RPOV

Dimitri looks over his shoulder. "Stay with me."

I'm panting and my calves are burning, no, searing in agony. "I'm trying."

We're in the forest and the sky is in small pieces above us, branches mostly blocking it out so there's no light to guide us and if I don't keep up I'll lose him. He turns away and moves on, sinking into the darkness.

My feet slide on the leaves as I try to go after him. "Wait, please!"

He doesn't look back and the dark consumes him.

I bolt upright.

Spiridon is shouldering on his jacket and spares me a glance. "Morning."

Morning?

I reach out to my left and sure enough, he's still there. Dimitri hasn't moved an inch, only his chest lifts a fraction as he breathes. The bruises seem to glow on his skin and I wince at the sight of them. My fingers curl into the sheet.

"Where are you going?" My voice is scratchy like I've been screaming.

"Belikov needs blood, an IV and morphine before we try to move him. Before we even try to get back home."

"How are we going to get back home?"

"Let's just deal with the immediate problems first, okay?" He sighs, stomping on his boots.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Stay here. Call me if he stops breathing. Call me if Ben calls you. Call me if anyone comes to the door, even if it is a sweet ol' grandma. Keep the door barricaded. I won't be any longer than an hour and a half."

"Where are you going?" He pulls the chair back so the door opens enough for him to slide through. I get out of bed. "Spiridon."

"To raid a hospital. Push the chair back."

Before I can protest or reach out to grab him he's gone. A cold wind slips into the room and I rush to do as he says, sealing the door again. It's completely dark in here and I don't realise what I'm listening for until I hear him breathe.

I pad back to the bed and climb back in as delicately as I can, which seems wrong as I feel like I should be doing something. I try to take comfort in the fact that my being totally useless means I don't have to leave Dimitri alone. To be honest, if Spiridon had told me I had to go with him I'm not sure I could.

I retrieve my phone from under the pillow. It's 4 am and there are no messages. Not from Ben or Victor or Lissa or anyone. If Ben had gotten Victor on a plane to America then they should have landed by now. I try to work out what time it is there but a wave of exhaustion comes over me and I drop my phone to my side.

Spiridon will get us home. I surprise myself by how calm and certain I feel about this – well maybe almost certain. Or maybe I was lying to myself because if I didn't, if he didn't then…

I feel the entire weight of the unfinished thought bear down on my chest so I choke.

No no no, he would. He came for us last night. He would never leave Dimitri behind, not if he could help it, because he wouldn't let Victor down. And also, I think I was beginning to understand the connection they held as Guardians, as proper Guardians who were trained with honour and had a sense of duty. The Guardian instructor back at the college had spoken of it, that you always saved who you could. I'd watched that class in wonder, knowing I was seeing what my life could have been, should have been, instead of being what I was now. Whatever I was. Leverage?

My fists close around the sheets.

Zmey had taken the only thing I possessed that reminded me someone out there cared about me. Cared not because they felt sorry for me or because I knew things they could use. And Zmey had stolen it.

I will get it back. Somehow.

I let out a long, controlled breath and turn on my side.

The bruising is bad, so bad. It would be more believable to think someone had painted over his skin. What had he told me? He'd fallen. Just how far had he fallen and how could he just be walking around in that agony and not telling any of us? How could he have lied about it? How could Ben not know – he said Ben had fallen too. The fire in me cackles and spits as it slithers through my veins.

Spiridon had said he had no broken bones, maybe some bruised ribs and the lumber region of his bottom back was 'fucked'.

What if Spiridon hadn't found us?

He'd be dead.

I can't even imagine it.

I allow myself to trace his forearm with my fingertips. He's warm, not feverishly hot like yesterday, and if I press down a little I can feel the muscle beneath. I'd thought him indestructible because he's sturdy, because he's a Guardian and they'd been the titans and tyrants of my childhood. But here he is broken – just like Eddie.

"Roza." The faintest whisper.

The fire is sucked back down into the black pit. I push up onto my elbow.

His eyelids tremble, like he's seeing things behind them before slowly he opens his eyes. Dark chocolate again and not black. He swallows and immediately I reach to the bedside for the glass of water. I slip my arm under his neck and slowly lift his head, like my mother had done for me, and bring the glass to his lips. He drains the glass and before I've even lowered him back to the pillow he's out again.

Roza

His voice whispers through my head like a breeze. The only thing I had of my own, that no one else had any claim to, was my name. And now he had given me another variation of it that I assume is the Russian version. Only he could use it. Something about that felt… nice. Another thing we had between us.

After a while, the sight of his bruises and cuts that aren't covered by white plaster sends my anxiety levels up and I retrieve the Alchemist paste. It couldn't hurt. Very, very lightly I start dabbing it on his discoloured skin.

I was wrong, where the colouring gets darker his skin runs hotter and I picture it like lightening raging under storm clouds.

Somewhere in my task I start to notice how my fingertips dip and rise over the different muscles. I start to marvel at it.

There's a thud and I almost drop the pot.

"Help me out, will you?" Spiridon huffs through the gap in the door.

I haul the chair back and I would never admit it to anyone but the damn thing is heavy. Spiridon slips in with a rucksack in hand.

"I take it he hasn't woken up?"

"Uh, only for a minute. I gave him some water and then he passed out again. What's all that?"

On the bed, he's unpacking things that looked like long straws, bags of water, syringes and bags of blood.

"No screaming?"

"What?"

Spiridon starts connecting the straws to the bags. "He'll be in a world of hell. He was in bad shape before we even got to the bar."

Ice travels down my back. "No. No, screaming."

"Always so composed." Spiridon mocks under his breath. "Right, you are going to watch me put in the cannula for the blood and then you're going to do it for the IV fluids and you're going to get it right the first time because he has enough holes in him and we're already on borrowed time."

I blink.

"I'm – what?"

He doesn't answer but strides around to the side of the bed so he can kneel by Dimitri's side. He takes off his belt and straps it around his upper arm. "This is how you find a vein. See, it rises to the surface and we need a good one to slip the needle into it." He flicks the bluish-purple cord that's risen under Dimitri's skin.

"Why? I mean why does -"

"He lost a lot of blood yesterday - you're wearing most of it." I have been trying not to think about that. "So this is the fastest way to replenish it. I should have done it hours ago but I just… I didn't have it in me." If I didn't know better I would say he sounded guilty. "Are you paying attention?" I nod and he slips the needle into Dimitri's skin. Red starts to crawl into the thin tube. He takes the blood bag and hangs it off the headboard. He touches the plastic-looking tap thing on the 'cannula' and then blood starts travelling down from the bag.

