Dear Diary,

I will let you in on a secret—it is something I believe that everyone knows deep down, but most people chose to ignore. Girls are not as sweet and naively innocent as they often pretend to be; they brag and swap stories and exaggerations about their sexual conquests the exact same way that boys do—and sometimes, I suspect, they can be even more graphic in their descriptions. The important thing in either case is to know how and when to separate fact from fiction.

My sophomore year, Tzuzana Rostav bragged to all the girls in the locker room about how she often let the senior Moroi boys feed on her. I didn't believe her for several reasons—namely because the girl is a well-known liar who likes to make things up to get attention. While our classmates gathered around her, giggling and asking questions, I just rolled my eyes and tried to tune out her tales of the non stop ecstasy she felt when they sank their fangs into her skin. I dismissed the whole thing as another one of her fables, trying to ignore what she said. It wasn't until I heard the same thing from a far more reliable source last year that I realized I might have been mistaken in judging Tzuzu so harshly.

One night, my sister Sonya stumbled into the house rather drunk; the noise she made was dreadfully loud, so naturally I went down to try and help her—hoping to silence her before she woke Mama and Yeva since they both needed their sleep. There were bite marks on her neck that she hadn't bothered to cover—she saw me staring at them and decided I was old enough to be enlightened about… certain things. Sonya described the act, detailing the endorphin rush—claiming it was a hundred times more powerful than the brief euphoria that sometimes hits when you push your body to its endurance point; according to her, it was like a never ending orgasm that kept crashing down over her again and again, until the pleasure drowned her—overwhelming her to the point where she practically blacked out. While she giggled and talked, her eyelids fluttered shut and her breathing sped—as if the mere memory of her forbidden tryst was powerful enough to reawaken the rapture that she'd experienced.

I was expecting to feel the same thing after the initial sting from Adrian's fangs slicing into my flesh—only what I felt… well… it wasn't anything like what Tzuzana and Sonya had described at all.

It was better—in a different, completely unexpected way.

There was physical pleasure, but it was just the normal enjoyment I'd feel at having him suck gently on my neck—my body's instantaneous reaction to having him so close to me, with his lips and tongue gently caressing my skin. What threatened to drown me was another feeling that was almost indescribable, something I felt on an almost spiritual level—not a pleasure of the flesh at all, but rather one that came from somewhere much deeper and much more meaningful—my soul.

It was a thousand times more intense than what my sister had relayed—the most powerful, perfect thing I'd ever experienced. Something that wasn't about sex or physical gratification or searching for the perfect high; it was a bigger than that—it was so much more important than any of those things. It was a moment of perfect synchronicity that stretched out endlessly as our energies blended; a feeling almost like our souls were reuniting for the first time since being torn apart at their inception. I could feel them ebbing and flowing between us, merging together as he drank from me, and I swear that I could feel our auras melding together too—throbbing in time to the beat of our hearts, accompanied by a sweet, chiming melody that echoed through my mind. As he fed, I understood what Yeva had meant about people missing the deeper meaning of such an exchange; the pleasure involved wasn't supposed to come from any stupid endorphin rush—it was meant to come from this.

It was about nurturing someone that you loved—freely giving them something they needed, that only you could give them. It was like I could feel his soul healing itself with every swallow that he took, filling up the holes in his essence and repairing his poor, battered mind. Sharing blood was the ultimate gift… not just for one of us but for both of us at the same time—because I suddenly comprehended so, so much more than I ever dreamed was possible. I understood why Spirit users had to use the magic, no matter how great the personal cost might be—it wasn't their power at all… they were only vessels for the Divine, borrowing the very energy that had brought about creation. The power to heal or bring someone back from the dead… that belonged to one entity—and sharing it bore a very high price.

Each time they channeled the magic, they lost a bit more of who they were—it was the supreme sacrifice… one of self.

My hands fell away from where they'd been cradling the back of his head, fingertips slowly traveling down the length of his spine; he moaned against my neck, pulling me closer to his body. That was all it took—suddenly, the dynamic shifted; a switch inside me flipped, unleashing a part of me that I hadn't even realized was there. In the blink of an eye, I became an aching, lust filled thing—the feeling of him gently nursing at my neck reminding me how his mouth felt doing the same thing somewhere much lower on my body; it spiked my desire from a slowly smoldering ember to a raging inferno that burned me to cinders from within.

I was hungry. Not for food or blood—but for him.

I wanted him without any preliminaries—no soft teasing kisses or caresses would do. I needed him inside me, hard and fast, completing the current of energy between us as only he could do. My hands slid between us, caressing him through his jeans; the movement spread the fire from me to him like a lit match to gasoline soaked kindling—pulling a sound from his throat that could only be described as a growl. His hands tightened on my waist as he moved us, not stopping until my back hit the wall—pinning me against it with his body. I gasped as his mouth left my throat—his kiss swallowed my breath, his lips seasoned with the taste of my blood.

