Dear Diary,

We were met on the tarmac by an attractive dhampir woman; she seemed to be a bit older than my mother—though when a dhampir has been in service for a few years, it is often hard to tell their real age. Being a guardian is a very hard life; patrolling exposes you to the worst of the elements—and all the years spent training and fighting wear you down, aging you far beyond your years.

In spite of her weathered skin, I still thought she was quite lovely; her gray eyes were warm and her smile was bright and friendly as she hurried over to greet us.

"Dimitri called and asked me to meet you—I can't tell you how good it was to hear his voice on the other end of the line. I'm honored to meet you Ms. Belikova—Arthur spoke quite highly of you, and of course, your grandson did too. I'm Alberta Petrov—the head guardian here at the Academy." She bowed—an unexpected honor that I could tell pleased Yeva immensely.

"Dimitri and his Roza have told me of your kindness, Madam—and I think for Roza to speak warmly about anyone is a very rare thing indeed."

"Very true—she's a hard girl to please." The woman laughed, her smile widening as her attention turned to me. "Your resemblance to your brother is absolutely amazing—if you were a few years older I'd swear you could be twins."

I shook her hand, smiling at the comment. "It is very nice to meet you Guardian Petrov—though I must warn you in advance, the resemblance is only superficial. I am a great deal more outspoken than Dimitri."

Adrian snorted. "More friendly too."

His comment drew the woman's gray eyes; they narrowed ever so slightly, her brow wrinkling as she spoke. "I assume you're Johnson? Have we met before? You seem… very familiar for some reason."

"No ma'am—this is my first visit to your school." His eyes dropped to the ground, his fingers beating out a nervous rhythm on his thigh.

I reached out, touching her arm—trying to save Adrian from her scrutiny. "Did my brother mention that I hoped to observe some classes during my visit?"

"Yes he did—I've already arranged it and worked out a schedule for you. Don't worry—he also told me you were here working for Abe Mazur, so I left you plenty of time to gather the information that you need. Though if the Headmistress had bothered to tell me about the scholarship he's setting up I could have made a list of the students that need help and what supplies they are lacking."

"If you have the time I would be most appreciative of the list—though I am on vacation… I still have to do my classwork, so it would be a big help." I smiled, trying to look earnest—wanting her to believe me. "I also hope to utilize your library while I am here. I know I won't be able to check anything out, but I have reports I need to work on for my theory and ethics classes."

"Certainly—I'll give them a call and let them know to expect you." Her eyes darted back to Adrian; she tilted her head, almost squinting as she studied him. "Maybe we met at Court—I swear I know you from somewhere, Johnson—I just can't quite place it."

"People often tell me I look a lot like my mother… she was an Ivashkov. Maybe you see my resemblance to the family." Adrian glanced up at her, then averted his eyes to the ground.

"That's it—you have their eyes. In fact… you look so much like one of them that you could probably pass for his brother."

"Madam Petrov—"My grandmother stepped forward, leaning heavily on her cane. "I do not mean to be impolite, but the flight was long and I am tired—before my exhaustion gets the best of me, I would like to see my kin."

The guardian looked more than a little confused by the statement. 'I'm sorry—I don't understand what you mean. Your kin?"

"I have a cousin here on campus—my grandmother has not heard from him in a while and would like to catch up," I explained. As soon as the words left my mouth I felt a familiar prickle racing through my brain.

"Oh… of course—I was unaware Dimitri had any relatives at the Academy. Just give me his name and I'll track him down and write him an excuse from class—the day is almost over, so he won't miss too much."

"Oh my nephew is not a student—he is a guardian. Savva Luzhkkov is his name."

Petrov's eyes widened, her face paling at the name; at that moment, I knew what was coming… and I sensed it wasn't good news. My grandmother's visions had forewarned her about Dimitri; she'd had time to prepare herself and grieve in private, where no one could see her—not to mention she'd also seen that Roza would somehow set him free. But this? She had actually been excited about seeing my cousin, which meant she was about to be taken by complete surprise. Immediately I slid my arm around Yeva's shoulder, holding on to her tightly though she tried to pull away. "Viktoria… what's gotten into you, child?"

"He's… not here… is he?" I asked, my eyes locked on the guardian's stunned expression. "He's gone."

"I'm sorry… he's been missing since the battle. We counted him among the dead." Her voice was soft and apologetic—but the gentle tone did not ease the heavy weight of the words she'd said.

Yeva sagged—practically dead weight; Adrian was at her side immediately, scooping her up in his arms. "It's okay—I've got you old girl. Just hang onto me."

"I'm so sorry Ms. Belikova—he was a good man… one I considered a good friend. Johnson, I have a car waiting—let's get her to her room. I'll have the Academy doctor meet us there—"

"No—that won't be necessary. She doesn't like doctors." Adrian's voice was firm as he headed for the car; I could tell he was planning on healing Yeva if she needed it—and this time I wouldn't argue. My grandmother was the strongest woman I knew, but receiving such a shock at her age wasn't a good thing.

Yeva remained silent almost all the way across the campus; her eyes were tightly closed, tears streaming down her face. I held her hand, gently wiping away the wetness on her face, but she didn't even look at me. "I am sorry grandmother… so sorry."

"I promised Lili I would watch over him," she whispered, her hand squeezing mine. "I did not see this… I tried so many times to find him in my visions… but his image refused to come. I failed my baby sister… and now the last piece of her is gone."

"Remember what you told me when I was younger? About the angels speaking? Maybe they needed to add his voice to their beautiful song." I winced as a sharp pain lanced through my skull—a movement that did not go unnoticed by the dhampir in the front seat.

"Viktoria… are you alright? Emil—turn around, we're going to the clinic." She reached back, laying her hand against my cheek. "You've gone white as a ghost—"

"She's fine—she gets headaches." Adrian batted her hand away, his green eyes locking with mine; when another pain hit and I whimpered, he cursed under his breath. "Just get us to our rooms—please. She needs to lie down."

"Are you sure? It would only take a few minutes to have them both checked out. Our doctor—"

"They don't need to see Olendzki—I'm telling you they'll be fine." His eyes darted over, locking with hers—my skin beginning to tingle. He was pulling on his element—preparing to compel her into believing what he said.

"Dusha… I'm fine. Please… don't," I whispered, wanting him to save his strength for Yeva, just in case.

"We're here." The bearded dhampir that was driving shut off the ignition, getting out of the car; a moment later the door beside me opened and he reached in to help me out. "Can you walk, Miss Belikova? Or is the pain too bad?"

