Dear Diary,
The Guardians strong armed me across the campus, but I certainly refused to make it easy on them; I kicked and cursed, hurling every insult I could think of at the two men holding my arms, at one point thrashing about so violently that we tumbled to the ground in a heap. Despite my struggling, it was an effort in futility; they managed to get me inside one of the buildings we had not toured, dragging me into a small, dimly lit room. I was shoved forcefully in a chair—they told me to 'keep quiet', then they left, locking the door behind them.
Immediately I sprang up, crossing the room to beat on the door—screaming for them to let me out, but if they were still outside they chose to ignore me. I raged—screaming until I was hoarse and my throat was aching; when my voice finally failed me, I turned my attention to smashing the chair against the door in an attempt to get free. It was no use—the door was solid and the chair was far too flimsy. Still, I did not give up—my eyes flicked around the room, assessing my predicament; the ceiling was too high for me to use as an escape route, and there were no windows—the only door being the one that stubbornly refused to yield.
I sank back down in the misshapen chair, scowling as a metal sliver from the twisted frame sliced open my palm—wishing that I'd been a little less thorough in trying to batter my way out. There was a clock on the far wall, but I tried not to watch it—instead, I glared at the door, waiting for the Guardians to return. I had no doubt about why I was being detained—using physical violence against a Royal Moroi is one of those things that is frowned on at every single Academy around the globe.
The problem with sitting in complete silence for an extended period is that eventually… it starts to grate on your nerves; you begin to fret over whatever it is you've done, dreaming up the worst possible scenarios for the predicament you've managed to land yourself in. I think, perhaps, that is why so many disciplinarians sequester students alone when they've done something wrong—the anticipation of the outcome is often worse than the punishment itself. As I sat there stewing, I started to wonder what they might have planned for me; had I been at Saint Basil's, I would be protected by my status as a student; I would receive detention, and perhaps some compulsory form of community service—assisting the Guardians or maintenance crew with one of the many menial tasks that they are required to perform. But at Saint Vladimir's, I was a visitor—an adult not affiliated with the school—who had attacked one of their students. The fact I had been defending another student would not matter—not when I'd struck a Royal Moroi. Shoving aside my dark, disturbing thoughts, I tried to focus on the fact that I was in the states at the request of the Moroi Queen; as her visitor, there had to be some sort of immunity that protected me—at least… I hoped so.
Another half hour passed; I began to pace, wondering exactly how long they planned to keep me locked up without access to a bathroom. Thirty minutes later I banged on the door again, calling out for a bottle of water—only to have my request ignored. As the two hour mark drew near I heard loud voices in the corridor; my lips curved up in a wry smile—Yeva had finally arrived.
I could hear the key turning in the lock—the door jerked open and a Guardian entered, grabbing my arm and tugging me towards the door.
"You have ten seconds to remove your hand from my granddaughter," Yeva said softly, "otherwise I will find the nearest telephone and get her brother Dimitri Belikov on the line. I am sure he would like to hear how you are manhandling his baby sister… he would probably insist on flying right down and dealing with your impudence in person!"
The man released my arm as if he'd been burned, his face turning red. "Sorry ma'am… but she fought like a hellcat before—almost broke Blaylock's nose. Only reason she's not in one of the holding cells is out of respect to Dimitri."
"None of that is my concern—I will leave it up to Guardian Petrov to deal with your incompetence," Yeva snapped. "Come Viktoria—they are waiting for us in the administration building." She reached over, taking my arm—making a big show of leaning against me, as if she were far too feeble to make it on her own. "I did not come to this accursed place to be marched all over God's creation like a Novice in training."
"I can call for a golf cart if it's too far for you, Ma'am—"
"I think not—I will not have rumors spread that Yeva Belikova was too feeble to walk across Saint Vladimir's campus," she snapped, scowling at him. "You are impudent to an old woman—your mother would be ashamed."
The Guardian frowned. "I didn't mean it disrespectfully."
Yeva made a dismissive sound, turning her attention to me. "Why is your eye swollen?"
"He punched me." I muttered, scowling.
"You punched me first—"
"As well she should have! Manhandling a young lady is a disgrace!" She shook her cane at him—he sidestepped, eyeing her warily.
I fell silent as we approached the exit, my gaze darting between the Guardians on either side of us—monitoring how much of a berth they gave us to better ascertain how much privacy Yeva and I had. Their hearing was as enhanced as mine—I didn't want them overhearing what I had to say. Once we were outside, they shifted formation—one moving in front of us while his partner fell back to the rear.
"I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me," I murmured, keeping my voice low, just in case they'd been instructed to eavesdrop on anything we might say.
"It took a while to find out what happened—even longer to determine where you were being detained," she said quietly before raising her voice, glaring at the man in front of us. "Guardian Petrov is very upset that no one saw fit to inform her of the situation."
He glanced over his shoulder at us—a jaw in his muscle twitched, betraying his unease. "We followed standard protocol."
"I see—I take it you have had quite a few visiting female Novices that were forced to protect themselves from Moroi boys here in the past?" Yeva asked, arching a brow.
"No—of course not!"
"Then how, pray tell, is there a 'standard protocol' for the situation, young man?"
Cheeks flaring, he snapped his head back around, ignoring her question.
"How much trouble am I in?" I whispered, ducking my head down closer to Yeva's ear. "Are they going to throw me in jail?"
"Pfttt—none of that! Remember who you are, Viktoria Aleksandra—remember the blood that flows through your veins. The strength of the Motherland is behind you—you do not tremble before these people, and you do not acknowledge their authority over your fate."
Her sharp words dissolved the fear inside of me—she was right, my question was that of an ignorant child, terrified of punishment. The administrators of Saint Vladimir's had no authority to hold me—no right to detain me for protecting myself and an innocent girl from harm. Glancing down at my grandmother, I attempted to mimic her regal bearing—emulating the silent strength and authority that she radiated. As I stood up straighter, her grip on my arm tightened—a silent show of approval for my reaction; the gesture drew my attention to her hand—I suddenly remembered how it had been trembling the last time I'd seen her.
Immediately, my worry sprang up again—only this time it wasn't for myself, it was for Adrian. How much had healing her cost him? "Where is Adrian? Is he—"
"Do not fret about our sly, wily cat, granddaughter—he is attending to things that need to be done," she murmured. "Though he did throw quite a fit when you disappeared—"
"They just grabbed me," I muttered, scowling. "Drug me across campus like I was some kind of criminal—"
"You are a criminal—you attacked a Royal Moroi," the Guardian behind us said harshly.
"A Royal who was attempting to compel a dhampir girl to slit her wrists," I shot back. "Would you have just stood by and watched her bleed out without interceding because he has a worthless title at the front of his name?"
He grunted in response; I scowled as his partner veered off the path, leading us towards a small, secluded side door. We traversed the long, empty corridor in silence; when it eventually merged into a larger hallway that contained a set of glass doors, I realized we'd come in through some sort of private back entrance.
I couldn't stop myself from glancing around curiously as we entered the plush waiting area; there was a pretty red haired Moroi manning the reception desk—she looked up, her eyes flicking from the Guardians to me as she spoke.
"You can go right in—they're waiting."
A hand grabbed my elbow, attempting to steer me down the hallway to the left of the woman's desk; I jerked free, arching a disdainful brow as the Guardian flinched back. "Don't touch me again unless you want a second black eye."
"You may look like your brother, but you sure as hell don't act like him," he muttered, scowling as I stalked down the hall.