He tore himself away from my mouth, his eyes immediately locking with mine; his pupils were so enlarged that their blackness almost swallowed up the emerald color of his irises entirely. "Angel," he whispered, "I'm sorry… so sorry—"

He didn't finish the apology—his mouth crushed against mine, so hard that his fangs sliced my lips. I didn't care—his demanding, urgent kiss was exactly what I needed. I moaned against his mouth, pressing myself against his body, popping the button on his jeans and jerking down the zipper with so much force it broke—then my hand was sliding inside, his skin warm and silky against my palm.

The sound he made was eager and hungry; my pants were gone in a single rough jerk as he shoved them down my thighs. I cried out softly as his fingers slid against me—my hips thrust forward, grinding against them as I struggled to push the stiff denim down his legs. His hand moved away to grasp my hips, lifting me; I braced my back against the wall as I kicked my legs free of my jeans, immediately locking them around his waist to pull him closer—so close that I could feel him brushing against me, hard and ready. I gasped as he entered me; he swallowed my breath again—it didn't matter, I didn't need air… I needed him to move.

He sensed what I wanted so desperately—or perhaps the same hunger that clawed at my insides was driving him too; he began to pound himself inside me, harder and faster than the first time we'd been together, staring directly into my eyes the entire time, never breaking our shared gaze. With each thrust my pleasure grew until I toppled over the edge, crying out his name as spots and sparklers danced across my vision; he stopped, buried deep within me—tightening his arms around my waist, moving away from the wall.

"Dusha…?" I gasped out—he silenced me with a kiss before pulling out of me, then lowered me to the ground.

There was a wicked smile on his face as his fingers hooked the hem of my t-shirt, pulling it over my head. My bra went next, his hands sliding over my breasts, gently exploring them as he whispered, "I want to watch myself slide in and out of your body Angel. Do you trust me?"

I didn't speak—I didn't have to; he knew what my answer would be. He turned me around, pulling me against his body as he bent me over the desk, pushing himself back inside me—immediately reclaiming the hard, fast rhythm he'd abandoned a moment before. I thrust back against him, mindless sounds of pleasure spilling from my lips as he buried himself deep inside my body—the pressure slowly rebuilt inside me, growing and expanding with every beat of my heart, even stronger than it had been before. His breathing grew labored as he lost his pace—collapsing across my back, his hips still bucked furiously as his mouth reclaimed my neck. When he bit down, I cried out—everything I had felt when he initially fed was there, only this time... it was tinged with our sexual pleasure too, meshing and honing the emotions and feelings until they were so intense I completely lost all sense of self. I couldn't tell where I ended and he began—we were just one perfect entity… the way we were meant to be. I felt the warmth of his release filling me—a moment later, another orgasm hit; I thrashed underneath him, screaming out his name, my bliss so strong that I didn't process what was happening until it was far too late.

There was a sound—a cracking noise, like the ice on a lake breaking up in the spring—then I was falling; Adrian jerked us sideways—my breath was completely knocked out of me as I hit the floor, hard. For a moment, I laid there stunned, wondering what happened as I tried to remember how to breathe; I was trying to figure out why in the hell Adrian was chuckling breathlessly behind me, too.

"We broke it."

I moaned—his quiet laughter was making aftershocks dance up and down my spine. "What?"

"The desk." He tightened his arms around me, swiping his tongue against my neck. "We broke… the desk."

I tried to turn so I could see for myself, but his arms tightened around me, holding me in place. "Don't move… wait until the dopey feeling wears off, Angel."

"I'm fine." I squirmed—gasping as his hips bucked up against me.

"Sure you are. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about—"

"Adrian—seriously. I'm not high. Do I sound it?"

He moved, pulling out of me with a groan—propping himself up on one elbow to gaze down at my face. "No but that doesn't mean—"

"The… whatever it is in your bite… it doesn't affect me. I didn't get the whole drugged up feeling—I promise."

His expression shifted; the contented look of pleasure vanished, pain flickering through his eyes. "I'm sorry… you should have stopped me. I never would have bitten you—"

"Shhh… I wanted you to. You didn't force me, Dusha. I offered it to you." I reached up, stroking my fingertips along his cheek. "How do you feel? Mentally, I mean?"

"Amazing—I can't really describe it. It's like… a fog has lifted—everything is clearer than it's been in years. Not since puberty hit, when I first started feeling… odd." His fingertips brushed along the side of my neck, his eyes locked on the marks he'd left. "I don't understand what happened—I don't remember anything after you left. How bad was I?"

"You didn't know me," I whispered, sliding my arms around his neck and pulling him down on top of me. "You looked right at me and said that you couldn't find me."

"It's like that sometimes… I black out. They call them fugue states." His entire body went rigid with tension. "You've seen me at my worst now… if you want out… I'll understand."