"I can walk… thank you. Just help him with my grandmother please—she is the one in need." My eyes met Alberta's gray ones across the roof of the car—she was staring at me with a worried look on her face. "Guardian Petrov? Are you alright?"

"Hmmm? Yes—I'm sorry… let me grab your bags—"

"I'll bring them up—what rooms are they in?" The man—Emil—had moved to the trunk and was already removing our luggage.

"Three fifteen and three sixteen—right across the hall from each other." She called back over her shoulder, hurrying to open the door for Adrian and Yeva.

I followed after them, fighting against the pain—praying that I could hold off the vision until we were alone. It grew stronger with every step I took—twice I had to stop on the stairs and lean against the wall. The second time, Emil dropped the bags, reaching out to steady me.

"This is not just a headache, is it?" It was a murmur, too low for anyone else to hear.

"It is—I get them sometimes. I think the change in altitude brings them on."

He eyed me skeptically, but didn't push me—instead, he left our luggage on the stairs, wrapping his arm around my waist as he guided me towards our rooms. "Your brother was my friend, Miss Belikvoa…. We talked of many things on our patrols—I know that your grandmother is a látnok."

I glanced over at him, unfamiliar with the word—but understanding what he meant. "She is."

"When I was a boy… there was a human psychic in my village. Sometimes… when the spirits visited her… she had pain like you." His expression was guarded, but the look in his eyes spoke volume; it was almost reverent—the look some people get when looking at a statue or painting of the blessed mother in church.

"I do not know what you mean," I murmured softly, dropping my eyes to the ground. Without warning, I stumbled, the hallway growing dim—beginning to waiver, right before my eyes. It was still there, but another image slowly superimposed itself over the stone walls and wooden floor; trees flickered along the edges of my peripheral vision, a narrow dirt path ribboning through them—and on that path… walked a man that I'd never seen before. "Sir… did you know my cousin Savva? I never met him…could you describe him for me?" It was the faintest whisper—but it was enough.

"He was my height—but wider, much broader than me, with dark hair and dark eyes. And… he always had a very sad look on his face." The arm around me tightened; his strength was all that was keeping me on my feet.

I nodded slowly, closing my eyes; he'd just described the man before me. "Thank you. Please… do not mention my question to anyone. I don't want anyone to know—"

"I understand—let me help you."

Though I tried my best to walk, he practically had to drag me, steering me gently towards the open door to one of the rooms; Adrian had laid my grandmother on the bed and was crouched on the floor beside her, whispering to her softly as she clung to his hand. Petrov stood near the doorway, her eyes widening as Emil helped me into the room and led me over to the small couch under the window.

"What happened?"

"She became dizzy on the stairs—I thought it best to help her. If you'll excuse me, I must grab their bags." He squeezed my hand as he answered her—silent reassurance that my secret was still safe.

"I really think—" Alberta began, but Yeva's voice cut her off.

"We will be fine, Madam. My granddaughter is not used to flying… and I have had a shock. I did not know my nephew was… dead." "Ms. Belikova, I can't tell you how sorry I am—" "Yes yes… thank you. But I must ask you—what became of his things? Do you have them still? I would like to have something… to remember him by." Yeva's voice was stronger; she was slowly coming to grips with her grief—or rather, getting a handle on it so it was easier to hide away. But then, Adrian was still holding her hand with a look of concentration on his face, so he might have had a little to do with the change in her demeanor too.

"They're still in the cabin he used—it was one of the older ones on the outskirts of campus that we never use so I saw no point in moving them." The dhampir's eyes dropped, a hint of red touching her cheeks. "After packing up Dimitri's things… I just couldn't face doing the same with Savva's. I suppose a part of me hoped that one day he'd show up."

"I must go there… to be among his things. I must pay my respects." Yeva tried to sit up, but Adrian's hand moved to her shoulder, forcing her back down.

"Not yet—you need to rest a while first."

"You don't understand kotik, I need to see—"

"I'll go—I know what to do." I whispered—the hushed sound pulling her eyes my way. I stood up, moving over to the couch, taking her hand in mine. "You will rest and let me say your goodbyes for you, yes?"

"I do not know if you can do what needs to be done, child. You have not—"

I understood what she meant—she did not realize I sometimes glimpsed the past as well as the future. I'd never told her what I'd seen that day in the garden, but I certainly couldn't explain that now—not with Petrov standing right there. "I have—twice now. Trust me, grandmother… please."

She stared up at me for a moment, then sighed, slowly nodding her head. "Guardian Petrov… will you please take my granddaughter—"

"Guardian Johnson needs to go with me, and I will not leave you alone," I interrupted, glancing over at Alberta, giving her a pleading look. "I know you are very busy Madam… but if you could stay with her and make sure she rests, I would be indebted to you."

"I need to show you where it is—you'll never find the cabin on your own. I can't have the two of you lost, wandering around in the woods… you might wander outside the wards and—."

"I will take them. I know the way." Emil cut her off, dropping the bags just inside the door. "You need to be here anyway, to fill Izolda in on what happened. I called her—she is on her way over to check over Ms. Belikova."

"I told you she didn't—"

"Guardian Johnson—it is alright." Yeva pulled her hand free from his grip, reaching up to stroke his cheek—quieting his protest. "She can give me something for my arthritis while she is here—my joints are aching terribly. Go with Viktoria—help her… please."

For a minute it looked like he would argue—I could tell by the set of his jaw and the grim, determined look on his face. "If you're sure…"

"I am. This is what must be." Her eyes flicked over to me, her head nodding ever so slightly; the fact she understood why I needed him with me confirmed what I already knew—whatever it was she was hoping we would locate at Savva's cabin… I'd have to embrace the Sight to find it.

"If you brought a pair of sturdier shoes I suggest changing into them—we will be trekking through a very dense area. You should probably put on long pants or jeans as well," Emil offered from the spot on the wall where he'd stationed himself.

"Of course… thank you." I grabbed my bag, looking around the room—unsure which of the two interior doors led to the bathroom.

"You can change in your room—this one is Guardian Johnson's. I put you ladies in the larger one since you're sharing." Alberta opened the door, moving across the hall; I followed her, trying to ignore the throbbing in my head. "I'm sorry the rooms are rather Spartan—usually the only ones who use this building are Guardians that are visiting the campus with their charges."

"Please do not worry yourself—we do not need anything fancy. You forget… I am use to living in the Novice dorm at Saint Basil's." I dropped my bag on the large bed, rooting around for what I needed.

