Previous diary entry continued…
At least… I thought it was a vision—at first. It had the bright clear quality of those dreams, but it was somehow…different… though I couldn't quite figure out why. I was in a darkened room, standing before a huge window that looked out over the expanse of one of the gardens that were scattered around the court; it took me a moment to realize that it was the garden I'd visited the day before—I recognized the statue of the queen. There was a low table in front of me, scattered with candles and a large, framed picture; moving closer, I picked it up to examine it, hoping it would give me some clue as to where I might be.The woman in it was sitting in a high backed chair, holding a small boy on her lap, her lips curved up in a loving smile as she gazed down at his dark head; I realized at once that it was the image of the former queen and that the table was some sort of shrine to her. I set the picture back down, crossing myself as I murmured a quick prayer in her memory.
That was when he spoke.
"Why do you pray for her? I know you never met her… most people celebrated her death as if it was a fucking holiday."
I didn't expect a voice to drift out of the darkness behind me; it startled me so much I let out a girlish shriek that made him chuckle.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you… although you surprised the hell out of me when you appeared. I'm not sure how you got here—I didn't mean to pull you in, I usually can't when I've had too much to drink." I heard the sound of liquid being poured into a glass followed by the bottle being set on the table. "Just so you know I'm not being a stalker—I wanted to make sure you were okay. You were pretty upset when Belikov hauled you out of the ballroom. I have to admit though… seeing you hand Rose her ass… it was worth having to listen to your brother bitching me out."
His words confused me—so I didn't acknowledge them, responding to his first question instead. "She was a good woman from what I've heard—she may have done some things people didn't approve of, but I suppose it is hard to please everyone when you are a queen."
"Truer words have never been spoken. It was you, wasn't it? Who put the flowers in her urn? Normally I'm the only one who ever visits her." I heard movement as he approached me but I could not see him—not until he was right in front of me and he reached out to take my hand. "You've been crying Angel… why?"
I blushed, my eyes falling to the floor. "No I haven't… I'm fine. Waiting for a headache to hit, but other than that…"
"Lie," he whispered, his other hand reaching up to trace his index finger along my cheek, following the tracks my tears had made. "But we'll come back to that in a minute. Why are you waiting on a headache? Most people try to avoid them."
"I always get them when I have a vision… that's what this is you know… just like the others—" I bit my lip to stop myself from rambling about how often I'd dreamed of him. "It happens sometimes. I've learned to live with it." It was strange that I felt comfortable enough to tell him what I hid from everyone else—but I didn't question it, it just felt… right… to do it.
"Ahhhhh. That's how you got here. I knew I didn't use enough juice to pull you in." He moved closer, so close that my dress brushed against his legs. "Don't think you'll get a headache this time. Call it a hunch but I'm willing to bet my spirit and your…whatever… sort of… merge in this dream. Now back to the tears… why were you crying? And before you try to brush it off again—I can tell when you're not truthful. A persons aura always shows when they're lying. Spirit makes me a walking, talking lie detector."
"Spirit? Like the queen has?"
"Yes… now stop changing the subject and answer the question."
I sighed, irritated that he wouldn't let the subject go. "I fought with my brother. We never fight… it upset me."
"Over what I did." It was a statement, not a question—so I remained silent. His fingertips brushed along my cheek again, the gesture sending a tingle down my spine. "I don't like the thought of you crying and upset because of something I did. It bothers me… though I don't know why."
"I just told you it was because I fought with my brother—"
"Because he was pissed that I kissed you—and he doesn't like me much. Of course, the feeling is mutual, so no harm no foul." He pulled away, releasing my hand, retreating into the darkness. A moment later I heard him pouring another drink; he returned with it in hand. "I'm sorry about that—pissing him off. I didn't know you were his sister. Not that it would have dissuaded me in the slightest, mind you." He winked, his lips curving up in a lazy smile as he raised the glass to his lips, tossing back the contents.
"It's not your fault. I shouldn't have snapped at him—he was just trying to protect me. But I was so angry… I said things to him… things that will probably cause him to fight with Roza."
"I wouldn't worry too much about causing them to fight sweetheart—they won't let anything or anyone come between them. Epic love written in the stars and all that bullshit."
There was a note of bitterness in his voice that I didn't understand, but before I could comment on it he moved, depositing the glass on the table beside his aunt's photograph, his hands sliding around my waist. "Didn't get a chance to dance with you before your brother went all U.S.S.R and manhandled you out of the ballroom… how about it?"
"But… there's no music." My lips twitched up in a smile as I studied his face, searching for a hint of teasing.
"Oh Angel—you've got a lot to learn about dreams… especially the ones you share with me." He closed his eyes, his brow wrinkling—and a moment later the soft sound of harps and strings echoed through the room. His eyes flicked open, sparkling with mischief as he smiled at me, his hands gripping me a little tighter. "Now… about that dance?"
I laughed softly, sliding my arms around his shoulders, my fingers instantly seeking out the soft skin at the base of his neck; I knew how to do this kind of dancing, so there was none of the fear and uncertainty I'd experienced in the ballroom. "This music… it's familiar. What is it?"
"Hmmm? Oh… it's from a movie I watched with my cousin a while back. Lissa is crazy about the animated ones… watches them over and over. I thought it was appropriate since we're in a dream." His head ducked down, lips brushing against my tear stained cheek as we swayed to the music. "It's the one about a princess that falls asleep…" his words were a soft whisper against my skin, "waiting for her prince to wake her up… with a kiss."
His lips brushed mine, gentle and soft at first, then moving with more intensity when I didn't pull away; I made a hushed sound of pleasure against his mouth as the strange electric feeling returned, tickling along my spine. It was easy to forget about how embarrassed I'd been at the party, or even how upset the fight with my brother had made me; everything faded away except the feeling of his lips against mine and the way his strong hands moved up and down my back, pulling me closer.
