I had been patrolling the surroundings for several hours, trying to pay attention to my surroundings and not get lost in my own thoughts. As I entered the house, I heard the creak of the floor and steady footsteps, but this time, I didn't prepare for a possible attack. I knew that rhythm well—it had been imprinted on my heart ever since we started living together.
Dimitri, dressed in a warm hoodie, stepped out into the hallway to meet me. He looked relatively well-rested—his eyes keenly scanning the area, and his hair was tied back in a practical, short ponytail. A smile appeared on my face at the sight of him, and his eyes softened when he saw me. A wave of belonging and peace washed over me, so deeply that I felt it in every nerve of my body. Without a word, I walked up to him and, cupping his face which was now lightly covered in stubble, kissed him on the lips. His strong hands gently held me at my waist.
"How are you feeling?" he whispered, almost purring the words against my lips. I moved closer to him, to the warmth of his body that contrasted with my cold hands after the patrol outside. I allowed his clean, familiar scent to envelop me and ground me. The word "calm" came to mind automatically, but it didn't quite capture how deeply at peace I felt just by his presence.
"I'm fine. A little hungry," I smiled mischievously, and Dimitri fought to keep a serious expression. That was my standard response whenever I felt good. He lifted a hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear, and I shivered as his rough fingers gently brushed my skin.
"I can make you pancakes if you'd like. We haven't had them in a while."
I shook my head, our faces still so close that the movement made our noses brush against each other.
"No, thank you, comrade," I whispered against his lips, lazily drawing out the kiss while gripping the fabric of his hoodie. "But I'm going to bed. I need to rest…"
Yet, the thought of pulling away from him stirred protest in my body. I wanted to tell him everything—about Kim Larson, Adrian, Prince Drozdov's daughter, Sydney, and the alchemists—but I felt drained and needed sleep.
Dimitri sensed that I needed a little more closeness—the quiet reassurance of his presence. He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead before pulling me into his arms. I held him tightly, resting my hand on his firm, familiar back. Closing my eyes, I let myself sink into the comfort of his embrace, feeling grounded and secure. Dimitri held me in his arms for a few moments before pulling away just enough to look at me tenderly.
"Go to sleep. When you wake up, we'll make those pancakes."
I stood on my toes to brush my lips against his once more. I found them warm and inviting, and the pleasure of that kiss sent shivers down my spine. Unable to resist, I traced his lips with my tongue, and he let me, opening his mouth and pulling me even closer. The shiver of pleasure turned into a real flame, igniting my whole body with the need to touch him. I pressed myself against him, deepening our kiss and gripping his arms, digging my nails into the soft fabric of his hoodie. When Dimitri pulled away, it was only to trail a series of sensual kisses along my jaw and neck. I ran my fingers through his hair, instinctively pressing his head closer to my neck, silently urging him not to stop his sweet caresses.
I didn't have to worry. Dimitri, like me, was starved for our touch. He held me even closer, finding my lips again. If only we were at home… In my mind, I imagined peeling his hoodie off and kissing my way down his chest, but in reality, I had to settle for playfully biting his lower lip. Dimitri let out a quiet groan at the bittersweet pleasure, but that sound seemed to wake him from the trance he had fallen into. He gently pulled away, still holding me in his arms but preventing further kisses. I sighed in frustration, catching my breath, while he smiled—half flustered, half amused.
"I think I should let you get some sleep," he whispered, still breathing unevenly. I could barely focus on his words, distracted by his fast, hot breath and the rapid beating of his heart beneath my fingers.
"I don't mind, believe me," I murmured. Dimitri chuckled softly and kissed my forehead. For a brief moment, we stayed like that, our breaths falling into sync. I closed my eyes, leaning into him, while he rested his lips against my forehead, gently stroking my waist. "I love you," I whispered into the silence surrounding us.
"I love you too. Now, get some sleep."
I turned away, and he gently nudged me toward our bedroom. I shot him one last playful glance over my shoulder and couldn't help but notice the softness in his gaze. Rolling my eyes, I grinned widely. For all his reputation as a terrifying, dangerous guardian, he had far too tender and adoring eyes.
Our bed was neatly made as if Dimitri hadn't been sleeping here just ten minutes ago. I changed into my pajamas, but before lying down, my eyes landed on the t-shirt he wore to bed. Without hesitation, I grabbed it and pulled it over my head, inhaling his scent with delight. Ever since we moved in together, I had gotten terribly spoiled by falling asleep in Dimitri's arms almost every night. Tonight, his shirt would have to be a poor substitute.
