Dear Diary,

I am stealing a few minutes to record what just happened, but it will be rushed as I must hurry to dress for the ball. My head still aches a bit from the strange dream I had last night; it wasn't one of my prophetic ones, but somehow it left me tired and dazed, just the same. I dreamed about the former queen—maybe because I spent so much time in her garden yesterday. She was stroking my hair the way Mama used to do, with such a sad, tormented look on her face that I wanted to reach out and hug her—not that I would, mind you, I mean... she was a queen. Not one like Lissa, who insists on informality, but the kind that was proper and reserved, wanting everyone to know their place. Still… it made my heart ache to see her so very sad. When I woke up enough to function I ate a quick snack, then spend the rest of the day pacing. I did not leave my apartment at all, waiting impatiently for the delivery of my dress. As the hours passed I became more and more panicked, but finally, late in the afternoon it arrived—along with an assortment of other things that left me completely shocked.

I found out what Lissa and Joy were whispering about that day when I modeled the dresses—Lissa had decided the few dressed she had selected were simply not enough, so they'd made note of what looked good and ordered several different colors in each of the styles, along with a few things I hadn't even seen. There are so many that they wouldn't even fit in my tiny closet back home in Baia. It wasn't just me either—mama called up in an uproar, having received such a delivery too. I told her we should leave it until tomorrow to worry about and focus on the most important thing first—the party, tonight.

When I finally calmed Mama down enough to get her off the phone, I allowed myself the luxury of a long, leisurely bath—but I didn't use any of the fancy bath salts or perfumed bubbles that sat along the back ledge of the tub; instead I used a few drops of ylang-ylang oil—my grandmother had pushed it in my hand yesterday as we left the spa, muttering that it would guarantee an enchanting evening. I am skeptical of that… but we'll soon see.

I had just finished my bath when someone pounded at my door—it was my grandmother, determined to help me prepare for the evening. She carried a small wooden box in her hands; it was decoratively carved and small enough to easily fit in her palm. When I inquired about it she waved me off, telling me to be patient. I waited while she settled herself on the couch, but my curiosity was overflowing.

"Our family has very few heirlooms—a handful of things that my own grandmother saved and passed down to me from her own mother's mother. She had the sight as well, so she knew what would be needed. One by one I have given them to your siblings… and now it is time for me to pass on that which was meant to be yours."

I eyed the small box, wondering what it might be; this was the first I'd heard of my brother and sisters receiving gifts. "What did the others get?"

"Your sisters received small trinkets for themselves—a brooch for Karolina and a bracelet for Sonya. Dimka—"

"So you're giving me a gift that's not for me?"

"If you would let me finish without interrupting Viktoria, you would learn the answer to that question." She gave me a reproachful look, reaching up to take my hand and tugging me down beside her. "Dimitri was given combs—a gift for the woman who would one day win his heart to wear in the beautiful hair he loves. And for you, granddaughter… a gift for your kotik."

I shot her a reproachful look. "I have no cat and I never will. They won't come near me."

"You will. I have seen him. A tom cat with sable colored fur and brilliant, beautiful eyes… of course you are all too aware that sometimes things aren't always what they appear to be in visions." She held out the box and I took it tentatively, a little unsure of what might be inside. Cracking it open, my chest tightened as tingles raced up my spine—a hint of premonition, though I didn't know why. It was just a plain looking silver ring.

"A ring? For a cat? That makes no sense." I removed it from the box, holding it in my palm; it was heavy, obviously handcrafted—and so big it wouldn't even fit on my thumb. "This is the second time you've mentioned this cat—I don't understand…"

"When the time is right, you will. Now go put it away child, somewhere safe—and bring back your hairbrush. I didn't just come to deliver your gift—I came to help you prepare for tonight."

"But—"

"Always so argumentative! When will you learn to just listen when I speak? Now hurry! We haven't much time and tonight… tonight has the makings of being the kind of night you dream about Vika."

I didn't argue further—it was pointless. With grandmother, there is only one option… and that is to obey. I hurried to the bedroom, burying the box beneath my underwear in the dresser drawer then snatched up my brush, returning to settle myself at her feet. She brushed my hair the way she used to do when I was a child—long, sweeping strokes from the root to the tip, smoothing her hand along my scalp to make sure it didn't tug or snarl and hurt me. Stroke after stroke she brushed, softly humming an old gypsy melody that I remembered her singing from my childhood; it was almost hypnotic, a calming sensation that soothed my nerves about the party and allowed my mind to drift back to the thing that had been puzzling me since we'd arrived.

"Something has been on your mind lately, I can tell. Go ahead and ask whatever it is kotyonok, otherwise I fear you may never stop wondering about it."

I bit my lip, instinctively knowing she wouldn't like the subject matter; just because she had been willing to discuss things yesterday, today things might be different. "I am wondering… why it is you don't approve of us going into service… but you have no problem with Roza being Guardian to the queen."

"Our Roza serves the way dhampirs were meant to. Out of love and a deep desire to protect her Moroi. It is the way things used to be done in the old days… before they started assigning us out to Royals based solely on their rank and wealth."

"Was that how it was for you? Did you serve someone you loved?"

"No. I very much wanted to… but his father knew of our affair and did everything he could to keep me away from his son. Even back then they were picking and choosing where we went, assigning us to the ones they favored. They assigned me to a man closely related to Queen Ekaterina—he was one of those Royals that think dhampir women are good for only one thing. Before a few months were up I despised the ground he walked on, even before he…"

When her voice trailed off, I waited hoping she would continue—but she didn't. "Before he what?"

"He killed the Moroi I loved… your grandfather… right in front of my eyes. I was prostrate with grief, cradling Anton in my arms when he attempted to turn his rage on me as well."

"You defended yourself? Is that why you left service? For striking a Royal Moroi?" I glanced over my shoulder at her, and was stunned by the expression of grief on her face. My grandmother was always stoic, hiding away her emotions so well that no one ever knew what she was thinking, but in that moment… she looked completely shattered, lost in memories of the past.

"Ah, Viktoria… you have no idea what it is to lose the one who holds your heart. I could not move… could not think of anything other than the fact I had lost the one thing in life that mattered." Her voice was soft, her eyes filled with tears that overflowed, streaming down her wrinkled cheeks. "He would have beaten me…forced himself on me I think, if I had not screamed out that I was with child."

"But… why did he kill him?"

"Anton came to me, asking me to be his wife; he was willing to turn his back on his family and follow the path his heart demanded—and together we went to tell Vasily he would need a new Guardian. Because he could not have what he wanted… because I refused to bow to him but would willingly give myself to another… he was enraged. Some Royal men think they can take whatever they want, kotyonok; they refuse to acknowledge or accept the word 'no'. The ones who treat us with respect and decency are rare… at least, they were in my day. Anton was one… I can only think of a handful more that were actually worth the sacrifice dhampirs make for them. Perhaps now things are different, but I look at what happened with Olena…. what happened with Soyna and almost to you as well—" She shook her head, wiping her palm along her cheek to remove the wetness of her tears, "— and I think not much has changed."

"You know about that? What happened with Rolan?" My cheeks flushed with embarrassment as I hid behind my hair.