Just like in the ballroom, time slowed to a crawl; hours could have slipped by while we were unaware, lost in our shared kisses and tentative caresses as we slowly moved to the music. Eventually our embraces grew bolder; my fingers tangled in his hair, his mouth traveling down my neck as his hands slid down to tightly grip my ass—I took a shaking breath, my heart beating so frantically that I was sure he could feel my pulse pounding against his lips.
"You're so beautiful… a beautiful dream." Warm breath tickled against my skin when he whispered in my ear—then his mouth reclaimed mine, his hungry kisses leaving me dizzy. His hands ran through my hair, fingers gently massaging my scalp as he tilted my head, deepening our kiss; I opened my mouth to him, moaning softly as his tongue caressed mine. I mimicked the action, my tongue accidentally grazing against his fang; it seasoned our kiss with a hint of my blood, making him groan, pulling me even closer, flush against his body.
But then… he pulled away, stepping back to increase the distance between our bodies..
"We have to stop. Now. This… it's wrong."
"Wha—no!" Don't say that!" I tried to tug him back so I could reclaim his lips; a moment before I had felt exactly how his body was reacting to me—and it filled me with an aching need that was almost too much to bear. He resisted, refusing to move closer. "But… why?"
"You're brother… he's right. I'm no good. Not for someone like you, Angel." The look of intense sadness on his face only increased my desire to kiss him; I wanted to wipe away the sorrow, replacing it with the carefree smile he'd worn the first time I saw him—when I'd turned around at the party and he was there, in front of me, my dream brought to life.
"Why don't you let me be the judge of that? All you men, thinking you know what is right for me—never considering that I might know exactly what I want."
His green eyes locked with mine, his expression torn. "And what would that be?"
"Kiss me again… and I'll tell you. That is the price for knowing my secret… and I promise, it is worth it."
He smiled—which was exactly the reaction I'd been aiming for. "An offer like that is hard to refuse."
"Then don't waste time trying." I closed the distance between us; reaching up , I laced my fingers through his soft dark hair, tugging his head down as I tilted my face to kiss him—for once, happy about my height. He was tall, but so was I; we fit together perfectly, like pieces of a puzzle that were meant to be conjoined.
It was unlike me to be so forward; I suppose it was the effect he had on me, leaving me craving more and more of him. It was an urge I had to satisfy—but just as his lips met mine… someone knocked on his door.
"Don't answer it," I whispered against his lips, my fingers tracing gentle patterns along the small of his back. "Maybe they will go away."
"It's not my door they're knocking on sweetheart—it's yours. You're about to wake up."
No sooner did he say it then I felt myself… fading—becoming less aware of the dream and more aware of reality; I fought against it just as hard as I'd fought Roza to return to his side, clinging to him with all my strength—but it was no use. The room around me dimmed, the music disappearing; the last thing I heard before completely waking was his voice—a soft, sad whisper.
"Goodbye, Angel."
I sat up so fast I toppled off the couch, slamming face first into the floor. The string of curses I let out in my native tongue would have made my mama blush to hear—and earn me a mouth full of soap from my grandmother.
The knocking—or I should say pounding,because that's what it was—had become rather insistent; it was so loud that I was surprised none of the other tenants on the floor had called in a noise complaint. Pushing myself to my feet, I stumbled over, still groggy and half reeling from what I'd experienced. I wasn't surprised at who it was—deep down I had known my brother wouldn't heed my request to leave me in peace for the rest of the night.
"What part of leave me alone did you not understand? Perhaps I should have said it in Russian?"
"I wanted to make sure you were…" his voice trailed off, eyes narrowing. "Who is in there with you?"
"No one! I was asleep!"
"In your dress? With your hair all mussed and your face looking like that?" He pushed past me, storming into the apartment, eyes darting around the room. "Where is he?"
"You have lost your mind—or you are drunk." I crossed my arms, glaring at him. "There is no one here but me—I fell asleep on the couch, exhausted from crying."
"Don't lie to me Viktoria!" He moved to the bedroom, turning on the light; a moment later, I heard him opening the closet, and then move to check the bathroom.
"Satisfied?" I asked sarcastically when he walked back into the room.
He wasn't—not until he opened the window and leaned out to make sure there were no male visitors dangling from the narrow ledge. "Who was it? Ivashkov?"
"Dimitri—stop. You are acting crazy! There was no one here but me and—" I gasped as he grabbed me, spinning me around to face the large mirror behind the door.
"I know what a girl looks like when she has been… entertaining, Viktoria."
My eyes locked with his angry ones in the reflection before dropping to look at my face; I struggled not to let the surprise I felt betray me. My lips were swollen and tender looking, and the skin around them was red—somehow… I was showing physical signs of what had happened in a dream.
My eyes darted back up to lock with his, just as dark and furious as his were. "I am trying to be civil, brother, but you are making it very hard. You burst in here, insinuating I am lying—when I owe you no explanation for anything. I will tell you one last time—I swear before God above that I was alone and asleep. I do not know why my lips are swollen unless perhaps I hurt them in the fight with Roza. My skin is blotchy and red from the tears I shed—over fighting with you. And I swear to you that if I have to involve Mama in this problem between us I will—because I refuse to be bullied by you! Never in my life did I imagine that I would fear my own, sweet brother the way I did our father—but right now… I do. You are not yourself—not the Dimitri I know and love more than anything!"
His jaw tightened and he winced; I knew it hurt him to be compared to the man we both hated—but I had to speak the truth. Furious, hurt tears welled up in my eyes, spilling over to trail down my cheeks; in the mirror, his face softened, then his chin dropped down to rest against the top of my head.