I slid under the covers, pleased to discover that they still smelled like my boyfriend. I fell asleep quickly, but I wasn't lucky enough to drift into peaceful dreams. The images flashing through my mind left me with a clenched stomach and fear coursing through my body. I watched Lady Drozdov's car accident, eerily similar to the one in which I had died three years ago. Everything was red—blood on the windshield, shattered glass from the broken windows. The woman I initially mistook for Prince Drozdov's wife (or at least how I imagined her) turned out to be Lissa's mother. Beside her lay her husband, dangling lifelessly from his seatbelt, blood covering his face. Andre, whom I had once considered a brother, stared into nothingness with dead eyes, until I touched him, trying to wake him. He suddenly came to life, locking me in an icy, hostile gaze, freezing the blood in my veins. He grabbed me by the throat, and I screamed, knowing he wanted to take me with him to the world of the dead, where the spirits had always tried to drag me.
The shattered car morphed into the one we had driven after rescuing Jill, unaware of the assassins waiting for us in Palm Springs. The first shot hit Dimitri, who sat beside me. I screamed, reaching for him, trying to shield him retroactively with my own body. I watched the light fade from his eyes, his body collapsing into eerie stillness. I wanted to scream, claw, rewind time, and murder anyone I saw, but I didn't get the chance to touch his vacant face before the second shot struck me. Our car skidded, tires screeching, flipping over. But I no longer cared. I braced myself for a swift end as my skull was about to shatter against the pavement.
Instead of asphalt, I landed on the cold forest ground. Jill screamed in terror, struggling against the attacker. One hand gripped her throat, and the other ventured between her legs. I tried to get up, but the second assailant kicked me in the face. I spat blood, and when I looked at him, he shot me straight in the heart.
Another scene morphed into a real memory. Searing pain in my chest. Blood seeping from my heart, my mouth, my nose. Dimitri and Lissa hovering over me in panic. Dimitri was shouting something, but I couldn't hear what. One of his hands pressed desperately against my chest in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding, while the other cradled my face. I could feel my life slipping away along with my blood, cruelly pouring through Dimitri's fingers. The pain was so overwhelming that even his touch became distant. Lissa looked like she was about to lose her mind from despair.
But suddenly, Lissa's face shifted. Now, with the same agonized expression, she was sitting in a white room, restrained in a chair by a straitjacket. At first, I didn't understand her frantic, desperate movements—until I noticed the clear glass separating us. I pounded against the invisible barrier, trying to reach her. It was useless. No matter how many times I struck it, I couldn't break through. It didn't matter anyway. My best friend's wild eyes showed no recognition. She lunged at me with a bloodcurdling scream, and the glass between us vanished. No one could save me when she sank her fangs into my throat, tearing into me like a feral beast.
I jolted awake in the empty bed, clutching my neck. As many times as I had died in my dreams, the feral look in Lissa's eyes had terrified me more than my own death. Trembling, I buried my head against my knees, struggling to steady my breath. When I finally calmed down, I checked the time—I had only slept for three and a half hours.
I could have tried to sleep for another hour and a half, but I knew it would be pointless. My pulse was still erratic, and the phantom sensations from my nightmares refused to fade. My eyes drifted to the empty half of the bed, and I realized that seeing Dimitri would help me far more than reliving my fears alone in these sweat-dampened sheets.
Throwing off his t-shirt, I pulled on a warm hoodie. For a few seconds, I let my gaze rest on the forest outside, painted in the golden hues of sunrise before I quietly stepped out in search of Dimitri. Years of training made my footsteps nearly silent, but despite that, he lifted his head the moment I appeared in the doorway of the living room.
He sat at the table with his laptop, just as I had earlier—though unlike me, he was probably using his account legally. His position made sense; it allowed him to keep an eye on the entrances while also monitoring whatever was happening outside. The morning light cast a soft glow over him, making his sharp features look almost ethereal.
Seeing him basking in the sunlight wasn't unexpected either. Ever since his transformation, he had taken every opportunity to soak up its warmth, as if reassuring himself that he was no longer one of the Strigoi. When he noticed me, his brows lifted slightly in surprise.
"Rose, I wasn't expecting you for another…" He glanced at his watch and smiled faintly. "…eight hours."
I stuck my tongue out at him before slipping onto his lap. Perfectly attuned to me, Dimitri shifted just enough to help me settle against him, allowing me to bury my face between his neck and shoulder. Every movement was natural like it was already imprinted in our muscle memory. I closed my eyes, savoring the simple comfort of his touch.