"You might be surprised—my brother can be very abrupt when need be," I shot back—he moved past me to open the large door at the end of the hallway; Alberta Petrov's outraged voice carried out from the dim interior of the room.
"You had no right to have her detained—"
"I had every right! She attacked a Royal Moroi! From the moment that girl set foot on this campus she's done nothing but cause trouble! Brawling with the staff, disrupting classes… convincing you to traipse off on some wild goose chase today—"
"A wild goose chase that located the body of a missing Mori student," I said coldly, glaring at the woman behind the desk. " A body that never would have been found if it were not for me. I think it is a safe assumption that her parents will be very glad I visited this campus—now they can lay their child to rest properly."
"Silence!" She glared right back at me, pointing to a pair of chairs that sat facing her desk. "I am the person in charge here—not you, Novice Belikova. I have no idea why I ever agreed to allow this visit—"
"I'm sure the promise of a sizeable donation from Abe Mazur had something to do with it," I snapped, leading Yeva to the closest chair. I sank down in the one beside it, staring at the Academy's headmistress, trying to control my temper.
"Stop interrupting me—I don't know how they handle things at Saint Basil's, but at this Academy we do not tolerate impudence!"
"No—you just sit by and allow the Moroi boys to use compulsion on dhampir girls—tell me, how many Novices have you shipped off in secret to protect Saint Vladimir's sterling reputation from being tarnished, Madam?"
"I said be quiet!" She glared at me, a muscle in her cheek twitching. "Clearly you don't understand how serious this situation is, Miss Belikova—"
"No— you do not understand—I am not a student on your campus, or even a resident of this country. I am a citizen of the Russian Federation, and I do not answer to you, Madam! You have no authority over me—the only person on this continent who does is Vasilisa Dragomir as the sovereign of the Moroi!" I snapped, leaning forward in my chair.
It took every ounce of control I could muster not to shout it. Petrov seemed to sense that I was dancing on the razor's edge—perhaps from dealing with Roza's hot headed temper for so many years; she moved to stand beside my chair, dropping her hand to my shoulder. I glanced up at her—she gave me a pointed look, tightening her grip.
"Your status as a foreigner doesn't excuse you from attacking a Royal—"
"Who was breaking Moroi law by using compulsion on a fellow student! He tried to use it on me—to make me slit my own throat!"
"Preposterous—I have statements here from twelve students who witnessed the altercation. They all say the same thing—Lord Voda was minding his own business eating lunch when you attacked him without provocation." She brushed her fingertips along the folder sitting in front of her, as if it was all the evidence she would need to lock me up and throw away the key.
"Well he certainly wouldn't announce that he was going to use compulsion to make Novice Carslile perform a striptease before he did it, now would he?" I shot back sarcastically, leaning back in my chair. "I think you are overlooking the obvious—I do not know this boy. What reason would I have for confronting him if he had just been sitting there eating?"
"At least you admit to using physical violence—"
"You're damned right I do! I protected that girl from—"
"One of the statements is from Novice Carslile, Miss Belikova—her version of what took place matches the others. She said…" clearing her throat, she opened the folder—dramatically adjusting the spectacles that were perched on the tip of her beaky nose " Ah… here it is… she said, and I quote, 'she just went crazy. One minute she was talking to me about training, then the next she was charging across the quad. I didn't know what to do—it's like she was possessed…'." Giving me a smug look, she closed the folder, steepling her fingers atop it. "That sounds rather cut and dried to me—an unprovoked attack."
"She is lying. I don't know why… maybe he compelled her to cover for him."
"Come now Miss Belikova. One student… maybe, but compelling twelve? There's no way—"
"Oh yes there is—he's a Spirit user." I said.
"No—his element to call is Water. As a matter of fact, he showed almost no aptitude for any of the other elements—and he scored extremely low when we tested his compulsion abilities. I checked his file before you arrived."
"I believe Andre Dragomir's file said he was a fire user, and it was wrong. He may be passing as a Water user, but I am telling you his element is Spirit, and if you do not stop him, he will end up having Novice Carslile kill herself as a part of some sick game."
"That is slander, young lady. Daniel Voda is a well-adjusted student who is extremely popular with his peers. Why would he—"
"Because he happens to be a borderline sociopath… one with high level narcissistic tendencies, Ellen." The calm, matter of fact voice came from behind me—I turned my head, glancing at the Moroi woman who'd joined us. She smiled as her gaze met mine, stepping forward and extending her hand. "Hello… I'm Deirdre Szendrey, the counselor here."
"Viktoria Belikova… this is my grandmother, Yeva Belikova."
The headmistress watched her shake hands with my grandmother, not bothering to hide her skepticism. "That's your professional opinion? After just one session?"
"I didn't even need a full session—it only took about ten minutes to get him to drop his guard. Sociopaths can't resist flattery—if enough is used and you intermingle leading questions with it, they usually start to brag… which is exactly what Lord Voda did." Deirdre nodded her head in my direction. "Miss Belikova is absolutely right—eventually, Daniel would have would have taken the final step and convinced Stacey Carslile to end her own life. Whether or not he would have actually brought her back remains to be seen, thought I highly doubt it. I suspect it would be his way of solving a rather serious problem, since Stacey happens to be pregnant."
"What did you just say?" The expression of shock on the headmistress' face was almost comical.
"Her story has changed quite a bit since Lord Ivashkov offered his assistance and compelled her to… how did he put it… 'tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the ever loving truth'."
"Lord Ivash—Adrian Ivashkov is here? On campus?"
"Yes—and we owe him a thank you, Ellen. His abilities are quite amazing—before he instructed her to tell the truth, he stared at her for a few minutes, then told her that she was in control of her own mind… that she was completely free to tell us exactly what was going on. It was like a dam burst—Daniel apparently put mental blocks in place that prohibited her from speaking about what he'd been doing to her."
"And that is?" Alberta asked, releasing her grip on my arm.
Deirdre leaned against the corner of the headmistresses massive desk, frowning. "He's been using compulsion to force her to be intimate with him for quite some time; additionally, he's been feeding off her—biting her in areas that couldn't be seen. This morning she told him she suspected she was pregnant—he tried to wipe her mind… and… well… you know the rest."
"I highly doubt it," I snapped, ignoring the way Petrov grabbed my shoulder again—squeezing it as if warning me to hold my tongue. "I for one would be interested to know how many other underage girls on this campus he has raped."
"Miss Belikova—right now, all we have is the word of one student against another. For all we know their liaison could have been consensual and Novice Carslile is simply concocting this story in hopes of covering up her wanton behavior—"
"She was compelled to be completely truthful, Ellen—you and I both know that Moroi compulsion is almost impossible to break, and a Spirit users is even stronger. We're lucky Lord Ivashkov is more experienced than Daniel, otherwise we might never have learned the truth. For him to be able to do it so quickly and effectively… he must be extremely powerful—we need to find a way of properly gauging Spirits levels, the way we do the other elements." The Moroi woman perched herself on the edge of the desk—seeming completely oblivious to the dark look Kirova shot her. "The likelihood of Stacey being able to override Ivashkov's compulsion to make up a story like this is slim to none… and Izolda confirms that the girl is pregnant. When Daniel came to, she caught him trying to sneak into the room where Carslile was resting—I think he planned to finish her off before we could learn the truth."
"I trust this means my granddaughter is cleared from those… what was it you said… slanderous accusations?" Yeva asked softly, speaking for the first time since we'd entered the office. I tensed—she was an expert at masking her emotions, but I recognized the underlying tone of anger in her seemingly innocent question.