"I am sorry, kotyonok. There is… so much you do not understand." His grip on me relaxed; I turned, wrapping my arms around him, my face pressed against his chest. "Please… may I have five minutes? Just five… then I will leave you alone."
I pulled back, nodding, my fingers lacing through his; I was still angry, but some things were more important than foolish pride. What the people at Court thought of me did not really matter—I couldn't let what had happened come between me and Dimitri. He was my brother… and I would suffer a thousand humiliations to have him as he was—here beside me, whole and alive. We walked over to the couch and I curled up at his side, waiting for his explanation.
"This… it is hard for me to say, Vika… so please do not interrupt. When I was restored… it brought me back and returned my soul, but traces of what I was still linger, deep inside me. It is one of the reasons I fought so hard against Roza, trying to push her away—I didn't want her to suffer. Being turned… it affected me in ways you could never imagine. I think that as a Strigoi… the parts of me that I inherited from our father surfaced. I was cold, and cruel—I wanted to rule the world. I wanted to control everything and everyone, making them bow before me, with Roza as my dark queen." His arm slid around me, holding me tight. "I was very, very possessive of the things that I saw as mine. I wanted to keep them safe—although I didn't understand why it was important to me. It was like that with Roza… and with you too. There were times I went to Saint Basil's and stood outside the wards…needing to reassure myself that my sister was safe. That is part of why I am so protective now. It is not an excuse for my actions… but an explanation. That protective, possessive instinct that awoke when I was Strigoi… it is one of the things that lingers on… and I do not think it will ever completely go away."
I studied his somber expression, wondering if I could speak. "But… I danced with a lot of people at the party and you weren't like this about them. Was it because he kissed me?"
He sighed, stroking my hair. "There is… a great deal of history between Adrian and me, kotyonok—and it is mostly bad. He hates me for things that happened—with good reason—and he is very, very bitter. For a while… he was actually someone I was beginning to admire, but his anger has made him revert to what he used to be—a Royal who cares about nothing other than his own pleasure. He is looking for a way to get back at me… to make me feel the same pain he did… and I refuse to let you get hurt in the process."
It was on the tip of my tongue to disagree—he cared about his Aunt and about doing the right thing—but I stayed silent; there was no way I could explain how I knew such things without betraying the dream I had shared with the man he disliked so much.
"You were right… you are an adult now, but you are still my baby sister—and that is why I cannot allow you to do something that will cause you pain in the long run, Vika."
"I understand." And I did—like any future visits to the garden, anything I shared with Adrian would have to be kept a secret. "Thank you for trusting me enough to be honest with me Dimk—" I caught myself on the verge of using the old, familiar nickname. But what should I call him if he hated that one so much? "Mitya."
"Mitya… I like that very much. It is what our cousin used to call me when he came to visit—when you were just a tiny thing." His lips pressed against my forehead, then he pulled away and stood. "I will let you get back to your sleep, sister. You will need as much of it as you can get—in a few days we begin training."
I groaned, flopping over on the couch and burying my head in my arms. "Already? I think you will be very hard on me, yes?"
He chuckled, pausing at the door. "Not too hard—and I want you to teach Roza that move you used tonight. She is in a snit that you pinned her—I'm the only one that usually can."
I lifted my head, smiling at him. "Why haven't you showed it to her yourself? I learned it from you."
"You may have used it against me a time or two, but you came up with it on your own." He smiled, tapping the locks as he opened the door. "Lock up behind me—I won't bother you again tonight."
I stood, making my way to the door, leaning against it, watching him walk off down the hall. "Dimitri?"
"Yes?" He turned, brushing a strand of hair out of his face.
"I love you… please remember that. No matter how angry you might make me… I love you always."
"I know kotyonok. I love you too. Goodnight."
I watched him board the elevator, then shut the door and fastened the locks. Eyeing the clock, I waited, watching it's hands slowly turn; when fifteen minutes had passed, I hurried into the bedroom, exchanging my fancy ball gown for a t-shirt, sneakers and jeans. I glanced in the mirror, giving myself a cursory one over as I smoothed down my hair—but I had the strangest sense that somehow, my outfit was incomplete. It was a little itching feeling in the back of my mind, growing stronger the longer I stood there; on a hunch I opened the tiny box that held my jewelry, sifting through the items inside and looking for something to add—but nothing seemed right… not until my hand dropped down to the drawer where I'd hidden away the heirloom that Yeva had given me. There was no way the ring would fit on my finger, so I slipped it on a silver chain, tucking it inside my shirt so it rested against my skin—and just like that, the prickling in my mind eased. Finally, I was ready to go—or as ready as I'd ever be.
I threw open the window, studying the nearest tree. It would be risky; if I fell, I would most assuredly end up with several broken bones—or worse—but if I wanted to see Adrian, it had to be done. Taking a deep breath, I climbed out on the tiny ledge, focusing on the branch I was aiming for. I centered myself, slowing my breathing… and then I jumped.
For a millisecond, I panicked. In midair, my brain started screaming that I had miscalculated my leap, telling me to grab on to something—but I forced myself to concentrate, knowing the slightest shift would alter my momentum, resulting in a nasty fall. My hands hit the thick branch, bark abrading my palms; I latched on to it, hanging suspended for a moment before pulling myself up.
Taking a second to catch my breath, I closed my eyes and leaned against the trunk; the leap had been extremely foolish and risky—but exhilarating too. Climbing down was the easy part—just lowering myself, hand over hand—then the ground was beneath my feet and I was brushing myself off, congratulating myself on my success.
"That… was fucking stupid, kid."
I shrieked, instinctively whirling around and lashing out at the voices owner; there had been no one beneath me as I'd climbed—I had made a point to stop and check from time to time, on the lookout for guardians on patrol. My fist was caught in an iron grip, then released almost immediately.