I chuckled, nuzzling along his jawline. "You don't get it… you're mine Dusha—and I'm yours. I figured out the riddle just in time. Remember what Yeva said—about refilling an empty glass? That's what just happened. We healed you—it's like… you're brand new."

"It felt different… I saw something—but I thought I was imagining it. That it was further proof how close I was to slipping away for good." His palm slid over the bite marks; I felt the soothing warmth of his magic caressing my skin as he healed them away.

"It was real. It was… wonderful. Like nothing I ever imagined. I could… feel you. I know that doesn't make sense—"

"You brought me back," he murmured, staring down at me with awe. "But… how?"

"It's pretty simple… see, Moroi have fangs and when they bite down—" my words were lost in a squeal as he flipped us; now I was hovering over him with my hair hanging around us—a protective cocoon, separating us from the rest of the world.

"Smart ass. I understand that part."

"There's Spirit in my blood, Dusha. Spirit I can't access because I'm not a Moroi. It will never get used up or run out—not as long as I'm alive. It's yours… every single bit of it. Whenever you wear yourself too thin… it will heal you." I smiled softly at his look of stunned amazement, tracing my finger along his lips. "There are still a lot of questions we'll need to find answers to—but for now, we know how to heal you, and for me… that's enough."

"But… I'd be using you. I don't want to do that, Angel." His voice was barely a whisper, his eyes filling with grief—as if just the thought tormented him.

"It's not like that… really." I caressed his face, my thumb sliding along his cheekbone. "When you were feeding from me… I had a vision. Well, not a vision really—that's a stretch… it was more like… a realization. You know how Yeva keeps saying Yin and Yang? I think that's it exactly—God created you to perform His miracles here on earth… but your mortal body can't handle the enormity of the power. It's why your… essence—for lack of a better word—gets used up. I think I'm the flip side of that coin—He created me to replenish what you use up performing those miracles. We're two separate halves of the same whole, maintaining balance between us. We need each other—maybe that's why I dreamed about you and why we've been so drawn to each other from the start."

"Divine intervention? That might be a stretch, Angel."

"No—Divine invention. There's a difference—we're fulfilling the purpose we were created for." I kissed him, just a soft brush of my lips against his, silencing any further questions. In time, we would find the answers—but for now, I just wanted to bask in the knowledge that when he was lost in the dark, my light would always guide him, helping him find his way back home.

We moved to the bed, cuddling together, exchanging gentle kisses and caresses as he cradled me against his chest. Long after he drifted off, I lay awake, my fingers tracing abstract patterns along his pale skin; I did not begrudge him his rest—he needed it—but for me, sleep was illusive and would not come. My mind was far too active, refusing to still; as the enormity of my revelation wore off, a thought occurred to me—that one thing kept circling round and round in my head. It was something Adrian had mentioned in passing when he'd tried to calm me down.

'sometimes… I get glimpses of things—nothing as strong as you do or your grandmother—but hints of things.'

It was a ridiculous thing to dwell on; I should have been happy at discovering how to help him—focusing on what was real. Instead, I was fretting about something that was probably nothing more than a hallucination brought about by some deep seated fear of abandonment he had because of what Roza had done—working myself up for no reason at all. I told myself I was just being foolish; there was no way what Adrian had seen was a premonition of things to come; I would never abandon him or leave him alone. Once I graduated, we would figure things out, and no matter what happened, he would never have to search for me; as long as he needed me, I would be there for him—it was as simple as that.

Still, it was hard to ignore the icy prickles that caressed my spine and filled me with unease. As if he sensed my dark thoughts even in his sleep, his arms tightened around me, lips pressing against my temple. When I finally drifted off, it was to the sound of his heart beating underneath my cheek—the rhythmic throbbing slowly drowning out the haunting memory of how broken his voice had sounded as he tried to find his Angel.

I awoke hours later to the sound of raindrops spattering against the window; it was twilight and the room was chilly, but I couldn't find it in me to care—the body beside me was more than enough to keep me warm. Snuggling closer, I cracked open my eyes to find Adrian gazing at me with a bemused smile on his face.

"You talk in your sleep."

"I do not," I murmured. I was still practically asleep, for all intents and purposes—in that dopey, hazy state where it is far, far easier to let sleep reclaim you than to fully awaken.

"You do—in Russian. It's very inconsiderate—I couldn't understand what you were saying." His voice was gentle and teasing, almost as soft as the brush of his fingers as they traveled along my cheek. "Were you dreaming about me?"

"Always." I smiled, burrowing closer to him. "You should have come into my dreams, you're always welcome there."

"We're still not sure if that's safe," he reminded me, lips brushing my forehead. "I don't want to risk you wandering off again like you did the last time."

"Fine… your loss, considering it was a very sexy dream." I slid my leg up over his, bumping my hips against him. "We were all covered in paint and—well… never mind."