"That's the academy I attended—tell me… is the girls dormitory still drafty in the winter, or have they finally patched up all the leaks?"

I glanced up at her, smirking. "Oh no—it still gets terribly cold. I think the administration believes that the freezing temperature makes us stronger or something—or that it will make us get dressed and to class faster. I actually tack a thick blanket over the window in my room—that helps quite a bit."

"Smart girl—just like your brother." Her smile wilted, lines of worry reclaiming her brow—making her look much older and more tired than she'd been a moment before. ""Viktoria… I'm sorry about what happened—"

"Grandmother will be fine," I hurried to assure her as I quickly changed into my jeans; I saw no point in pretending to be modest—between having two sisters and using the locker room at school, I was used to undressing in front of people. "The news just took her by surprise. She's a very strong woman—she'll probably outlive the both of us."

"I didn't mean that... I was talking about what happened to Dimitri. Our primary objective was to get the Moroi and the novices to safety and… well… I'm sorry for the pain your family went through."

I froze—slowly turning to face her. "You were there? You were one of the ones that left him?"

She flinched at my words, but had the decency to hold my gaze. "Yes. I take full responsibility for what happened—"

"And yet you felt no responsibility to notifying his family that he fell in the line of duty—an eighteen year old girl had to do that for you." My voice was low and dangerous sounding—my temper threatening to snap. "Were it not for Roza we never would have learned the truth—we would have spent years wondering what had happened to him… waiting for him to come home!"

"I realize that I should have—"

"What you should have done was not left a man behind! It is one of the first lessons they teach us at Saint Basil's—not to leave the ones we fight beside to face death alone… or worse!" I sat down, jerking on a pair of sturdy boots, my hands trembling as I tied the laces. "My brother would say that you did the right thing that night—but as I told you… I am very different than he is. Dimitri is noble—I am not. I will not hold my tongue for fear of rudeness when it is partially your fault that he is haunted by what he became."

I stood up, my eyes locking with hers—battling with the overwhelming urge to knock her off her feet. "I pray that you never experience what he did, Madam Petrov. I pray that you are confident in your actions that night—that your conscious is clear. But most of all… I pray the next time you lay your head on your pillow… you think about the fact that my brother's sleep will never be peaceful again. Night after night he is tormented by the memory of the things he did as a Striogi—that is what you did to him when you abandoned him. His soul is scarred forever!"

I brushed past her, not waiting for an answer. I stormed down the stairs, not trusting myself to remain in the same building she was in—the pain in my head was momentarily pushed aside by the intensity of my rage. Was I harsh? Yes—but it had to be said; her actions that night set a dangerous precedent for every novice in the school. Many of them would probably end up leaving a fallen guardian behind instead of trying to save them—because of what they had witnessed firsthand the night of the battle. I paced beside the vehicle, cursing under my breath, wondering why there wasn't some formal inquest conducted when a guardian lost their life—especially in a case like Dimitri's.

"I was there too—I am as much at fault as she is."

I glanced up, glaring at Emil—so intent on his words that I didn't even look at the man beside him "She is the head guardian. She failed Dimitri twice—once when she left him and then again when she couldn't be bothered to notify us he was gone."

"She cried when she boxed up his things, Miss Belikova; she has been storing them all this time—paying a fee for using the space out of her own pocket." He moved past me, walking around to slide behind the driver's seat. When we climbed in the back, his eyes found mine in the rearview mirror. "We all feel guilt about what happened to Dimitri… but Alberta… she suffers more than most."

His statement doused the heat of my anger; as it retreated I was suddenly hyper aware of the way my aching head pounded in time with the beating of my heart. My head dropped back against the high backed seat as I fought off a wave of nausea. "I will not apologize—I meant every word I said… but I will think on what you have told me and try to make peace with her."

"Tell me… are all the women in your family as outspoken as you are?"

"For the most part… yes. We speak what is on our minds and see no point in hiding what we feel. Why?

The older man chuckled as he put the car in gear, pulling away from the building. "I always wondered what it was that made a quiet, even tempered man like your brother fall in love with someone like Rose—you have given me the answer. He grew up surrounded by hot headed fiery women."

"Don't compare Viktoria to Rose Hathaway," Adrian snapped, glaring at the back of Emil's head. "They're nothing alike in the slightest."

"Oh? I was unaware you knew Guardian Hathaway well enough to determine that. Alberta told me you were new to Court… was she misinformed?" The guardian's tone was light and non-confrontational, but still, Adrian tensed beside me.

"He works for her father—you might say he has inside knowledge of some of the things Roza has done." I reached over, laying my hand on Adrian's knee, hoping to soothe him, then tried to steer the conversation to a less stressful topic. "Thank you for offering to show us the way. I am sure there are other things you would rather be doing right now."

"It is my pleasure—the only thing you are keeping me from is observing the sophomore class trying to master their roundhouse kicks." He turned off the main road onto a narrow gravel path; the trees were so close to the vehicle their branches scraped along the sides. "You saw him in the hallway, didn't you? That is what made you falter."

Adrian's hand found mine, squeezing it tightly—offering me the silent support that he somehow knew I needed. "Yes. Just a glimpse of him walking down a path. But there is more… I can feel it. It is sort of like an ever present ache that isn't easing up."

"That is why I offered to accompany you." His eyes found mine in the mirror again, holding the same look of wonder he'd worn back in the hall. "Your secret…it is a great gift… being able to see these things."

"Easy to say when you do not have to experience the agony that accompanies the visions," I murmured, leaning my forehead against the cool window. No sooner had the words left my lips then I felt the warm rush of Adrian's magic—and though I tried to jerk my hand away, he clung to it tightly. The building pressure inside me leveled out; it didn't completely disappear, but it became more manageable—a dull ache instead of a constant, overwhelming roar.

"Shh… just a little bit. To take the edge off," he murmured, giving me a lopsided smile.

I huffed, but stopped struggling, returning my head to the cool glass—watching as the trees grew closer and closer to the window as we moved further into the forest. It seemed to take forever to cross the broad, sprawling campus, but eventually Emil stopped the car, announcing we could drive no further. He led us through the trees for another mile or so until we reached a small, dirt path—the one I'd seen in the vision, superimposed over the hallway.

Emil pointed out the direction we should take—the path disappearing into a thick strand of trees—then pressed a small key chain in my hand. "It is just around the bend. Do you want me to come along or…?"

"No—thank you, but I think it needs to be just the two of us in order for it to work. We will be back… soon. You will be waiting, yes?"

