an annoyed sound in the back of her throat and looks away. I didn't want to fight with her, not if I was leaving but I couldn't be leaving…
"Please, Janine."
She shakes her head and reluctantly she lifts half the sandwich, holding it gingerly like I had when Dimitri had first handed me the yoghurt. I take another mouthful. The sandwich looked to be just plain ham and had ragged edges where the knife had separated it. Mary couldn't have made that…
I think of the Young Master coming in with his hands laden with the food.
But he couldn't have made it. There is no way.
"Eat." She snaps and I jolt. "We don't have a lot of time."
I notice she's taken a small bite and I scoop up the rest of the yoghurt. Without a word, she hands me the other half of the sandwich.
I think this may be the biggest meal we've ever shared and we eat in silence. The texture of the bread and meat together made my eyes close. A glob of butter melted over my tongue and mixed with the saltiness of the ham... it's amazing.
Too soon it's gone.
I look at the crumbs stuck on my fingers when my mother holds out the fruit. I shake my head and ask for water before she can chide me. She'd finished her half too and like always I wished there were more. Not for me but her. My stomach feels slightly too small for me right now.
"Is this the energy drink?" she asks, pointing at the cloudy liquid on the table. I nod and she brings it over.
I take it first and drain the rest of it. I felt more alert than I had in days and things were starting to come back to me, forcing me to make them a part of reality and not something concealed in the back of my mind.
"Janine. Is Master Ozera my father?"
Her head snaps toward me, her eyes hard and searching.
I swallow. "Is he?"
"You know that he's not." She says deathly quiet. "I have told you this before."
She had but she had also never given me another answer, the missing piece to the question. The Master is the only male Moroi here who could...
I swallow and offer the reason I'd asked, again. "The Mistress thinks he is."
She sighs. "No, she doesn't. If she said as much in front of the people gathered downstairs it was for her own reasons, possibly to shame Lucas or..." She shakes her head and fixes her gaze back on me. "I was already pregnant when I was brought here. I've told you this and I made sure it could never happen again."
The question is in my throat, squeezing, but I couldn't make it come out. I knew underneath the harshness of the outside that this upset her. I couldn't bring myself to ask her who my father was or where he was. If it mattered or ask the reasons why it didn't.
"She tried to kill me." I say instead.
My mother's face softens slightly, her smaller hand covers mine.
"The knife… did you want me to hurt her first?"
"Maybe. Yes. I wanted to go out fighting. I knew you'd want that. I didn't know what else to do."
"She sent me to a Strigoi. I stabbed it."
The colour drains from her face and her hand tightens on mine but her eyes, that amber cracks with anger that had always frightened and comforted me.
"Strigoi?" She repeats.
I nod. "You never told me about them."
"I never wanted you to have the need to." She says and her eyes drift far away. She looks how she does when she lies motionless on the ground when the Master comes and my heart clenches.
"Dimitri killed her."
Her eyes find me again. "Dimitri?" I nod and her jaw tightens, her face hardening over again. The cold seeps through me under her gaze as I realize my mistake. "Guardian Belikov, Rosemarie. Do not forget."
I should nod, I should know better but tonight is making me feel like I don't know anything. "He's different. Mr. Dashkov's Guardians are different."
Her fingers clench on my forearm, causing the burn further up to throb. My gasp is lost under her stream of words.
"They are never different! How many times have I told you, have warned you? Do you want to end up like Eddie?"
She may as well have slapped me.
Her grave, lined face dares me to disagree but I can't. She was right, she was right and I had been so easily fooled. I'd been so stupid to think being saved from one evil by another meant something good. It didn't and now I was going to be taken away.
Now I reach for her. "Mom, I can't leave. Please, don't let-"
There's a rapid knock on the door and I turn my face away as Dimitri steps into the room. I would not let them see me upset. I would never let them see me weak.
"Is everything alright?" He asks quietly, sounding like he cared. I need to protect myself from these tricks but I didn't know how.
The mother's hand slackens in its grip but pulls me onto my feet. "Yes, Guardian Belikov. She's eaten what you've provided and now I'll see to it she's washed and ready to leave as quickly as possible."
"There was a minor hiccup downstairs. You have a little more time. I found a medical kit and I would like to asses Rose's arm, if that's okay?"
A question that wasn't really a question. Always orders, always. I had to remember.
I push my feelings off my face and turn around, nodding at the carpet.
"I can do that, don't trouble yourself." My mother says plainly but she positions herself in front of me.