He growled, rolling on top of me and pinning my hands above my head. "It's not nice to tease a man first thing in the morning, Miss Belikova."

"It is not teasing if I fully intend to show you what we were doing, Lord Ivashkov," I whispered, smiling against his lips as they pressed down on mine.

He made an appreciative sound as he pulled back, smiling down at me. I studied him, searching for some sign of what had taken place between us; the most noticeable thing was his eyes—they were clearer and brighter than I had ever seen them, almost luminous in the pale, late day sunlight that was filtering through the window. Laying there, with the warm, solid weight of his body pressing down against me, I thought about how surreal our situation seemed. Four days ago neither of us knew the other existed—he had been nothing more than a mysterious boy that haunted my dreams, filling me with longing—but now… now, I couldn't imagine waking up without him beside me.

"Penny for your thoughts... though I might be willing to up it to a quarter if they're sexy ones."

I smiled. "I was just thinking how strange this is… it's hard to believe we've only known each other a measly four days—it feels like I've known you forever."

"Mhmmm. I feel the same way." His released my hands, his fingertips trailing down my arms in a way that made me tremble.

"It's all happened so fast… is that normal?" Perhaps it was a silly question, but other than Rolan, my dating experience was virtually non-existent. I hung out with male friends of course, but it was always in a group; I'd never been a part of a couple—if that's what we were—so it was all completely new to me. I had so many questions about love and relationships, but no one I could ask; my sisters always responded with 'don't worry about it until you're older', and Mama… well, Mama was a romantic at heart, like me. We both believed in love at first sight—something Karolina and Sonya scoffed at; I had no idea how my brother felt about such a thing. The first time he met Roza, did he feel a spark ignite within him? One that grew stronger and stronger until it blazed out of control? Those were the things I wanted to know, but they were things I knew he would feel uncomfortable discussing—so I certainly couldn't ask him.

"I'm not the best judge of what's normal, Angel—I've only been seriously involved with someone one time."

"Roza." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes." He hesitated a moment before continuing. "That happened fast too—not the relationship… that took a long time to come about and even then… it was pretty one sided. But falling for her? That happened the first time I saw her."

"I see." Two simple words, but my voice betrayed the hurt his statement had aroused within me.

"I don't think you do. What I'm trying to say is… I never felt that way before… and I was sure I'd never feel that way again. I was wrong—I felt that way about you. When you turned around that night and our eyes met… I felt it."

I opened my mouth to respond, but his lips against mine silenced me; when he pulled back, a teasing smile twitched up the corners of his mouth. "Now… what were you about to say?"

I racked my brain, but all I could think about was the softness of his lips and the teasing brush of his tongue caressing mine. " I don't remember, damn it."

He laughed, looking a bit smug as he gazed down at me. "Good—that was the plan. I don't want to spoil our day with talk of her—I want to focus on being here with you."

"That was a very smooth line, Ivashkov," I teased, drawing my fingernails lightly along his skin; he moaned softly, dropping his head down to nuzzle along my neck.

"You know… you could finish your schooling here just as easily as at Saint Basil's—then you wouldn't have to go back to Russia… you could stay with me."

For a moment I indulged in the fantasy; I pictured the two of us living here on campus—meeting up for lunch and stealing kisses between my classes. I imagined us spending all our free time together without having to worry about my brother interrupting. I could see myself curled up beside him as I studied, waking up every day wrapped securely in his arms. He made it sound so easy and attainable—and I wanted it… God, I wanted it so much, but I knew it wasn't that simple.

I sighed. "I'd love to… but my mother would never agree. I don't think Yeva would either—she went to Saint Basil's too… it's sort of a family tradition."

He pulled back, looking so upset that I immediately felt the overwhelming urge to reassure him—to erase the sadness that my words had awakened in his eyes. "I'll talk to them. Maybe they will understand if I tell them I need to be with you—"

"No… it was selfish of me to suggest it. It's your last year… you'd have to leave all your friends—"

"There isn't a single person on that campus I care about, Dusha. Being with you means more than graduating with my class."

"You'd be leaving your family too. It'd be a little too far for weekend trips home," he pointed out, worrying his lower lip with the tip of a fang. "It makes more sense for me to move there—it's easier, and it's not like I've got anything tying me to Court."

"Your mother," I said softly.

"Who is in prison for God knows how long—and even if she wasn't… we aren't exactly close, Angel. Not like your family is."

I hated the thought of him not having the kind of family I did—one where love and affection were given freely, even though sometimes it smothered me. "That could change—"

"I've tried. Believe me… she'll never change. She's a cold woman—even with her only child." He stroked his index finger along the bridge of my nose, smiling. "I'm moving—it's not up for debate. So tell me what to expect."

I wrinkled my nose. "What do you mean?"