"Of course—take your time. We are still inside the wards, so you will be safe on your own, but Alberta was right—we are close enough to the boundaries that I wouldn't want you wandering too far on your own." He moved, settling himself against the trunk of a nearby tree—his eyes flicking from me to Adrian. "You wouldn't happen to have a cigarette on you?"

"I…what?" Adrian did a double take, his eyes widening at the question.

"I can smell the lingering smoke on your clothing." Emil tapped the side of his nose, grinning. "I haven't had a cigarette in quite a while—I don't indulge often, but in this instance, it will make my wait a little more pleasurable."

"Uh, sure." Pulling out his pack, he handed over one of his cigarettes—they were thin and black, with a sweet scent that flavored his lips with clove. "Hang on.. I've got some matches somewhere…"

"No need—I have a lighter of my own. Thank you Guardian Johnson—funny… this is exactly the same brand as the last one I had. I bummed it off a Royal that was visiting the campus."

I grabbed Adrian's arm, moving down the path—calling back over my shoulder as I tugged him away. "We need to hurry… I feel… something."

"What kind of something?" Adrian's brow wrinkled with concern as he gazed down at me.

"Nothing," I whispered, glancing back at the Guardian, "I just wanted to get you away from him before he guessed who you were."

"Oh come on—I'm in disguise, remember? There's no way—"

"How do we know it isn't fading?" I brushed my fingers along the ring, frowning at the thought of him having to recharge it so soon. "Neither of us can see the illusion, Dusha—we see the reality. So what if it's fading more and more as the day goes on? What if they're seeing more of you and less of Guardian Johnson?"

"Shit—you're right." He sighed, glancing over his shoulder; we were out of sight, turning the bend, so he slid it off his finger. "I'll recharge it once we get inside. Good thinking Angel."

I didn't respond—I'd caught sight of the cabin and was fighting back a wave of fear. "I can't believe I offered to do this."

"If you hadn't Yeva would have insisted on doing it herself. Can you imagine her making that hike?"

"Trust me—she could do it. She wouldn't even be out of breath, unlike some people I could name," I said wryly.

"Hey I've got a smoker's lungs! At least I managed to keep up!"

"That you did." I eyed the collection of keys on the small Saint Vladimir's chain; the first didn't work and neither did the second, but the third one turned smoothly, unlocking the door. "Guess it's now or never, huh?"

The first thing that hit me when we stepped inside was the staleness of the air. It wasn't that it was stuffy or hot, it just had that strange feeling a place often gets when no one has been there for a long period of time—a complete absence of life and activity, as if the space itself were longing for its owner's return. The cabin wasn't large by any means—just one central room with a single door that presumably led to a bathroom; there was a small kitchenette along the left wall, with a large fireplace dominating the central wall—which must have served to heat the cabin in the winter. On one side of the fireplace sat a narrow single bed and nightstand; on the opposite side was a small desk, very similar to the one I had in my novice dorm room back home. Except for the thin layer of dust covering everything, it was neat and tidy, with everything in its proper place—even the small bed was made, the covers pulled tautly over a couple of lumpy shaped pillows.

"What are we supposed to be doing here, Angel?" Adrian sank down on the bed, looking around the room.

"We aren't doing anything—I'm going to try and use the sight," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "You're here to help me if the pain gets too bad when I come out of it."

"No way—we can dream walk. Let me pull you in then—"

"You can't form a dream about something you've never imagined—and I can't explain what it is I'm trying to see because I have no idea what it will be. I'm not looking for the future… I'm going to try and see the past. To find out what happened to my cousin."

"You can do that?" He sounded surprised, but I didn't take it personally, since up until the vision in the garden I hadn't known it was possible either.

"I think so—I got a glimpse of him earlier… he was walking through the forest on patrol." I sat down beside him, reaching for his hand. "That's what Emil was talking about in the car—my sight kicked in while we were walking down the hall. It hit so fast I had no chance to hide it from him."

"Do you think he'll say anything?"

"I hope not… but I can't let myself worry about it. It's out of my hands, you know?"

He sighed, reaching over to stroke my cheek. "I'm sorry. I should have hung back to help you."

"No… Yeva needed you more than I did. Perhaps Emil was meant to see… though I can't imagine why that would be." I leaned into his hand, smiling sadly. "Who can tell when it comes to fate? I never imagined I would willingly try to bring about a vision… but here we are, yes?

"If it looks like you're… I don't know—freaking out… I'm coming in after you ."

"I didn't think for a single moment that you'd do any differently, moy Dusha." I leaned over, brushing my mouth against his—allowing the press of his lips against mine to help me still my nerves. My eyes remained closed as I pulled back; I was trying to find my center—the same way I'd do if I was about to face an extremely good opponent on the mats in practice. I'd never tried to access my gift willingly—I'd always fought against it… right up until the moment when it grew so strong that it swept me away, leaving me no choice but to ride it out—praying that it would end quickly.

It happened far faster than I thought it would. One minute I was myself—aware of everything around me; the warm, comforting press of Adrian's hand in mine and the delicious scent that was so uniquely him made it hard for me to ignore the fact he was sitting right beside me on the bed. I was about to move further away from him when suddenly the cottage door was opening and the man I'd glimpsed superimposed over the hallway was hurrying inside—heading straight for the desk.

His face was hidden by shadows, but from time to time I glimpsed certain features like his dark, piercing eyes or the slightest hint of his full, sullen looking mouth. He sat down, his movements quick and precise as he pulled out a sheet of paper and began writing something down on it—though once he paused, burying his head in his hands, his broad shoulders shaking as he began to cry. The urge to comfort him was eating away at my insides—he seemed so… broken… like he'd lost the will to live—but I knew that even if I moved from where I sat, I wouldn't be able to help him; the emotions I was sensing were nothing more than a memory of what had been, so soft words or a gentle touch would do nothing to relieve his pain. Wiping his eyes on the back of the hand, he returned his attention to his writing—folding the paper and sliding it in an envelope, then scrawling something on the front. He moved towards me, pulling open the top drawer of the nightstand—removing a small, leather bound book and hiding the envelope away somewhere inside it. His dark eyes closed as he whispered something; it was too faint for me to hear but somehow I knew what the hushed words had been—he'd said, 'God forgive me'. I watched as his large hand moved to hover over a small gold trinket on the nightstand—and then it all disappeared.

My eyes shot open, immediately flicking to the drawer; I jerked my hand free from Adrian's—moving without conscious thought.