Spiridon sighs, bowing his head before snapping his attention to me. "Now you."

I open and close my mouth a few times.

"He's dehydrated. He will die. Do something."

He stares at me without any yield to sympathy. I swallow and when I reach for the other cannula I'm surprised my hands aren't shaking. Spiridon passes me the belt. I copy what he'd done and strap the arm up. A few veins come to the surface. "How do I know which one?"

"Prod them."

I do, some sink and take a few seconds to reappear but one remains bulbous. I hold the needle above it, take a breath, then tilt it at an angle like he had and look to him for confirmation. He nods, eyes trained on it.

"You should -"

"I will if you fuck it up." He says and oddly I find that eases the panic to a simmer.

Please, please, please let me get this right. I slip it into the vein. There's a split second before the blood appears in the tube. Spiridon doesn't say anything but takes over and connects the water bag with the long tube to it and hangs it up on the opposite side of the headboard.

My shoulders relax, "Now what do we do?"

Spiridon cracks his neck. "Now we wait. Give it an hour and a bit before we try and move him. We need to be out of here before eight. I've already ditched that car you stole."

Oh yeah, I'd stolen and driven a car.

"Dimitri said we couldn't take our car yesterday because Ben would have fried the engine, how is yours working?"

Spiridon rustles through the backpack. "He should have but he can't multi-task and for once I'm grateful. The jeep probably won't run now that he's gotten Victor somewhere secure. God, I hope no one's noticed the rear window."

He pulls out a paper bag and passes it to me. When I open it the smell sends my stomach into audible spasms.

I lift out one of the two croissants and take a massive bite.

"Oh man, it's like watching shark week."

With my cheeks stuffed I smile up at him and he snorts. He pulls out another paper bag and drops himself into the armchair. Pushing it further against the door with his feet, like its effortless. We eat in silence and it's the first time I've ever been alone with Spiridon and not felt like I needed something pointy close by.

I finish my first croissant and ask, "When that stuff is in him are we gonna try and go home?"

"When that stuff is finished then we need to give him some morphine. Then we have to move somewhere else before the police show up looking for the owner of the car – I have questions about that by the way – or before the cleaning lady reports 204's door is bust, or someone gets alarmed there's a black G-wagon with bullets embedded in it."

"Why didn't you get rid of it too?"

Spiridon gives me a look. "Oh sure, after I've taken one car and robbed a hospital - then ditched it without being caught, then picked up your breakfast and paid an extortionate price for a cab back here. I should have then left for another hour and hoped Belikov didn't flat line whilst I drove a war zone-looking vehicle in rush hour and just hoped it wouldn't raise an eyebrow."

I stare at him. "Are you done?"

"Are you with your stupid questions?"

"How are you hiding the jeep from the humans now?"

"It's round the back by the garbage bins."

"Kay." I pull out the other pastry. This one has chocolate speckled on top. "Thank you, for this."

"Yeah well, didn't want to listen to you whine."

Neither of us try and make conversation after that, and weirdly it's not awkward. We wait for a few hours until Spiridon says that Dimitri's colour looks better and his pulse has gotten stronger.

"He needs to rest but we don't have the time." He mutters, running a hand through his hair so it's more erratic than usual.

"What are we going –" My phone starts to ring and before I can even take it from my pocket it's gone.

Spiridon scans the screen before putting it to his ear. Whatever is said makes his posture relax but his face remains hard. "Elena. What was the last thing Victor said to us before we left the car on August 19th?" Another pause. "Glad you were paying attention, White."

Ben. Ben is on the phone.

"Belikov's in bad shape. Like hooked up to stolen fluids and an IV in a crusty motel bad shape. How's Victor? Where are you? …. Okay good. Oh, she's here. She's fine." I have this urge to yank the phone back from him, it is mine, and talk to Ben for myself. Just to hear his voice, something familiar to help in all this chaos and Spiridon isn't explaining just how bad everything is. "They stole a car yesterday so it's bound to be on the radar by now and I managed to get here in one of ours. What do you mean how? The old-fashioned way, I hotwired it." Ben talks for a few minutes and Spiridon starts to pace. "No, private is out. I don't trust they won't be all over it, especially with the interest they took in...yeah. I need you to get us booked onto commercial and get an Alchemist in the city on payroll." Spiridon stops and looks at Dimitri. "Well if that happens let's hope there's a doctor onboard'.

Another few hours go by in which Spiridon changes the fluids over and we avoid letting a cleaner into the room. Spiridon talks to her through a crack in the door and slips her a few bills of Estonian money.

"How do you know she won't say anything?"

"I don't. Grab your shit, it's time to add to your automobile theft count."

After Spiridon breaks into someone's car, without difficulty or remorse, I start loading it up with our stuff, making sure Dimitri's duster is folded and put in the front. When I get back upstairs Spiridon has Dimitri sitting up and he's awake.

"Is there anyone around?"

"Uh no, just cars going by."

"Okay good."

Spiridon helps Dimitri pull on a sweatshirt, he must have stolen that too from somewhere, and I rock on my heels as his face spasms in pain.

"Water?" Dimitri rasps.

"Rose the bottle."

I bring it to him and unscrew the cap with clumsy fingers.

"Thank you." He murmurs but he doesn't take it from me. In those few seconds, I realise he's so physically exhausted that all his energy is going into staying awake. Without asking or being told I bring it to his lips. Our eyes lock and I feel everything from the past day rush through me – until he makes a noise and I take the bottle away.

His head falls back heavily onto the pillows.

"Victor?"

Spiridon shakes his head. "Home. It's us that we need to worry about."

Dimitri looks to the ceiling. "Go. You should go."

Spiridon's face hardens. "Grateful aren't you?"

Dimitri closes his eyes, "We both know I'm not getting back."

There's a tick in Spiridons jaw. "I'm still figuring it out. You save your breath." He stalks to the other end of the room and begins pacing and muttering to himself.

"I told you to run."

Dimitri's looking at me from under his lashes.

I lean in, conscious of Spiridon in the room, conscious of how close I am to him and of what I'm about to say in defiance, "I don't leave my friends to die."

"There is a line," He says and I know it's causing him maximum effort, "between bravery and stupidity."

If he wasn't in such bad shape I might have hit him. I lean away and try and settle the fire in my belly.

"Okay." Spiridon announces. "Let's get moving."

Hours later we're in some other crappy motel, with some crappy crusty carpet, and two single crappy beds and a crappy couch that turned into a very crappy bed. And Spiridon is in a very crappy mood.