"It's no trouble." He replies, closer this time. I hadn't heard his footsteps at all. "Perhaps you could look in the closet for something for Rose to wear. Practical and comfortable. "
It takes a few moments but my mother leaves my side and his boots come into view. The black toes were slightly dusty but compared to my shoes they were pristine.
How angry the mistress would be that my torn-up shoes are on her carpet, had been on her bed. It did seem like a terrible misdoing, my sneakers embedded into the thick taupe carpet that I would be grateful to even sleep on.
"Sit down, Rose."
I do as I'm told, keeping my eyes down and mentally apologising to the carpet.
"This may sting a little." He says.
I let him work away at removing the bandages that look too moist and ratty as they fall to the floor. I try to keep my eyes averted from his knees and the green box beside them which is filled with little packets, bottles, plasters, and bandages. I try but I fail, my curiosity burning past my common sense.
I suck air in through my teeth as my arm blazes with heat that makes me think of my flesh bubbling.
"Sorry. It will help." He says calmly and I cling to that steadiness.
My jaw clenches but I can't help the small whimpers that sound from my throat. A cool hand touches my left one. My mother had come back to my side. She was watching whatever Dimitri doing with narrowed eyes.
"This is the best that can be done until we land, where we'll have someone properly look at it." He says.
"A doctor?" My mother asks.
"Better." He responds and she looks at him as if he were lying. It was dangerous to look at them like that.
I feel him winding a new bandage around my arm and he fastens it. I can' help but look over at the new white cloth and how he was tearing another packet open and pulling out a clear film.
"It's waterproof." He says without looking up.
My mother's hand squeezes mine, a warning. I look away.
"Thank you, Guardian Belikov." She says.
"You're welcome." He says and I hear him close the box shut. "I feel in light of the circumstances, from the little I can understand of what you have had to endure, that I should tell you what I've told, Rose. She has my protection and no harm will come to her, not from me or my colleagues, not from my charge."
I watch my hands and how they begin to tremble, all my will stopping from twisting my finger together. My mind tells me his words are lies...they had to be lies and my mother would know this but the smallest part of me wants to believe him.
Neither of them speaks and I imagine they're staring at each other, that my mother was facing down those lies the way she can face anything. Because she's strong, because she'll face anything for me and it makes guilt spill into my gut.
Suddenly my mother pulls me up and leads me to a door to the right. I look up when the ground switches from the taupe carpet to grey, shiny stone and a sharper light ignites around me. I blink. This whole room was shiny walls and surfaces, a marble counter with a dip in the centre for a sink, and a mirror that stretched out to cover the wall above it. Across from me, the floor rose to be tiled steps and I move closer to see it lead to a deep basin. A bath. It's a bath.
I'm hyper-aware of the mirror and it's coaxing me to look. I'd wanted to see myself, hadn't I? So why couldn't I look now?
The door clicking behind me causes me to jump.
"Get undressed." My mother says, sliding the lock into place.
I do as she says and watch as she crosses to the left of the room and slides a glass screen aside that had the texture of crystal ridges. My mother's form is blurred behind it. She ducks out quickly as water bursts from above.
"It's a shower." She explains as she looks at a silver rack on the wall that held many bottles and jars. She picks up two and her hand hesitates in the air, she plucks up another.
"It feels wrong to be in here. They're her things aren't they?"
"Yes." My mother says and then she does something rare. She smiles a little.
Steam was creeping out from behind the glass as I undo the cord on my slacks so they drop to the floor. I step out of them and look down at my chest.
"Um, mom." She's taking a folded towel out of a cupboard when she looks over. I stand awkwardly. It was worse in here under the bright lights and wide space. With one hand I motion at the bandages around my chest.
She crosses the room and begins undoing them.
"You'll have to practice yourself when you're away." She says severely. "Understand? Every morning."
I nod and she snatches the last bind away from my chest. I fold my arms over myself as she explains the order of the bottles I've to use first.
"When the conditioner is in your hair wash your body with this." She holds up the jar. "When you've washed it off then wash your hair."
I nod, the steam tickles my skin with its warmth and causes me to shiver. She puts the bottles inside the screen and then ushers me through the glass before sliding it shut. The tiles under my feet are rougher and I guess it's so I don't slip. A big circular silver dish above me is gushing water and cautiously I reach out my hand. The water hits my skin like warm rain drops. I step inside the cylinder of water.