"Sleeping sucks," I mumbled, pressing a soft kiss to his neck, simply because I wanted to feel him closer. One of Dimitri's hands rested protectively on the back of my head, while the other curled around my back, anchoring me to him.
"Nightmare?" he murmured into my hair, pressing gentle, reassuring kisses against my temple. "Was it Robert?"
I shook my head slightly, still pressing against his skin, breathing him in, letting his warmth soothe me like a balm.
"No… Just the usual nightmares. Nothing special, really. I just didn't want to be alone anymore."
Dimitri didn't press for details. He simply held me closer, his fingers tracing calming patterns on my back, his lips brushing over my hair in wordless reassurance. At home, we had both grown accustomed to each other's nightmares. I knew exactly how much space to give him when he woke up gasping for air, drowning in his own memories, and how much touch he found calming. He knew how to hold me so that I felt nothing but him.
Like now, he kept me close as if silently promising that nothing could touch me while I was in his arms. Giving me a space filled only with the steady, unwavering force of his love. I let myself be held, let him stroke my back, and press kisses to my temple as I focused on syncing my breath with his. I needed nothing more than the warmth of his breath against my skin, the familiar press of his fingers tracing along my spine, the certainty of his presence beside me.
After a while, I finally pulled back slightly, feeling steadier, and he studied my face with quiet intensity. To reassure him, I pressed a kiss to his lips, taking advantage of my position on his lap to hover just slightly above him. He kissed me back just as sweetly, sinking into the warmth we shared. When we finally parted, I ran my fingers over the slight stubble along his jaw, savoring the rough texture I had always loved.
"Thank you," I whispered, and he simply shook his head, as if to say, "There's nothing to thank me for." Instead, he leaned into my touch, rubbing his face slightly against my palm like a cat seeking affection, and my heart swelled with love.
"You're welcome," he murmured just as softly before turning his head to press a kiss to my palm. I stroked his cheekbone with my thumb. "Maybe we should make the pancakes now," Dimitri suggested, attempting to straighten, only to find me still pressed against him like I was glued to him.
With a quiet laugh, he finally lifted me off his lap and set me back on my feet. I crossed my arms in protest, pouting.
"I'm way too tired to do anything but sit on your lap."
Still smiling, Dimitri reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Come on. There's no better way to distract you than with dessert for breakfast."
I narrowed my eyes playfully, already ready to argue that there were plenty of distractions better than food, but before I could retort, he took my hand and led me toward the kitchen.
Just like yesterday, the sun streamed through the wide windows, making the entire kitchen gleam as the light reflected off the bright countertops. I leaned against the edge of one of them, crossing my arms over my chest as Dimitri, with his uncanny ability to locate anything he needed, prepared a frying pan and bowls. He placed one on the counter behind me, and his fingers slid off it to rest on my waist—settling into a spot they knew all too well.
"Am I making them all by myself?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, pretending to sound annoyed. I scoffed, amused by his weak attempts to pull me out of my thoughts. I knew he wouldn't actually mind making the pancakes on his own.
"I don't know... do you even want me to help? You always whine that my pancakes are burnt," I shrugged. He let out a soft laugh, a sound that had the power to heal all the wounds on my heart.
"Because it's true." I smacked his chest, but he was quicker, tickling me just enough that I had to jump back with a laugh, smacking his long fingers. He could have played the piano with them, and sometimes I thought they were made solely for the purpose of grazing my skin gently, leaving behind trails of warmth.
"Oh, great. In that case, I'm sure you'll manage just fine without my help," I tried to inject some bite into my words, but Dimitri didn't take the bait. Instead, he smoothed a hand over my back and gently nudged me toward the fridge. I pulled out the milk and eggs while he was already pouring an absurd amount of flour into the bowl. The entire package, to be exact.
"Planning to stock up for the next year?" I teased.
I placed the ingredients near the bowl and absentmindedly traced my fingers over the tattoos on his neck, just the way I knew he liked. His face softened under my touch, as if he were melting beneath my fingertips.
"At home, this barely lasts for you alone. Here, we have five extra people, remember?" I dug my fingernail into his skin in playful retaliation, but he didn't even flinch. I poured in the milk, and together, we cracked a dozen eggs into the mixture. Only twice did I have to fish out bits of shell, much to Dimitri's great amusement. While he whisked the batter—because we didn't want to wake anyone with a mixer—I set the kettle to boil and prepared two mugs: one with coffee and the other with black tea and sugar.
We weren't just being quiet to be considerate. The truth was, there was something deeply satisfying about cooking together in this sunlit kitchen, in the middle of all the surrounding chaos. It was a rare, quiet moment just for us.