"Calm down—I'm not going to hurt you." Abe leaned back against the tree, looking at me like I was a spooked horse that might bolt. "In fact… you might say I'm here to help you stage a jail break."
"I cannot afford your kind of help, Mr. Mazur." I glanced around, hoping the noise I'd made hadn't attracted attention.
"Consider this a freebie."
"Why would you do that? It makes no sense—surely you side with Roza and Dimitri…"
"I love my daughter—and I've grown pretty attached to your brother, but they're not always right. Sometimes things aren't just black and white—there are shades of gray in between."
"Just the same—I think I can manage on my own, thank you. I've made it this far, haven't I?"
"Bang up job you're doing—you realize you almost missed that branch by a mile? If it hadn't been for my intervention, you'd have been kissing concrete." He smirked, glancing up at the tree; the limb I had landed on shook, shifting before my eyes, moving farther away from my window.
Realizing my initial reaction had been right—that I'd almost fallen several stories down—made me feel dizzy; I sank down on the grass at his feet, waiting for it to pass. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it. Tell me… are you running away?"
"No… I just wanted to go for a walk. To clear my head."
He frowned, shaking his head. "Rule number one—don't lie to me."
"I'm not—"
"You are. Tell me, aren't you wondering why I left a party I've been planning for months? I assure you, it wasn't because I felt some deep, burning need to check up on you."
I eyed him, wondering what he was getting at. "So? Why are you here?"
"Your grandmother was rather insistent that her little kitten needed help. Despite getting that dress—I still owe her… and I don't like being indebted. Not to mention it's the least I can do after that stunt you pulled with Janine—she agreed to go out to dinner with me."
"Consider it a freebie," I muttered, climbing to my feet, trying to ignore how hot my cheeks felt at having been caught in a lie. "What did Grandmother say?"
"A load of mumbo jumbo that only a mystic could decipher—but that doesn't matter. First things first—there's something I have to make sure of before I help you." He pushed away from the tree, circling me—like a shark that smelled blood in the water. "I'm rather fond of Adrian… he's almost like a son. But—"
"I said I don't need your help," I snapped, turning to keep him in my line of sight.
"You do—how were you planning on finding him? Enlighten me—you can consider it repayment for me moving the branch and saving your ass."
"I know his apartment overlooks his Aunt's garden."
"So—what? You planning on knocking on every door in the building? Brilliant idea—I'm sure when the residents call the Guardians complaining about the Russian girl disturbing them in the middle of the night Dimitri won't suspect it's you."
I kept my mouth shut since that was pretty much what I'd been planning to do—though I'd planned on sticking to the upper floors.
"No smart quip? I'm disappointed." He studied me for a minute, shaking his head. "Adrian has been hurt enough without being exposed to someone who's only interest in him is what he is… who he is. That night in Baia… you seemed to be headed down the path towards becoming the sort of girl who would throw herself on anyone with a title or pair of fangs—"
"I was not! It was just a party and I thought—" I bit my lip, cutting myself off—on the verge of revealing too much. He didn't need to know about my dreams or how I'd mistakenly thought Rolan was the one in them. "It was a mistake… with Rolan. He was the first Moroi boy I ever dated—and besides, tonight… Adrian approached me—not the other way around. I didn't even know who he was or anything about him—I don't care who his family is, Mr. Mazur… I just… I need to see him. When he kissed me… I understood your lesson." I stared at him, willing him to see that I was telling the truth. "I needed his kisses more than air."
He studied me for a minute, then slowly nodded, raising his hand in a beckoning gesture. Pavel appeared, nodding in my direction and smiling before he took a slip of paper from Abe's outstretched hand and headed for the building I'd just escaped from. "Pavel will station himself outside your door and inform anyone who might come to check on you that you're sleeping, He's there at your grandmother's request to make sure you are undisturbed… and that you don't leave—at least, that's what he'll tell them."
I arched my brow, looking pointedly at the tree. "As if he could stop me? I escaped once, didn't I?"
"Don't fool yourself, kid. If I actually wanted you to stay in that apartment—you'd stay. He'd be inside with you… and we both know from experience that he's not above using force to make sure you do what I want." He turned and began to walk away, then paused, looking back over his shoulder and jerking his head. "Well? Are you coming—or not?"
I shifted from one foot to the other, still not sure I could trust him. "I—"
"Kid, I don't have all night to play cupid—I was in the middle of teaching your mother the Kasap havasi when Yeva pulled me away."
"What will he do if Dimitri comes back and insists on seeing me? He said he wouldn't but…" My voice trailed off, not wanting to betray my brother's trust about the possessive side of his nature, "I already asked him to leave me alone when we fought, but he came back anyway." I fell into step beside him, staring down at the path.
"The secret to being sneaky is always having a game plan. Pavel will tell him to take it up with your grandma—and hand him the note she gave me. Somehow I think that will convince him to ease up—she can be almost as scary as me. Not to mention I have a feeling Rose will keep him busy—she's probably feeling a bit insecure after what happened with you."
"I would think that you would be angry with me… for attacking your daughter." I kept my eyes on the ground, afraid to glance over at him.
He laughed, surprising me. "What—you pinning her? Trust me, little Vika, that was a good thing. Rose is used to being the very best—she thinks Belikov is the only dhampir alive that can take her… and when you're the best… you get complacent. You need someone to keep you on your toes. That's what you did tonight—reminded her that even the best can be taken down when they least expect it."
"I think I got lucky—she wasn't expecting me to hurt her."
"But you would have, wouldn't you?" He glanced over at me, smiling. "That's another reason I'm taking you to him, kid. I saw how determined you were to get back to him. He needs that… someone willing to fight for him. Since Tati died… he hasn't got anyone."