"Angel? You okay? What did you—"

"This," I whispered, pulling out the book. My hands trembled as I flipped through the pages; the envelope I'd seen was there, halfway through the book—the large block letters on the front spelling out my brother's name. "I thought it would be addressed to Yeva… but it's for Dimitri," I murmured, tracing my fingers across the writing.

"Don't open it—let your grandmother do it. Whatever's in there might be something your brother doesn't want you to see." The mattress shifted as he moved to examine the drawers contents, pulling out another book and thumbing through the pages. "There's more books in here—I think they're journals. God… there must be two dozen of them." He set the book aside, opening the remaining drawer, then whistled. "Double that—there's more of them in here. Your cousin must have been pretty serious about recording his thoughts for posterity."

A shiver danced down my spine as I glanced at the stacks of books. "We'll take them back with us."

"Why? They're just—"

"I don't know… I just get the feeling we need to." I closed the book I was holding, leaving the envelope in its hiding place. "You're right though… about grandmother opening it—that way if Mitya gets upset, he can take it up with her and not me."

"That's what I was thinking—I don't want you fighting with him… I don't like you being upset." He began pulling the books out of the drawers, stacking them on the bed beside me. "Anything else you think we should take?"

I glanced around, looking for the small gold trinket I'd seen in the vision. "Yes… but I don't see it anywhere. It's a box—well…not a box exactly… it's round and gold, with hinges on the back."

"Like an old fashioned music box? My aunt collected those—the kind you wind with a key?"

"Yes! That's exactly what it looked like!" I stood up, moving to the desk to begin searching through its drawers. "He reached for it right before the vision faded… I got the sense it was important to him for some reason."

"Maybe it's like… a family heirloom or something?"

"I don't think so—it looked very expensive." I sat back on my heels, sighing as I shut the bottom drawer. "According to Yeva all our heirlooms are small things that are mostly handmade—like your ring."

He stopped working, turning to look at me with wide, surprised eyes. "You're not afraid I'll lose it? Something like that… it's irreplaceable, Angel—I'm not known for being overly responsible. I lose my keys at least twice a week."

"It was meant for you—Yeva said it was a gift for my tom cat." I felt my cheeks flush as I averted my eyes, embarrassed by the significance; he might not realize it was meant to be a wedding band, but I certainly did, though in my defense— I hadn't known it at first. "She said her grandmother had seen what would be needed and passed it down to her. She gave it to me the night of the party, just a few hours before we met. All this time she saved it, waiting for the right moment."

"That's why she kept staring at it when we were at the café, isn't it?" He pulled the ring out of his pocket, gazing down at it with a look of awe on his face. "It's amazing to think that she's known we would meet for so long, don't you think?"

"Even more amazing is the fact my great grandmother knew—she died before my mama was born." I walked into the small kitchen, checking the cabinets—just to be sure Savva hadn't hidden the music box away in the least likely place.

"It's more than just a ring… isn't it?"

His soft question made my shoulders tense; I didn't want to lie to him—but I also didn't want him thinking I was reading more into him wearing it, or that I expected anything in return. " I think so… I believe it was my great grandfather's wedding band. If my grandfather had lived… he would have worn it before you."

He didn't say anything; I was afraid to turn and face him. It was silly, but I had the childish feeling that if I just didn't look, everything would be okay. "If that makes you uncomfortable… we'll find another ring. Or maybe a silver chain would work… if you want to keep up the disguise." I closed my eyes when I heard him move—afraid he was going to return the ring right then and there, not wanting any part of what accepting it might mean.

"You're jumping to conclusions again," he murmured, his arms sliding around me from behind. "I can't promise you anything more than today, Angel… but I can tell you that I'm honored to wear your ring."

"It's your ring," I whispered softly. "Even if you walked away right now. It was meant for you, Dusha… I would never take it back." I sighed, leaning back against the solid warmth of his body, feeling a surge of relief that he didn't seem the slightest bit put out. "I'm sorry… I should have said something about the ring. I honestly didn't know at first—"

"Shhh—it's okay. Hell, I suppose I knew deep down that it had to be important to you, otherwise you wouldn't have been wearing it around on a chain. It's funny…" his voice trailed off, lips brushing against my neck, "when I first picked it up off the floor… it felt almost warm in my hand. I know that sounds stupid—"

"No—" I turned around, surprised at what he'd said. "I felt it too. Only it was like a tingle for me… I could feel it in my head. The night I came to see you… I felt like I had to wear it."

"Same thing I felt when I took your hand that night—of course… that was after half a bottle of whiskey, so I could have been imagining things."

"Or it could be fate," I offered, giving him a teasing smile.

"I never put much faith in fate or destiny before, not really. But all this… it just might make a believer out of me." He returned my teasing smile with one of his own, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Whatever this is… it feels good."

"Despite the fact I'm the sister of your mortal enemy?" I forced myself to keep my tone light—not wanting him to feel like I was pushing things. I knew he and Dimitri wouldn't become friends overnight—there was too much trouble in their past and too much animosity between them—but I held on to the hope that one day the two men would be able to at least be in the same room without threats of bloodshed.

An expression of surprise flickered across his face as he thought about what I'd said. "Usually when I think about him… about what happened with Rose… I feel like I can't breathe, you know? Like an elephant is sitting on my chest, crushing my lungs. It still hurts… but not like before. I can even admit that it was more her fault than his; Rose isn't one to take no for an answer when she sets her mind on something—and she's pretty hard to resist. I still hate what he did… but I don't think I hate him anymore."

"That's good. Maybe Yeva is right… the wounds are starting to heal." I didn't ask if he still felt enraged at Roza—for me it was enough that his anger towards my brother was dimming; discussing whether or not his love/hate feelings towards his ex had changed could wait for another day. "Now if we can just make Dimitri see reason, you won't have to hide who you are from him."

"Tired of Guardian Johnson already?" He smiled, pulling away—moving back to the books on the bed.

"How can I be tired of a man I cannot see? It's just that… if we meet my family for a meal… I want to know that they're looking at you and recognizing the good, kind man you are. I want them to know you the way I do—to see the real you that you hide away the mask you wear at Court."

"I don't—"

"You do. Everyone does, Dusha—it's only natural. We hide who we really are from the world, showing others what we think they expect to see. We bury the things we think they won't accept or understand—for me it's hiding away my temper and my visions…it's reining in my outspokenness and ignoring the things I really want in favor of what everyone presumes. I'm expected to be the sweet, polite youngest daughter—my family's docile little declawed kitten…so that is what I show people. I hide away my true self because I know they could never accept the real me."