"When I come there… what will it be like?"

"Like living anyplace else, of course."

He groaned, dropping his head to my shoulder. "Don't say it like that. Come on, it's a lazy, rainy morning—the perfect atmosphere for daydreams. Didn't you ever do that as a kid? Lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling, imagining what things would be like when you were grown up? Give me a daydream—something I can hang on to."

I frowned, closing my eyes as I pondered how to respond; it wasn't that I didn't know what I wanted the future to hold—I did, though surprisingly enough, a key element had changed in the short time I'd known him. Before my trip… I would have said the only thing I really wanted was to get out of Baia; I'd been dreading graduation because it meant settling down into a life of drudgery. There had been no prospect for excitement in my future—it would be filled with an endless stream of dead end, dreary jobs like the ones my sisters held, and eventually having children. But now? A future in Baia didn't seem so bad, if Adrian would be there with me. The fact I didn't want him to feel like I was rushing him into things was an important factor too—I didn't know how freely I should speak or how much I should hold back.

"Did you fall back asleep?" He whispered.

"No—sorry. I was just gathering my thoughts." I opened my eyes, gazing up at him, wondering what he wanted to hear. "Would you want to live in the city… or in my commune?"

"I don't know…" he tilted his head, his brow wrinkling as he thought about it. "I've never really lived anywhere but Court or at an Academy—protected by the wards. What do you think?"

"Up until I met you… I would have said the city, but now… I sort of like the idea of living in Baia near my family. I always had this… desire… to travel and meet people, but since we met… I don't know… that doesn't seem as interesting or important as it did before."

"Because you've already met me—your subconscious knows that I'm the most interesting person alive," he offered, his expression completely serious. "Which would be safer? I don't want to be worrying about Strigoi attacking every time I step outside."

"That's a tough call. There are frequent attacks on the communes, but it's the settlements that are the farthest out that they seem to focus on. Baia has never been attacked in all the years we've lived there—though I have to be honest… the roads into town aren't safe to travel once the sun sets." I chewed at my lip, contemplating some of the stories Nikolai had shared with me—things his brother had disclosed about Strigoi attacks in Novosibirsk. "If we lived in Baia, you could walk around town without worry—you couldn't do that in the city… Strigoi hunt there. Though I have never understood how it is humans don't realize it when they see them—"

"I never understood it myself until I saw it firsthand—they blend in with the crowds. Lots of humans are pale so they don't think anything about it, and people usually don't look strangers in the eye, so I guess they don't notice the red."

I was shocked—not many unguarded Moroi had seen a Strigoi and lived to tell the tale. "You saw one?"

"Several of them. They attacked us in Vegas." His jaw tensed, his body going rigid as his eyes flicked over to the window. He was avoiding my gaze… but why?

"How are you alive? What—"

"You don't want to know all the gory details Vika—trust me. "I'm lucky I was with Rose—it was more interested in her than me."

It struck me then—ice cold fingers of dread brushing along my spine. "It was my brother… wasn't it?"

"Yes. I've never been more scared in my life. He only looked directly at me for a minute, but the expression on his face was something I'll never be able to forget. He wanted to kill me… not because I was a Moroi and he wanted my blood—because I was there…with her."

I shivered, thinking about what my brother had said the night of Lissa's party. "You were infringing on his territory. Not the location … his woman."

"That's it exactly. It was like staring into the eyes of a shark—cold and lifeless, without any sign of empathy." His voice was low—just the memory of the encounter seemed to leave him shaken. "Needless to say, I'd prefer to live in a place where I'm not going to wind up someone's dinner."

I tightened my arms around him, shoving aside the horror I felt at hearing about Dimitri in that form—trying to find something that would distract him from his memories. "Well… there is one danger in Baia I don't know if you can handle….it is a very uneventful place. You'd probably be bored to death within a week—there's not a lot to do there."

"If you're there I'll be fine—we can always find something to keep us occupied." His eyes returned to mine, full of relief; he'd caught my attempt and appreciated it, grasping the subject change firmly with both hands. "So it's settled—we're living in Baia. House or apartment?"

"As long as we're playing make believe… a house—and I know exactly which one."

"Let me guess, a great big palatial looking mansion?"

"Hardly—I'm not that kind of girl, Dusha," I chastised softly. "It's on the same street as Mama's house—three doors down. It's been empty forever—the owner died when I was twelve."

He pressed a kiss against the tip of my nose, smiling. "And you've had your eye on it all this time?"

"Actually… believe it or not… yes. It's kind of run down looking now since no one has been maintaining it, but I still think it's the prettiest house in Baia—it's one of the only ones with nalichnik."

"Huh?"