My eyes widened as the pieces clicked in my head—the former queen was the woman he'd been speaking of before… the one who'd been in love with him. I didn't say anything, but I wondered how their story had ended—not that I'd ever ask. We fell into an uncomfortable silence—at least, that's how it felt for me; looking at the man beside me, you'd have thought we were out for a leisurely stroll, with no set destination in mind. I was already nervous, but the closer we got to Adrian's building, the more my stomach tensed. When we passed the hedge surrounding the garden, my eyes darted up to the darkened windows that overlooked it, wondering which one was his.
"Seventh floor," Abe offered, without even looking at me, "apartment 108."
My eyes automatically locked on the correct window, wondering if he could see us coming—was he even still at home? "My brother and Roza… they seem to have a very bad opinion of him, but I don't understand why."
"Not my place to tell you." He stopped a few feet away from the entrance, holding out his hand. "I've done my duty, Miss Belikova—I hope you find what you came for and enjoy your evening."
I slid my hand into his, giving him a tiny bow "Thank you very much sir, I—Mr. Mazur!"
He laughed as I stared down at the object he'd pressed against my palm. "I told you to call me Abe, kid. Don't look so scandalized—I remember what it's like to be young and have stardust in your eyes. You forget about the little things like playing it safe… or the fact you actually need air."
He smirked, walking away, leaving me to stare red cheeked and dumbfounded at the packet in my hand. The door to the building opened behind me, spurring me into action; I shoved the condom in my back pocket, eyes downcast as I stepped past the couple that had come out, hooking my fingers around the door before it could completely closed. With each step I took, the burning inside me grew—until I was practically running up the stairs and down the twisting hallway that led to his apartment. Then I was there—just a few feet away from him, separated by only a door.
I leaned my forehead against it, trying to calm my breathing; a wave of self-doubt washed over me, making me second-guess my plan. Should I have taken more time primping, choosing something more becoming than the outfit I had on? He'd seen me in the dress that made me beautiful—would he still want me, looking plain and unattractive, wearing a t-shirt and jeans? They were stupid, foolish thoughts that I chastised myself for—after all, I couldn't have exactly made it down the tree wearing one of the dresses Lissa had bought me and a pair of high heeled shoes.
I felt like I stood there leaning against the door for hours, trying to summon up the courage to raise my hand and knock—but in reality it couldn't have been more than a minute or two, tops. In the end, the choice was taken out of my hands, before I could make up my mind. Sometimes… fate doesn't like to be kept waiting.
The door opened and I spilled forward, trying to regain my balance so I wouldn't hit the floor; his arms shot out—first to steady me, then to pull me to close.
"You shouldn't have come."
"Tell me to go away and I will." I stared at him, my eyes locked on his, watching as he fought with himself, trying to do what he believed was right.
He lost the battle.
"I can't" His lips found mine, soft and gentle—even more magical feeling than the kisses we'd shared in the dream. All my worries and fears slid away as his mouth moved against mine; nothing mattered but the moment we were in—and the way we made each other feel.
I've had kisses before—many more than I care to admit, but compared to what we shared? They were nothing—inconsequential, silly things, perhaps preparing me for this. They never made my heart race or made me forget how to breathe; they hadn't awakened every single cell in my body, making tiny surges of energy dance along my skin—and they never completely erased my worries and doubts the way Adrian's kisses did. Before, my mind has always been full of questions—Why was I kissing someone I didn't really like? Were we moving too fast? Where should my hands go… what happens next?—but with him… I just knew. It was like the dance with Abe—my body followed my partner's lead. I was like an instrument finely tuned, waiting for his touch to awaken me so we could make a beautiful melody.
Our mouths met with a desperate hunger as he tugged me inside, kicking the door shut behind us: my fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, made clumsy by my need for him. They were far too slow, frustrating me—I only made it to the third button before my patience gave way; giving up, I grabbed the material and gave it a vicious yank.
He chuckled softly as the buttons went flying, whispering against my mouth as his fingers dug into my hips. "Feeling destructive, Angel?"
His laughter trailed off, becoming a low moan as my palms slid across the smooth, his pale skin of his chest. 'I'll fix it later," I murmured against his lips, fingers tracing across the fine line of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his dress slacks. "I have a needle and thread in my suitcase."
''You... sew?" He pulled back, looking surprised.
"Of course I do." I tugged him back down, my lips skimming along his jaw.
He made an appreciative sound, fingers slipping beneath my shirt to trace along my spine. "What else?"
"I can cook... clean.." my mouth found his again, teeth grazing his lower lip. "Does that surprise you?'
"Mhmmm. Not many girls do those things. Not the ones around here, anyway."
I chuckled, dropping my head back so I could gaze up into his eyes. "I'm not from around here—in case you didn't notice."
"Angel, I—" he whispered, but it wasn't time for words. I had waited four years to be with the boy from my dreams—and I wasn't about to waste a single second more or give him time to grapple with his conscious.
I took advantage of the moment, reclaiming his mouth, my tongue brushing against his. His arms tightened around me for a moment, then his hands hooked the hem of my t-shirt, lifting it over my head. I arched into him, gasping at the feeling of his skin pressed against mine. When he dropped his head to trail his lips along the swell of my breasts, I couldn't contain a hushed moan of pleasure. I'd never imagined I could feel the way I did—absolutely desperate to have as much of him pressed against me as I could. Suddenly, I was profoundly glad that I'd never given in to Rolan's pressuring when he'd tried to lure me to his bed—I would have wasted myself on the completely wrong person when I was meant for this. Perhaps people would call me a slut or a whore for my actions, but I just didn't care, because deep inside, I knew it was the right thing to do. I felt a prickling inside my head—my gift, confirming I was right. Adrian… was meant to be my first.
"I want you," I whispered softly.
He smiled, straightening up and trailing his fingers along my cheek. "You've got me, Angel—I'm right here."