"And what is it you think I hide behind?"

"That's easy—your reputation. You let everyone see the irresponsible party boy—you would rather they believe you're a spoiled aristocrat with an alcohol problem than to have them know that your mind is plagued by Spirit. You hide the sensitive, caring man you are, letting them believe the worst." My voice was as soft as his; it was hard to express what I was trying to say since I didn't want to hurt his feelings.

"Because when I finally trusted someone enough to let them see the real me… I wasn't good enough," he mumbled, turning back towards the bed. "She said I was a victim—but I know what she really meant. I'm a loser…not worth her precious time."

"You were good enough… she just wasn't smart enough to realize how lucky she was to have your love. In the end, she was the real loser, Dusha—because she had a priceless, wonderful treasure in her hands and she let it slip right through her fingers." I was walking on a slippery slope—he knew by now that I had my brother on a pedestal, set higher than any other man; Dimitri was a treasure too—just a completely different kind.

When he didn't respond, I moved toward the bathroom; it was the only place I hadn't searched—that was when he whispered. It was as soft as a sigh but still I heard it—and recognized it as a prayer.

"Please… let me be good enough this time… for her."

I said nothing—after all, it wasn't me he was talking to; I just whispered a prayer of my own—that somehow I'd be able to make him see his true worth, giving him back everything that Roza had stripped away so carelessly.

The music box wasn't in the bathroom; I really hadn't thought it would be there—the only reason I'd wasted my time looking was in the interest of being thorough. "It's not in there either."

"Maybe a student made off with it—could have broken in to have an after curfew party and took it as a souvenir."

"The door was locked though—and there's no sign of forced entry." It was another unanswered question to add to the growing list in my mind. I sighed, rubbing my temples, frustrated at having hit a dead end. "I'm beginning to feel like the teenage detective in the mysteries that my sisters use to read all the time—only she always managed to solve the puzzle by the end of the stupid book. I just keep ending up with more unanswered questions."

"Is your head hurting?" He reached for me, thinking my gesture was one of pain instead of one of stress. "Do I need to—"

"No—I'm okay." It rolled off my tongue automatically as I evaded his hand—and to my immense surprise, I realized that my answer was actually the truth. "I actually feel better—the pain is totally gone."

"And before? How bad was it—honestly?"

"Pretty bad," I admitted. "If it was just a headache I could handle it—it's the pressure that gets to me… it gets so bad that it feels like my head is in a vice."

His forehead crinkled, a speculative look crossing his face; I saw something flicker in his eyes before he dropped his gaze to the floor. "What? What's with the look?"

"It's nothing really… just a thought I had. Forget about it—"

"Uh uh—no way. You can't just make that face and expect me to dismiss the whole thing. " I crossed my arms over my chest, scowling at him. "Start talking."

"I think I know the feeling you're describing. Sometimes… right before things go haywire in my head… I feel sort of… overflowing. Like I'm going to explode if I don't use Spirit—that's when things go all off kilter." He shrugged, still not looking at me. "It's interesting that you feel something similar with your visions."

"Did my aura go all funny again?" I asked, unable to keep the worry I felt from coloring my words.

"Dunno—I didn't look." He glanced up at me, his lips curving in a sheepish grin. "I was too worried about what you were doing to think about checking it."

"You're not just saying that so I won't freak out?" I chewed at my bottom lip, trying to fight back the panic I felt fluttering in my stomach.

"If there was a bible here I'd swear on it. Suppose I'll have to make do." He scooped up one of the journals, resting his palm on it as he cleared his throat dramatically. "I solemnly swear on the words of your cousin that I have no clue what your aura did. There… believe me now?"

I giggled at how serious he looked—his comical routine had eased back the panic—for the moment, at least. "You see there? That's another thing you hide away. You're not only funny… but you have a way of soothing people's minds and making them forget their worries."

"Yeah except for the people who worry about what I'm up to." He tossed the book down, reaching for one of the pillows, stripping it of its case. "My mother use to be like that—every time I called her the first thing out of her mouth was to ask if I was in trouble."

"She doesn't do it anymore?" I arched a brow as I watched him remove the second pillow case; he began loading the journals into them—but he didn't divide them evenly; there were far more books going into the second one—the first one was almost empty.

"Oh I'm sure she would if I talked to her. I can't—she's in jail for plotting against my aunt and no one will tell me where she's locked up." He tried to sound matter of fact but the pain in his voice was as obvious as the tension in his jaw.

"But… that's not right. If you want to talk to her she should be allowed to call—or you should be able to see her on the days they allow visitors. It's not like she was the one who actually killed Queen Tatiana." I moved forward, laying my palm against his back. "Can't you ask Lissa or—"

"I have—she claims she doesn't know where mom is. I could push her to find out… but I don't want to add to her stress—I know what that can do to a person." There was a yearning in his tone that betrayed him; he was sparring Lissa's mind, but at a great personal cost to himself.

"The Guardian Council would know, yes? They are the ones that would've arranged her transport." There was a thought brewing in my head—one that was dangerous, and could end up costing me dearly—since I couldn't pull it off alone. "You do want to see her, right?"

"Of course I do—she's my mother. She may not be a very good one… but she tried her best. Some women just aren't maternal." He shrugged, turning to face me, his eyes widening as they locked on my face. "Whatever you're thinking… no."

"You don't get to tell me 'no', Adrian Ivashkov. You aren't the boss of me." I gave him a look, pointedly averting my eyes to the pillowcases. "That was a very smart idea… using the pillowcases."

He grabbed my arm, trying to make me look at him; I closed my eyes so I wouldn't be swayed to give in by the anxious look on his face. "Don't try and change the subject Angel. What are you—"

"Whatever I am thinking cannot be accomplished in the middle of the Montana woods … so relax. It's just an idea… I don't even know if it would work. Once I've thought it out more, I promise I'll let you in on it, okay?" It wasn't a fib—not really. I would tell him the idea…I just wouldn't tell him all the nitty gritty details—if I did he would end up balking and pitch a fit, determined to stop me.

"Tell me now —I mean it Viktoria. The expression on your face scares the hell out of me—it's like the look Rose gets when she's planning something completely reckless and stupid."

"It's not reckless—and I am not Roza! I don't… how do you say it? Go off halfcocked!" I huffed, irritated at the comparison. "I happen to be an expert at sneaking in places I'm not supposed to be. At school I'm the one people come to when they want to get back the things that the dorm matrons have confiscated—and my sophomore year I broke into the headmasters office after curfew and moved every single piece of furniture outside into the quad. They still don't know who did it—I am that good. One of the things my grandmother taught me was how to move about unseen and undetected—and if you ask her, she will tell you that I was a very apt pupil!"