It is incredible. I have to catch my breath as the water cascades all over me like a warm caress. The water runs off my head before seeping in properly and I pull my hair tie out. I'd never bathed like this before with my whole body being attended to by the water. I almost want to cry it's so nice.
But I wouldn't cry.
I run my hands over my face and my hair once, loving how the length of it stuck to my back, before taking up the bottle my mother had given me. I uncap the first that she'd told me was 'shampoo' and it pours into my palm in a thick, silvery pool. It smells amazing, unlike anything I've smelt before. I slap it onto my head before it can drop off my palm. I rub it in until it becomes lather and my eyes flutter shut, scrubbing all the oil away and kneading my scalp. I do that twice as she told me to, grinning the whole time.
Until some of it got into my eyes and I splutter at the stinging sensation. But that didn't ruin it for me, even the hot throb of my arm couldn't.
The conditioner stuff was thinner and some of it escaped my palm. I throw it onto my hair and begin working it through the length, amazing when it suddenly becomes smoother, soft like wet silk. I step away from the stream of water as I unscrew the jar. I almost drop it. The smell of vanilla rises out of it, reminding me of buttercream.
I couldn't imagine the Mistress smelling like this at all. If I had smelt this on her then I wouldn't be able to deposit it into my hand and begin working it over my skin.I couldn't bring myself to use the sponges or the scrunches for the same reason, I didn't want anything on my body that had touched theirs.
Some of the lather on my arms turns dark as I scrub off the dirt and sweat of the past couple of days. I even discover some scratches and marks from tonight, signs that it was all real. That and the band on my right arm which the water slides off due to its protective cover. I get the dirt out from under my nails and risk another glob of the body wash to do my legs and my chest.
"Rose." My mother calls shocking me back into reality. "Are you nearly done?"
"Yes." I call back and step into the stream fully.
I run my finger through my hair, letting the smooth coating wash off and enjoying the wet silk between my hands. I pull my hair forward so it's covering both my breasts. I wish it was so easy to hide them all the time or they weren't there at all. And the worst part was I didn't hate them as much as I should do and I didn't know why. I knew that they put me in danger. I knew what my mother told me about how they drew attention and lured men closer. I hated that I didn't hate them.
The glass door slides open and cold air sneaks over my skin.
"Let me feel your hair, to make sure it's all out."
I step toward her and she runs her fingers through the mass and over my scalp.
"Get out." She instructs as soon as she's done prodding. She picks up the towel and shakes it open. I step into it. "Dry off quickly."
She lifts a small towel and turns me around, working it through my hair.
The mirror is all steamed up.
It's like being a child again. Only my childhood never had soft towels…or towels at all.
She drops her towel into a hamper and pulls the hair tie from my wrist. I hadn't noticed before but I was taller than her.
"Head back."
She hasn't braided my hair since I was small either.
When she's finished my hair hangs in a thick rope down my back, touching the top of my backside. I notice the folded clothes on top of the toilet seat and a pair of untouched-looking white tennis shoes on the floor next to my discarded clothes.
She pulls the towel away from my body and tells me to put the jeans on. I do and they sit neatly on my hips but there was a gap between the button and my tummy. They were also far too long. She drops onto her knees and begins rolling them up. A shiver passes over me when I remember they were the mistress's clothes, they had been on her skin and suddenly the fabric is too tight, itchy and...
My mother stands and she has the bandages in her hands. Without being told I lift my arms, not looking at her the whole time as she wraps them around my chest. When she finishes she hands me the folded dark purple garment that turns out to be a thin sweater. I pull it on marveling at the softness against my skin.
I pull on the socks.
"This feels so strange." I murmur.
"They told me to make you presentable." She replies. She's got a small smile again. "She won't miss these."
"You know she will."
She pauses. "Then I guess I just don't care."
She laces up the shoes for me. My toes don't reach the top but I like how they feel sturdy and the firmness of the soles.
All of this is eclipsed when I realise what it's all for.
"Mom, what am I going to do?" She finishes tying my laces and takes a deep breath before looking up at me. Her hazel eyes are grave and I think this might be the last answer she'll ever give me. "Tell me what to do."
Like she had earlier she takes my face in her hand and it fills me with dread.
"Survive." She whispers.
She tidies the towels into a hamper in the corner as I watch the steamed-up mirror. I wonder if I should wipe some of it clean to see what colour my eyes are.
A gentle tap on the door makes us both jump.
"Rose." Dimitri's, Guardian Belikov's, voice carries through. "It's time to go."
My mother holds my eyes for a moment and I almost ask her to keep the door locked. She looks away and opens it. All the warmth of the bathroom floods out.