"Yes. I know I owe Ibrahim a great debt for saving you."

"Roza made him do it… and I was very horrible to her afterwards."

"She has forgiven you, yes? So why dwell on it?" Her hand slid beneath my chin, tipping my head back so I had to look her in the eye. "What I have said here… it remains between us. I do not want your mother to know what happened that day. I do not want her imagining her father burned alive before my eyes. The point of my tale… is that we should only serve where our hearts lead us. The ones we love… close friends and family. Anything else is a travesty."

"What happened to him? The Moroi you served? Did they punish him?"

Her eyes darkened, her face taking on a look of coldness I'd never seen before. "Vasily told them he was defending himself—that Anton attacked him for no reason. They believed him because your grandfather… he was prone to spells that left him… unpredictable at times. Vasily was let off with only a warning against using magic in such a manner again. After that… he often frequented establishments in unsafe places. A week after he killed my Anton… he disappeared, without a trace. I left service the next day and returned to Baia to await the birth of my child."

"But—"

"I killed him Viktoria. With the stake Anton gave me the day I received my promise mark—and I have never regretted my actions that day. I would do it again if I could."

I said nothing, though my mind was whirring. I simply reach to take her hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Well? Have I shocked you speechless? Tell me what you are thinking girl, or must I guess what it is I see in your eyes?"

"I think… perhaps I now know why you and Roza are constantly butting heads. You and she… you are two of a kind. If someone harmed Dimka… she would do the exact same thing."

She laughed, sliding her hand from mine to tuck a strand of hair back behind my ear. "Oh no… I think our Roza would be much more brutal—she is her father's daughter, after all. She would draw out their agony for days. But Vika… you are not so different. Someday you will understand how love can drive you to do unexpected things."

"I hope you are right. Sometimes I fear I will die an old main, alone and unloved."

"There is nothing wrong with being alone—it teaches you to be strong. You will learn that too… and how when things seem at their darkest, dawn is just within reach." Her eyes flicked away from my face, up to the clock on the wall and she made a sound of dismay. "Time flies so fast. You used the ylang-ylang… that is good. Run and put on your dress—but no jewelry. And not much make up—just a touch of mascara on your eyes and some clear gloss on your lips."

"But it is a fancy party! A ball! Surely I can wear a little more than that?"

"No! I have seen this night a hundred times child. You will do exactly as I say—now go." She shoved me away, slowly rising to her feet. "Hair down long and loose, caressing bare shoulders. I must dress myself so I am trusting you to follow my instructions—don't let me down."

She was almost to the door when I summoned up the courage to ask the burning question that was playing through my mind. "Grandmother… the body. What did you do with it?"

She paused, her hand on the door, but she didn't turn to face me. "There are still many wild, hungry beasts in the woods of our homeland Viktoria. They feasted well on that long ago night—just as they will do in the future on one of Vasily's kin."

A prickle of unease danced along my skin as she left me; I couldn't help but wonder what she had seen to make her add on the last part of her statement. I said a silent prayer that I would never have cause to find out what she meant, crossing myself as I hurried to my bedroom to dress for Lissa's ball.

When I met up with Mama and Yeva in the lobby a short while later, I am not ashamed to admit that happy tears sprang up in my eyes; never before had I seen my mother looking so, so beautiful—she looked like she could be a queen herself, and my grandmother looked just as elegant standing at her side. "Mama! You look so pretty!"

She turned to face me, her hand rushing up to cover her mouth as she let out a gasp of surprise. "Viktoria! Look at her Mama! Look at my baby girl!"

Yeva looked me over from head to toe, her face breaking out in a wide, beaming smile. "It is just as I saw… you are a vision kotyonok. There will be many hearts broken tonight—but more importantly, a heart won."

"I really look okay?" I ran my hand over the skirt of my dress, wishing I hadn't eaten quite so much throughout the day. Even with the alterations that had been made, the dress was still a little tight.

"You will be the most beautiful girl in the room. And that dress! It is magnificent! The Queen has wonderful taste." Mama ran her fingers along my hair, smoothing it into place.

I laughed, shaking my head. "I think you are biased… you have to say that—but Lissa did not pick this out… Roza's father did. He bought it for me too… and you don't want to know how much it cost."

Abe? But… why?" Mama looked as astonished as I'd been at the news.

"I don't know. The lady in the shop said—"

"He knew what to look for—leave it at that." Yeva smiled smugly, straightening the delicate looking shawl draped over her shoulders."

"You told him? Mama… you know he will consider it a favor owed." My mother's brow wrinkled with worry at the thought.

"No. He was repaying a debt. Now come children—it looks like our escort is here."

I followed her eyes, surprised to see the handsome young dhampir from the spa coming through the entryway, dressed in a tux. "Good evening ladies. I think I'm the luckiest man in Court tonight—I certainly have the most beautiful date."

I stood a little straighter, smiling at the comment, but Yeva took the wind out of my sails before I could speak. "Don't preen Viktoria—it's not becoming. Besides, he meant me. Ambrose is my date—it's up to you to find your own."

My mother burst out laughing as she slid her arm through mine. "The look on your face Vika… but she is right—we should get going so you can find someone to dance with. I don't think Mama is willing to share."

"Definitely not." Yeva gave us a haughty look as she took Ambrose's arm, tugging him out the door without waiting to see if we would follow.

"Is she serious?" I whispered to mama as we trailed after them to the car waiting at the curb.

"Of course. She took one look at him and declared he had wise eyes—then told him he would be her date tonight and not to argue. Obviously… he didn't."

Climbing into the car I shook my head, ignoring my grandmother as she snapped at me for sitting too close to 'her' man. I had a feeling this was definitely going to be a night to remember. Despite the fact we were not terribly late, the party was well under way when we arrived; we were made even later when the Moroi at the door rudely detained us.

"Invitations?"

"Excuse me?" Mama's brow wrinkled in confusion, her eyes dropping to his outstretched hand.

"Your invitations—they are required for entry." The tone of his voice telegraphed his disbelief that we were meant to attend.

"Mr. Mazur invited us verbally… we didn't receive formal invitations." Mama glanced at the line that had formed behind us, then back to the man at the door. "If you could just—"

"Step to the side please—so the invited guests can enter." He turned to the couple behind us, cutting off her request.

"There's no need to be rude—" Ambrose spoke up, his handsome face set in a frown. "This can be cleared up easily enough if—"

"This… is a party for the Queen—not the type of gathering your kind is meant to attend."

I'm not sure if it was his ugly words that awoke my temper—or the way the man behind us tried to elbow his way past my mama, though the later certainly fanned that anger from a slow burn into a furious blaze. I reached out, grabbing the doorman's forearm, giving it a threateningly tight squeeze. "Abe is already going to be displeased that you've kept us waiting at the door, sir—imagine how angry he will be when I tell him you've insulted us as well. I suggest you send someone to fetch him before his daughter comes looking for us—unless you want things to get extremely ugly, very fast."