Any hope I had that we were just an hour or two away from driving to a plane starts to disappear. I trace a bruise on my arm finding it hard to believe that only a few days ago my biggest concern was putting up with Spiridon and wondering what I got to eat next.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid.

Once I start to feel like I'm on even ground the whole world seems to flip and the Moroi throw fireballs at Guardians. Moroi were always behind Dhampirs, the protected, but in that room, they stood apart from the rest of the world. They fought with the Dhampirs – I'm not even sure if they would call the Dhampirs their Guardians – it didn't seem like they needed guarding.

"I'm going out – make sure he doesn't die." Spiridon says.

I sit up on the couch and try not to think about the crunchy noise that comes from the cushions, "Where are you going?"

"To find a fucking way out of here seeing White hasn't."

"When will you be back?"

"Later." And he leaves.

I lean back on the sofa as the silence stretches out and try to ignore the spring digging into my left butt cheek. My nail scratches against the fabric as thoughts build momentum in my head.

What if he doesn't come back? What if Dimitri needs help? What if Zmey and his friends find us?

The fabric tears and my finger goes through into the sponge padding, which is somehow moist.

"Urgh." I jump up wiping my hands on my jeans.

"Our circumstances...have significantly gone downhill."

His voice is so low and weak it makes me freeze. Then I all but fly across the room and drop onto the crusty carpet beside him. He coughs and my hands flutter uselessly in the air.

"Spiridons went to…get help. So we can go home."

"Glavnaya?" He murmurs, looking at the ceiling but I'm not sure that's what he sees.

"Do you want some water?" He mutters more words I can't understand. "Dimitri?"

His eyes find me. "Spiridon?"

"Yes, he's here. Not right now – he went to get help."

"You should have gone with him. Gone… left."

"We're not leaving you."

He gives me a sad smile. "You are both stupid."

I glower at him and repeat Spiridons sentiment from before, "Try being grateful. It'll suit you."

His eyes flutter closed.

I busy myself smoothing down the cover, pull another stiff blanket from the closet and drape it over him. Then I'm back to being useless.

I step back toward the couch but I swear I see something twitch under the faded purple velvet. I shudder and grab a packet of chips Spiridon brought and scoot gently onto the bed beside Dimitri.

His eyelashes are long for a man. And very dark, like how Lissa likes them to look when she uses her make-up. His hair is almost black in this light. I dare myself to touch it but pansy out more than twice. Instead, my fingers rest on the pillow beside his face and I freeze when he turns toward me in his sleep. His cheekbones are more defined, almost too sharp and it hits me again how little care he'd been taking of himself. Even if his body wasn't battered from the fall - fall from what? The sky? - he hadn't been eating enough to have any of his usual strength never mind what his body would have needed to feed the adrenaline.

I drift off wondering how we could get him to eat.

A shadow moves above me and I scream.

A hand clamps down on my mouth and I reach for the lamp.

"Its me" Spiridon hisses. "Were you going to hit me with that? Are you serious?" As soon he removes his hand I propel back and smack my head off the headboard.

Spiridon rolls his eyes, moving around the bed to touch the tubes and baggies hooked up to Dimitri – who hadn't even stirred.

"Okay Belikov, you're not going to like it but..." He starts lightly slapping his cheek until he comes around. "Dinner time. Nice, calorie-heavy sludge."

Dimitri's eyes close. Spiridon slaps him again, harder this time.

"Stop that!"

He ignores me, "Prop the pillows up behind him."

He slides his arms under Dimitri as if to hug him and hauls him into a sitting position causing a long, deep groan of pain. I do as I was told and I do it quickly. Spiridon leans him back so he's propped up and then takes out two big packets from his coat.

"What's that?" I ask, twisting my fingers.

"Alchemists finest take on 'nutrition packs' for the field. 800 calories a pop, tastes like shit and he needs at least four of them."

"You went to an alchemist?"

"Didn't I just say that?" He tears open one of the packs and wrinkles his nose. "Belikov. Hey, Belikov. Swallow this and don't puke on me."

Dimitri resists at first but Spiridon doesn't give him much of a choice. I go to the bathroom finding it hard to watch and take the time to scrub my face. When I come back out Spiridon is eating a sandwich seemingly non-phased he had to pin another man down and force a burnt raisin-smelling brown gel down his throat. He gestures to a plastic bag on the couch to indicate he's brought me one too.

"I need you to tell me everything from the bar to now." Spiridon says around a mouthful of bread. "Everything. Down to minor details, what someone said, how they said it, how someone moved, colours, the route here, when and where you pissed – everything until this very moment. Understand?"

I can't seem to unscrew my face. "When I peed?"

He stop chewing so I can have the full force of his exasperated expression.

I roll my eyes and try to think back. The past few days feel like weeks. I start with me and Ben waiting on the street for ten minutes before following them into the bar. How Ben said things to me in Estonian then lower in English, to when Victor muttered something and Dimitri unleashed hell. The run down the alley, the fight, the run through the mall, the car park, somehow managing to drive us to the first motel, Dimitri handing me the gun and then finally to when he kicked in the door.

"Tell me again." He says.

So I do. Then twice more. Then three times. By the seventh time I'm getting irritated as he picks out things to question me about.

"I don't know - they didn't say it in English" I explain when he asks me again what Dimitri and Zmey said to one another. "He took my necklace….and he looked confused about it."

"He looked confused about your necklace or what Dimitri said?"

"I'm not sure."

"Show me how he held it."

"What has this got to do with anything?"

"Show me." He says handing me the cable for his phone charger. Begrudgingly I hold my hand up. "That's how he held it? Like he caught a fish."

"You're so annoying." I mutter before kneeling down and trying to position myself the way he had. "Happy?"

"Zmey brandished it like that?"

"Yes."

"You don't sound sure."

"You try repeating the same thing over and over and see if you still believe it."

Spiridon closes his eyes and inhales through his nose. "This is important."

"Yes. Yes, he brandished my necklace AFTER Dimitri said something to him. Then we ran into the back alley."

"Right. Tell me about the parking lot."

I run through it again. Everything Tanner and Dimitri said. I look down at my dirty fingernails when I tell him about blinding the Guardian. His expression never changes as he listens and questions. He never shows disgust or lets on about any individual detail being the key point he's waiting to hear. There's only a persistent curiosity.

Finally, he stops his line of questioning and looks thoughtful. "They were interested in taking you for the Ozera leverage…but they didn't know you are the leverage. Unless they were bluffing."

"They could have taken Dimitri for that too." I point out, seeing he was there in the woods too and heard, if not understood, more than I did.