Guardian Belikov is standing near the doorway and he looks from my mother to me. I hold his gaze for a second too long before dropping mine to my old clothes on the floor. I can smell them from where I was sitting.
I stand up and follow him out into the bedroom.
"Guardian Belikov." My mother's voice stops us both. She twists her hands in front of her but she pushes her shoulder back as she looks at him. "May I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Did you train in Russia?"
I almost look at him but I keep my eyes down.
"Yes."
"Do they still hold… teach the old ways there?"
"Yes. I was taught the code of honour and service."
She takes a deep breath and I see the anxiety in her eyes. "Do you live by it?"
"I do."
She glances at me.
"No harm will come to your daughter. I promise."
"A blood promise?" She says quickly, looking back at him. My face creases in confusion, not just at her words but the anxiety on her face. She never wore emotions like that.
There was a heavy silence in which I didn't know where to look. Why was she asking questions, she told me to never ask questions and yet she was almost interrogating him.
She was doing it for me.
Risking punishment for me again.
I open my mouth to tell her to stop when Dimitri responds. "Yes."
He walks past me and my mother's eyes widen. I watch terrified and twitch a step forward when he pulls a deadly-looking knife from his belt. The blade glinted at me. Bewildered I watch as he pulls the sharpened edge over his palm, then holds the handle out to my mother. She takes it and a noise gets caught in my throat as she does the same thing to her hand.
She looks at the incision, the line of blood, and then she holds it out to Dimitri. She is so tiny compared to his towering presence but she is looking at him levelly like she matched him in size. Dimitri's hand meets hers, clasping together.
"I seal an oath by my blood that I will keep her safe." Dimitri states in a resolute tone. "That I will stand in front of whatever danger she may face."
Something, so faint, fizzes through the air like static but it could all be in my head.
My mother continues to stare him down, an alien emotion crossing her face briefly before she nods. Their hands break apart, a bloody smear on both.
Dimitri stalks past me and I turn to follow.
"Wait." My mother squeaks and she reaches behind her head. The gold catches the light as she pulls it free and holds it out to me. "Take this."
She closes my hand around it, their mixed blood a small smear on my skin. "A piece of me will be with you."
My throat closes over and I can't speak. She squeezes my hand once and then lets me go.
"You can come out to the car if you wish to." Dimitri offers gently.
She doesn't look away from my face. "No. No, I don't want to."
Tightness in my chest copies that in my throat. This isn't real, this cannot be happening, this is a bizarre dream because of the painkillers and I will wake in the barn, with her beside me and nothing will be different. I hold her gaze and silently beg her to tell me that, that even in dreaming she will lead me out of this.
Her hazel eyes, sunlight shining through amber, break away and my last hope goes with them.
"Don't cry," She orders quietly.
I blink rapidly and do the one last thing I can for her. I set my shoulders and turn away, walking toward Dimitri.
I don't look back.
I follow him in silence through the house. It's quiet and we go down corridors I don't know. I worry he'll ask me for directions but he never does and I wonder how he knows.
My mother and a horrible feeling in my stomach try to take reign over my mind but I fight it. I can't find the numbness to pull around myself and I wonder was it because I was leaving the place I had found it in.
I was leaving.
I almost fall as the stairs pop into view at the edge of my feet. I right myself and don't look up to see if Dimitri notices and if he did he doesn't say anything. The stairs lead down to black and white tiles. This hallway was huge and I couldn't remember it at all. An even bigger chandler hangs from the ceiling. The staircase was twice as wide as any other and on my right side was a hallway but to the left opened up a grand room that had to be the living room. No, I had never been here.
I catch Dimitri's eye. He's waiting in the large open doorway watching me patiently. Behind him, the stars gleam in the sky. I drop my gaze and move toward him but as I approach the door I realise he hasn't moved. I make myself look up.
His eyebrows are furrowed and for the first time tonight, he looks openly...concerned. His lips part as if to speak and I immediately question what it is that I have done wrong.
His gaze flicks behind me and he becomes expressionless.
"Not the way I planned on getting rid of you but it works just the same." A voice slurs and my body stiffens.
I want to run toward the stars.
"You will face me when I'm speaking to you!"
I half turn toward her but I don't look up from the floor.
She giggles and it crawls over my skin. "Look at you in my clothes. Trying to play dress-up … you look ridiculous."
"Come, Rose." Dimitri murmurs, curling his arm into the air around my shoulders, careful not to touch me, but steering me through the door.