I laughed at his confused expression, pushing him off of me and sliding out of bed to hurry across the chilly room to grab my purse. Shivering at the chill in the room, I raced back over and climbed under the covers before I dug around in my bag, searching for the small photo book I'd brought from home. "I think I have a picture of it—I brought Dimitri copies of the photographs I took when he and Roza visited. I haven't had a chance to give it to him since we keep squabbling every time we see each other. Ah—here it is."

He propped himself up against the headboard, sliding an arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer as I flipped through the pages. "Wait—go back. Is that your house?"

I turned back to the photo in question; Mama and Yeva were standing on the front porch on either side of my brother. "Mhmmm—it's nothing fancy, but that's where I grew up."

"Big guy looks happy."

"He was—it was his first real visit home since her graduated." I flipped a few more pages, stopping at the photo I'd been searching for. Dimitri and Roza were peering in the windows of the house I'd mentioned—perhaps indulging in their own game of make believe, imagining settling down to a quiet life in Baia. "This is it—see the windows? That's nalichnik."

He studied it a moment, eyes narrowed. "It looks kind of like snowflakes, doesn't it?"

"I never thought of it that way, but yes, it does. It's wooden lace. A lot of houses in Russia have it, but not so many in Baia. Sometimes there are protective symbols carved into the design."

"It's pretty—very aesthetically pleasing." He pulled the album out of my hand, examining it closely. "How big is it? It's hard to tell with your brother in the picture—he makes everything look miniscule."

"Not very—it has three bedrooms and a bath upstairs, and the downstairs has the kitchen and living room, as well as a dining room and a small storage area. But it has a cellar too—and the former owner added a large room on the back of the house, right off of the kitchen. He liked to garden and wanted a room where he could sit and look out at his flowers—a… how do you say it here… solarium?" I glanced over at him, hoping I hadn't misspoken—more than a little self-conscious about my grasp of English. "It has huge floor to ceiling windows, but he had them coated, so they in lots of natural light but the film filters out the UV rays—he was a Moroi, so he had to watch out for that sort of thing. It would make an excellent place for an artist to work—a talent like yours should not go to waste."

He smiled, leaning his head against mine. "I probably wouldn't have much time for it—I don't know the exchange rate, but the money Tatiana left me won't last forever. I'll have to get a job—though I don't have the faintest idea what I can do."

"That would be your job—we're imagining, right? So anything is possible," I pointed out.

"Maybe I don't just want it to be imaginary, Angel." He ran his fingers over the picture, looking almost wistful. "Maybe I want it to be real—you and me living in this house, walking down the street to visit with Yeva and your mother. Knowing that I can take care of you—and them too, if they needed it."

"Well being an artist is a real job, you know. You could take commissions or—"

"That won't guarantee the bills get paid, sweetheart."

"You act as if I expect you to support me or something—I don't. I'd be working too—I have to get a job as soon as I graduate… and I've already got an offer."

"An offer to do what, exactly? Guard someone?"

"No—Abe said I could work for him from home. I'm sure he'd pay me more than enough to—"

"Ohhhh no. Not a chance." He cut me off, shaking his head emphatically. "You don't want to get mixed up in that shit, Vik—who knows what he'd expect you to do."

"He said it wouldn't be anything immoral—he asked if I was good with figures, so I think it's probably bookkeeping or something."

"Or maybe he wants you to go around and collect debts for him—break people's kneecaps if they don't have the interest figured exactly right."

I blinked several times, caught completely off guard by the suggestion; as naive as it might be, that was one scenario that hadn't occurred to me. "I don't think he'd do that… he said that it would be something Mama and Yeva approved of—and they certainly wouldn't approve of me acting like an enforcer or hired thug. Besides… he's already got people who do that, right?"

"I suppose—we never exactly discussed his business ventures." He laid the album across his lap, turning the page. The next image was one of Dimitri and Roza cuddling on the couch; her face was turned up to his, her lips curving up in a teasing smile.—I'd caught them on the verge of kissing. I glanced at him, worried the sight would upset him, but he seemed fine—he didn't even make a snide comment, he simply turned the page, flipping through the album and examining the pictures. "You're a pretty good photographer—you have an eye for it."

"I enjoy it—it is one of my few hobbies, though I mostly take pictures of landscapes and nature, not people."

He turned another page, his brow furrowing; the arm around me tightened as he frowned down at the album. "Who's that?"

I glanced at the picture, arching a brow; it was a picture Dimitri had taken of Nikolai and I sparring in the yard—Rose was looking on, studying our form intently. "Koyla? He's one of my classmates. He challenged me to pin him—I think he was trying to show off for my brother."

He muttered something under his breath—it sounded suspiciously like 'fucking male dhampirs'. I rested my head on his shoulder, trying not to smile—his entire body was stiff with tension. "He's just a friend—I've known him forever."

"Those are the most dangerous kind." He scowled at the page, looking so ferocious that I couldn't help but giggle.

"Are you jealous, moy Dusha? You shouldn't be—I never even kissed him… though he has a little crush on me." I couldn't resist needling him just a little.