"Hardly." His voice drips with sarcasm. "They're not going to 'take' Dimitri. They'd have to have balls the size of Mars to ask for him to just be handed over. Also, you lived there. There could be things you don't realise you know."

They'd have balls to ask for Dimitri but handing me over wasn't an issue? I grit my teeth. "Great."

He smirks up at me. "Not fun being special?"

"Fuck off." It comes out quietly but it's firm.

His eyebrows disappear into his flattened hairline and then he starts to laugh which just pisses me off even more.

"Spiridon." Dimitri's low voice interrupts. "Stop it."

"Can't help it." He says trying to keep his voice light but he moves to be nearer the bed, his eyes troubled as assesses Dimitri. "How do you feel?"

Dimitri opens his eyes to look at him.

"Thought as much. We're going to move soon."

"Leave me at a hospital."

"So rest up, mentally prepare etc." Spiridon carries on, ignoring it. "There's an Alchemist trying to set things up."

"There is?" He could have told me that.

He ignores me too and pulls two more packets of the gel sachets from his coat. "Dessert?"

Dimitri groans.

A few hours later, hours passed by staring at the peeling wallpaper and wondering when was the last time someone washed the carpets and if I should try, there's a knock at the door.

Spiridon, who's been pacing and muttering, goes still. Someone calls out in Estonian

"Remember." Spiridon breathes.

"I know."

Spiridon crosses to the door, touching the gun in the back of his waistband with one hand and unlatching the lock with the other. He peers outside and says something in Estonian and gets a curt reply. I pull my cap down further as the door opens and Spiridon stands aside for the Alchemist. I don't risk looking yet because I know they'll be surveying the room and taking in every detail. My instructions were to make myself as inconspicuous as possible although, I feel like the cap and the book in my lap work to do the opposite. I knew how to be invisible and this wasn't it.

They don't say much to each other and I think all Spiridon's replies are confirmations or further explanations. It's like ignoring an itch, the urge to look and see what he's doing to Dimitri. I remind myself they're here to help. Ben had sent them.

There's unzipping, clattering, tapping, fingers on a keyboard - a Ben sound, and wheezing- a Dimitri sound.

I re-read the same line 150 times before I risk peeking up.

This Alchemist resembles Victor more than Keith. He wears a suit, his jacket is slung over the chair by the shabby table, and his tie is flicked over his shoulder as he works over Dimitri. Spiridon's flint eyes watch every movement, coiled to spring.

There's a laptop set up on the table and a bag full of what I imagine to be pots of potions and clay creams that will magically start healing Dimitri.

What a hopeful dreamer I've become.

Dimitri isn't going to be better for weeks. The best we could hope for is he is somehow stabilised so we can get home – if we keep up this lifestyle of motels and stolen medical equipment from hospitals then Zmey is going to find us. Or worse, we'll be made to leave him behind.

I won't do that. Spiridon will have to drag me kicking and screaming. I suspect he would without care, and then probably throttle me or knock me out.

There's a sigh, "This man…this man cannot fly. A commercial flight will not have him aboard. There is nothing I can give him to pretend otherwise."

"I know that." Spiridon says. "What I need is assurance he won't die mid-flight."

"No airline will-"

"That" Spiridon snaps, "Is not what I'm asking."

There's silence in which I can't even hear Dimitri's breathing.

"I cannot assure you this." The alchemist says. "I can give you what you may need and God willing he might make it."

"God plays no part here."

"No, he does not with your kind."

Keith had been more hostile and forthright with his disgust of me and Dimitri when we went to him. The disgust from this Alchemist is all contained in that one sentence.

I keep my head down for the remainder of his time here and try to stop imagining him doing something sly to hurt Dimitri. Otherwise, Spiridon will have to knock me out because I won't just be kicking and screaming. I'll be lighting the fuse to burn the world down.

The Alchemist finally leaves an hour later, murmuring instructions to Spiridon about bottles and syringes. Spiridon watches him leave from behind the curtains.

"Get your things."

We drive for a few hours. Spiridon ignores my questions after telling me we are flying back to the states but to New York, not Montana. We take the duvet, the spare blankets and the pillows from the motel. He doesn't tell me why. He doesn't explain how we're getting Dimitri, who is unconscious in the back, onto a plane without humans being alarmed. He doesn't tell me anything and I actually think he has a gift to tune me out altogether.

I fall asleep irritated.

"I was starting to worry."

I blink into the sunlight, a warmer sun than I've known for days. Adrian smiles at me from the shade of a massive tree, clove smoke curling above his head.

"Should you be smoking near a tree?"

He snorts. "There are no fire hazards here my darling."

I think. "Can there be chocolate?"

He grins and suddenly the smell of Hershey's fills my nose. A bar is in my lap. "So tell me, has it been early starts or later nights?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've been trying to see you for a few days." He shrugs like it's no big deal and flicks his cigarette away.

"It's been both." I break off a square and offer it to him. He shakes his head.

"What have you done to your hair?" He says, reaching over to tug at it.

I bat him away, "It was supposed to be a… dramatic gesture. I don't think I got my point across."

"It's dramatic alright."

"It could be worse. I could smell."

"Smell?"

I make a show of coughing and he grins, lying back against the tree.

"You look tired." I comment.

"Speak for yourself. Seriously did you have a fight with a lawnmower?"

"I'll have a fight with you in a minute."

He laughs.

It's a refreshing sound.

I lie back on the grass, neighbouring his shade and soak up the sunshine. I'm aware there are horrible things waiting for me …outside? In the real world anyway but here in Adrian's dream (my dream?), everything seems so…far away. And I feel more relaxed than I can ever remember being.

"I asked after you but Victor was annoyingly vague."

"Victor?"

"Yes, at Court."

I sit up.

"I thought you were going to school."

"Hmmm, well something's happened. I'm not sure what but something – Victor has the collation all locked up in boardrooms which leaves my father quite distracted. So, he hasn't noticed I'm prolonging my summer holiday. Besides Andre tells me it's all dreadfully dull but I suspect he's lying."

Victor….Court…Lissa…Natalie…Spiridon. What was going on outside again? It's like trying to grasp water in an open palm.

"If you aren't in America. Where are you?"

"What?"

"I wouldn't go as far as to say I'm a great detective but grow up around chaos being managed in hushed voices you learn to dissect codes and more importantly, eavesdrop. That and Victor only has the one Guardian with him, your 'brother' whereas I haven't seen him without the blonde in about four years. Natalie is at school so he hasn't been charged to stand over her… so either he's dead or off on some sleuthing mission, which my father suspects or… I don't know. No sign of Goliath either."