"That's not what I mean," I could feel my cheeks flush with color, but I didn't know what to say. I reached into my pocket, pulling out Abe's small gift, offering it to him. "I want to be with you."
He stared down at my outstretched hand, then his green eyes darted up to mine. "Are you sure? We don't have to rush things—"
"I want to." My hands slid down to his belt buckle, then stopped, realizing he might not feel the same. "Unless…you don't want me?"
"I'm trying to do the right thing—but you're making it pretty damned hard on me." He frowned, his forehead wrinkling up as if he were confused.
A wash of misery hit me, making it hard to speak. He didn't want me—why would he? He could have anyone. I'd assumed too much, based on nothing more than my stupid, idiotic dreams. I stooped down, picking up my shirt, holding it in front of me. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to throw myself at you. I should go—"
He grabbed me, his mouth crushing down against mine so hard my teeth bit into the tender skin inside my lips, then he was hoisting me up into his arms and heading for his bedroom. It was all the answer I needed, erasing my fears and doubts before they could fully take root. I clung to him, nuzzling his neck; I could feel his pulse racing against my lips—his heart beating just as fast and frantically as mine.
When he gently laid me on his bed, he hovered over me for a moment, eyes completely serious as they stared down into mine. "You can change your mind anytime you want… just say the word and I'll stop and you can leave."
"After all the trouble I went to just to get here? You must be crazy if you think I'd leave." I traced my fingers along his bottom lip, smiling at his intensity.
"I am crazy—but that doesn't change the fact I'll stop if you tell me to." His lips brushed against mine in the most sweet, innocent kiss, then his hands slid down, fingers splayed—chill bumps dancing along my skin in their wake. Popping the clasp that was nestled between my breasts, his eyes darted up to my face—watching to see if I'd change my mind.
I didn't.
I trembled, waiting for him to touch me, but he just gazed down at me with the strangest look on his face; it was an emotion I couldn't place—something like wonder—as his eyes roamed across my skin. "I want to paint you," he whispered, "in a misty field, with the sun just beginning to rise. All pinks and blues and shades of gold—I'll call it 'An Angel's birth'."
I reached up, trying to pull him towards me. "It sounds beautiful."
"It will be—because it's about you." His hands slid along my waist, moving slowly, an inch at a time; I arched up, impatient—and he responded, his fingers creeping up over my breasts, thumbs rolling across my nipples. I cried out his name, digging my fingers into his shoulders, unable to believe how good it felt to have him touch me.
His head ducked down, lips repeating the gesture, then his tongue flicked out across my sensitive skin; I arched up again, pressing myself against him as he took my breast in his mouth. It was almost too much pleasure to bear—I whimpered, tugging at his hair. I wanted the feeling to last forever—but at the same time, I wanted to give him pleasure too. He pulled back completely, standing up—and I thought he had changed his mind.
"Don't stop! Not now!"
"Relax… I'm just making you more comfortable, sweetheart." He shrugged off his shirt, then bent to pull off my shoes and socks, dropping them to the floor, pressing a gentle kiss against my instep before his hands slid up to pop the button on my jeans. The zipper went next, then he was pulling them off my hips, making a sound of pleasure at the sight of the lacy panties Lissa had surprised me with. "I feel like this is a dream," he whispered, his fingers sliding up my thigh. "One I don't want to wake up from."
"We did that already," I said, my tone light and teasing, "Remember? I got woken up." I sat up, scooting towards him, jerking at his belt. "These need to come off right now. I want to see you… touch you. Please?"
He smiled, leaning forward to kiss me as he did what I requested; the material was shoved down his legs, giving me an unhampered view. I pulled back, letting my eyes roam down his body, feeling a little stunned. Though I didn't have much experienced, I'd seen enough Moroi boys to know that he was remarkably toned. His chest and abdomen actually showed muscle definition—looking almost as cut as some of the dhampirs in my class. I reached out, letting my fingers stroke along the indented muscles of his abdomen, then I took his firm length in my hand, earning a low moan as my palm slid along his warm, smooth skin. "Your body… is amazing."
He moved so suddenly it startled me—pushing me back onto the bed and pressing the full length of his body against mine. We laid there for a moment, not moving—just enjoying the feeling of how our bodies molded against each other—then he gave me a devilish smile before sliding down my body, leaving soft kisses as he went. I moaned with each teasing brush of his lips, gasping when his tongue darted out , swiping against my skin; there wasn't a single inch of me that he didn't pay attention to—then his hand slid between my legs, fingers brushing up against my panties.
It felt like every single nerve ending in my body had relocated itself to the place where he was touching, leaving me shaky and breathless. His fingers traced along the lace, then pushed the material aside, exploring and caressing parts of me that no man had ever seen. "God… you're already so wet…" he mumbled, his voice low and husky, "and I haven't even started yet."
I was about to ask what he meant, when a finger slid inside me; I arched up off the bed, gasping as my body quivered with need. When he added a second finger, I moaned, thrusting my hips up against his hand; something low in my body was tightening, like a coiling pressure that grew and grew with each gently thrust of his fingers. My hands tightened in his hair as I writhed against his palm—then his fingers slid away and his head dropped down, his eyes still locked on my face.
"What… what are you doing?"
"Three guesses." I opened my mouth, but he spread my legs wider, hands sliding underneath my ass as he lifted my hips—then his mouth was on me, kissing the spot where his fingers had been… and I lost the ability to think.
My body jerked as he ripped away the flimsy lace that covered me; his lips pressed against my wetness, kissing me there with the same hunger and intensity that he'd used when he'd kissed my mouth. His tongue swiped out, licking and probing—it hit a spot that made me cry out, his fingers rejoining his sensual game.