Kirova compressed her lips into a thin line and shook her head, tapping her fingers on the folder again; the urge to grab it out of her hand and rip it to shreds was almost too strong to ignore. "I'm afraid not—as I said, right now it's just the word of one student. Don't forget, eleven other witnesses support Lord Voda's statement."
"They recanted," Deidre said softly.
"Wha—all eleven of them?" The headmistress looked stunned.
"Yes—this isn't a one-time thing, Ellen. He's been using Spirit on his classmates for month—after Lord Ivashkov broke the compulsion Daniel had placed on them, two of the Moroi girls broke down… they have stories similar to Carslile's. We can just be thankful neither of them wound up pregnant."
"Yet." Yeva shook her head, frowning. "Has it not occurred to you that there are probably more? My granddaughter is right—you have no way of knowing if there are more girls he has abused like this. He has obviously been using this Academy as his own personal bordello right underneath your noses."
The headmistress bristled. "I can assure you—"
"Oh, I am sure you can—" Yeva snorted disdainfully "—tell me, what will happen to Novice Carslile now?"
"That's really none of your business—"
"I think it is, since the young man in question tried to use the same magic on my granddaughter—a foreign national who is visiting this campus. The fact you detained Viktoria for protecting herself when he tried to use Moroi magic to molest her makes it my business. It is enough to make me wonder if you were trying to cover the whole thing up—it is almost as if you already had some inkling of what this Royal was doing, Madam."
Kirova stared at her for a moment, then sighed. "Novice Carslile will be sent somewhere more suitable for an expectant mother—"
"Are you kidding me?" I sputtered, incredulous at the woman's absolute gall. "She is not at fault here—you can't send her away! She is the victim! She deserves to graduate with her class, not to be punished or sent away like she's guilty of—"
"If she's pregnant she can't continue training, and she can hardly take the trials in her condition. We have to think about what's best for her and the child." Kirova shot back. "Not to mention I cannot have a pregnant teenager on this campus!"
"Ellen, surely there's a better alternative," Deirdre said, sliding off the corner of the desk and smoothing her skirt down; her voice was low and soothing, trying to calm the tension that filled the room. "She's one of the best in her class—"
"Deirdre is right," Alberta nodded. "And she's interested in becoming an instructor as well—we can't throw that away."
"Oh sure she can—from what I remember hearing, she was prepared to ship Rose off to Timbuktu when Belikov found them. Isn't that right, Ellen?"
Adrian's deep voice jerked my head around—he was leaning against the door frame, smirking. The red haired Moroi receptionist stood beside him, ringing her hands together and looking frazzled. "I'm sorry, Headmistress… I told him you couldn't be disturbed but he just barged right past me—"
"I told you… I'm above the rules. Just ask Ellen—"
"That's Headmistress Kirova to you," she said sharply. "What I'd like to know is exactly what you're doing here—"
"He's working on a project for the Queen," Alberta cut in smoothly. "As you know, when she was a student here, they found several books referencing their element—he's compiling a dossier of sorts to present to the Council. Mr. Mazur mentioned it when he called about Novice Belikova visiting—he asked if I could ship the books to court. I told him they couldn't leave the campus and suggested Lord Ivashkov tag along with the Belikovas so he could make copies of what he needed."
"Without getting my approval?"
"As the Lead Guardian on this campus, it is within my rights to authorize a visit from an emissary of the Queen—I am the one responsible for their safety while on campus." Alberta's jaw tensed—obviously she wasn't happy with the headmistress' attitude. "If you would like to discuss it at a later time, we can—but right now we're getting sidetracked from the situation with Novice Carslile. There has to be something we can do—"
Kirova threw up her hands in an overly dramatic way. "Then by all means tell me what it is, Alberta—provided it solves the problem without causing an even bigger smear on this Academy! I've dedicated my life to this institution, keeping it scandal free until the Dashkov incident! I refuse to sit by and watch it be drug through the mud over something like this—" The buzz of the intercom cut her tirade short; she transferred her glare from Petrov to the telephone sitting on her desk. "I told you no calls!"
"Yes ma'am, but—"
"There is no 'but'—I said no calls!"
"It's the Queen, Ma'am! She's insisting on being conferenced in on the speaker!"
The old woman went a shade paler; closing her eyes, she pinched the bridge of her nose, then reached over, punching the flashing button on her phone. "I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting, your Majesty—"
"This is hardly the time for pleasantries, Headmistress Kirova, considering that I was just woken from a sound sleep by rather distressing news." Lissa's voice was more formal than I'd ever heard it—laced with a cutting sharpness that clearly expressed her displeasure. "I understand you have a situation there involving a Spirit user abusing their element—is that correct?"
Movement in my peripheral vision caught my eye, pulling my attention away from the headmistress; Adrian moved further into the room—he leaned on the back of Yeva's chair, looking thoroughly amused at the unexpected turn the meeting had taken. As our gazes met, I arched a brow quizzically—he shot me an innocent smile, making a show of studying his fingernails.
"That is debatable—we've only just become aware there might be a problem. I can assure you we're investigating the claim and—"
"The 'investigating' will take place here, at Court. I've dispatched a team of Guardians to collect both students—they will be there in a few hours. People are already uneasy about Spirit—we can't have incidents like this being swept under the rug."
"It hasn't been established for certain that Lord Voda did anything wrong, your Majesty—for all we know the information Lord Ivashkov obtained from the girl is flawed." Kirova's eyes darted over to Adrian, her frown deepening.
"Lord Ivash—Adrian is there?"
I winced—not at the astonishment in Lissa's voice, rather at the fact that now, Dimitri and Roza would learn he'd been at Saint Vladimir's while I was there. Yeva reached over, taking my hand, squeezing it tightly—silently reminding me I had her support.
"He is—I was under the impression he was working on a project for you… Guardian Petrov said something about the research into Spirit the two of you did when you were a student here?"
The excuse Alberta had provided for his sudden appearance had sounded plausible, but now it was about to be exposed for what it was; I shifted restlessly in my seat, sending up a silent prayer that things wouldn't get too messy—the last thing I wanted was for Petrov to get herself into hot water for helping us.
"Oh… of course. It must have slipped my mind—I'm sure you realize I do have more pressing things to deal with." Her tone was almost defensive, as if Kirova had questioned her competence. "Regardless, I was told that the Voda boy also attempted to use compulsion on Viktoria Belikova—are you saying that information is incorrect?"
The Moroi woman's expression was less than friendly as her eyes moved over to me; her gaze was heavy, and cold—as if she lay the blame for everything that was happening solely at my feet. "I cannot say for certain—she claims he did."
"Claims… I certainly hope you aren't implying that she is lying, Headmistress…"
"No your Majesty, but it would be negligent to overlook the fact that Spirit's compulsion is reported to be irresistible—if in fact, Lord Voda used it on her… how did she manage to escape his thrall?"
"Viktoria? It's a valid question." Lissa's voice softened, sounding almost apologetic.
I stared at the black box attached to the telephone, frowning—it hadn't occurred to me that my freakish gift might be exposed. "I… uh…"
"The silver necklace around her neck is charmed," Yeva said sharply. "I had worries about the young Moroi men at Court taking advantage of my granddaughter—one tried in the past back home, and came close to succeeding. I asked a Spirit user in Baia to give me something that would make her immune to compulsion in any form—the same woman who sent you the charmed the necklace we gave you upon our arrival."
"Preposterous," Kirova scoffed. "There is no way to render a person—"
"Actually… there is. I remember reading something about it in one of the books there at the Academy… of course we weren't sure if it was true… not until now. It's a perfect example of the point I'm trying to make—Spirit is capable of so much more than anyone realizes… that's exactly why we have to make an example out of what this boy has done. We have to show everyone that no one is above the law—that Spirit users who abuse their gift will be held accountable for their actions."