"You have to add just the right amount—not too much, but enough," he instructed me, pouring oil into the pan. I rolled my eyes. I saw no reason to learn how to fry pancakes when he already did it perfectly. I laid out the jams, Nutella, and cream, waiting for the first pancake to be ready.
When Dimitri took it off the pan, I gave it a moment to cool before tearing pieces off haphazardly, eating it plain while leaning against the counter next to him. From time to time, I brushed my foot against his leg. My boyfriend bravely continued flipping the next pancakes.
"Last night, when everyone was asleep, Adrian went outside for a cigarette," I decided to tell Dimitri. He gave me a long look as he flipped the second pancake. I loved watching him do any kind of practical task because they always seemed to come so effortlessly to him. Every movement he made was precise and sure.
"Did you two talk?" he asked, lowering his voice. His movements distracted me so much that I had to remind myself what I wanted to tell him.
"Yeah. Like, really talk. We had a long, intense, and honest conversation about… everything that was between us."
Dimitri turned to face me, shock written all over his face.
"So… is that good or bad?"
I summed up everything Adrian and I had talked through. Dimitri listened with a stone-faced expression, occasionally flipping pancakes and pouring more oil into the pan. I also told him about Sydney and all the obstacles in their way.
"I've heard about those re-education camps," Dimitri murmured, setting aside the last pancake and turning off the stove. Taking advantage of the brief silence, I shoved a big bite of pancake into my mouth. "It's… inhumane. And very dangerous for Sydney. She could be in serious trouble if the Alchemists found out about her feelings for Adrian." He seemed lost in thought as we stacked the pancakes and set out plates on the table.
"I can't believe something like that still exists. As soon as we get home, I'm not letting this go. Lissa will have to do something to put an end to it."
Dimitri shot me a wary glance as he picked up his first pancake. The Alchemists weren't under Lissa's authority, but he knew me well enough to realize that such a detail wouldn't stop me.
"I'm impressed by what Adrian said," he changed the subject diplomatically, spreading cream on his pancake. "I didn't expect you two to be able to go back to being friends, at least not this quickly."
"I was shocked too," I nodded, dipping my torn pancake piece into Nutella. "I didn't even agree with him on everything. I think he forgave me a little too easily."
"It's hard to stay mad at you for long," he replied, shaking his head with a small smile.
I rolled my eyes. "You would know," I joked, nudging his foot under the table.
I also told him everything I had discovered during my late-night research—the fact that Prince Drozdov's wife had died in an accident and that there were no records of how his daughter, Lara, had died years later. Excitedly, I shared the information about Kim Larson and how she might be the person Tatiana had been trying to lead us to in her cryptic notes.
After cleaning up, I went to our bedroom to change. Once I was showered and dressed, exhaustion suddenly hit me like a wave. I lay down on our bed, hoping for a quick nap before heading back to the living room, but I ended up sleeping for several hours. Thankfully, it was dreamless.
When I woke up, the sunlight had already shifted out of our room, and I was wrapped in a warm blanket. Seeing that made me smile.
Taking advantage of a moment of privacy, I decided to visit Lissa. My heart clenched at the memory of her state from the night before. Thankfully, today Liss felt much better.
She was sitting in front of a mirror, trying to focus all her attention on applying makeup. It wasn't easy, considering she had to use a huge amount of concealer under her eyes to hide the dark circles, and every time she looked in the mirror, she saw her eyelids swollen from crying.
With a sigh, she began brushing her silky-smooth hair. Every tangle reminded her of how she had lain on Christian's lap, crying her heart out, but with determination, she refused to think about it. My stomach tightened with fear.
A knock on the door made her jump, but she managed to steady her voice.
"Come in!"
In the doorway stood Reece, holding a laptop in his hands.
"This is for Your Highness."
"Thank you very much, guardian Reece," Liss gave him a warm smile as he handed her the computer. "Is Christian downstairs?"
"Yes, Your Highness. He'll join you shortly."
"Thank you, guardian. Could I be alone for a moment?"
"Of course."
He left silently, and Liss let out a shaky breath. Even if Reece had noticed something, he chose not to comment. She logged into the laptop and opened the link sent by the royal guards. It led her to a livestream from one of the interrogation rooms.
Inside the cell sat the researcher I had taken to Prince Drozdov's estate while posing as his guardian—Sara. She looked far less professional than the last time I had seen her. Her hair had escaped its intricate bun, now tangled and trailing down her back. Her skin had taken on an unhealthy pallor. Her once perfectly tailored clothes now looked carelessly wrinkled. The state of her eyes, nervously darting around the room, and her tense posture further betrayed her weak condition. No wonder. She was screwed.