I narrow my eyes, "Why are you so interested."

"You know when you get a loose thread in your jumper and you can't help but pull to see what unravels? You're like that thread."

If it wasn't for the fact he was staring off lazily into the distance I'd have pulled myself out, those words without context sound threatening. But I'd spent time with Adrian. He's restless, bored with everything, not happy to be spoon-fed lies so he can live comfortably with his luxuries – must be nice.

The truth wasn't mine to tell. I can't even remember what it is.

"And at least now, I know you're alright." He turns to me. "You are alright, aren't you?"

Well, it's not like he can help anyway, "Yes. I'm alright."

He watches me. "Liar."

"I'll be in New York soon. Or close to it."

"Why New York?"

"Honestly, I don't know. But we're coming back to Montana from there. Adrian, don't tell anyone okay?"

"Of course not. I told you, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Besides, no one cares to listen to what I have to say anyway." He winks but it doesn't cover how bleak he sounds.

"Are you okay?"

"Me? Of course. Well, I had to drink a bit more and dance a lot longer in order to still be asleep by this hour. I think it's the just gone nine here."

It strikes me again how this privileged boy is the loneliest person I've ever met. Not that I've met a lot of people but I've known worse off. I've been worse off but never alone in it.

"When are you flying?"

"Soon"

"So that'll be around ten hours…will you sleep?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll speak to you soon Little Dhampir."

The summer's day starts to shimmer and I fall back onto the grass.

"Out."

Cold air slaps my cheeks. I worry for a moment I've gone blind until my eyes start adjusting to the dark and then a great roaring fills the world. My scream is eaten up by it as I fall out of the car, finding out the hard way my doors open.

A great shape fills the sky as it passes over us, pitch-black against the navy, light points at the tip of its wings. I press back into the ground as the monster of a plane sink lower into the distance. My heart is hammering.

"Wet yourself?"

I look toward the sound of Spiridon's voice. His shape is outlined by the back of the car. I use the door to pull myself up on shaky legs.

"What kind of jet was that?"

"That is a cargo aircraft. And that's how we're getting home."

"But the Alchemist –"

"That plane carries cars back to the United States, not passengers. We are hitching a ride."

A great sense of dread pools in my stomach. All thoughts of cushy chairs and cheesecake brought by a Rachel-type lady dies.

In the dark Spiridon gives me the rundown of the plan. It's not much of a plan that consists of trying to get all three of us onto the plane carrier undetected, the two of us carrying Dimitri somehow, and if we are detected I have to get down while Spiridon shoots.

Great.

The carrier jet that just came in would be being unloaded now so low security would be around the one scheduled to go out in two hours. That information had come from Ben.

It was strange having more than one person to miss.

Spiridon leaves for thirty minutes with wire cutters. When he comes back we get back into the car and crawl along the road before driving into a field. My job is to hold up Spiridon's phone so he can follow a digital map that I guess Ben had sent over.

We creep closer to the airfield where the huge bunkers just get larger. Seeing the size of these planes makes the jet look like a paper aeroplane. How the hell did they get off the ground, how?

The car stops and Spiridon turns his phone off, instructs me to do the same and we slip out into the night.

My job is to carry the blankets we'd brought from the motel. I shouldn't complain because they weren't heavy, and Spiridon has to carry Dimitri, but they're bulky and it's so damn awkward. Especially with the backpack.

We get to the fence and I feel along until I find the cut section and pull it back. We cross to the other side and move as fast as possible. I anticipate someone shouting out in alarm or springing out from the shadows at us.

Spiridons breathing gets heavier.

It feels like an hour before we start getting close to the aircraft. There are a few people around it wearing fluorescent vests. Spiridon crouches down, eyes reflecting sliver like a cat with Dimitri slung over his back. I don't know how he's carrying him or how safe that is, I suspect Spiridon's drugged him because I doubt he'd put up with the indignity of being carried or how painful it must be.

"Five…Four…Three…Two…One."

There's a yell in the distance, someone shouting in Estonian and the sound of a revving engine. The people standing around our plane start jogging away towards it.

"Run."

I don't have a chance to ask where or voice how wrong it seems to run onto the tarmac, into the bright lights but that's exactly what he's doing. I run after him, toward the massive aircraft, heading for the ramp at its rear. It seems an age to get there and I try to imagine this plane next to Victor's house. I bet the plane is bigger.

I fall behind Spiridon little by little, my heart hammering, lungs tight, legs heavy. My arms begin to burn with the effort of holding into the huge bundle and despite everything I'm ashamed of it. I can't remember when I slept properly but that's no excuse, Spiridon has slept less and he's carrying Dimitri. He reaches the ramp first and sprints up it.

By the time I'm rounding the bottom it's taking all my will to not get down on all fours and crawl. I struggle up the metal hill, waiting for someone to catch me out and then our only plan would be ruined because I'm too weak to even -

Someone takes my elbow and starts pulling me up, forcing speed into my legs.

"Thank you." I wheeze out.

Spiridon grunts, his forehead shining.

When we reach the top, I don't care about pride, I fall against something to hold me up. It's a car. It's a huge jeep type and behind it is a sleeker, shinier black one.

"C'mon." Spiridon urges.

I follow him further into the belly of the plane where he stops by a truck and pulls back the tarp covering its cargo bed. Dimitri's lying there, motionless and undisturbed.

Spiridon takes the blankets from me and starts tucking them around Dimitri and now we're not running I notice how cold it is in here. I wouldn't admit but I'm grateful he'd thought of this, the blankets are made of coarse thick wool and would trap heat easier. He'd also stolen coats for us the day before and we'd wrestled Dimitri's duster onto him and buttoned it up.

"There'll be a medical box here somewhere. It'll have foil blankets we can use once we're in the air."

Without warning, he grabs me around the waist and lifts me onto the truck bed. The metal is bitingly cold through my jeans and I cringe as I scoot back to lie down beside Dimitri. Spiridon slides down next to me and fusses with the tarp until it's covering us. The only warm thing is our shared breath.

"What now?"

"We wait." Spiridon says.

That doesn't relax me. The stress and adrenaline doesn't ease despite how tired I physically am. Maybe it's because I'm sandwiched between the two of them…and one of them might die mid-flight.

No. That was not going to happen.

A faint light illuminates in the dark as Spiridon checks his watch.

"What did Ben do?"

"Hacked into something, caused a distraction. Probably made a car drive itself into a wall."

"He really is brilliant, isn't he?" I say quietly.

"If he weren't, he wouldn't work for Victor."

"So why do you?"

He smirks slightly.