"We're not even sure if he is a Spirit user—"
Lissa cut her off impatiently. "Is Adrian attending this meeting?"
"Right here cousin," Adrian said, "hanging on your every word."
"Have you seen him? Checked his Aura?"
"I have—he's one of us… but I have to say… his Aura is pretty disturbing," Adrian shifted, moving around to the side of Yeva's chair—perching on the arm. "He's unstable, Lissa—and by that I mean he's a candidate for becoming a resident of whatever nut ward they locked Avery in."
Lissa's sigh echoed across the speaker. "Having a Spirit user slip under the radar when the students were retested is troublesome, Headmistress—the fact he's mentally disturbed creates an even bigger problem. Obviously we need to look into alternative means to insure the Voda boy isn't the only one you missed."
"We specifically followed the new guidelines—"
"Then perhaps you need a Spirit user on campus to test all the students again. I'll speak with Sonya Karp in the morning and see if she would be willing to spend a few weeks at Saint Vladimir's."
"In light if the circumstances in which she left… I'm not certain that would be wise—"
"I don't recall asking your opinion on the matter." Lissa's voice was like ice—Kirova visibly flinched at the sharpness in her tone. "Out of all of us, Sonya happens to be the most qualified to handle the task. She has experience working with students, and she's excellent at reading Auras—if there are any other Spirit users hiding amongst the student body, their Auras will stand out like a beacon, giving them away."
"I meant no disrespect," the old woman back peddled quickly. "Of course we'll handle it in whatever manner you want—"
"What I want is to go back to sleep… but first I believe you owe Viktoria an apology for holding her against her will."
Kirova pursed her lips, shooting me a dark look. "She attacked a Royal—"
"Who was breaking Moroi law. The Guardians are our peacekeepers, Headmistress—I realize in the past they have been punished for this sort of thing… however, during my reign, they will not be penalized for doing their job and upholding our laws."
"Yes, your Majesty."
There was a long, drawn out silence—finally, Lissa sighed again. "I meant for you to apologize now, Headmistress Kirova."
Two spots of color appeared on the Moroi's pale cheeks—so faint they wouldn't have been visible if not for her pale skin. "Please accept my apology—personally, and on behalf of the Academy for… our mistake."
I stared at her for a moment—my lips curving up as I realized she'd given me the perfect opportunity to avert another problem. "It is forgiven… provided Novice Carslile is not sent away for being impregnated by her Royal rapist."
Kirova tensed—if looks could kill, I would have dropped dead on the spot. For a moment, no one spoke—then the sound of Lissa clearing her throat echoed through the room. "Viktoria… did someone imply that the young lady would be sent away?"
I arched a brow, returning the Moroi woman's glare with one of my own. "Yes Queen Vasilisa—the Headmistress said she could not allow a pregnant teenager to remain on campus… that she would be sent somewhere more suitable for a girl in her condition."
Kirova looked like she wanted to choke the life out of me. "I was thinking of what was best for the girl and her unborn child—"
I'm sure you were… the same way you were thinking of what was best for Rose when you tried to send her away and separate us," Lissa's anger was evident. "Novice Carslile will continue her training here at Court, under medical supervision at the Voda family's expense. Until my transport arrives to retrieve them, Lord Daniel Voda is to be kept locked up—and I don't want to hear any nonsense about confining him to his dorm room. We don't reward rapists with unneeded luxury—the cell you used for Victor will do nicely. Am I understood?"
"Of course—" Kirova's jaw tensed as the sound of Lissa slamming down the phone echoed through the room. Scowling and shaking her head, her furious gaze moved from the phone to Alberta Petrov. "I told you this would happen if you didn't get Hathaway in line. Obviously I was right—Rose has been a horrible influence on her. Vasilisa used to be a polite, conscientious girl—now she's rude and abrupt, just like her Guardian!"
We all stared at her for a moment—too shocked by her outburst to speak; the silence that filled the room in the wake of her angry words was heavy and uncomfortable, making me shift restlessly in my chair. Her eyes narrowed, flicking between us—I truly think she did not comprehend the depth of what she'd done. "Is there a problem?"
"Well now… that all depends," Adrian drawled, standing up and patting his pockets—pulling out his pack of cloves, "on whether or not you consider high treason to be problematic."
She stared at him. "What?"
"Come on Kirova—I know you took Ancient Moroi Law in school." He lit a cigarette, smirking.
"There is no smoking on this campus—"
"To speak out against the Moroi's anointed sovereign in front of a member of the peerage or in a gathering of two or more people is considered treason and shall be justly punished—I'd say you've got more pressing concerns than where I smoke, Headmistress."
Her mouth dropped open in surprise. "I did nothing of the sort!"
"You defamed the Queen's character in front of a Royal," He smirked. "Ironic, isn't it? We're here because you accused Viktoria of a crime… and now the shoe is on the proverbial other foot."
"I certainly didn't mean anything treasonous—"
"It says nothing about intent in the law," he pointed out—obviously enjoying making her squirm. "As a loyal subject, it is technically my duty to report the offense."
"That law hasn't been enforced in centuries!"
"Rose Hathaway might disagree with you—I'm sure you're aware part of the evidence used against her in her trial was the fact she verbally berated my Aunt in front of an assembled audience."
"Lord Ivashkov… I already apologized to Miss Belikova. If you're trying to prove something—"
"This has absolutely nothing to do with her—it's about setting things right." He said, his eyes flicking over to me. "
"Then get to the point—what is it you want?"
"Vika?" He arched a brow—gesturing towards the desk; I stared at him a moment, wondering what he was getting at—then it hit me. He was giving me a chance to air my grievances—and I wasn't about to let it slip away.
"What we want," I said, imitating Lissa's haughty tone, "is to see all the Guardians who fell protecting this Academy properly honored. You put up statues of your wealthy Moroi patrons, but can't be bothered with even a plaque for the dhampirs who shed their blood to keep your worthless Moroi ass safe!"
"Viktoria Aleksandra!" Yeva hissed. "Language!"
"Language be damned to hell a thousand times over!" I snapped. "Where is the memorial honoring my brother's sacrifice? Or your nephew Savva's, Grandmother? Where is the one for Emil's cousin, and the rest of the Guardians who died in that horrible cave?"
"We don't have money in the budget—"
"You have money in the budget for luxury suites for the Moroi—money to keep the grounds of this Academy in pristine shape!" I was so angry I was shaking—my chest heaved as I struggled to breathe. "You have money for the things you deem 'important'… for everything but what matters the most—honoring the men and women who spend their lives in servitude. I cannot wait to get back to Saint Basil's and spread word of how things are done at the Academies in the States! Moroi students raping their peers… dhampir guests being detained and treated like criminals for doing their duty… and not a single fucking monument to the warriors that fell during the Battle of Saint Vladimir's!"
"Enough!" Yeva slammed her hand down on the arm of my chair, cutting me off just as my rant was picking up steam. "These are things we will bring to Vasilisa's attention… she is the one who will get things done—not some petty bureaucrat."
"How dare you—"
"Do not start with me woman!" Yeva snapped, her dark eyes flashing with anger. "I am just as upset as my granddaughter, but I know when to speak and when to still my tongue. I would suggest you not push me a single inch farther, or I will show you what happens when someone insults the Moroi Queen in the presence of a member of the old Guard!"