"Vika—"

"Like I said… it's just an idea. I can't do something of that magnitude without proper preparations. Besides… you forget—I'm a visiting novice. If I get caught I can claim it was a harmless prank—I could tell them that as soon as my classmates heard I was going to Court, they dared me to break in and bring something back as proof—an act to show how brave and skillful Saint Basil's novices are."

"Are you actually standing there and telling me you would willingly break into the guardian's headquarters to find out where my mom is?" He spoke slowly, enunciating each word, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes—what's the big deal?"

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you could get in? They could lock you up for shit like that—"

"Are you always this over dramatic Dusha?" It was really rather adorable to see him so concerned over something I hadn't even done yet.

"Over dramatic? It would be putting your entire future on the line!" He shot me an exasperated look, running his fingers through his hair; I was beginning to realize it was a nervous quirk of his—one that was quite endearing.

"Don't be ridiculous. I just told you I already have an excuse. It's not like they have a reason to doubt my word—right?"

He made a sound of disbelief, shaking his head. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you do that?

"Because you want to see your mother," I said, simply. "You need to see her—that's enough of a reason for me."

He stared at me, open mouthed—completely shocked at what I'd said.

"Is that really so hard to belie—"

He moved so fast it startled me, reaching out and grabbing my arms; his mouth smashed down on mine—so hard that our teeth scraped as he pulled me flush up against his body. His kiss was full of hungry passion and need—so intense that it made my knees weak; my body flare to life—instantly I felt flushed and achy, wanting to feel his skin pressed against mine without anything between us. My hands moved, sliding under his shirt as his fingers dug into my waist; before I knew it, we were falling backwards, collapsing across the bed. My legs wrapped around his hips automatically as our bodies rocked against each other—trying to fuse together, but unable to breach the barrier of our clothing.

His hands moved up, fingertips hooking the hem of my t-shirt—tugging it up so his lips could dance along the lacy cups of my bra. I moaned softly in response—arching up to encourage him as his palms slid over my breasts, gently massaging them. He changed the rhythm of his hips—teasing me; each thrust was slow and languorous—the movement of his hardness against me pressed the seam of my jeans taught against my body, leaving me quivering and begging him for more. I needed him to move faster, but he didn't—he chuckled against my lips in response to my soft pleas. Frustrated, I locked my leg around his thigh, my hands dropping to his shoulders and I flipped us over—pinning his hands to the bed. He bucked up against me in response—his loud moan indicating my initiative pleased him.

"Do you like that moy Dusha?" I whispered as I trailed my lips along his jaw, speeding the movement of my hips as I hovered over him. "Do you like my taking charge?"

He gasped as I gently grazed his neck with my teeth, then moaned again when I gently bit down. "Holy fuck—that feels amazing."

"Wait until I work my way lower," I whispered, releasing one of his hands so I could tug his zipper down. "I want to taste you the same way you tasted me."

He thrust up against me again, groaning. "You don't have to—"

The sound of the wooden porch creaking froze us both in mid-motion; It could only be one thing—Emil coming to see what was taking us so long. Adrian moved so fast that we almost fell to the floor—sliding out from under me as I tugged down my shirt—both of us trying to trying to slow our breathing and act like nothing was wrong. He pulled up his zipper, crossing the room in three strides to crack open the door and peer outside—cursing softly at whatever it was he saw outside… and at that moment, I suddenly realized it could be something much, much worse than Emil. In an instant, I went on the alert; I launched myself up off the bed and sprinted across the room— shoving him aside to slam the door and lock it. Adrenaline was shooting through me, setting off a natural fight or flight response—though for me, flight was not an option. I would fight to my dying breath to protect the man beside me.

"How many?" I whispered. He stared at me, not answering—something flickering across his face that I didn't understand. "Adrian! How many of them are there?"

"I only saw one—"

"Look for something I can use as a weapon—" I braced my back against the door, eyes darting around the cabin. "The fireplace poker—grab it for me, then go into the bathroom and don't come out, no matter what you hear."

"Angel—"

"Don't you dare fucking argue with me," I whispered fiercely; my body was tense, waiting for the door to stark shaking any second. "If you care about me at all you will do what I say—this is what I've spent my whole life training to do!"

"Are there an overabundance of raccoon attacks at Saint Basil's? Cause around here… they're usually pretty timid."

"Stop arguing and…what?"

"It's a raccoon, sweetheart—a pretty big one… but I don't think he wants to eat me." His lips twitched up as he watched me trying to process what he'd said. "But thank you for protecting me from it."

"It's not…" I slumped against the door, still quivering from the adrenaline rush that was surging through my body. "I thought it was a Strigoi."

"Yeah… your reaction kind of telegraphed that loud and clear." He stepped closer, pulling me away from the door to cradle me against his chest. "I'm sorry—I didn't mean to scare you."

"When I heard you curse I thought… never mind." I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his neck, my heart still racing. "I wasn't scared… well I was, but not for me. I don't have a stake… I wasn't sure if I could keep you safe."

He pulled back, cupping my face in his hands and forcing me to meet his eye. "You are the most amazing woman I've ever met Viktoria Belikova."

"I don't feel particularly amazing right now," I murmured, "considering I just made a complete jackass out of myself."

"Bullshit. You were willing to take on a Strigoi with a fucking half assed weapon to protect my lousy ass."

"But it wasn't a Strigoi. It was just a stupid—"

The press of his lips silenced me, but the kiss was far too brief. "As much as I hate to say it… we need to get back. It was dangerous letting ourselves get carried away like that. Especially being so close to the wards… they've already been breached once—and we both know how that turned out."

I closed my eyes, sighing. "You're right…"

"Why do I sense a 'but' coming?" He teased, his voice soft as he pulled away from me.

"But I really want to kill that stupid raccoon for interrupting us."

"That makes two of us—trust me. I'm going to have trouble walking back to the car."

Worry flooded through me—had I shoved him aside too hard? "Did I hurt you? Let me see—"

"No—you didn't," he chuckled softly, capturing my hand and moving it to his crotch. "Do they have the phrase 'blue balls' in Russia?"

"Oh!" I smiled, pressing my palm around his obvious arousal. "I could always sneak into your room later—after grandmother is asleep."

He groaned, his hips arching forward. "Somehow I don't think she'd care if you walked out while she was wide awake—but you've got a deal, either way."