Distantly I hear voices shouting and tense, becoming rigid when vibrations tremble through the hanger.

"They're bringing up the ramp." Spiridon explains, "We should take off in twenty. Stay quiet."

I close my eyes and try to think about anything else. I think about Lissa and Natalie and my room, Victor smiling when I've done a good job, making breakfast, the garden and Dimitri helping me wash up. All the things that had made my day up in my new life. A new life I'd barely had for two months.

My stomach drops as I feel the plane start to move and I imagine us being flung out of the truck when it lifts from the ground.

"Easy." Spiridon says calmly. "We're good."

Are we? Because we are in a flying container the size of a house with about six massive cars and god knows how they're strapped down and Dimitri's unconscious and we're not even flying home and the last thing I said to him was to be grateful.

I clench my fists as my ears pop.

We begin to tilt and I grip the side of the cab, one hand instinctively reaching out for Dimitri. Spiridon has an arm braced over him too, his jaw tense.

I swear I can feel it getting colder.

God, it's loud.

My hand inches down to make sure the blankets are tight around him, the metal beneath us bitingly cool. They're secure, of course, they are, Spiridon had done a good job.

My ears pop twice more before I feel us level out.

Spiridon lets out a long breath. "You handled that well. I was worried you were going to have a panic attack."

I try to think about a snarky reply but instead I admit, "I need to get up. I need out from under this."

Spiridon pulls the tarp back and slides out. I scramble after him trying not to jostle Dimitri. I take a long walk around the cars until my blood stops fizzing. When I get back to the truck Spiridon has slunk off somewhere. When he comes back he's got the foil blankets. We get back on the truck bed and Spiridon puts his bag under Dimitris's head. We sit on either side of him, foil blankets around us.

"Try to sleep."

"No." I say and before he can argue I add, "You're more exhausted than I am. And I'm willing to admit if we're going to get home, we need you to be on top form."

"How hard was that for you to say?"

I try to smile, "There's some bile in my mouth."

He chuckles. "Okay. Wake me if you hear anything or if a call comes through, or he needs something. Check his pulse every ten-fifteen minutes, and check his temperature. If he starts to burn loosen some blankets."

Within thirty seconds he's asleep.

I can't even disappear into my own thoughts because of the noise. So I stare at nothing and periodically check Dimitri's pulse and swallow the lump in my throat when I stare too long at him.

I think about Adrian and wonder what he's doing, who he's trying to force his annoying charm on. How does his ability works? There could be something in Victor's books about it or maybe Lissa's heard of it before. But how could I ask without making her suspicious? It's a pretty strange subject…

She hadn't called me, and neither had Natalie. Not even a text. Maybe Victor told them not to.

I shouldn't care but I do.

I scroll through my phone from past texts to photos. There aren't many. I have a few of the garden, some of Lissa and Natalie talking, of snacks, Natalie being cross-eyed, one of Ben pulling a face behind Spiridon's head and one of Natalie doing a thumbs up over a dinner I had made. She'd insisted I take it but in the background is Dimitri. His face is turned away. I zoom in as if it will change the vantage point but obviously it doesn't.

I wish I had a photograph of her. I worry I'm forgetting what she looks like, smells like… sounds like.

I wake Spiridon after three hours and slide out of the truck to stretch my stiff legs. I wander around the huge cavern, weaving between the cars and picking my favourites. I assign favourites to Lissa and Natalie too.

I stumble over a rise in the floor and my foot kicks a tyre cap on the closest car. It pops off and makes a loud clunk and then an awful metallic spinning noise. I scramble to grab it and when I do my heartbeat in my ears. I expect Spiridon to shout from the back but after a few seconds of silence, I exhale.

I crouch down to the tyre and…the inside is filled with white bags. I pull one out and the impressions my fingers make tell me it's powder. Baffled, I put it back and put the cap back on.

"What was that?" Spiridon asks when I reach our camp.

"I kicked a tyre by mistake and the metal bit came off." I feel the exasperation roll off him, "Why are there bags inside tyres?"

He looks away from his phone. "What?"

"White bags inside tyres." He's looking at me strangely. "Is it to help weigh the car down because of -"

"Show me."

I do and his expression drops off. "Sonvubitch."

He pulls the cap off another tyre and swears again.

"What? What does it mean?"

He stands up and the Guardian mask is on. Chills march down my spine that has nothing to with the temperature.

"Get back to the truck."

I do.

I try to keep my breathing regular and press against Dimitri as much as I dare. I put my foil blanket across us both. I jump at the rustle of the tarp as Spiridon climbs back under.

I wait for an explanation.

"The Alchemist has set us up in the middle of a drug run." His jaw is set. "Which means landing is going to going to have a welcome party."

Oh great.

"Luckily, I have a plan. Unfortunately...it belongs in a really bad action movie."

I fucking hate the plan. It's a bad joke. I tell him it's a bad joke and that just makes him smirk. I argue with him but he does that thing where he tunes my voice out and starts putting the plan into action. I follow him around the hanger but I may as well be a ghost.

In a few hours, I might be.

I follow him to the ladder that leads up to the upper deck. I shout my argument up at him as he jams the door with a pipe.

He slides down the rungs in a way I only wished I could have tried back at the Ozera library. "Shut up. Here's what I need you to do."

I press my fingers into my eyes as he tells me how we're going to try and keep Dimitri safe.

"This is insane. We're going to die." Blue spots appear as my hands drop.

Spiridon looks thoughtful. "Maybe. But a positive attitude and willpower will do wonders." He claps my shoulder and starts removing tyre caps from cars, tossing out blocks of drugs. "Either go sleep or help me."

I help but only because throwing the white blocks helps with the anger.

"Hurl that at the wall again and I'll kill you." He shouts. "The last thing I need is you to be high off your fucking ass."

"YOU MIGHT BE ABOUT TO KILL ME ANYWAY." I scream back, the noise of the plane softening my voice.

He laughs and my vision goes red. I hurl a block at him and it does not go well.

Three hours drag and yet fly by.

Back inside the truck Dimitri is strapped in and secured in the backseat and I'm in the passenger's seat. I try not to think about those bruises mapping his body, how fragile he is and now...now we're about to do something that could make it worse.

Spiridon is near the back of the plane's belly, studying his watch as my heart is a steady thud in my ears.

I wonder what Ben would think in this situation or even Dimitri for that matter. Would they agree? I think not but what the hell do I know? They allow themselves to be battered black and blue and run around fighting people.

Spiridon's already removed the ties from the cars ahead of our truck. Two of them are now free to slide around and crash into anything they like, including us. Thankfully they haven't moved.