He glared at me as I released his arm, but my display had the desired effect; he turned to the man beside him, doing what I asked and sending him to find our host. We didn't have to wait long before a large, familiar figure appeared in the doorway with an irritated scowl on his face—immediately my eyes dropped to the ground; I could feel my cheeks flush bright red.

It was Pavel—someone I'd hoped I would never encounter again—the man who had forcibly removed me from the party I'd been attending with Rolan.

"Man are you in for a world of hurt. The boss said to tell you they're family… and that he's going to be dealing with you later—personally." He smirked, beckoning us forward, propping the door open with his foot, still staring at the Moroi man.

I moved past him, trying to remain inconspicuous, but unfortunately for me, my attempt was completely in vain; the look of amusement on his face shifted and he let out a low whistle. " Well, well… who'd have guess you'd clean up so nicely, little sister. That dress is a hell of a lot sexier than that trashy get up you had on the last time I saw you. You look… classy. The way a beautiful girl should look."

I paused, not sure whether I should ignore his rough, double handed compliment or not; he'd brought up the night I'd been determined to forget, so there was no point trying to avoid it. I leaned closer, my voice a hushed whisper so my family couldn't overhear. "You may not believe it, but I appreciate what you did that night… though I hated you at the time. Thank you for stopping me from making a big mistake."

I turned to walk away but his hand on my elbow stopped me; arching a brow I looked back at him, my lips tugging up in a smile at the confused look on his face. "Yes?"

"Pretty sure your dance card is gonna fill up fast… but maybe you could save a spot for me. Seeing as how we're sorta old friends and all. I'm not hitting on you—I just like dancing."

His bashfulness was endearing, making my smile widen. "Why Mr. Pavel… you are acting like this is the first time you have asked a woman to dance."

"Nah… but it's the first time I've asked one that looks like a lady." He winked at me, tilting his head. "Besides, I'm willing to bet your brother would rather you dance with me than one of those Moroi men in there."

"You are probably right…and I would be very honored to dance with you—though I must say I think you are overestimating how many people will be wanting to dance with me. There are so many beautiful women here at court that I am sure I will go unnoticed."

"Vika! Stop chattering and come along child—you hold us up for no reason!"

Yeva's voice was loud and insistent, so I gave him an apologetic look , hurrying to catch up with the others as they headed down the long corridor that led to the grand ballroom. When we stepped inside, I couldn't help but gasp; it was amazing—like something out of one of the English fairy tales Mama and Dimka read to me when I was small. The ballroom was a wonderland, with tiny lights spread throughout the room; they twinkled from the centerpieces on the tables and were wound throughout the greenery that wrapped around the tall, floor to ceiling columns that lined the perimeter of the room. The soft light reflected off of the fresh flowers that covered every available surface—all white, sprinkled with something that made them gleam as if they had been brushed with gold dust. Their sweet perfume filled the air, so faint and sweet, in competition with the tiny incense censers that the servers had on their trays. And the food… dear God the food. So, so much of it—pastries so light and flakey they looked like they would practically melt on your tongue, and savory dishes that filled the air around the servers with the aroma of meat and spices.

My eyes darted around, trying to find the queen; I couldn't wait to see what she'd decided to wear for such a fancy occasion. When I spotted her I wasn't disappointed—she looked beautiful and regal, fitting in perfectly with the story book setting around us. Her hair was swept back in a mass of pale blonde curls, with a sparkling tiara holding them back from her face. It caught the twinkling lights from the room, making it sparkle as she moved.

"Mama… look at Lissa… she is so beautiful!" I tugged on my mother's arm, pointing so she'd know where to look.

"Oh she does! And look at Roza!"

I'd been so enraptured by Lissa in her long, silver dress that I'd completely overlooked my brother's girlfriend—who was standing at the queen's side; as soon as my eyes found her, any self-confidence I'd been feeling vanished on the spot. Her dress was black with no adornments, a halter style that fastened behind her neck, leaving her toned, sculpted arms and shoulders bare. She looked understated and elegant—leaving me feeling almost gaudy and overdressed in comparison.

When she turned to speak to one of the Guardians that flanked them, I added another description to the assessment I had made. Sexy. The dress was completely backless, plunging so low that you could see the shadowy swell of her ass.

"I thought she would be in uniform, wanting to be armed so she could protect Lissa," Mama said, eyeing the Guardians that fanned out as soon as Roza finished speaking to them.

I watched as they approached, my eyes catching a glint of metal as the thigh high slit of Roza's skirt spread when she moved. "She is armed… look at her leg."

"Olena! You look beautiful! And Vika—that dress is amazing!" Lissa was bubbly and full of excitement as she reached out pulling my mother into a quick embrace.

My eyes were locked on Roza, still studying her dress. "I don't remember you trying that dress on when we were shopping. It is very—"

"Revealing? Yeah, I know… and I didn't try it on. Lissa sprung it on me this afternoon. She said she wanted me off duty tonight and she didn't trust me not to smuggle in a weapon." She huffed in irritation at the smug look on her best friend's face.

"Sorry, but I know you too well. The only way to make sure you're unarmed is to insure there's no place to hide something."

"She's not unarmed," I said softly, arching a brow as I met Roza's stunned gaze.

"Of course she is—there's no way she could…" Lissa's voice trailed off as I reached down and pushed apart the folds of fabric on either side of the high slit. "Oh for God's sake Rose! Really?"

Roza shrugged, brushing my hand away as she readjusted the material to hide the gun. "Better safe than sorry. I'm sure Abe's got the place secure… but I'm not willing to chance it. How'd you know?"

She gave me a quizzical look that made me feel smug; for once I knew something she didn't when it came to safety and protection. "When you moved, the light caught the metal of the holster's buckle. You should have painted over it with a matte black color so it wouldn't be reflective."

"Damn… I didn't even think of that. Good job Vik."

"Didn't they teach you about concealed carry at school? I thought all the academies had the same curriculum they had to follow—for the novices, at least."

"Yeah but it was focused on our being in uniform. They didn't exactly cover what to do when you were practically naked."

"St. Basil's tests us on hiding weapons in the most efficient ways while in formal clothing. If you want… I can send you copies of my class notes when I go back to school."

She smiled, her eyed brightening at the thought. "Thanks! That'd be awesome!"

"Only you would get all excited over the thought of hiding weapons." Christian made a face, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling.

"Better that than getting all worked up over a damn pot holder or candy thermometer," she shot back, scowling at him.

"Do not start you two! Not tonight!" Lissa chastised them, grabbing Christian's arm and pointing across the room. "There's Eddie…he looks uncomfortable, doesn't he? Let's go say hi,"

Roza grinned at me as she trailed after them, her smile widening as her eyes darted upward to a spot above my head. "Uh oh… told you he'd have a problem with the dress."

I stared after her, confused as she scurried away, then jumped out of my skin when my brother spoke, right behind me.

"Viktoria?"

I turned to face him, smiling at the look of astonishment on his face. "Were you expecting someone else? Karolina or Sonya maybe?"

"No… you just look… so grown up. What happened to my tiny baby sister?" He reached down, taking my hands, then stepped back, studying my outfit. "You look very beautiful… though I am not sure I approve of the dress. You are showing entirely too much skin for my liking."