"I think we all just need to take a breath and calm down," Deidre said, "this has been a very stressful day for all of us."
I glanced over at her—she'd been so quiet I'd forgotten she was in the room. "More stressful for some of us than others."
"You're right." She smiled at me, not offended by the petulance that laced my words. "Now might be a good time to adjourn—I was hoping you wouldn't mind stopping off to see Novice Carslile before your flight… she's stopped responding to everyone. It's a coping mechanism—she's retreated into herself in an attempt to escape reality."
I opened my mouth, but before I could respond, the headmistress answered for me—her eyes locking with mine. "Absolutely not—she's going straight to the airstrip to await boarding. Is that clear, Novice Belikova?"
If she thought she could intimidate me, she was very, very mistaken.
"No—it is not." I stood up, towering over her. "If you have a problem with me comforting an underage dhampir girl that was raped on your watch, I suggest you take it up with Vasilisa Dragomir—I'm sure she'd love being disturbed again at this hour."
"Right now our primary focus needs to be on Stacey Carslile," Deidre said more forcefully, shooting Kirova a pointed look. "Miss Belikova is closer to her age, and she tried to help her—that might make Stacey more receptive to talking to her."
"Fine." The headmistress frowned, waving her hand towards the door. "If you'll all excuse me, I have arrangements to make—I trust you can see yourselves out."
Yeva glared at the woman—visibly bristling at being dismissed. "If you want respect, you must first give it Madam… that is a lesson I think you need to learn."
"I don't expect the students to respect me, Ms. Belikova— I expect them to respect my position as Headmistress of this Academy." Kirova scowled, watching Adrian helped Yeva up from her chair. "When young people don't respect authority figures, it leads to anarchy and chaos. They need a firm, unyielding hand to guide them."
"I didn't fall for that sort of claptrap propaganda when Stalin tried shoving it down the throat of the people in my homeland—I am hardly going to suddenly accept it as the gospel when it comes from the likes of you," Yeva snapped. "He tried to make us all conform to a hive like mentality the same way you do with the students here—believing there is only black and white, ignoring all the colors in between. Young people have a choice—they have other options besides just going into service. How many dhampir students have you encouraged to further their education? To become doctors, or to study law and politics? I'll wager the answer is none."
"Dhampirs sole purpose on this earth is to serve and protect the Moroi—"
"No—we are not slaves. We are not your property—we are living, breathing, thinking creatures. We have the same rights the Moroi do—to live happy, fulfilling lives… to find love and start families. You raise these students to be automatons—meat shields who sacrifice everything, gaining nothing in return."
"Without us, your people would cease to exist! It is in your best interest—"
"Perhaps death is preferable to some when compared with a life spent in slavery." Yeva said, her eyes narrowing. Taking Adrian's arm, she led him to the door; I followed a few steps behind—I could practically feel the Moroi woman's glare burning a hole in the back of my head. "Times are changing, Headmistress Kirova… someday soon, you will find that dhampirs do not need the Moroi nearly as much as everyone thinks."
The sharp stab of pain that lanced my brain as she spoke made me grimace; they were seemingly innocent words, but ones that were weighed down by something no one else could sense. I rubbed my temples as we followed the Moroi counselor through the building to her office.
"After Daniel tried to sneak into her room, Izolda and I thought Stacey would be more at ease in one of the quiet rooms near my office," she said, glancing back at us. "I'm afraid I wasn't exaggerating… once Lord Ivashkov finished questioning her, she refused to say another word… she's self-soothing the way small children often do—rocking back and forth… humming."
"What is this… quiet room? Surely secluding her will only serve to make her think she has done something wrong—"
"The Guidance center hasn't been fully staffed for several years—I converted several of the empty offices into … well… meditation rooms, of sorts. The Headmistress didn't approve, but since I offered to pay for the changes myself, out of pocket, she could hardly refuse." The Moroi woman stopped walking, turning to face us. "They're just calm, peaceful places that students can use if they're feeling overwhelmed, or depressed. Queen Vasilisa was actually my inspiration for creating them—she struggled with depression when she was here. Given what we've learned about the adverse effects of Spirit, I thought it would be proactive to have somewhere private available for Spirit users to escape to should any more pop up—one of Vasilisa's main concerns was hiding what she was going through."
"That's… actually a really great idea—sometimes when I'm feeling… off… my surroundings seem to make it more difficult to calm down," Adrian offered. "I know it sounds weird, but bold colors tend to make it harder to fight off the instability."
Deidre nodded. "They tend to overstimulate the mind—that's the reason most mental health facilities go with drab, neutral colors like muted greens and beiges. It helps keep the patients calm and centered." She started walking again—we turned down another hall, passing through a narrow door with the word 'Guidance Center' etched on the glass. "Ms. Belikova and Lord Ivashkov… if you'll wait here, please—we don't want to overwhelm Stacey with too many visitors at once."
I helped Yeva situate herself on one of the low, comfortable looking couches—Adrian plopped down beside her, immediately propping his feet up on the table. "I don't suppose I can smoke in here?"
"I'm afraid not—but don't worry, we shouldn't be too long. There's a small courtyard through that door if you feel like you can't wait—just please dispose of your cigarette when you're done."
I followed her as she moved past the empty reception desk, down a short corridor lined with doors—at the far end, beside the last door, a Guardian leaned against the wall, looking bored. Deidre called out a greeting as we approached. "Any problems?"
"No—it's been quiet. Do you need me to stick around, or…?"
"You can go, thank you Guardian Masters." Deirdre waited until he'd moved past us, then reached over, laying her hand on my arm. "I'll wait out here—please… try not to upset her. The Voda boy completely wiped the memory of being pregnant out of her mind… remembering it was quite a shock for her."
"Of course—thank you Madam."
She knocked softly on the door, then pushed it open. "Stacey? You have a visitor."
I brushed past her, glancing around with interest as I stepped into the room; it wasn't nearly as well lit as the hallway—the overhead lighting fixtures had been removed, replacing the customary banks of bright florescent bulbs replaced with a single recessed unit that emitted a soft, warm glow. Most of the light in the room came from a small lamp that was sitting on the small table situated between two large, overstuffed chairs—Novice Carslile was curled up in one of them with her arms wrapped around her legs, hiding her face in the hollow created by her knees.
I didn't speak right away—instead I continued examining the room itself; the walls had been painted a soothing shade that was neither blue nor gray, but somewhere in between—a color that brought to mind the sky right before a thunderstorm, when the clouds were full of rain. The soft, ambient sound of trickling water added to the serene atmosphere— it came from a small fountain in the shape of rocky waterfall that was situated on a long credenza that sat against the wall on the far side of the room. I was on the verge of walking over to examine it more closely when Carslile's teary voice stopped me in my tracks.
"I'm sorry I lied…"
The mumbled words pulled my attention away from the rooms peaceful décor; I moved over to the empty chair, sinking down in its comfortable cushions. "It's not your fault—he made you do it."
"I'm still sorry… you didn't deserve it."
"Well… neither did you," I pointed out gently. When she didn't respond, I sighed. "I came to say goodbye… we'll be leaving in just a little while—"
"It's my fault isn't it?" She cut me off, lifting her face to look at me; her eyes were red and puffy—her cheeks stained with tears. "They're making you leave because you tried to stop him."
"Of course not—we only intended to stay a couple of days. We have a limited amount of time to visit my brother at Court before we have to head home. I have to get back to school… I'm already missing the first part of my Field Service as it is."