Hans entered the room, accompanied by three other guards. Our boss and Klara, Hans's second-in-command, sat at the interrogation table, while the remaining two took positions against the wall.
"Good morning, Ms. McLean," Hans greeted her in a tone I knew all too well. Considering I joined the guardian forces only a few months ago, I had been interrogated by Hans an alarmingly large number of times.
Sara looked at him with a mix of defeat and contempt. She hated him for capturing her, but her disdain ran even deeper.
Hans, however, was unfazed by her lack of reaction. In an emotionless voice, he began listing her rights and obligations as dictated by Moroi and human law while she glared at him with unmistakable hostility.
"Let me put it another way," Hans cleared his throat when she didn't respond to his question about whether she wanted to contact the Alchemists for legal counsel. "You were involved with the kidnappers of the Queen's sister. Because of the attack by your group, many guardians lost their lives. The princess went missing, and the Queen was put in danger. Right now, you are absolutely screwed, and how much depends entirely on our goodwill."
"We can't let you go free" Klara added in her usual composed voice. "But if you cooperate instead of hindering our investigation, it will certainly improve your situation to some extent."
Several tense moments passed as the researcher weighed her options. When I was sure Hans and Klara were about to leave her to her fate, she let out a heavy sigh and spread her cuffed hands as far apart as she could.
"What do you want to know?"
Neither of my superiors showed any sign of triumph, though I certainly would have made my satisfaction obvious.
"First of all, how did you find out about the Moroi community?" Hans asked.
The corner of Sara's mouth twitched in a grimace as if it pained her to answer. She stared at her hands as she spoke.
"I come from a family of Alchemists. My mother, Penelope McLean, holds a position with the Alchemists in Wisconsin. I wanted to take on that role as well, but my mother decided that my older sister would inherit it, following tradition. I was only given the tattoo that grants some of the benefits." She rolled up her sleeves, revealing a white lily tattooed on her wrist.
"If your mother is an Alchemist, then you should know that any contact with a Moroi or dhampir is strictly forbidden," Klara said.
Sara nodded. "Of course, I knew that. But I was always drawn to the world of Moroi. Especially to their magic. When I was a teenager, I gathered every piece of information I could from my mother. I was amazed at how little you knew, and how little curiosity you had about your own potential. Later, I began conducting independent research."
"What kind of research?" Hans asked, clearly displeased.
"For years, I've been reading old Moroi records about their magic—many of them were undiscovered. I spent years discussing my theories with magic instructors in your schools, using a fake email. However, most of them only have a basic education in the subject. Very few have dedicated as much passion to it as I have."
Hans and Klara exchanged glances.
"How did you meet Prince Drozdov?" Hans asked, fixing her with a hard stare.
She swallowed, and her voice trembled slightly as she answered.
"Prince Drozdov contacted me himself. As I said, I used to email your instructors under a fake name. Once, along with other elemental scholars, we began speculating about Saint Vladimir's power and discussing his symptoms. I presented a few arguments suggesting that Vladimir's power was different from the other elements. That was my first encounter with the power you now call 'spirit.' A few months or weeks later, Prince Drozdov reached out to me, and we began corresponding about this power."
"When was that?"
"About three years ago."
Lissa and I were completely stunned by this information. Why was Prince Drozdov interested in spirit magic back then, only to later pretend he knew nothing about it? He had never shown any sign that Lissa's abilities were familiar to him—whether during debates in the Royal Council or during the vote for the new monarch.
"What kind of information did you exchange?"
"As I said, we only discussed spirit magic—its connections to other elements, while at the same time its uniqueness. The prince also started his own research based on Saint Vladimir's biography. Together, we gathered information about him and other Moroi who we suspected might have shown signs of this gift."
I won't lie—it annoyed me a little that what I considered a stroke of genius last year had actually been done—and in a much better way—by at least a few other people.
"Why was the prince so interested in spirit magic three years ago, when none of us had even heard of it?" Klara finally voiced the question that had been running through both mine and Lissa's minds.
Sara stared at the table for a long time. She clenched her teeth, but it didn't stop a single tear from escaping—one we could clearly see from our angle. Finally, she whispered:
"Lara Drozdov had the spirit magic."
Lissa and I thought of the same curse word. Great minds think alike.
"When he found out, it was already too late for Lara. She died in an accident. But he thought that if he studied spirit magic, he might be able to help Claudia."