"Me? What about your girlfriend? My dress is modest compared to hers—you can almost see her ass!"

"Yes, but neither of us had any say in what she wore—Lissa demanded it. Not to mention… no one here would dare touch my Roza." His eyes darted over to his girlfriend, his lips curving up in a slow, secretive smile. "Besides Vika… it is one thing for a man to see his girlfriend dressed like that… and another thing entirely for a brother to see his little sister on display.

The look on his face and the heat in his eyes as he gazed at her are two things I swear to God I hope to never again see on my brother's face for the rest of my days. I made a sound of disgust, elbowing him in the stomach. "Dimitri! Stop it!"

"Stop what?" He didn't even look at me, eyes still locked on all the tanned skin she had on prominent display.

"Stop thinking nasty things when you are standing next to me! You can't even take your eyes off her for a second so I don't even want to guess what must be on your mind!"

"You two behave," Mama's voice was soft as she reached up, straightening his collar. "Your sister's dress is fine, Dimka. I approved of it and so did your grandmother. In fact, to hear her tell it… she helped pick it out—so if you have a problem with it, take it up with her."

"Where is grandmother?" I pointed her out, trying not to laugh as his eyes widened comically. "Is that… Ambrose she is dancing with?"

"It is. He is her date tonight." My mother gave him a pointed look, heaving a dramatic sigh. "At least she is getting to dance. It is too bad no one has thought to ask me."

Dimitri smiled, bowing at the waist as he pressed his lips against the back of her hand. "May I have this dance please Mama?"

"I thought you would never ask! Vika—you will be alright alone?"

"Of course. Look… Roza is coming back. She'll keep me company while you two have fun."

Mama nodded, following after my brother as he steered her towards the dance floor; Roza laced her arm through mine as we watched them, her smile soft and happy.

"He's so graceful, isn't he?"

"For a giant, you mean?" I teased, giggling when she nodded. "According to Karolina, he had an awkward stage when he first started sprouting up."

"Wish I coulda seen it." She tore her eyes away from my brother, glancing around the room. "I'm impressed—the old man really outdid himself. I didn't think he could pull it off on his own." Roza looked around the room, a faint smile on her face. "Don't you dare tell him I said that, though."

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I hope someone takes pictures, otherwise no one back at school will believe me when I describe it."

"Oh I'm sure he's hired someone—or more likely called in a debt someone owes him. He's probably forcing one of the Royals to play photographer. He'd get a kick out of that." She glanced over at me, her lips curved up in a crooked grin as she winked playfully. "If that's the case you can bet they'll be damned sure to do a good job—they wouldn't wanna piss him off… that could end very, very… dangerously."

Across the room a female Guardian standing along the wall raised her hand, waving at Roza; she waved back, glancing over at me, her expression torn. "That's Meredith—we were in school together. She's been having some… problems… with her charge. He apparently thinks that part of having a Guardian means he's entitled to grope her whenever he wants. Will you be okay on your own for a few minutes? I need to talk to her for a sec."

"Sure. I'll try some of the food. Not too much though—this dress is already a little tight." It wasn't a complaint, just the truth. The formal dresses sold in the boutiques at Court were geared towards the Moroi's figures. I suppose they thought that the dhampirs in residence had no need of fancy dresses. Watching Roza cross the room, I discreetly tugged at the bodice of my dress, wishing the tight fitting foundation garment that Joy had selected for me to wear underneath the dress could have made my figure a little less curvy—at least the top half of them, anyway.

"Stop fidgeting, you look beautiful. You could pass for a princess—now all we need is to find a handsome prince to sweep you off your feet. Until he shows up you'll have to make do with me—may I have this dance Miss Belikova?"

I turned, immediately biting the inside of my lip to contain a giggle. Unlike the other men in attendance who had opted for the customary dark suits in shades of black and gray, Abe Mazur was dressed in his normal, ostentatious style—making him look like a peacock amidst a flock of pigeons. He'd paired his white tux with a peach colored shirt and dark burgundy tie, doubling the amount of jewelry he normally wore in honor of the formal occasion.

"I don't know how to dance like this sir." I gestured to the couples on the dance floor, doing what I assumed was a waltz, my cheeks coloring at the admission.

"Then I'll have to teach you—every young lady needs to know how to dance." Bowing slightly, he took my hand, resting it on the crook of his arm as he steered me to the dance floor.

Moving through the crowd I noticed Lissa smiling happily as she was whirled around the floor by Dimka's charge; Christian was smiling and laughing at something she'd said, and for the first time I understood what the queen saw in him. When he wasn't scowling and snarling at people, he was really a very handsome man.

The other couples were giving the middle of the floor a wide berth to avoid being the center of attention—but apparently that wasn't Abe's style. To my horror he led us straight to the empty area, so we—and my obvious lack of skill—would be on prominent display.

"Don't look so nervous kid—it's me they're staring at, not you. Now lesson one—ignore everything you've ever heard about waltzing. All that crap about counting steps is useless and will just end up making you look awkward. There's only two things you need to know for any paired dance; feel the music—and follow your partner's movements." He smiled, putting his hand on my waist, pulling me flush against his body—much closer than the other couples, who were maintaining a respectable distance between themselves.

"Mr. Mazur! I don't think—"

"Relax—I'm not putting the moves on you. You have to trust me—I know what I'm doing. Ready?" He waited for a moment, his head tilted to the side as he listened to the music, then began to glide me backwards. "Do you feel the way I'm moving?"

I did, and suddenly I understood why he had pulled me so very close; the movement of his muscles was explaining the steps to me in a way that was easier to understand than any words could ever be. Even so, I stumbled, stepping right on his foot, making my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry. I—"

"You're forgetting lesson one—you're not feeling the music Viktoria." He smiled, shaking his head. "You young people today… you don't appreciate the art of dancing. You think it's all about shaking your asses—and it's not. In your thirst for instant gratification you forget about the courtship—the romance of the melody and the movement of the dance."

"I don't understand how I'm supposed to feel music—it makes no sense."

"Close your eyes. Go on—do it."

I sighed but did as he asked, feeling extremely foolish. "What now?"

"Listen to the story the music is telling. Feel it in your heart and let it flow through you, becoming a part of you."

I tried to do as he asked, but my concentration was broken by his laughter. "You're thinking about it too hard kid."

My eyes shot open and I glared at him, irritated. "I am not! I was—"

"Your face was all screwed up like you were working on calculus or quantum physics. This isn't about thinking— it's about feeling… oh and by the way… in case you didn't notice… you're also waltzing." He smiled broadly, flashing his fangs. "I forgot to mention lesson number three—when all else fails, distraction works wonders."

I glanced down, surprised to realize he was right; I'd been so intent on arguing with him that I'd stopped thinking about the steps and just… well… danced. My body had taken over while my mind was occupied with other things, moving perfectly in time with the music—even after he'd released his grip and increased the distance between us. Glancing back up at him and seeing his smug expression, I couldn't resist needling him—just a bit. "You completely made up that last part didn't you? About distracting me?"