Her brow furrowed. "We don't start ours until—"
"At Saint Basil's ours is much longer. The program there is much more intense than it is here. We don't even get time off on weekends—if our Moroi choses to go into the city or go home for a visit, we have to accompany them." I grimaced. "Believe me, I'm not looking forward to it—I'd much rather spend a long weekend at home in Baia then in some strangers house."
She studied me for a moment, worrying the corner of her lip with her teeth. "Can I ask you something? Without it… you know… offending you?"
"Of course." I grabbed a tissue out of the dispenser on the table between us, holding it out to her. "As long as you wipe your face and blow your nose first."
As she leaned over to take it from my outstretched hand, her eyes met mine; they were fill of fear and uncertainty—there was no trace of the happiness that had been there when I'd met her in Alto's classroom. "Do you know if it's really as bad as everyone says in the communes? Will they force me to… uh… be with strange men?"
I sighed, shaking my head. "It's not like that at all, Stacey, believe me. I think they spread those rumors because they are afraid if the truth gets out, more dhampirs will decide they'd rather live normal lives than going into service. I live in a commune… it's just like any small village. My mother is a midwife… my sister works in a pharmacy—they're not blood whores."
"But—"
"But nothing. I won't lie to you… there are some women who chose to sell themselves to the Moroi, but no one forces them to do it. For the most part, the dhampir women in Baia just… support each other, you know? They help each other out with babysitting or bringing by to help out when money is tight. It's sort of like we're all one big extended family… watching out for each other and helping those who need it. And anyway… you don't have to worry about it—you're not going to a commune."
"I'll have to—Headmistress Kirova won't let me stay here… and I haven't got anywhere else to go."
"You do—the Queen has ordered Kirova to send you to Court, so you can receive medical care and complete your training after the baby is born. If you decide to keep it, I mean."
She stared at me, not blinking. "They'll make me have it—"
"They won't… the choice is yours." I said firmly.
"Everyone says our numbers are declining though…"
"That doesn't matter—you're a girl, not a brood mare," I snapped—realizing a moment too late how harsh I sounded. I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the anger her comment roused. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lash out at you… I just feel very strongly about this. If you aren't ready to become a mother… if you don't feel like you can go through with it… then they can't force you to, Stacey."
"I… I'm just all mixed up inside. I didn't want this—none of it. I wanted to get a Guarding position here at the Academy… to be a teacher." Her face crumpled up, a fresh batch of tears slipping free.
I tugged at a loose thread on the sleeve of my sweatshirt, feeling completely out of my element; I wasn't the comforting sort—I preferred to keep my own emotions locked up inside me, and for others to do the same. "It's not my place to influence you one way or the other… but there are dhampir couples who would love to adopt a baby since they can't have one of their own. If you decide to go through with the pregnancy… you do have options, okay? And one of those is the opportunity to give a childless couple the greatest gift they could ever hope to receive."
She swiped at the tears on her cheeks, staring off into space, not answering me—in fact, she remained silent for so long that I began to worry that I'd overstepped my bounds. "Look… I didn't mean to—"
"You had something to do with this, didn't you?" She cut me off, her eyes flicking over to lock with mine. "You convinced them not to send me to a commune."
I chewed at the corner of my lip, unsure of how I should respond. I didn't want her to feel indebted to me—and I knew she would if she knew I'd argued on her behalf. "No… honestly… I didn't. Someone informed the Queen what was going on—having you come to Court was all her idea. She really cares that dhampirs receive fair treatment."
Her sudden burst of laughter startled me so much I jumped—I eyed her warily, wondering if she was on the verge of hysterics. "I've been sitting here for hours wishing I was dead—thinking my life was ruined and that I'd spend the rest of it being forced to fuck Moroi men for money. And now… even though this horrible, disgusting thing has happened to me… it almost seems worth it, in a weird way. I mean… I'm going to get to finish my training at Court—where the best Guardians in the world serve. I might get to train with your brother, or with Guardian Hathaway… to learn things that I'd never experience here."
"My grandmother always says that every dark, dismal cloud has a silver lining—I guess that is the reward we get for making it through the bad things, yes?" I smiled, standing up—leaning over to hug her; she hesitated for a moment, then returned the embrace, squeezing me tight. "If you ever need to talk about this… or anything at all… you just call me, okay? I'm the only Belikova at Saint Basil's. Or you can get my number in Baia from my brother when you get to Court."
"Thanks Miss Belikova—"
"Vika… I'm just Vika," I said softly, pulling away.
A discreet knock sounded on the door behind me—I glanced over my shoulder as Adrian stepped inside, flashing an apologetic smile. "Sorry to interrupt, but they're ready for us at the airstrip—it's time to go."
Carslile shifted in the chair, narrowing her eyes as she studied him. "I remember you now—"
"Well you should… I'm the one who helped you break that asshole's compulsion." Adrian leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.
"No… I mean I remember you from before that. You were here last year, right? You used to follow Rose Hathaway around."
He grimaced. "Blame the alcohol—I've sobered up since then."
Her eyes flicked from Adrian to me, then back again. "Are you stalking her now?"
He shrugged. "I suppose you could say that… but I don't think she minds."
"She has a boyfriend, you know." Carslile scowled at him. "A Guardian—"
"Yeah, I know. I'll let you in on a little secret…" Adrian dug in his pocket, pulling out his ring—Carslile gasped as he slid it on. "I'm him."
"I…oh… well…" she blinked, her brow wrinkling. "I guess it's okay then."
Adrian—or rather, Johnson—frowned. "That's it? No amazement? No questions?"
Carslile eyed him a moment, then shrugged. "It's not my business. I mean… it would be different if you were trying to fool her or something—then I'd kick your ass. But you're not… so it's okay."
The ring came off—Adrian stared at her with a puzzled look on his face. "Why would I try to fool her?"
"Your reputation isn't that great—everyone says you're some sort of… you know." She blushed, her eyes dropping to the floor. "But I guess they're just rumors. I've seen the way you… uh… Guardian Johnson… looks at her. You never looked at Hathaway like that."
My face heated—I ducked my head down, attempting to hide the flush of pleasure that colored my cheeks. Despite the fact she was wrong, it was hard to ignore the surge of happiness that her words had roused within me. I demurred, rationalizing away the comment. "That is probably because you never saw Guardian Johnson look at her—just Adrian. I am sure he often wore a similar look, you just don't realize it because he looked different then, yes?"
Her eyes continued to flick between us—her lips slowly curving up into a slow, self- satisfied smile. "Nah… he's doing it right now. Trust me… he never looked all goofy like that when he was with Hathaway."
"Excuse me?" Adrian shot her an offended look. "I don't do goofy."
"You know what I mean… sort of… love struck. The way cartoon characters look when they get hearts in their eyes." Her expression shifted—a look of wistful longing replacing her smug satisfaction. "It's really sort of… sweet. I hope someday someone will look at me like that."
Adrian's gaze shifted from her face to the air around her—his brow wrinkling as he studied something only he could see. His indignant expression melted away, a look of worry slowly replacing it—whatever he saw, it obviously disturbed him greatly.
I stood up, my eyes still locked on his face—wondering what had upset him. "We should be going—"
He shook his head, his eyes moving over to me as he pushed himself away from the wall. "You're right—Alberta and Yeva already headed over with the luggage… they're probably wondering what's taking so long."
I nodded, reaching over and laying my hand on Carslile's, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I will be at Court for a bit longer—if you get lonely and need to see a familiar face, I'm staying in the Royal guest suites."
"Maybe you can show me around," she offered, giving me a hesitant smile.