"Wait!" she shrieks and I jump, the movement bringing me close to his warmth.
Dimitri's hand presses between my shoulder blades. I look up and his jaw is clenched, his eyes trained on her and I remember what he said...what he promised.
"You have no idea what you and that old man have done. No idea. He'll pay for this. So will you and that little bitch."
Dimitri's face becomes even harder, his eyes dark and flat.
I wonder if he'd attack her… a little bit of me wants him to.
He inhales deeply. "Goodnight Mrs. Ozera. I would advise better treatment of those in your care. Your new Guardians will be watching."
"How dare you threaten me!" She lashes. "You dare speak to me in that way. You contumelious half-breed."
Dimitri's hand shoves me forward and I stumble out onto the porch. He fills up the doorway, a barricade between her and me.
Mistress Ozera continues screaming about half breeds, respect, divine right, and Moroi importance.
When she pauses to draw breath someone else speaks. A voice I recognise as Mr. Dashkov.
"Moira you have had far too much to drink. Please step away from Dimitri for your own sake."
She starts shrieking again and another man's voice is trying to calm her. Dimitri steps aside and Mr. Dashkov steps onto the porch, the other two Guardians behind him.
Up close he looks tired.
"Come, dear." He says and I follow him down the steps.
I peek up at his guardians and back at the house. Dimitri is still in the doorway and beyond him, I can see Master Ozera holding onto the Mistress. Some of her hair has come loose and she looks murderous.
I look away before her eyes find me.
The blond Guardian opens a door at the front of a big, black car and helps Mr. Dashkov step up into it.
"After you." A voice says. The dark-haired guardian is holding open a door. He smiles. "Do you need help into the car?"
I shake my head not sure if that it was the truth. I climb up into it and once I'm seated he closes the door with a soft click. It was cool inside, the leather under my hands was cold and it was smaller than I thought it would be. The blonde Guardian climbs into the driver's seat beside Mr. Dashkov. I jump as the door to my other side swings open and the Guardian who had opened mine climbs in. I think his name was Ben.
The blonde was Spiridon.
But I couldn't call them that.
I hear Ben start muttering and I realize he has one of those earpieces on. I look out the window at Dimitri on the porch.
"He's not happy." Mr. Dashkov sighs.
"Since when is Dimitri ever happy?" Spiridon replies. "It went better than I thought it would, more is the pity."
"We still have a lot of work to do." Mr. Dashkov murmurs.
"Gotta move the pawns before you can get to checkmate."
The car suddenly purrs beneath me and I clutch the seat.
"Who knew we'd get a souvenir out of this." The blonde says, grabbing my attention. He's grinning at me over his seat and I sink back against my own.
"Don't scare her even more. She has been through a great deal tonight." Mr. Dashkov scolds.
He looks over his shoulder with pity on his face. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions dear. I will answer every one of them if you could just be a little more patient, it is a lot to ask I realise."
I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do but thankfully he turns back around.
"What the hell is Belikov doing?" Spiridon asks no one in particular.
Mr. Dashkov looks out his window. "I knew he'd struggle with this."
"Which is why you gave him the option not to come." Spiridon grumbles back. "We told the pilot six."
"Here he comes." Mr. Dashkov exhales.
A moment later the door beside me opens and I jerk in my seat.
"Move over Rose." Dimitri says sounding strained.
I scramble over to the centre, trying to put as much space between myself and Ben as Dimitri takes the seat on my other side. I wish I was smaller.
"Saying your farewells?" Spiridon asks cheerily.
"Oh do shut up and drive." Mr. Dashkov orders, rubbing his hand over his forehead in a manner that makes me think he has a headache.
Dimitri's face could be made of stone. In the mirror that hangs at the front of the car, I see Spiridon grin. He pulls on a stick beside him and the car moves forward.
"Put your seatbelt on." Dimitri says quietly. At my baffled expression he reaches over me which makes me tense even more. His loose hair tickles my chin and then he pulls a strap across me, clicking it into the seat.
He relaxes back and I look straight ahead out at the dark, not able to see where Spiridon is taking us but I could feel the house getting further away and with it my mother. It makes me dizzy.
I find it then, nestled deep inside, the numbness. I pull it around me as we drive unseeingly into the dark.
I had to survive.
Hello lovelies. Thank you for your patience. I had so much going on last week between uni stuff and work but I hope you liked a short snap of Dimitri's POV
And so the journey begins…
Chapter updated 10/04/2022