"Of course he does—that's the way my luck runs. I meet a beautiful girl and she's already got a muscle bound oaf panting after her. Now I'm definitely coming to Russia—I'll make damn sure he knows there won't be anymore 'sparring' in the future." He turned the page, his scowl fading as he gazed down at the page—it was one of me holding Katya, Sonya's baby girl. I was making a funny face as she smiled and patted my cheeks. "Who's kid?"

"My sister Sonya's. She's a very good baby, she hardly ever fusses." I refrained from mentioning who her father was—or that she'd inherited his eyes.

"How many kids?"

"Sonya? Just the one—"

He chuckled, closing the album and setting it on the nightstand. "I meant in our daydream… how many kids do you see in it?"

I blushed, burying my face in his shoulder. "I never really thought about it."

"Do you want kids?" His fingers traced along my arm, raising chill bumps on my skin.

"Eventually… when I'm older."

"So… eventually… how many?"

I thought about it for a minute. "Two—a boy first… then a girl. Every little girl should have a big brother to look after her."

"I agree—I always wanted a little sister, but I guess my parents didn't feel the same way. But I was thinking more along the lines of four… two of each." He moved—suddenly I was pinned to the bed staring up at him; he hovered over me with a determined look on his face. "Now I have a goal to work towards… making those dreams come true."

I smiled—he sounded so earnest it was impossible not to. "What about you—what do you want? Your dreams are important too, Dusha."

"I only have one dream… to be happy with someone who loves me. Everything you want… it's what I want too—I just didn't realize it before." His head dropped down, lips trailing along my jaw; his hand moved down, sliding my leg up over his hip as he settled himself between my thighs.

"Some of those things might happen a whole lot sooner than we are ready for if we're not careful," I whispered—it hadn't escaped my attention that we'd forgotten to use protection again.

His lips traveled upward, warm breath tickling my ear. "It wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing—might change your brother's stance on the two of us. Instead of trying to keep us apart he'd start planning a shotgun wedding."

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to keep my expression stern—ignoring the way my stupid heart turned somersaults at the thought of having his child. "I may not be an expert on matters like this, but I definitely know that discussions about babies and shotgun weddings are not something normal people have within a week of meeting."

"So we're abnormal—who cares. Besides… time is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things."

"You realize that if we ever have kids together… they'll be dhampirs, like me," I asked, softly. "From what you've said about your parents… they probably wouldn't be too happy about that."

"I don't give a shit what they think—I happen to be extremely fond of dhampirs… especially the one that's sharing my bed. Maybe I need to prove it to you… just to ease your mind."

His mouth found my breast, tongue swiping across my nipple; I gasped, arching up against him, but I could not allow my desire to cloud my common sense. "Do you have the condom I gave you?"

He groaned—I took it as a definitive 'no'.

"You didn't bring any with you, did you?"

"No I didn't—I was trying to be noble and slow things down, remember?"

I cursed softly in Russian; my body was trying to override my brain—definitely not a good thing. "I don't suppose the student store—"

"They don't—and they don't give them out in the clinic either." I arched a questioning brow, earning a chuckled in response. "I checked yesterday while you were in class—after the incident in your cousin's cabin… I thought we'd probably end up needing them."

I closed my eyes, toying with the idea of risking it—but we'd already pushed our luck, and sooner or later, our carelessness would catch up with us. "I am trying to be strong… but it's very hard to do with you on top of me."

"Tell me about it." He rolled off me, staring up at the ceiling. "We've just got to get through today, then we'll be back at Court. We can wait—"

"Speak for yourself," I muttered darkly, cursing myself for not being prepared.

"While we're here you could always talk to Olendzki—she's a doctor… she could write you a prescription. I mean… you're not a student here and you're eighteen, so it's not like she'd need parental consent. Won't do us any good for a couple of weeks, but at least we won't have to worry about condoms after that."

"Great—so they'd kick in right in time for me to go home."

"True—but I'm trying to plan ahead. I figure I can get everything wrapped up and join you in about a month—if they'll let me stay on campus, that is."

I rolled over, studying his profile. "Do you really mean that? You want to come to Saint Basil's?"

"I want to be near you, Angel." He smiled, still gazing up at the ceiling. "Provided you want me there, of course."

"That should be a no brainer." I smiled, snuggling up next to him. "But Dusha… if you change your mind… I'll understand. Your mother could be released or—"

Doesn't matter—I'm coming. Once my mind is set on something, that's it, I don't change it—just ask Rose."

"Then I'll talk to the doctor today and get everything sorted out."

He rolled over to face me, pulling me closer. "This being responsible thing is new to me—I have to admit… it feels pretty good. Mentally, I mean. Physically… it's fucking agony. I want you so much it hurts."

"It's only for today, remember?" I teased, burying my face in his neck.