"Who is Claudia?" Hans asked as he flipped through the stack of papers on the table, searching for a name I hadn't seen in the prince's records either.
The researcher froze completely. If she had been scared before, now she was paralyzed. She stared at my superiors, unable to utter a single word. It was as if someone had cast a spell on her—she even stopped breathing.
"Ms. McLean, who is this girl?" Hans's voice was urgent. The researcher covered her eyes with her hand.
"You don't know about Claudia..."
"Who is Claudia?" Hans repeated, much more sharply this time. The researcher just shook her head, letting it drop onto her chest. Tears started streaming down her face. Hans glanced at Klara, realizing that their friendly chat with Sara was over.
For the next ten minutes, they tried to threaten, motivate, and manipulate her, but it was all in vain. Despite her earlier cooperation, the researcher was escorted out as an accomplice, and Hans, furious, threw the papers onto the floor. Sometimes, I felt like we could actually get along in moments like these.
Lissa hurried downstairs, eager to tell Christian about it, and started searching for Claudia. I decided to do the same. I crawled out from under my warm blanket and headed to the living room, where everyone was already gathered.
"Good morning, Rose," Adrian greeted me first, his smirk as smug as ever. "Why up so early?"
I rolled my eyes.
"I just took a nap, smartass. I was the one who made that mountain of pancakes this morning while everyone else was sound asleep."
I glanced at Dimitri, who was sitting in an armchair near Adrian, watching TV without much interest. At my comment, he raised one eyebrow but chose not to respond—he must have decided that my contribution to breakfast was enough. His eyes studied me closely, so to keep him from worrying, I winked at him. He had to fight back a smile.
Sydney was sitting at the table, engrossed in messages on her laptop. Eddie and Jill were playing cards. Angeline, who had been watching TV next to them, looked up as soon as I walked in. I approached Sydney and quickly filled her in on what I had learned from Lissa. Dimitri, who had been half-listening, abandoned the TV and joined us, analyzing the new information. I also summarized the results of my search from the night before.
"Hmm... hold on a sec," Sydney took a sip of coffee and started typing aggressively on her computer. I exchanged an amused glance with Dimitri. We often joked that Sydney was the only person who could rival him in coffee consumption.
"Relax, it's not like I'm in a hurry to go anywhere," I said, crossing my arms. What else did we have to do in this house? If Dimitri and I were here alone… well, I'd definitely have more ideas. I turned to him and ran my fingers along the back of his neck in his favorite way. He closed his eyes slightly, enjoying it.
"Actually..." he started, trying to focus despite my touch, "...we were thinking of heading out to see the feeders today, a few towns away. They're arranged by Kerem, so technically, by Abe."
"Alright, we can go. But all of us?"
"That's what I was thinking… I wouldn't want to leave any guardians behind, or Sydney without protection," he said, his concern evident, though our Alchemist didn't appreciate it.
"I'd be fine on my own," she muttered. I shrugged.
"Maybe Sydney doesn't have to go. That way, we'd have one less person to worry about."
"But what if someone finds us and she's left alone with no guardian?" Dimitri challenged me with logistics, but I fired back.
"And what if someone attacks us on the way, and Sydney could have been the only one actually safe?"
"But if she was attacked with us, she'd be surrounded by three trained guardians," he countered smoothly. I rolled my eyes.
"You're just being stubborn," I muttered.
"And I also have the final say," Dimitri grinned mischievously. I made a face at him so he'd know exactly what I thought of his "final say."
"I got it!" Sydney suddenly hissed, her eyes flashing with satisfaction. I swear, if she weren't one of my friends, I'd probably be afraid of her sometimes.
"Who is she?!" I couldn't contain my excitement. I nearly snatched her laptop away, but she turned it toward us, showing Claudia Drozdov's profile in one of the databases.
"She's Prince Drozdov's illegitimate daughter."
I quickly scanned all the visible information, then looked at her almost accusingly.
"There's no mention of her in any of our records!"
Sydney just shrugged, unfazed, as if she had always assumed our databases had to be worse.
"I told you, we have more detailed records. That's why I was so surprised when I couldn't find anything about Jill during your escape."
We started analyzing Claudia's profile. It turned out that the girl was a dhampir, two years younger than Lara, but raised in the same household. They attended the same elementary school, but Claudia was quickly removed due to mental health issues. After a series of tests, she was diagnosed with multiple psychiatric disorders—schizophrenia, a tendency toward depression, mania… A brief note mentioned that Claudia had started homeschooling, and that was the end of all available information.