He shrugged, sliding his arm around my waist and dipping me backwards as the music ended—an unexpected movement that made me let out a gasp of surprise. "That, my dear… is something you'll never know." Pulling me upright he leaned closer; I giggled as his beard tickled my ear, the sound making him smile. "You'll have to be satisfied with learning to waltz and leave an old man his secrets."

I smiled as he pulled back, but my amusement was short lived; an exaggerated whisper caught my attention, the words wiping away my moment of happiness in the blink of an eye.

"Completely disgusting—bringing his blood whore to an event for the queen."

Heat rushed to my face as my eyes darted around, trying to spot the woman who had spoken—and it was only then that I realized several of the Moroi couples around us had stopped to stare, their expressions making their thoughts known as clearly as if they had voiced them. The men were leering at me in a way that made my skin crawl and the woman looked completely disgusted to see me on Abe's arm. I glanced over at him, hoping he hadn't heard the comment—but it was evident that it had reached his ears; his smile was gone, replaced by a dark, dangerous look similar to the one his daughter had displayed in the café when we had argued the day before.

"Excuse me for a moment Miss Belikova."

Judging by the way he moved through the crowd—like a heat seeking missile homing in on its target—it was apparent he had recognized the woman's snooty voice. Despite my embarrassment, I followed a few steps behind him, ready to intervene if things started to get out of hand—though I hadn't the faintest idea what I could do to calm him down if they did.

"Lady Tarus…having a good time? Is the… entertainment to your satisfaction?" He stopped mere inches away from a dark haired Moroi woman—so close that he was invading her personal space.

"Why…yes. It's a very lovely party. I think—"

"Are you certain? If it's not… I'm sure we can liven things up quite a bit." He cut her off, his angry dark eyes a complete contrast to the wide smile on his face. "Since you seem to enjoy indulging in gossip, let's see if I can come up with something that'll get everyone's attention—After all, I wouldn't want my guests to be bored now, would I? But unlike the lies you're so fond of spreading, every word I say will be true…and I have proof to back up what I say—do you?"

The Moroi's expression went even paler as she tool a large step back. "Mr. Mazur—"

"What shall we talk about first?" He kept right on going, not giving the slightest indication he'd heard her. " The fact your husband is screwing your sister—or that you've been seen sneaking out of your Guardian's apartment in the wee hours of the morning? Or perhaps we should talk about your children—I head young Joseph almost got expelled from Alder for compelling one of the locals to have a very good time when he snuck her into his dorm room after curfew—and almost drained her in the process, might I add. That was a hard one to cover up, wasn't it?"

A hushed murmur passed through the crowd around us as Abe's voice carried across the dance floor; with each secret he threw out the woman grew paler, until she looked on the verge of fainting. I felt a surge of pity for her, despite the ugly comment she'd made about me; I knew firsthand how it felt to be humiliated in front of your peers—Abe had done the same thing to me in Russia, though in a much less appalling way. I was grateful for his intercession, of course, but it was far, far to easy for me to remember how disgraced I'd felt that night. Stepping forward, I reached out, touching his arm—trying to get his attention.

"Mr. Mazur—please. Enough."

"Ah… Viktoria. Lady Tarus, have you been introduced to the young lady you were slandering? No? Well then… may I present Miss Viktoria Belikova—Guardian Belikov's youngest sister. She's a student at Saint Basil's, flown in to court for a visit at the Queen's request. You see… the Queen considers her family…" he leaned forward, all traces of his former smile evaporating as he spoke, "and so do I."

The enormity of the hidden threat behind his words wasn't lost on the Moroi; I have to give her credit, she had the intelligence to realize the fix she was in. She knew she had to make amends—and fast—or risk not only Abe's wrath, but Lissa Dragomir's too. Clearing her throat, she straightened up, regaining her composure remarkably fast; a calculating expression crossed her face then she nodded her head in my direction.

"Miss Belikova. I apologize for…. the misunderstanding."

I bowed my head respectfully, pretending nothing was wrong; I wouldn't allow myself to humiliate my family by appearing petty in front of the crowd—or by doing anything that might exacerbate the situation into even more of a scene. "It is forgotten already, Madam."

I turned my attention back to Abe—who was still tense with anger—reaching out to rest my hand lightly on his arm. "I never had a father to teach me how to dance—Mr. Mazur has been kind enough to fill the role tonight. If you will excuse us, I fear I am very clumsy and we should probably have another lesson."

Gently tugging on his arm, I pulled him away, then turned to face him, holding out my hands; I pitched my voice just loud enough to carry to the onlookers who were still watching. "Now please—what was lesson two again?"

"Follow your partner's lead." He took me in his arms, moving me backwards in time to the music, his lips tugged up in a smirk of approval. "Very smooth—you're quite the little diplomat, aren't you?"

"And you… are quite a dancer," I quipped, returning his smile. "I suppose you took lessons?"

"Nah—I've never been much for formal training. A woman I knew taught me so I would fit in with her crowd." He smiled, his eyes running over my dress. "First dance I took her to, she wore a dress similar to yours… only it was bright red—as soon as your grandmother described it to me I knew what she was wanted."

"Roza's mother?"

"Hardly." He laughed. "You forget, Janine is a dhampir, kid. Royal balls weren't really something she was invited to. When I was your age… all I cared about was making people like the ones here tonight accept me."

"I can understand that… wanting to fit in. Doesn't everyone want to be accepted by their peers?"

"I wanted more than that. I wanted them to acknowledge that I had Royal blood, even if it was diluted. My mother was an Ozera—back then, her father was their Prince. When she fell in love with my father… he disowned her."

The thought of someone being cut off from their family just because of who they loved troubled me. "Did she… was it hard on her?"

"No idea. She died giving birth to me, and my father refused to talk about her. It hurt him too much, remembering what he'd lost." His voice was even, but his eyes filled with so much sadness it made my heart ache, deep inside my chest.

"You were saying you wanted them to acknowledge you," I said, trying to steer the conversation back to less troubling things," so you what? Made a spectacle like the one with the Tarus woman? Forced them to let you into their midst?"

He chuckled at my sarcastic tone. "That would be too obvious. I was much, much more devious—you forget… they call me the serpent, little Vika. No, I set my eye on the woman that everyone predicted would be the next Moroi Queen—and I made her fall in love with me, knowing that if she did… all the others would have to accept me."

I looked up at him, frowning. "Did you love her?"

"I did… but not in the way you probably mean. She was someone I had known for a long time… older than me by a few years… classy and sophisticated. She was smart… smarter than me, truth be told, and I respected her… admired her… but I wasn't in love with her."

"But why—"

"There's all different kinds of love, kid. Platonic… familial…"

"I know all that," I said, interrupting him crossly. "I'm not twelve."

"Never said you were, did I? But when you pout like that and interrupt… I might say you're thirteen."

I scowled; he laughed.

"As I was saying… what I had with her… it was a… companionable love. Your generation has a much more crass name for it—'friends with benefits'. It wasn't the knock your socks off, head over heels kind of love—it was… comfortable. Routine, almost. She taught me what I needed to know to fit in with her lifestyle—what forks to use… how to ballroom dance and make polite conversation. She made me study Moroi law and understand the importance of politics, and in return she had a handsome man on her arm for all the parties and Royal shindigs she attended. I suppose she read more into it than I did—and that's my fault. I was young, and I enjoyed having people envy me… it was easy and comfortable—until she started making noises about making it permanent. She loved me and wanted to marry her… but about that time… I met a girl…"

His voice trailed off, his eyes flicking away from my face. I tightened my hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to continue. "And?"