I stretched up, kissing his cheek, then moved to the bed, reaching for the heavier of the two loaded pillowcases. "Like I said before… this was an excellent idea."

"That one's mine," he said, scooping it up before I could grab it.

"Why? Because you're the man? Never mind the fact I'm probably stronger that you are, right?"

"Ah—but I'm supposed to be a dhampir too, remember? Gotta keep up appearances, Angel."

I huffed, picking up the lighter pillowcase and throwing it over my shoulder like a knapsack. "I cannot argue with your logic—but that doesn't mean I like it."

He winked at me, smacking me on the ass as he walked towards the door. "That's a good thing—a refreshing change after being with a woman who argued even when she knew she was dead wrong."

"Wait—" I reached out, laying my palm against the door, preventing him from opening it. "The ring—"

"Oh shit—glad you remembered." He set the pillowcase down, pulling out the ring and clenching it in his palm; I sighed as I felt his power brush along my skin.

"What does it feel like? When I use it?" He slid the ring on, smiling at the sound of pleasure I made.

"It's hard to explain…like your warm lips dancing along my skin mixed in with the comforting press of your hand holding mine. It's a feeling of contentment, but there's a hint of pleasure too."

"Interesting… It doesn't feel that way for me when Lissa or Sonya use their Spirit. I can tell when their pulling on it, but it's more a mental thing."

"It's not like that for me when other Spirit users do it—when Lissa or Oksa uses it… my skin crawls. It's like insects are swarming over me."

"Maybe it's because I'm so charming that even my element sweeps you off your feet," He teased, stooping to reclaim his bundle; he swayed a little as he stood, a grimace replacing his flirtatious smile.

"You okay?"

"Just tired. I think I need a nap when we get back… to prepare for our midnight rendezvous. The last few days have been a little—"

"Chaotic?"

"I was going to say busy," he said, leaning over to brush a feather light kiss across my lips, "but well worth it."

"You might change your mind about that before we get back to Court. A few days with Yeva could drive anyone up the wall."

"Nope—my mind is already made up, and I'm not changing it. Besides… a few days with you more than makes up for your grandmother bossing me around—and I don't even mind that. I like her—she's a pretty cool lady."

I chuckled softly as we stepped outside, turning to lock the door behind us. "Cool? I could think of a few words a little more accurate. Cantankerous. Temperamental. Bitchy, even."

"That's all part of her charm. She's like her granddaughter—she cuts through the bullshit and speaks her mind."

"Where do you think I learned it from?"

We fell into companionable silence as we headed back to where we'd left Emil; as we walked and I took in our surroundings, I felt a strange sense of…. Well, for lack of a better word… peace. Despite the fact I hated Saint Vladimir's for what had happened to Dimitri while he was there, it was easy to see why he chose to overlook what had happened to him on the night of the battle and to focus on the fond memories of the time he'd spent on the campus instead. The natural beauty of the grounds was breathtaking; the air was clear, and the forest itself was untouched by humanity. Of course, it was where he'd fallen in love, so that certainly played into the equation too. I could easily imagine him patrolling the woods, enjoying the simple pleasure of the solitude and silence as he replayed the conversations he'd had with Roza throughout the day or relieved the tiny things like having the chance to hold her hand.

I didn't realize my hand had automatically slipped into Adrian's as we walked…not until we rounded the bend and Emil spotted us—his eyes dropping down to our entwined fingers as his lips curved upward in a small smile. Immediately I increased the distance between us, letting go of Adrian's hand as I fumbled for an excuse.

"We… uh… were just—"

"Being young and enjoying a stroll in the woods? No harm in that." The guardian winked, pushing away from the tree he'd been leaning against. "Did you find what you came for?"

"My cousin's journals—we thought my grandmother might like them." I gestured to the pillowcase I held before handing him back the key ring, then glanced back in the direction of the cabin. "I suppose before we go back to Court I'll need to return and box up his things so we can ship them home."

"I can arrange to have that done for you—while you are here you should take advantage of trying your skills against our novices instead of burdening yourself with sad tasks."

"I'd appreciate that very much—and I will contact Dimitri and let him know his belongings need to be collected. Guardian Petrov should not have to be burdened with the cost of storing them now that he's alive again."

"She would not see it as a burden, I assure you." He gestured for us to precede him up the trail, falling back to cover the rear. "Once we are further from the wards I will resume the lead, but for now, just try to stay on the trail and not wander—"

His voice died off abruptly, a low chuckle taking its place. I glanced back over my shoulder to find him frozen on the trail, staring at us with amusement. "Is everything alright?"

"Hmmm… oh yes. I just…" he chuckled again—then broke out in a full on laugh, rubbing his hand across his face. "The cabin was a little dirty?"

I glanced over at Adrian, bewildered by the question. "It wasn't messy… just a little dusty, why?"

"I would suggest you wipe off your backsides before we get in the car—you are both covered in dust from the top of your heads to your feet."

I widened my eyes as my cheeks heated—obviously he could tell exactly what we'd been doing. "We had to search for something—very thoroughly. That is how we got all dirty."

"And yet your front sides are remarkably clean." Emil snorted, trying to contain his amusement. "I was young once, Miss Belikova. I may be old now, but I am not a fool."

"She started it—she can't keep her hands to herself." Adrian's lips twitched up in smug grin; I elbowed him in the ribs, huffing as I turned and stormed down the trail.

"Is she always so… mercurial?" I heard Emil ask as they followed after me.

"Beats me—I've only known her three days, though it feels like a hell of a lot longer. My gut instinct is yes—but that's not a bad thing. It keeps a man on his toes—she's a firecracker."

"I can see that… bright, beautiful and prone to loud outbursts."

"Less talking and more walking gentlemen," I called back over my shoulder—glad they couldn't see the embarrassed flush on my cheeks. Increasing my pace to almost a jog, I smiled at the sounds of protest they made; if they had to focus on keeping up with me, there would be considerably less conversation between the two of them—and since they were discussing me… that would be a very good thing indeed.

A/N Okay—this was supposed to be the chapter with Alto… but as I entered my hand written notes, Vika and Adrian kept going rogue and expanding it, until it ended up being almost 34,500 words. That's way too much—even for me—so I split it into three chapters, all of which I am posting at once. So today you get three updates instead of just one. Hope you enjoy it… especially Ch 15. ;o)

1/1/2015: Edited to fix formatting since likes to screw it up -.-

Thanks to those of you who pmed me pointing it out—I had no idea it had run things together like that.