"Sure… though I haven't had much time to explore," I admitted. "It's a lot bigger than I thought it would be. I'll probably get us both lost—"
"Which is why I'll play tour guide and you two lovely ladies can be my tourees."
"I think you mean tourists," Carslile stretched her legs out on the oversized ottoman in front of her, appearing a little more at ease; the trapped, fearful look in her eyes had vanished completely—she looked more relaxed now that she knew a commune wasn't in her future.
"Whatever—you say tomato… I say Bloody Mary." He shrugged, tugging open the door. "Listen—if I were you, I'd lay low until the Guardians arrive from Court. Kirova wasn't too happy at having the Queen get involved—better stay under her radar."
"I will… thanks. For everything." I was almost to the door when her voice stopped me—I glanced back over my shoulder, arching a brow. "Could you tell them I'd like to see that counselor now? I think I'm ready to talk to her about what happened."
"Of course—that's a very wise decision, Stacey. Talking about it won't take the pain away… but I promise it will make it easier to bear."
"That's enough—for now at least. Hopefully in time… it will all fade away. Like a bad dream, you know?"
I nodded, brushing past Adrian; Deirdre had kept her word—she was sitting outside the door in a folding chair, jotting down notes in a file. "Ms. Szendrey? She wants to talk to you—she seems a lot better."
The Moroi woman smiled, standing up. "Excellent—that's exactly what I was hoping for. Thank you Viktoria—I want you to know I'll be sending a letter to Saint Basil's outlining what happened here. They can add it to your file—I think it will prove helpful when you graduate."
"That isn't necessary—"
"I think it is. You acted instinctively, protecting someone without thinking about your own welfare—that type of selflessness deserves to be rewarded. Testimonials like the one I'll be sending can be beneficial when negotiating compensation with the Royals." Giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze, she moved past me—greeting Carslile warmly as she shut the door.
"My little heroine," Adrian teased, claiming my hand as we moved towards the exit. "Rushing in and saving the day must be in the Belikov genes."
"It wasn't like that at all," I murmured, blushing. "She was acting extremely strange… then I felt him using Spirit. When he got cocky… I snapped. I guess it just shows I need to work on my control more—I could have restrained him without resorting to violence."
"Maybe you could have, Angel, but what if it had been someone else trying to stop him? They wouldn't be immune to his compulsion. I think you taught him a pretty important lesson."
"I doubt it. I've met his kind before… they never learn." I glanced over at him, studying his profile. "I'm assuming you had something to do with Lissa finding out what was happening?"
He smirked, shrugging his shoulders. "In a roundabout way. I called Abe and asked him to pass the word along."
"It's a good thing you did… I have a feeling that horrible old woman wanted to ship me off to some gulag," I grumbled.
"We don't have those here, sweetheart—just plain old prisons," he smiled, squeezing my hand.
"Well I wouldn't want to end up in one of those either." I huffed, making a face. "I am very glad I do not attend this Academy—there is no way I could deal with her on a regular basis."
His lips twitched up in a wry grin. "You know… it's funny… Rose always used to gripe about what a hard ass Kirova was—she'd bitch and moan about how the she was always riding her, just waiting for the opportunity to expel her. I thought once Rose left there was no way Kirova would ever let her re-enroll—I figured when she came back, I'd take her to Court with me. I planned on convincing Aunt Tati to let her guard me even though she hadn't graduated, but Avery almost killing Lissa really changed Kirova's attitude—she practically welcomed Rose back with open arms, like she was some kind of returning prodigy."
Despite my trying to school my features, I frowned. I knew he loved Roza, but hearing him talk about the plans he'd made for a future with her really hurt—and as silly as it was… I didn't like the thought of her guarding him, either. It awakened a wave of jealousy inside me that was almost impossible to ignore. "You wanted her to guard you?"
"Mhmmm… not really— she would have been my Guardian in name only. I just wanted to be with her any way I could. I knew she'd balk at the idea of my financially supportting her, so it seemed like the best solution—that was she could draw a salary and be independent until I convinced her to marry me."
The ache in my chest doubled—I bit my lip, ducking my head down to hide the pain his words had roused. "I see."
"Of course, she had other plans—the entire time I was trying to work out a happily ever after for us, she was plotting out a way to break Victor Dashkov out of jail." His voice was bitter—the memories he'd stirred weren't good ones. "She kept reassuring me that there was nothing going on… that it was me she wanted to be with… but the whole time I was dreaming about our future… she was thinking about your brother."
I didn't respond—there was nothing I could say that would erase what had happened… nothing I could do to make him forget Roza's betrayal. His hand tightened around mine so much that it was almost painful—I squeezed his back, trying to silently show my support, but it seemed like a pitifully small gesture in light of the pain he was feeling. We lapsed into silence as we crossed the campus, heading for the motor pool; from time to time, I glanced over at him—trying to gauge his mindset, but he kept his gaze locked on the ground beneath our feet, making it impossible for me to see his eyes.
The pathway beneath our feet branched off through a thick copse of trees—gradually concrete replaced the decorative brick, alerting me that we were near our destination. I forced myself to speak up—I had to make sure he was okay before we reached the others. "Dusha… are you okay? Do you need—"
"No… I'm fine… just thinking about things," he muttered.
"Things with Roza?"
"No… I was actually thinking about Carslile."
I glanced over at him, slowing my pace—hoping he would match it. He did. "What about her?"
"It doesn't matter what she does… she's never going to be able to make a living as a Guardian. Her future is ruined, Vika."
I frowned. "No it's not. She has options—and she's not a quitter. She told me she wants to finish her training. She wants to be an instructor."
"I'm sure she does, but the fact of the matter is there's no way they'll let her work with students… and she'll never get a charge," he said. "Even if she passes her trials with flying colors, no Moroi will trust her enough to accept her into service."
I stopped walking. "What do you mean?"
"What happened will go on her record, Angel—all of it. Think about it—she was repeatedly raped by a Moroi while under compulsion. Anyone who reads that is bound to wonder what kind of long term affect it will have on her. No Royal Moroi is going to put their life in the hands of someone who might have PTSD or who might subconsciously harbor a grudge against the Moroi for what happened to her."
"That's ridiculous! She wouldn't—"
"Is it? Would you trust her to guard me, Vika?"
I scowled. "No—but that has nothing to do with what happened. I wouldn't trust anyone with your life but me."
The corners of his lips quirked up in an amused half smile. "Not even Dimitri?"
"Especially not Dimitri—he already wants to kill you, remember?"
"Fine… what about Rose?"
"Absolutely not—no matter who Roza is assigned to, her initial instinct will always be to protect Lissa and Dimitri before anyone else." I stared off into the distance, mentally running over all the dhampirs I knew—Novices as well as full-fledged Guardians. "I was wrong… there is one person I would trust—and that trust proves that your theory about Novice Carslile is completely wrong."
"Care to elaborate on that Angel? You're being cryptic—"
"I would trust your life to Yeva… and not because she is my grandmother. I'd trust her because she was the best. Everything I know, I learned from her—she's even taught me things that they don't teach in the Academies."
"That doesn't exactly prove me wrong, Vik—"
"She was almost raped by her charge… and she was forced to watch him burn my grandfather to death right in front of her. It was a horrifying, evil thing, but it didn't leave her bitter, or turn her against the Moroi—if it had, she never would have allowed any of us to go to Saint Basil's. She wouldn't have worked so hard to train us to be the most effective killing machines possible if she held a grudge."
He stared at me a moment, open mouthed, then he shifted, averting his gaze to the ground—the faintest hint of a flush racing across his cheeks. "I suppose it would be really inappropriate for me to say that hearing you talk about how lethal you are is kind of hot… wouldn't it?"