"Do you think Prince Drozdov started hiding her because of these disorders?" I asked, disgusted by the idea. Dimitri's hand wrapped around my back, tracing gentle shapes on my skin.
"I think that's very likely, especially since Prince Drozdov was on the royal council," he said quietly. Sydney nodded.
"A lot of high-ranking Moroi sweep things like this under the carpet. No one wants to reveal their dirty little secrets."
I studied a photo of Claudia—a pretty girl with light brown hair, smiling slightly. She looked older, almost my age. Even though her clothes and hair were neatly styled, her eyes lacked brightness, and her skin looked tired.
"That researcher, Sara, said that Drozdov became interested in spirit magic because he hoped it could help Claudia. That was after Lara's death—Lara, who was a spirit user," I glanced at both of them, but neither had an answer. Sydney kept searching through her extensive database but ultimately found nothing.
After breakfast, we cleaned up (except for Dimitri and me, as a thank-you for cooking) and packed into the car. Dimitri had received the address from Kerem, so he was driving, and I quietly took the seat beside him. Jill sat in the row behind us, flanked by Eddie and Angeline, while Adrian and Sydney occupied the last two seats. When they realized how I had arranged everyone, Adrian shot me a warning look, to which I responded with a wide grin.
"Are you sure you're rested enough?" I asked Dimitri softly as he adjusted the mirrors. "I can drive while you nap."
Predictably, Dimitri shook his head, insisting that he felt great. I wasn't sure what kind of condition my boyfriend would have to be in for me to take the wheel. Agonizing? Or just severely wounded?
At least sitting up front gave me control over the radio before Dimitri could intervene. I found some decent music and admired the scenery (while, of course, keeping an eye out for potential threats on the road and everything). In the daylight, the forest where we were staying looked even more inviting than at night. Sunlight filtered through the green pines and the orange-golden leaves of the deciduous trees.
The others asked me how Lissa was doing, so I did my best to piece together a picture from the fragments of information I had. I left out her breakdown from the previous day, focusing on the facts.
Within half an hour, we arrived at our destination. Dimitri suggested that he and Eddie go inside the feeder's apartment with Jill and Adrian, while I stayed behind to guard the front entrance. Sydney decided to stay in the car, shooting Dimitri a murderous glare, as if she couldn't believe he had forced her to come along. She didn't realize that Dimitri was more than accustomed to—and completely immune to—those kinds of glances. I had been trying them on him since we met.
The feeder's apartment was in a drab housing block, accessible only through a narrow corridor between buildings. We parked the car, and as they entered the stairwell, I stayed by the door, keeping an eye on Sydney and anyone who might approach my friends.
Basking in the sunlight, I waited for them to finish. I understood why Dimitri wanted to spare me from witnessing my friends feeding. Sometimes, I couldn't help feeling a twinge of jealousy at the sheer, unrestrained bliss on the feeders' faces when endorphins flooded their systems… Nothing compared to that sensation. And that's why I intended to stay far away from it.
Shaking off the thought, I pinched myself to stay grounded.
At some point, the car door opened, and Sydney stepped out. She looked irritated, as if Dimitri's decision was somehow my fault too.
"Do you think this place has Wi-Fi? My satellite connection is useless here."
I shrugged. "They should have one, I guess. You can try."
Muttering under her breath, she disappeared through the door. About ten minutes later, she returned with the others.
"Everyone satisfied?" I asked with a grin. After receiving affirmative responses, we headed toward the car down a quiet alley. I grabbed Dimitri's hand, and we walked ahead, half-listening to Sydney's complaints about her terrible internet connection. Dimitri squeezed my hand as I fought not to smile.
When five men emerged from around the corner, heading toward us, my body tensed, but I had to remind myself that not everyone in our lives had bad intentions. It wasn't until I turned my head and saw two more men behind us that I started to worry. When the five in front of us stared us down and stiffened as they approached, I realized we were about to fight. At that moment, Dimitri let go of my hand and prepared for battle, which broke out a second later.
"Eddie, there are two behind you!" I shouted as one of the five lunged at me. He underestimated me as an opponent, so I quickly dodged his grasp and sent him to the ground with a strong punch to the face. Blood spurted from his nose, and I took advantage of his momentary disorientation to slam his head against the concrete wall, knocking him out. Behind me, I heard panicked voices and the sounds of fighting, but after making sure Jill was shielded from the two attackers by Eddie and Angeline, I rushed to help Dimitri. Although four attackers had jumped him, he had already taken one down and was now defending himself against the remaining three.