I stare at the clock on my phone as it gets closer to the hour. The gravity shifts in the truck and I drop my phone.

We're descending.

I glance at Spiridon, he hasn't moved, still staring at his watch as I snatch my phone from the floor. The cars in front don't move but he said they shouldn't because the brakes are on.

I look at the time. Three minutes.

We've made it this far, please let us make it home. Please let Dimitri live.

The time hits the hour.

Spiridon looks up and nods at me. Then he starts messing with the control box for the ramp. The mechanical grind of it opening is quickly swallowed by the air crashing into the hanger space. Spiridon's hair flattens to his head as he starts to move across to the first car. I imagine it rolling forward and crushing him to the bonnet before they both are thrown into the open air.

My heartbeat gets louder.

The ramp finally gives way to being a large window to…nothing. Just vast space.

I will myself not to throw up.

Spiridon wrestles open the car's door and in seconds it starts to roll backwards. He gets out but is knocked back by the wind. He uses the abandoned harnesses to right himself and gets a foothold. I watch unable to help but be impressed as he scales the floor to get to the other car. The first one is now near the edge of the opening and then it's gone, launched out into the open air.

It doesn't seem real.

Spiridon reaches the second to repeat the process.

This is crazy. This is insane. We are going to die.

He's out of the second car and has an easier time of it. The shiny blue convertible starts its journey to the end.

Spiridon tackles his way to the truck and when he reaches the driver's door I brace myself. The wind rips into the car like something possessed. I grip my seatbelt and reach across to grab his jacket, not that I have much muscle power.

He hauls the door closed. His hair...well his hair is back to looking like how he normally styles it.

He looks over at me. "Ready?"

"No."

"Yeah. Same."

I blink and then my voice lets out some of the hysteria I'm feeling, "This was your idea!"

"Doesn't mean it's a good one."

Oh, I'm going to throw up.

The last thing I see of the convertible is its dark underbelly as it's pulled out into the open sky. A few seconds later I swear I hear it crash but I could be imagining it, it's impossible to hear anything over the noise of the wind.

Spiridon's eyes are trained ahead, waiting for the sky to give way to the earth.

"Spiridon."

Then there it is, a grey line of tarmac lined with lights, grass on either side and a break of orange in the distance to indicate the sunrise. Spiridon connects two ends of the exposed wire and under me, the seat gives the gentlest purr.

"Spiridon."

His mask is on. He doesn't hear me. I look into the back and pray Dimitri is secure enough and this doesn't break his neck.

Behind him, a small movement catches my eye. "Spiri- "

The window explodes. My scream is stolen by the wind.

I feel the car jerk as Spiridon releases the hand brake and keeps us in reverse as he waits for the right moment. He reaches across and pushes my shoulder down. I glimpse two figures out on the deck, they must be shooting at us.

The hanger door shows the picture of the ground below getting bigger, the tarmac swelling in size as we get closer to the ground.

Spiridon yells something that doesn't make any sense before it feels like we're launching forward. I think I'm screaming. Then we're out of the hanger and my stomach jolts, we bump onto the ramp and it sparks as it hits the tarmac and drags. Then we fly off it and we're suspended in the air – a lifetime wrapped in a second.

We hit the tarmac. I know we hit it as I'm flung forward, the seat belt tries to cut me half before angrily throwing me back against the headrest. Black spots. Ringing in my ears. I can't feel my body.

It all comes back at once.

"ROSE, WILL YOU CHECK HIM!"

Dumbly I scrabble around in my seat and let my eyes rake over Dimitri. It looks like Spiridon's handiwork with the seat belts and spare harnesses worked. Or maybe he's dead.

"He's fine." I hear myself say. "There's no blood."

Behind him, through the shattered window, I can see smoke and a huge plane in the distance, it's landed but there's a fire. Cars are rushing to it.

I turn around and for some reason, it's surprising to see the bonnet bent up oddly and blood streaked across Spiridons forehead, but it doesn't even phase me when we smash through a barrier before careening out onto a road.

"That," Spiridon begins when we get onto the highway, "Is why I love my job."

I stare ahead at nothing. "Shut up."

I don't know how long has passed before we pull into a diner off the highway.

The world is too quiet despite the rush of cars. I feel like we should be speeding or I should be running even though I don't feel entirely capable of doing anything, of even lifting my hand. I feel unstable and yet ready.

That's adrenaline for you.

Spiridon slowly and awkwardly gets out of our wreck. The bonnet is leaking steam. An older woman stops on her way to the diner entrance and says something to him. He tells her to piss off.

I make myself climb out.

We stand there for a while not saying anything as the adrenaline ebbs. My phone starts to ring and I pull it out and offer it to Spiridon.

"White?" He says. "Yeah...Just about...I'll explain later. Where are we headed?" He stands up straighter. "What? Who told her?"

I can't find it in me to react to his sudden change of body language.

"Right… send me the coordinates. There are medics, right? He's stable, just about but we need to be looked at too. Let's just say I made my own Jason Statham movie."

He hangs up and turns to me. "Pick a car, any car."

We're stealing again and in broad daylight. Great. I point at the closest one and he pushes off our wreck.

I don't know how we got away with it. Moving Dimitri out of a war zone wreck into someone else's preppy little yellow one, who had to be inside enjoying some pancakes or waffles, looking like two hospital escapees. No one says anything to us. No one comes out shouting. No one has chased us from the plane.

The radio plays a pop song as Spiridon drives and I try to follow the words but I can't recall a single one.

"Ten minutes." Spiridon says in a low voice.

I don't even ask 'until what?'. I don't know where we're going. I can't find it in me to care much. I look back at Dimitri. I want to brush his hair out of his face but I can't reach from here. I should have gotten in the back with him.

Something familiar comes into view in the sky. "Another plane? Are you serious?"

"Private jet this time."

Hope ignites in my stomach. "Are they here? Ben?"

"No."

And it dies.

There's a checkpoint and it's refreshing to hear an American voice. They clear us and we drive out onto the open tarmac and toward a white jet.

Thank god we're near the end of this. We're nearly home. It doesn't seem real.

There is a cluster of people waiting around by the steps and as we get closer they start moving toward us. Two are pushing a flatbed on a trolley.

Our car stops and they're already opening the rear doors. "What are they-"

Spiridon's already out and jabbering away instructions as they lift Dimitri out of the car. I rip my seatbelt off and more or less fall out after him.

I try to tell them to be careful, my fingers itching to bat their hands away, it seems wrong, they don't know how badly he's hurt but the only thing that holds me back is Spiridon is trusting them. They put him on the trolley and push him toward the jet.