I smiled. "That is hardly the point I was trying to make, Adrian."
"I know… that was my charming attempt at lightening a really intense conversation." His expression softened as he glanced up at me. "I'm sorry Yeva had to go through that—"
"Please don't mention it to her—I don't think she's ever told anyone but me. The only reason I said anything was to make you see that Stacey isn't a lost cause."
"I'm not the one you have to convince, sweetheart—and there's a little more to it than you think. She's had compulsion used on her for a very long time—while I had her under… she confessed that he's been doing it for almost two years." Sighing deeply, he squeezed my hand. "I think the reason he pulled that shit today was to discredit her. Stripping like that in front of everyone… that's not exactly something good girls do, you know? I think he was trying to make her look like a slut so that when it got out she was pregnant, no one would believe her if she told them the truth."
"It makes sense… but he didn't succeed, Dusha," I pointed out. "We discovered the truth, so everyone will know why she—"
"She's unbalanced Vika—I saw it in her Aura. Probably from having her mind fucked with for such a long time."
"What do you mean… unbalanced?" I frowned, not liking the direction he was headed one little bit.
"She has the potential to go insane, Viktoria—what the hell do you think I mean?" He snapped, releasing my hand.
I flinched at the anger in his voice, but I didn't move away from him; instead, I studied him, cataloging the warning signs—committing them to my mind. He was avoiding my gaze, but there were other tells that were not so easy to hide—my eyes dropped to his hand, watching as his fingers began to spastically twitch. "Adrian… how much spirit have you—"
The scoffing sound he made cut me off. "Enough that my Aura probably matches your little Novice friend… hell, at this point, mines probably a lot worse."
I glanced around, checking to make sure there was no one near us. "How do you know that's what you saw in her Aura, Dusha? Perhaps it was something else… maybe something that ties to her pregnancy—"
"I've seen it—it surrounds Lissa when she's dancing to close to the edge," he muttered—his hand moved up, fingers combing through his hair, tugging roughly at the strands. "I can feel them seeping into my mind—livid purple… prussian blue and charcoal, with a slash of olive green… the colors all mixing and muddling up together. Gray to purple… then to blue… yellow to green—like the sky before a tornado forms. They're swirling around in my head in a funnel, destroying everything they touch. Eventually… she's going to snap. Just like Lissa… just like me."
"You aren't going to go crazy, Adrian—I won't let it happen! My blood—"
"Not today… or tomorrow… or even next week… but it will happen. I'll slip too far into the darkness to find my way out again—it's inevitable, Vika. You can't be with me twenty four hours a day—"
"I can." I grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at me—ignoring the way my stomach clenched at the frenzied look in his eyes. "You heard Yeva earlier—she gave her blessing. I can be your Guardian—I can protect you from everything, including the madness, if you'll let me."
"You have classes to attend—"
"Fuck school!" I snapped. The profanity fell from my lips easily—my tone clearly betrayed the scorn I felt at the implication that my education came first. "You are more important to me than graduating, Adrian Ivashkov—I can guard you without a diploma just as easily as Roza could have! The fact I am capable of taking down the experienced Guardians at this Academy proves that I am more than qualified to do it right now!"
"You can't just quit—"
"The hell I can't! I don't even need parental consent—I'm an adult, remember?"
Either the anger in my voice or my cursing affected him—it seemed to pull him back from the demons that were tearing up his mind. The confused, manic look in his eyes lessened—to my surprise it was replaced with an intense determination as he stared at me. "If you drop out before you graduate because of me, how do you think Dimitri will react, Angel? He'd hold it against me forever—is that what you want?"
It was a logical point, but it only served to fan the spark of anger inside me into a full out blaze. "Did Dimitri take me into consideration when he broke his precious Roza out of jail and became a fugitive? Or when he went on that fucking suicide mission in the cave? No! He didn't even call us to tell us what was going on—to hear our voices one last time in case the worse came to pass. From the moment he met Roza Hathaway, she became the center focus of his world—I'll be damned if I sit back and let my life revolve around pleasing him!"
His hands darted out, cupping my cheeks—his dark green eyes locking with mine. "His approval matters to me, Viktoria. He's the closest thing you've got to a father—I want to prove I'm worthy to him. Your dropping out would just be another nail in my coffin as far as he's concerned."
"Yeva is the head of the family—"
"And she told me I had to make peace with Dimitri," he snapped, releasing my face and jerking back—increasing the distance between us. "That's exactly what I'm going to do—the only thing that remains to be seen is whether or not you'll help me make it happen! You just don't get it at all, do you? I need to prove it's real this time, Viktoria—this thing that's between us. Not just to your brother… I have to prove it to myself! I can't let what happened with Rose happen again—if it does, it will destroy me."
His raised voice was tinged with something I couldn't name—it disturbed me almost as much as the change I could see taking place in his eyes. The momentary clarity my anger had roused was ebbing back—it was being replaced with the lost, far away confusion that I'd seen when I'd found him on the floor of our room, mumbling about how I was gone.
I didn't stop to think—I just acted. Grabbing his face in my hands, I crushed my lips against his—so hard that it was almost painful… hard enough to bruise. He reacted automatically—pulling me closer; his mouth opened beneath mine, welcoming the prodding insistence of my tongue—completely unaware of the hidden motive behind the intensity of my demanding kiss.
It took less than a second for me to slice open my tender flesh on the sharpness of a fang; the bitter, coppery taste of my blood seasoned our kiss as it flowed from my tongue, filling his mouth with what he was too stubborn to admit he needed. His moan of pleasure was muffled by my mouth; I pressed myself closer, rubbing against him—as affected by the exchange as he was. I could feel the faintest hint of the ecstasy that our sharing created begin to stir within me… but at that exact same moment, he tensed, jerking back—tearing his lips from mine with a muttered curse.
"God damn it, I said I was fine!" He glared at me, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand. "I've been dealing with this for years—I know what I can handle!"
"Clearly you don't!" I tried to keep my voice even, but my frustration seeped through, sharpening the edge of my words. "I could see the look in your eye—you were starting to drift away!"
"You can't do that every time I seem a little off, Viktoria—you'd be drained within a fucking week. I know my limits better than you do, for fucks sake." He scowled at me—I scowled right back. "Don't ever do that again—"
"Or what? You'll start treating me as horribly as Roza treated you when you tried to help her? Too late—you're doing that right now!"
It slipped out before I could stop it; he flinched as if I'd struck him, but other than that, he did nothing that would betray how my harsh accusation affected him. Without another word, he stormed off down the path, leaving me to stare after him in dismay—wondering how I could utter something so horrible… so cruel. It wasn't in my nature to speak harshly to the people I cared about—it wasn't like me to use my words as weapons that would leave painful, aching wounds.
A thought struck me—immediately my stomach clenched, bitter bile rolling inside me. Gagging, I doubled over, vomiting violently in the bushes beside the path—my body shaking as I tried to shove away the terrifying, dark, ugly truth that had occurred to me.
I'd allow my turbulent emotions to make me lash out at someone who hadn't deserved it, which wasn't my way… in fact, it was something I'd fought against for as long as I could remember—thanks to the nightmarish memories that plagued me, and the scars upon my skin. I had thoughtlessly acted like the one person I hated most in all the world.
For the first time in my life… I was truly my father's daughter—in the worst possible way imaginable.
A/N: Unedited/Unproofed
[I actually started to proof this one, but five pages in and I'd added 2k in notes, so... yeah, I stopped proofing right then and there, lol.]