"She took my breath away. From that moment on, she was all I thought about. I didn't need food or water or air—or even blood. I just needed her." His eyes were locked on the edge of the dance floor, his voice so soft I almost couldn't hear it over the music we danced to. "I fell in love, kid—and it made me see how wrong what I was doing with Tati was."

I followed his gaze over to a red haired dhampir that was chatting with my mother; her featured were so similar to Roza's that I didn't have to guess who she was. "Janine?"

He nodded, but did not speak, his eyes full of so much wistful yearning that I had to speak up and ask the obvious question. "If you pardon my saying so… the look on your face… why aren't you still with her?'

He sighed, tearing his eyes away from her. "What happens when you mix fire and gasoline, Viktoria?"

I thought about it for a moment before answering. "It burns stronger? Faster?"

"Exactly… but in joining with the fire, the gasoline changes. It loses itself. I have old world ideas about some things—I always have. I didn't want my woman working—I wanted her at home, raising my children. Janie… didn't agree. She was afraid that if she stayed she would lose who she was and become what I wanted—and she couldn't bear the thought of it."

"You still love her," I said softly.

"Forever. And she still loves me. But together… we burn each other up, destroying ourselves." His eyes darted over to where Dimitri was bent over, his head close to Roza as he laughed at something she'd said. "Those two have the same kind of love, but instead of fighting against it, they let the fire mold them. They don't look at it as losing who they are, but rather as becoming something stronger… better… from the flames. I look at them… and I see what Janie and I could have been if we'd been a little less bullheaded and a little more brave. We could have made it work if we'd tried a little harder and stuck it out."

"There's still time… you could try." I offered.

"I've always been willing to try. She isn't." His lips curved up in a sad smile, then he shook his head, holding me a little tighter. "Enough about the sorry state of my love life. Back to the lesson—do you understand the point I was trying to make?"

"That was a lesson? I thought it was just a story." I frowned, racking my brain. "The woman who taught you to dance was someone you loved, but she wasn't who you were meant to be with? Because it wasn't the forever kind of love… just friendship?"

"Close enough. You're a smart girl, Viktoria. Too smart to waste your life on the commune."

His assumption angered me. "I'm not going to become—"

"That's not what I meant," he interrupted, trying to soothe my wounded pride. "You'll get a job at a pharmacy like your sister, or maybe at a grocery store—or if you're really lucky as an office clerk—and waste your life away. Is that what you want?"

"What I want doesn't matter."

"It does. Are you good with numbers?"

The abrupt change confused me. "I—what?"

"Keeping tallies. Adding and subtracting. Calculating percentages and interest. That sort of thing."

"I… I suppose so. I always do well on my quizzes, at least. But—"

"Good. I already know you're a natural diplomat—so you'll always have an option. You can work for me—from Baia." I opened my mouth to protest, but he shushed me before I could speak. "Don't answer now—just remember the offer. It would give you an opportunity to do a little traveling, so you could see new places—and I don't think your family would object as long as you weren't serving as a Guardian."

I realized he had steered us to the edge of the dance floor, right by the spot where my mother was chatting with Janine Hathaway. Before he could pull us back into the throng of bodies on the dance floor, I turned my head, smiling brightly at Roza's mother. "Guardian Hathaway… I need to use the ladies room but I hate to leave Mr. Mazur without a partner. Would you mind stepping in for me?"

She gave me a pleasant smile in return, nodding as she moved to set her glass and the plate she held down on a nearby table; Abe's arm tightened around me, fingers digging into my lower back—letting me know he was less than pleased.

"Kid—what the hell are you doing?" The look on his face made me giggle; his eyes betrayed his panic, no matter how in control he might seem.

"Helping you grab a little happiness—be grateful! Now's your chance to start charming her back into your life—so give her that wonderful smile of yours and tell her she is the most beautiful woman in the room!" My whisper was soft, but he heard it.

"She always is," he muttered.

"She always is what?" Janine's eyes darted between us as she stepped up to take my place.

"He was saying that you are always the most beautiful woman in the room, madam," I said innocently, trying not to smile at her blush.

"Is that so? Well… you're looking a wee bit handsome yourself tonight, Ibrahim."

I turned away as he smiled, his arms moving to encircle her; mama was watching me with a look of amusement on her face. "What?"

"Why do I get the feeling you don't really need to use the facilities, Viktoria Belikova?"

"He still loves her, Mama—only I think that she has shot him down so many times that he's scared to try again… so I gave him a little nudge."

"Vika… that wasn't a nudge. It was a sledgehammer to the head." She laughed, taking my hand and squeezing it. "And here I thought your grandmother was the only matchmaker in the family."

"Olena? Can I borrow you for a second? I was checking on the kitchen—they're about to start bringing the Revani out… but something's not quite right."

Mama glanced over at Christian, nodding as she reached down to take his arm—tugging him towards the kitchen that was hidden away down the hall. "Did they put the pistachios on top? They balance out the flavor. Though I also sprinkle a little nutmeg on each slice too—but that's a secret."

I watched them walk away with their heads close together, knowing that it must please Mama to have him ask her advice, then glanced around, looking for my brother or Roza, wondering where they might be.

"My turn?"

The gentle touch on my back startled me, but I tried to hide it. I glanced over my shoulder, nodding at Paval, then followed him to the dance floor and let the music sweep me away. Dimka soon replaced him, then Christian—having averted the mini crisis in the kitchen. Even their friend Eddie spun me around the floor—though he seemed far too nervous to be having a good time. He kept looking over at my brother like he expected him to object, blushing furiously when I gently chided him to relax and smile. When the song ended he seemed almost relieved, leading me over to where Roza stood so he could attempt to lure her out onto the floor.

"Come on Rose—your turn."

"Nope—thanks though. I'm saving all my dances for my Russian. But you know who you should ask?" Her eyes darted over to the table where Lissa's sister sat; the girl had wistful look on her face as she stared out at the dance floor. "Jillybean."

Eddie frowned. "I can't. She's a Princess."

"So the fuck what? Lissa is a queen—and you danced with her. Come on Eddie… I've been watching her all night and nobody has asked her. It would really mean a lot to her." She bumped her arm against his shoulder, giving him a pleading look. "You know you want to."

He ducked his head down, his blonde hair falling in his eyes; after hesitating for a minute, he nodded, heading towards her table. We watched as her face brightened; she nodded her head, standing up so quickly that her chair tipped over backwards.

"I knew it—she's got a crush on him. She's been watching him all night." Roza smiled, pleased with herself, her eyes following them across the room.

The music switched as they reached the dance floor; we both dissolved into giggles at the identical looks of panic on their faces as the room filled with a fast, pulsing Mediterranean beat. The young Princess grabbed Eddie's hand, tugging him back to her table so fast that he stumbled, almost pulling them both off their feet—making us laugh so hard we had to lean on each other for support.