Numbly I follow.

There's a pattern on the jet that tugs at my mind, but the sunlight is blinding me to the whole image but as I get closer it becomes clear.

I know that pattern. I know that crest.

Someone grips my elbow.

"Rose, it's time to go." The urge to flee is bubbling, I'm leaning away from his grip. Spiridon's eyes are worn metal. "They're not here."

"That's theirs. That's -"

"They are not here." He yanks me forward after I step back. "Get on the plane."

I can't. He doesn't understand that I can't.

Spiridon turns me away from their symbol. His hands are on my shoulders but they aren't biting in as I would expect. The grey holds my attention. "Rose, Belikov needs help. I need you to get on that plane. I need you to hold it together like you have been. They are not here, I swear."

I don't know if it's the intensity of his gaze or his voice. I don't know if it's how clearly he stresses all the things needed or that he swears they aren't waiting inside. But I take deep breaths and make my feet carry me forward, Spiridon shadowing me.

One step up and then another until I'm inside the Ozera's plane.

They're not here.

I allow myself to be manoeuvred and pushed into a seat by a small blonde girl. Sunlight glints off her face. She looks pissed off or like she smells something bad. Maybe I smell. I can't remember when I last showered. She asks me something but I can't hear her. I watch three people working around Dimitri at the back.

"My shoulders dislocated." I hear myself say.

"Take my hand." I do and she starts rotating my arm. "This is going to hurt."

"It's not the first time."

The pop makes me curl in on myself. She pushes me upright and I let her do whatever she needs to. At some point, it clicks that these people are all Alchemists.

I look across the aisle. "Is he going to die?"

Spiridon's eyes are trained behind me, where they're working on Dimitri. "After all this? Not a chance."

I hang onto that.

My chest is tight and I tug at the bandages through all my clothes. I want them off. They were filthy with sweat. I'm halfway through fighting to loosen them when I remember why I can't.

I drop my hands and heat crawls around my neck.

I don't register the plane taking off or the journey. I don't feel entirely present but I watch Spiridon watching Dimitri. I drink water that's brought to me and eat whatever is set in front of me.

I'm sick of cars. I'm sick of travelling. I want to be inside the green bedroom, I want my bed, I want to shower, I want this journey to be fucking over.

Seeing familiar signs and stores fly past the window is helping the agitation. Sort of. The green helps. All the green is back. And it means we're getting closer.

"Is Dimitri dead?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

Spiridon sighs. Maybe I'd asked that too many times. I wince as the seatbelt bites into my shoulder as I lean forward. We turn into the private road that leads to Victor's house. I feel like at any moment I could wake up and this will all be gone.

Then there it is.

The car stops and everyone files out. Numbly I step out and breathe in that fresh, crisp pine. I grip the car to steady myself. Safe, we were about to feel safe again for the first time in days.

Someone, a Moroi woman, steps out onto the porch, two people in white flanking her before they run over the flagstones to where Dimitri's being moved on his stretcher.

I feel everything in me still.

"Get inside the house, Rose." Spiridon calls.

I don't move. How can I? She tucks her hair behind her ears as she watches everything in the driveway. Her bangs have grown out. She stands aside as they push Dimitri through the door and then follows them inside.

Spiridon's pissed face takes up my vision.

"Why is she here?"

"She sent the plane." He says levelly.

"She...she did?"

"Yes."

"She's in the house."

No longer a haven.

"Go inside. Now."

The blonde Alchemist from the plane appears at his elbow. I don't hear what she says but maybe because my feet are walking me backwards but I don't want to go backwards. I need to stay with Dimitri.

What if he's dying?

Spiridon grabs me and I try to push him off.

"Is she concussed? She's babbling." He's not talking to me. "Do I slap her?"

"Is your answer to everything violence?" The Alchemist snaps.

"What do you propose? We pray?"

"I need to run." Spiridon is now looking at me like I'm crazy but he doesn't understand. I feel like I need to run out of my skin but I can't leave Dimitri. He wouldn't leave me. "GET OFF ME!"

"Rose, you are in shock and the best thing for you to do now is to go inside the house. You can get a shower, get into fresh clothes and get into your bed." The blonde says holding up her palms. Her hazel eyes are not as kind as her voice. Alchemists hate our kind.

I glare at her before turning back to Spiridon. "Where's Natalie?"

"At school. Get inside." I don't move. I can't think. "Fine." He releases me and stalks away. After an awkward minute, the Alchemist follows.

I stay there unable to move. The rain starts at some point. I should go inside. I belong in there more than she does… don't I?

I'd driven us to the motel. I'd helped Spiridon change his IV and morphine, I'd kept watch when Spiridon slept, I'd checked his pulse, I'd given him water, I'd wiped the blood off him. I'd made silent promises we'd get him home and do whatever it was Spiridon told me to.

So why am I standing outside?

I could run. I could run down the drive, past the wards and keep following the road. I could disappear. I could let the world swallow me up and find my new place in it.

But I can't leave him. Or Natalie. Or Lissa.

Numbly my feet carry me to the door and a Guardian I don't recognise opens it. They've pushed all the living room furniture out of the way and set up a mini-hospital. They've even got those curtain dividers up. I drift up to my room. Ignoring all the noise behind me in the living room. I hear Spiridon shouting my name.

I close the door, sealing the noise out as I turn the lock.

My bed is exactly how I left it. Natalie's cardigan is lying on the bay seat.

It smells the same.

It hasn't changed.

But I have.

I'd left here made naïve because of this room. It had become a haven to me, a bubble to escape the violence. Then I left it and the real world woke me up. Then I returned to my 'haven' only to have Natasha Ozera waiting in the god damn driveway. I slide to the floor and hug my knees. I let it all wash over me. The pain, the terror, the stress, the confusion, the anger and the helplessness – everything I'd held at bay. I let it drag me under and I drown it but I do not break.

Later, when I resurface I crawl into my bed.

I ignore knocking on the door, the mixed voices calling through it but I tune them out. The bandages are biting at me, my jeans uncomfortable, jumper and coat bulky and making me sweat. I wriggle out of them all and curl up.

I'm so tired but I can't find sleep so I wait until it finds me, letting my thoughts and emotions rage together. I would not let an Ozera terrorize me ever again, they have no rights, no power over me. I would not serve her or succumb to the fear of what she represents.

I have come so far. I have been so free. This is my space. I am learning, I am fighting, I am made of iron and I am full of rage and it's in that fire I'm sure of myself.

I am tempering.

updated on 18/04/2022