Dimitri's POV

I wanted to take back these vicious words as soon as I'd said them, but it was too late now. Rose looked at me with wide eyes for a moment before her expression changed. There was no pain, no sign of just how much my words must have hurt her, just coldness. I knew it was a façade, of course, but I knew just as well that this was the only expression I would see on her face for a long time to come.

She didn't say another word before she turned and walked out the door. I didn't stop her. It was a tragedy to know that she would not reward me with her smiles anymore after tonight, but it was a necessary one. Rose could not know what I had just learned.

I was glad that it had been Sasha who'd given me the information – Rose may have learned some Russian in the past few years, but she had clearly not been able to follow our conversation.

"He would have likely travelled without a guardian, and you may not have realised that he's royal at all," I told him after I'd given him a brief description of what I assumed Adrian Ivashkov still looked like.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment before Sasha answered, "Are you sure? I saw someone on Wednesday, but he was definitely not alone."

Alarm bells started ringing then and there. He would have travelled alone, I was sure of that. Perhaps it wasn't Ivashkov, after all. "And he definitely fits that description?"

"Yes. Kept smoking those nasty smelling cigarettes as well."

Shit. "Clove cigarettes?"

"Yes, those! Does that mean anything to you?"

I let out a quiet sigh, quickly looking over at Rose in hopes that she hadn't noticed. Luckily, she seemed lost in thought. "Unfortunately, it does. Can you tell me who he was travelling with?"

"Two dhampirs. Likely from back home, definitely not American. Younger than us; I don't know them. Didn't see any promise mark, either."

All right, maybe he had simply decided to hire some outside help. It wasn't impossible. "Is that all you can tell me?"

"No, no, there was a Moroi lady. Probably in her fifties? Might have been his mother, I don't know. Average height, blonde, fancy dress. Must be royal, but I didn't recognise her."

The description did not fit his mother – whom he had no reason to take to Montana, either way – and I tried to remember if he might've known and trusted anyone like that. I came up short, which led me to the only possible conclusion: she was not a friend but an enemy.

"Thank you, Sasha. One last thing: did he go with her willingly? Or did it seem like he was forced to?"

There was still hope. Maybe my assumption was wrong.

"Can't say that. He seemed drunk out of his mind, which I didn't even know was possible to that extent for Moroi."

Double shit. There was no doubt in my mind now. Our enemies knew of Spirit magic, and they surely knew that alcohol would numb it. It only made sense that, if they were to have captured Adrian, they would keep him drunk. Not only to make him compliant but also to keep him from contacting Rose.

There was no way I could let her know that. She would try to find him right away if she knew he was most likely with the enemy. She would run off again, putting herself into far too much danger. I couldn't risk her doing anything without a proper plan. Without a team. Eventually, when I knew more, I would tell her.

But I'd need to give her something now, too. She was looking at me expectantly, and I figured it couldn't hurt to tell her that Adrian had at least made it out of Pennsylvania. After all, we knew there were Strigoi lurking in that area, and maybe knowing he hadn't been killed right then and there would ease her worries just a little bit.

In hindsight, things may have gone better if I hadn't told Rose anything at all. On the other hand, it was more than likely that she would have sniffed out the lie, either way. This conversation could not possibly have gone well, and I cursed myself for making the calls in front of her at all. Why didn't I wait until later?

With a deep sigh, I decided to get dressed and move to my office instead of staying here. Sleep would elude me, in any case, and I had some research to do about the mystery Moroi that had brought Lord Ivashkov to Montana.

Unfortunately, Sasha's description was far too generic to work with. Nevertheless, I decided to take a look at the database of Lissa's political opposition to check for a woman that might fit the criteria. A few came up, but none of them particularly stuck out to me. No involvement in any specific organisations we had identified as being dangerous previously, and no suspicious behaviours had been noted. It was no use, I would have to drive down to the airport myself and take a look at the security tapes.

I called Sasha once more and let him know to speak to the security office there. I needed them to not delete the tapes until I could make it there, which probably wouldn't be for another day or two.

Just as soon as I'd hung up on him, there was a knock on my door. They waited for my reply so I knew it couldn't have been Rose.

"Come in!"

It was Alberta, who looked less than amused. "Where's Hathaway? I believe I need to speak to both of you."

"She's sleeping, as she should be," I said pointedly. "I'm assuming this is about the Badica girl?"

Alberta crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Is this about the girl whose roommate mysteriously disappeared the same night Rose needed me to cover her classes and who now believes someone has broken into their room? Why, yes, it is. However did you know?"

"Because we've – I've – got a big favour to ask you, and I believe some explanations are in order."