Wiping my eyes, I saw Abe throw his hand up, circling it in the air; the volume cranked up in response, so loud that I could actually feel the rhythm vibrating through my body. He returned to the dance floor, towing my mother behind him—ignoring her protest , he flashed a devilish smile, and then raised his hands above his head as he began gyrating his hips like a belly dancer. Laughing, I turned to Roza, making a teasing comment, asking what she would do if Abe and Mama decided to have a vacation fling—but she couldn't hear me over the sound of the loud Turkish music. I tried again… to no avail. She didn't even acknowledge I had spoken; her eyes were locked on the table where Eddie and Jill were sitting, and she was completely wrapped up in watching the outcome of her matchmaking.

That… was when it happened.

The strangest feeling hit me—almost like dejavu; a tingle ran through me, making chill bumps dance along my skin—even the fine hairs on the back of my neck prickled, standing on end. My eyes immediately darted to the table where my grandmother was sitting, locking with hers; she nodded at me with the strangest smile on her face, looking so pleased that it confused me— and then… I knew. It was time. Something was about to happen that would leave me forever changed, just as she had predicted.

I can't really describe it… that sense of knowing. The closest I can come is to compare it to being in a car wreck; it's that feeling you get a split second before an accident, when everything seems to slow down around you and all you can do is wait for the impact and the sound of crunching metal and the shattering of glass. You glance out the window and see the other vehicle barreling down on you, but even though everything is in slow motion, you have no time to brace yourself for what's about to occur. That's how it was for me in that moment… my mind was racing, and I was trembling with anticipation…just waiting for something to happen.

"Your name must be Angel, 'cause I've died and gone to Heaven."

I froze, feeling like I had been sucker punched in the gut. The low husky voice behind me was one I'd heard a thousand times before—but never in person.

It was the voice from my dreams.

I turned—and for the space of a single heartbeat, the world stood still around me. I stared at him in shock, trying to remember how to speak. "Ex- Excuse me?"

For the first time in almost four years, I could see his full face; what had always been draped in shadow before was fully on display—and he was so magnificent that he completely stole my breath away.

"Your name, sweetheart—is it Angel?"

"Vik-Viktoria." I stammered, but he didn't seem to notice.

He held out his hand and I automatically slid my own into it; there was a surge when we touched that made me dizzy—it was replaced almost immediately by the warm familiar sense of peace that I'd always felt in my dreams. The… rightness… of having him hold my hand made my breath catch in my throat; staring into his bright green eyes, I could feel my cheeks flood with color. He used our grasped palms to pull me closer; I dropped my chin in a futile attempt to hide behind my hair. I didn't want him to see how stunned I was or realize how such a simple thing as the touch of his palm against mine affected me. He didn't notice my embarrassment; his arms slid around me, locking behind my back, startling me so much I jerked my head up in surprise—and then… he kissed me.

And every single one of my senses exploded.

At first, it was just a soft, teasing press of his mouth against mine, so sweet that it was like spun sugar, feathery and light against my lips—but then… the moment I responded, the kiss instantly changed. My nails dug into his shoulders as my mouth moved against his; he tensed, pulling me closer, increasing the pressure of his lips. I opened my mouth to him, swiping my tongue along his lower lip, making a soft sound when he reciprocated the gesture. His tongue teasingly brushed against my own, sending a surge of electricity through my body—I instantly pressed myself even closer, my hands sliding from his shoulders to his neck.

In that moment, I understood what Abe had meant in a way I hadn't before. I'd thought his comment about needing something more than air was just a pretty phrase—but now I knew he had been completely serious. Kissing the boy from my dreams was more important than breathing—more important than anything else in the whole, wide world. I forgot about the people around us or the fact we were practically strangers; my mind was consumed with one thing alone—the fire that raced through my blood, awakened by his kiss, filling me with a burning need for more of him.

"Get your hands off my sister, Ivashkov!"

At first, I didn't process my brother's voice—full of rage and indignation. It wasn't until the boy was ripped away from me that I realized Dimitri was there. At that moment, I couldn't breathe for a completely different reason—my body was mourning the loss of him, making me cry out in protest and reach out to reclaim him. I couldn't reach him—a very large body had stationed itself between us, bristling with pent up tension and rage. Dimka was like an enraged dog, straining to snap it's leash—though I couldn't for the life of me figure out why… mind you, I was still bleary headed from the kiss and having trouble thinking. A hand clamped down on my arm, jerking me back as I tried to shove my brother aside; it was Roza, steering me away from the two men. I didn't go easily—I struggled to return to his side, almost knocking the both of us off balance since we were wearing high heeled shoes.

"Roza—let me go!" It came out almost a growl.

"No—Dimitri will handle it." She glanced back over her shoulder, a scowl on her beautiful face. "I can't believe he would pull this shit here—he's gotta be drunk."

"There's nothing to handle! It was just a kiss—one I happened to have been enjoying!" I elbowed her sharply in the solar plexus, trying to loosen her hold on me. " Let me go for God's sake!"

Her grip tightened to the point it was actually painful. "Viktoria—calm the fuck down!"

"I will not! I can kiss whoever the hell I want! Now let me go—I'm not going to ask you again!"

"So help me God if I have to tackle you to the floor and pin you I will—but if you make me do it in this damn dress I'm gonna be fucking pissed!"

I kicked off my shoes as she tugged me across the room, ready to plow her down if I had to; I didn't care about making a spectacle—it wouldn't be any worse than the one she and Dimitri had already caused. I was still filled with a burning need to return to the boy's side—and have him kiss me again. "This is none of your business or Dimitri's!"

"Hah! That's what you think. The only reason he kissed you was to—Fuck!" She swayed, thrown off balance as I went completely limp in her arms.

It was what I'd intended.

Using my momentum, I pulled her more off balance, then I locked my legs, grabbing her arms and hurling her over my shoulder before she could react—slamming her down on the ground so hard that I could hear her breath rush out from the impact. "Don't you ever try to strong arm me again Roza."

My voice sounded dangerous, eerily similar to my brother's when he'd spoken a few minutes before. If it took a knockdown, full on fight to show them I was serious, then that was exactly what they'd get.

She sprang up, recovering far faster than I'd thought she would, kicking off her own shoes and crouching over to center herself. "We're doing this to protect you!"

I cursed the long skirt I was wearing—the slit in hers gave her more freedom and ease to move around. Warily watching her body for any sign of sudden movement, I mimicked her posture, waiting for her to rush me. I wasn't a fool; I might be bigger and stronger than she was, but she had been trained by the absolute best—my brother, who was much, much larger than me. Still, for all her skill, I had one thing on my side at that moment that she was lacking—an all-consuming rage at having the moment I'd waited so long for destroyed almost as soon as it had begun. Focusing on the woman circling me, I tuned out the small crowd that had gathered around us, ignoring the jeering catcalls of the men and the shocked murmurs of the ladies.

"I can protect myself, Guardian Hathaway—I don't need your assistance."