The sensation was overwhelming, so intense that it danced along a tightrope, just this side of pain. It was a pleasure so great that it almost hurt, though I didn't want it to end. I could feel my pulse pounding between my legs, as if my body was throbbing in time with my beating heart. I called out his name tugging at his hair and finally, he stopped—but still the pressure inside me grew. He moved up to hover over me, his green eyes dark, filled with lust and need and something else so overwhelming that I couldn't comprehend it; for an endless moment we stared at each other, then his lips were on mine and he shifted his hips, finally sliding into me.
I moaned in pleasure at having him fill me as my body clenched around him; it felt so good that I barely noticed the brief flicker of pain—but somehow, he noticed. Tearing his lips from mine, his eyes went wide with surprise; he froze, staring down at me with a look of shock on his face.
"Angel… you…"
"Shhh. Don't stop. Please."
"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, guilt chasing away the hunger that had filled his eyes before.
"It's fine… I promise." I bumped my hips up against him, shifting to slide my legs over his hips so I could cradle him against my body—but still he didn't move. I searched my mind for the right thing to say—it popped into my head instantly, ringing out in a way I was beginning to recognize as a sign from somewhere above. "I've been dreaming about you for almost four years… vision dreams, moy Dusha. It was meant to be you."
Emotions flowed across his face so fast that it was hard for me to decipher them; there was awe and astonishment and tenderness, then they were slowly replaced by need. He pressed a soft, chaste kiss against my lips—and he began to move.
I slid my hands down, grasping his firm rear as he slowly found his rhythm; one thrust, then two—I raised my hips up to meet him and we began to match our pace. Our movements were in perfect synergy as we rocked together, clinging to each other as we satisfied the overwhelming, burning need that threatened to consume us. I could feel the tension in his muscles as my fingers moved up his spine; he was trying to hold back, but I didn't understand why. I tightened my legs around him—the movement shifted my position and he brushed against me in a way that made the growing pressure within me implode; my body spasmed, tightening around him as an intense wave of pleasure hit, bowing my spine up off the bed as I pressed my head back against the pillows. Flashes of color danced behind my eyes and I was soaring—like my soul had grown too big for my body and was drifting in midair. I cried out for him—but it wasn't his name I said; it was the name my vision had given him, the one that seemed so right. My muscles locked up as wave after wave of bliss hit me—my body clenching around him with each beat of my heart. He let out a low, deep moan, and his warmth filled me as he climaxed, his hips thrusting even faster —it set me off again, another orgasm hitting just as intense as the first. I was still shaking when he slowly lost his rhythm; he collapsed on top of me, whispering 'Angel', then we lay there, bodies entwined, lips brushing and hands caressing as we relearned how to breathe.
I was so exhausted I could barely move, filled with a languorous feeling, like a contented cat, dozing in a sunny window sill; somehow, Adrian found the strength to roll us over so I lay atop his chest. As our bodies moved, another wave of pleasure hit me—less intense than the first, but still enough to make my body tighten around him; it pulled a groan from his throat, then he chuckled softly as I quivered and twitched above him.
"Are you… okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?" His fingers gently moved along my back, tracing the path of my spine.
"I'm… wonderful. Sort of floating." I mumbled, pressing my lips against his neck; my tongue darted out to swipe along his skin, tasting the tiny beads of sweat that covered him. He moaned, tilting his head to the side to give me better access; I grazed him gently with my teeth, then nibbled at the soft spot just below his ear. I wanted to explore every inch of him the same way he'd explored me, but unfortunately, it would have to wait until I had the strength to move.
"You'll probably be sore later…" His voice held a touch of worry that made me smile; something twisted in my chest at the concern he was showing—it made me light up inside. "I'm sorry. I didn't know… if I had… I would have—"
"I have spent most of my life training, Dusha—pushing my body past its breaking point. I swear to you that I feel more pain from a single class than I did when you slid inside of me." I propped myself up on my elbow, gazing down at him. My hair hung around us like a veil, making him smile. "Haven't you ever been with a dhampir before? We're pretty resilient."
"I came close once… but didn't seal the deal." Pain flickered across his face, then vanished, replaced by a tight lipped, wry sort of smile. "Of course, most of the time when I have sex… I'm so drunk I barely recollect it. There could have been fifty dhampirs for all I know—they always leave as soon as we're finished…by the time I wake up, and I don't even remember their faces or names."
I didn't like the thought of him being with other women—stupid, I know, but true. He was a skilled attentive lover, so it was obvious he'd had practice, but just thinking about those nameless, faceless women dimmed my contented mood. "You've been with fifty women?"
"Way more than that—probably in the last few months alone." He stared up at the ceiling, brow crinkling as he frowned. "You shouldn't have wasted yourself on me, Angel. You should have saved it for someone else… someone more worthy of such an amazing gift."
My fingers traced along the edge of his full lips as I tried to hide my frown. "I told you—it was meant to be you. I felt it… if I hadn't… I wouldn't be here right now." I lowered myself back down, nestling my head underneath his chin, wanting to hide my face so he couldn't see the confusion that was dancing through my brain. "Are you… saying you wished it hadn't happened?"
"No…. more like I would have tried to make it special for you if I'd known."
Since I'd thought it had been magical, that comment hurt. A lot. Apparently he hadn't felt the same things I had—hadn't felt the surge of wonder and exquisite perfectness that had accompanied every little touch. When I spoke, it came out sharper than I'd intended, my words colored with a thinly veiled sarcasm that masked the pain I felt. Thankfully, he didn't notice. "I suppose you have a scenario all lined up for virgins."
"Never been with one—at least… I don't think so. I'm pretty sure I'd remember something like that. Maybe. You're the first."