"It will feel like a week."

"A month," I countered.

"A year plus infinity." He tickled my side, trapping me in place with his leg so I could not escape.

"No tickling! That's not fair Dusha!" I giggled, trying to wiggle away—my laughter dying off at the sound of a knock on our door. The interruption tarnished my happy mood a little—I cursed, glaring up at the ceiling, contemplating murder. "Just once I would like to be able to enjoy waking up next to you and spending the morning in bed without someone banging on the damned door."

"Technically we've been awake for a while sweet cheeks." He chuckled, rolling off me—slapping me on the ass as I climbed out of bed. I reached down, grabbing the nearest article of clothing—which happened to be his t-shirt. "Probably Yeva—we slept through dinner last night. It's almost seven—bet she's here to demand we get up and take her to breakfast. I could always pretend to still be asleep—maybe then she'll go away."

"Yeah right." I tugged the shirt on, frowning; it covered everything—but barely. Glancing over to make sure he was covered up, I stormed over to the door, jerking it open, just as the banging began again. "We're up already! You don't have to—"

"They don't even start serving food until eight, Babushka Yeva." Adrian called from behind me.

The thing is… it wasn't my grandmother.

Alberta Petrov's eyes widened at the sound of his voice; she reached out, pushing the door open wider, staring at the bed with a shocked look on her face. "How in the hell did you get on campus?"

Adrian's eyes shot open at the sound of her voice. "Allie—uh… hi. Surprise?"

"Don't you Allie me! What in the hell are you doing here? Who let you through the gate?"

"You did." I crossed my arms, leaning against the door frame. We'd been caught red handed—there was no use trying to cover it. "He's Guardian Johnson—he used Spirit to disguise himself."

Her gray eyes widened even more as they flicked between us. "I knew it—I knew there was something familiar about him! God damn it Adrian—what in the hell are you thinking? Dimitri will be infuriated when he finds out this is going on!"

"He'll only know if you tell him," Adrian pointed out, stretching like a contented cat.

"Shit. Shit shit shit! Don't do this to me—please. Do not put me in the middle of all this Adrian!" She closed her eyes, rubbing her temples.

There was a low chuckle from the hallway behind her. "Well… I see I do not have to wake you. Good morning Madam Petrov—did you come to take us to breakfast?"

"You knew about this too?" Alberta turned, scowling at my grandmother.

"Knew about what? The fact they are two naughty, lazy children?" Yeva smiled at the guardian, brushing past the other woman. Sticking her head in the doorway, she shot Adrian a threatening glare. "It is time for you to get up, kotik—we have many things to do today. No more lounging about in bed—you have five minutes or I will drag you out by your ear."

"Did you need something Guardian Petrov," I asked, trying to ignore the adorable way Adrian responded to my grandmother's threat—he chuckled, blowing her a kiss. "Or were you just checking up on me?"

"This was outside my office door when I got there this morning," she held out an envelope—the one I'd scrawled her name on in the library. "I wanted to know why Johnson was gathering information on Spirit… but I suppose that's pretty obvious now that I know the truth."

"There are books missing from your library, Allie—ones that contained information on Spirit. I thought it was best to get copies of what was left before they disappeared too."

"We're not missing any books—"

"You are. Ones that Lissa and I used before she graduated. The librarian insists they're on the shelves… but I'm telling you they're gone." He stood up, carefully winding the sheet around his waist to keep himself covered as he swaggered towards us. "Someone took them—the question is… why?"

She stared at him a moment, her jaw tensing. "Maybe they want to know more about the element."

"Mhmmm. Maybe. The interesting thing is… no one touched those books for years before we found them—they were on an upper shelf, covered in dust. Now suddenly someone wants to know more… after a Spirit user gets elected Queen. Kind of makes me wonder if they're afraid of her element and want to find out exactly how powerful she might be—or how they can use the information to mold her into what they want." He brushed past her, wandering across the hall. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get my things. When Yeva took over my room she apparently didn't think I'd need clothing."

"Obviously she was right," Alberta pointed out snidely.

"I'm always right," Yeva quipped, peering up at her. "They are taking far to long—I will starve to death before they are dressed and ready. You may walk me to breakfast."

"Me?" Alberta looked startled. "I'm sorry—I can't. I need to get to work."

"In due time—I need to speak with you about your faculty. They are not properly preparing the students. We will talk as we walk, yes?" Yeva headed for the stairs, stopping on the first step when she realized the guardian had not moved. "Hurry up woman—you are slower than a tortoise! Viktoria—you will attend training today. No more hanky panky this morning—understood? Send our kotik to join me for breakfast as soon as he is dressed."

"Yes grandmother."

"Is she always like this?" Alberta whispered, her wide as they flicked from Yeva to me.

"No—" I muttered back as I moved to shut the door, "—sometimes she is much, much worse."