"Yeah, you proved that in Baia, didn't you," she taunted, trying to provoke me into movement. When that didn't work, she rushed me, feigning to the left in an attempt to get me to dodge in the wrong direction.

I didn't fall for it.

Dropping to my knees I grabbed her arms, flipping her again and slamming my fist into her stomach as soon as her back hit the ground. She stared up at me in shock as I straddled her, one hand at her throat, pinning her, the other drawn back, in case I needed to deliver another blow. "I'm not the same naive girl I was back then—I'm a hell of a lot tougher and I'm—"

"Finished." Two strong arms locked around me, tight as iron bands, lifting me completely off of her body. The next thing I knew I was staring at the floor—and it seemed a long way down. My brother had tossed me over his shoulder and was storming out of the ballroom.

"You put me down this minute Dimitri Nikolai Belikov! She started it!" I kneed him in the chest, but it had no effect on him—in fact, I think it hurt my leg more than it hurt him.

"Be quiet! She did not start anything—she was trying to keep me from doing something I would regret."

"Bullshit! She was keeping me away—"

"Because she knows how Adrian is!" He cut me off, his voice angrier than I could remember ever hearing it. "If you'd reached him he would have kissed you again—or done something far worse, just to piss me off… and I would have fucking killed him for touching you."

His words stunned me so much that I fell silent; it wasn't so much the statement he'd made as the fact that in all my life, not once had I heard him curse. It was just something that Dimitri did not do. My silence seemed to make him think I was calming down—but I wasn't; as soon as I got over my initial shock, I began struggling again. Lacing my fists together, I slammed them against his lower back; this time he groaned and stumbled, but still he didn't stop. I screamed and cursed at him but he ignored me—right up until I slammed my fists in the same spot again. He dumped me off his shoulder on to the ground, glaring at me as he rubbed his back.

"How dare you treat me like this! I am not Roza! I won't put up with—hey!" He grabbed my hand and started walking, dragging me along after him. I dug my feet in but all that accomplished was scraping up my bare feet.

"You might as well stop fighting me. You're going back to your apartment and you're not leaving it again tonight. If I have to, I'll stand guard outside the door."

"Dimitri—let go!" I jerked my arm so hard that he had to let go or else risk dislocating it from the socket. When he turned around to snatch it again, I jumped backwards, glaring up at him. "I am not some child to be dragged to my room for misbehaving!"

"You can make all the foolish mistakes you want when you are an adult—"

"I am an adult!"

"Not yet you…" his voice trailed off, realization replacing the look of anger he'd been wearing. "Vika… why didn't you—"

"Because it doesn't matter! I understand everyone was busy and caught up in the excitement of preparing for tonight. I'm not a child who pouts and sulks because of a forgotten birthday—but I am a woman now and you have no right to treat me this way!" He moved towards me but I held up my hand to stop him; I was angry and embarrassed—I didn't want comforting, and as sad as it is to say, in that moment, I didn't trust him. He had never tricked me before, but he'd never mistreated me either—it was far too easy to imagine him luring me, just so he could drag me off again. "No! You and Roza humiliated me back there Dimitri! In front of everyone. I didn't deserve it—and neither did he."

"You may think you are all grown up just because you had a birthday, but Adrian Ivashkov is not the sort of man I will ever let you be around. Being seen with him is dangerous for your reputation! As dangerous as—"

"As what? What happened with Rolan?" I cut him off, practically hissing it out. "Despite what your precious girlfriend might have told you, I did nothing wrong that night—and I wouldn't have. You all seem to think I'm some blood whore in the making, but I have morals you know! She's the one who made a scene that night too, conning her father into sending his goons to drag me out of the party. I've grown up a lot since then and I'm old enough to make my own decisions about who I—"

"What night?" His hands snaked out, grabbing my arms, his dark eyes narrowing suspiciously. "What party?"

"Don't act like she didn't tell you!" I jerked my arms free again, shoving him away. "Just go back to your party and leave me the hell alone. I don't want to talk to you anymore tonight!"

"Vika, please, don't be like this. I am only trying to—"

"No!" I stormed off in the direction of my apartment, hitching my skirt up with my hands so I could move fast enough to keep ahead of him; that he would follow me was a given—I knew he was back there, even though he didn't speak.

When I reached my building I jerked open the door, letting it shut in his face, then I stood glaring at him, watching as he walked towards the elevators—before I headed pointedly for the stairs. He took them two at a time to catch up with me, muttering under his breath that I was more temperamental than Roza,; I didn't care—I just wanted to be rid of him. I could feel the tears welling up and I wanted to cry alone. I didn't speak again until we reached my apartment, turning to glare at him as I swiped away the tears that had overflowed and were trailing down my cheeks. "I'm here—now go away. You don't have to worry about my running off—I just want to be alone."

"Kotyonok… just let me come in so we can—"

"No!" I cut him off, pointing down the hall in the direction we had come. " I need to calm down and so do you—or things will be said that we will later regret. Once words are thrown out in anger they are impossible to reclaim—and they are impossible to forget. Tomorrow we can talk, but tonight I want you to leave me the hell alone, Dimka!"

"Don't call me that! I hate that name!" He leaned against the wall, rubbing wearily at his forehead. "It reminds me of him. He's the first one who used it. How many times do I have to ask you before you realize I mean it?"

I almost pointed out that he had been acting like our father—bullying me into doing what he wanted, determined he was right, but I caught myself before it could slip out; the comparison would have shattered him—but I was so angry that if he didn't leave I wouldn't be able to keep it locked up within me. "Fine—Dimitri—that is one of the things we can discuss tomorrow."

He stared at me, his face expressionless—but his eyes were full of misery. "Alright… but I will say this… I would do it again if I had to. You don't know—"

"I don't want to know—I am tired and embarrassed and I don't know how I will face people. At this moment I think I should cut my trip short and just go home to spare myself the humiliation! I am going to take a bath and go to bed and leave the decisions for tomorrow—and I suggest you go collect your girlfriend and do the same. Good night Dimitri." I stepped into the apartment, slamming it before he could respond. Throwing all the locks and fastening the chain, I leaned up against it, then completely let go. Sinking to the floor I cried harder than I'd ever cried, feeling so mixed up and confused that my stomach was in knots. As horrible as I felt for fighting with my brother, I didn't regret the things I'd said; he deserved my anger, and much, much more—but the look in his eyes tormented me.

I cried so much that it was hard to breath, making me dizzy as I gasped for air. By the time my sobs subsided, my throat was sore, and my eyes were aching too. I was so shaky and weak that when I tried to stand I couldn't—I had a hard time just crawling over to the couch and pulling myself up off of the floor. I curled into a ball, emotionally and physically drained from everything that had happened, but still the tears wouldn't stop. They were still flowing freely as I stared up at the ceiling, completely exhausted by my outburst—and at that moment, when my defenses were at their weakest… I was pulled into a vision.

Of him.

A/N: I swear to god, every time I transfer my handwritten chapters into the pc, they triple in size. I had hoped to include the 'vision' she falls into in this chapter, but at almost 13,000 words, it's going to have to wait for the next one—I'll give you a little hint though… it's not just a vision, it's a Spirit dream, too. Someone… is looking for her. ;o)