I tensed, wondering if there was a hidden reason he kept mentioning all the women he'd been with before me; was he trying to give me a subtle hint that I was just the latest of many? That I would be easily forgotten, once I left his arms—joining all the other meaningless nameless women in his past? I shifted again, suddenly uncomfortable—and at a complete loss as to what I was supposed to do. The feeling of perfect harmony was fading, replaced by an uncertainty that made my heart ache, deep inside my chest. Should I go now—was that what he wanted to happen? It seemed so wrong, somehow, cheapening the beautiful act we'd shared—but if that was what he wanted, then that was what I would do. "Well… at least now you can cross it off your bucket list, right?"
He didn't respond, but the movement of his hands stilled. I could feel him tense beneath me—and I took it as a sign.
Trying not to give in to the tears I felt welling up in my eyes, I shoved my stupid emotions away, locking them up in a tightly sealed box. "I think perhaps I should go… I'm sure you have things—"
"Because I'm that much of an asshole, right?" His fingers tightened, digging into my back as he made a sound of disgust. "Despite what you've probably heard from your brother and Rose—I'm not the kind of guy that takes a girl's innocence and then shoves her out the door."
"My brother didn't say anything, and neither did Roza." He tensed even more, making a sound that was almost an angry sounding growl. My cheeks flushed as I tried to figure out the best way to get off him—I didn't want to cause him pain, and he was still buried deep inside me. "I just thought—"
"That I was going to rush you out the door. That's what Adrian Ivashkov is known for, right? Using girls and kicking them to the curb."
"I don't live here—and until tonight I never even heard your name. I have no idea what your reputation is, other than the things you've told me." Anger welled up inside me, directed at both of us—him for ruining what had been a perfect moment, and at myself for being stupid enough to care. "You keep talking about how all the other women left when you were done, so I thought you wanted me to get out so that you could go to sleep!"
"I did want to sleep—with you beside me. I wanted to wake up and have your face be the first thing I saw." His voice was soft, full of hurt.
A strange rush of happiness filled me up at his words, but I refused to let myself smile. "Really? You're not just saying that?"
"Yeah—really. If you want to leave I won't stop you… but I want you to stay. There may be a lot of women in my past… but tonight… it was special. For me, at least."
My lips twitched up as I lost the battle, a wide smile breaking out across my face. I propped myself back up, gazing into his eyes. "It was for me too. When you said you would have made it special if you'd known… I thought you were saying it hadn't been."
He chuckled, reaching up to tuck my long hair back behind my ear. "Is that why you got so prickly? I only meant that I would have tried to make it more memorable for you. Dinner… flowers. That sort of thing. I mean… what you did… giving your virginity to me… I feel like I didn't give you anything in return."
"You made me feel amazing… beautiful… it was magical." I pressed my lips against his, my heart beginning to race again as he softly kissed me back. "I have to be up early… I snuck out."
He shifted, fiddling with the clock by the bed, then shot me the sweetest smile. "There. Alarm set. We'll be up before anyone else at Court, I promise." His hands returned to my back, resuming their teasing dance along my spine. "Stay with me Angel, please?"
" I would like that… very much." Mind made up, I collapsed on top of him, giggling as he made a dramatic 'oof-ing' sound before rolling us again so that we were side by side, gazing into each other's eyes. His lips turned up in a goofy, euphoric smile—one that I mirrored, so full of happiness that I felt I couldn't contain it.
"That name you called me… the words you used… what do they mean?"
"It came to me at that exact moment… sort of like a vision. It just seemed… right." I blushed, dropping my eyes from his, hoping he would leave it at that.
He didn't. "But what were they? I liked the way they sounded."
"Moy Dusha," I murmured softly.
"And it means?"
"It means… my Spirit." It was partially true, but I felt a surge of guilt for being less than completely honest.
Chuckling softly, he tightened his arms around me, pulling me even closer. "I like that. A lot."
As his breathing slowed and he drifted off to sleep, I closed my eyes, trying to still the racing of my mind. Like so many Russian words, Dusha had a second translation, but I couldn't tell him that. The name that had rung out in my mind hadn't been 'my spirit'—it had been 'my heart'. In the space of one evening, my world had completely changed; even though I knew next to nothing about the man beside me—as impossible as it seemed—I was already falling in love with him.
And it scared the living hell out of me—even as it filled me with more joy than I'd ever imagined possible.
A/N: WHOOOO I KEPT IT UNDER 12,000 WORDS! :oD
Dimitri's Secret Lover— you asked: Doesn't Victoria know what happened between rose and adrian? And dimitri between rose Victoria and rolan?
No, Viktoria has no idea about Rose and Adrian. As far as she knows, Rose has always been with Dimitri. She isn't aware that Rose was involved with anyone else in the interim. And Rose never mentioned what happened with Vika and Rolan to Dimitri—she thought it was Vika's secret to tell.
Tributeshadow—you asked: I never thought about them together, but it makes so much sense! What made you think of these two together initially?
From the first time I read Blood Promise, I shipped Adrian and Vika. As soon as Rolan was introduced (and then promptly dismissed), I thought Vika and Adrian would be end game—and that the spin off series would involve them meeting and falling in love despite everyone being against it. Here's the passage that launched the ship for me:
She pointed to two approaching guys. Both were Moroi. Well, who knew? Viktoria's secret boyfriend wasn't a dhampir. I guessed that wasn't too shocking, really, though the way she'd dressed tonight still bothered me. She gave him a fierce hug and introduced us. His friend was named Sergey, and he smiled politely before hurrying inside where he was apparently meeting a girl too.
I had to give Viktoria credit: Rolan was hot. His hair was dark auburn, soft and wavy.
The green of his eyes reminded me-painfully-of Adrian's.
And when he smiled at Viktoria, it was dazzling.
Kinda sounds like a certain charming spirit user, doesn't it? In fact, RM even made the comparison about their eyes.
;o)