One of them pulled out a knife and was about to slash at my boyfriend when I landed a powerful kick, knocking him to the ground. Unfortunately for me, this guy was far more experienced than the last and recovered quickly, this time trying to carve me up. I dodged to the side, noting that Dimitri had managed to defeat another opponent, leaving us with one-on-one fights. I blocked several of the knife-wielder's attacks, but then I decided to go on the offensive. I managed to pin him against the wall, his face turned away from me, but he still managed to graze my arm. I cursed as I felt the stitches Dimitri had put in earlier give way. I pulled out my stake and aimed it at the thug's throat, uncertain whether I needed to kill him when I heard Jill scream.
I turned to her instantly and saw that one of the thugs Eddie and Angeline were supposed to handle had broken through. Angeline was on all fours, blood dripping from her mouth. Eddie was pinned to the ground by the last remaining attacker. Meanwhile, the one who had gotten through was holding a knife to Jill's throat. She was trembling with fear, her frantic eyes searching for us. Adrian and Sydney stood nearby, but with Jill in such a dangerous position, they couldn't do anything.
"Let them go, or we'll slit her throat."
The words were directed at Dimitri and me—we were the only ones holding prisoners. We glanced at each other for a second, but neither of us hesitated. We let our captives go, and they repaid us tenfold. I heard Adrian say something to the thug, but I couldn't make out what, because the man I had pinned to the wall threw me onto the concrete, making me scrape my face against it. I heard Dimitri call my name, but the sound was drowned out by the ringing in my ears. A sharp pain flared across my face, but I refused to make a sound, not wanting to give my attacker the satisfaction. He grabbed me by the hair and yanked me up, twisting my arms behind my back.
"You'll see what I can do, you little whore," he hissed. Dimitri, now on his knees, blood dripping from his brow, shifted anxiously but was also forced onto the asphalt by his tormentor. I'll make them pay. That thought alone kept me from screaming when the thug pressed Dimitri's face into the ground with his knee, and my heart cracked just a little.
Whatever Adrian had tried to do hadn't worked—he was now curled up on the floor at Jill's attacker's feet, supported by Sydney. I realized he had attempted compulsion, but for some reason, it had failed. The man holding Jill watched his victory unfold, then turned his steely gaze to Angeline, who wasn't restrained and was watching him as if waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. With blood on her chin and determined eyes, she looked like a wild animal.
"One move, and I'll kill the little one, you'll see."
Angeline glanced at me, and I shook my head. She backed off, and my attacker yanked my hair harder.
"Good choice, bitch," he sneered. I started trembling, not from fear but from the sheer effort it took to hold back my retort. The thought that I could still stand up and beat him—even at the cost of losing a handful of hair—was tempting, but I couldn't risk Jill's life.
"What do we do, boss?" asked the thug restraining Dimitri. The bastard holding my hair responded.
"I didn't expect to gather this many. I wasn't prepared for such a haul, but I suppose the more, the bigger the bonus."
What?
"I've got extra handcuffs, and they must have gotten her by this car. I bet Pretty Boy has the keys," said the thug holding Dimitri. He shoved his hands into Dimitri's duster pocket, loosening his grip slightly. Dimitri quickly glanced at Jill and, seeing her situation unchanged, looked at me. The same helplessness burned in both our eyes. He closed his eyes painfully, struggling with what to do. "Of course."
The car keys beeped, and our vehicle responded with a sound. Traitor. They cuffed us and took our stakes and knives, but when it came time to load us into the two cars, they hesitated with me and Dimitri.
"Maybe we should just get rid of them?" suggested the thug who had held Jill. "They're the most dangerous."
The sleazebag who had me in his grip yanked my hair again.
"Oh no, I'm taking this little whore with me."
"Then maybe we should at least get rid of him…"
"I'm far more dangerous!" I growled, throwing myself backward, and knocking into my captor's legs. If a little performance was enough to save Dimitri's life, I would play along. "I'll kill you all. I'm the one you should get rid of."
"That's not true," Dimitri growled. Blood dripped from his face—he looked like hell. I could hear in his voice how distressed he was, though to others it probably sounded like a feral snarl. Just based on appearance alone... I had to admit, that Dimitri looked more dangerous. Looked.
"Aww, look at the lovebirds," laughed the psycho holding my hair. Dimitri shot him a glare so full of hatred it would have frozen my blood if it were directed at me. "Maybe we can have a little fun with them."
Something twisted in my stomach as they threw us unceremoniously into separate cars. We managed to exchange one last look, praying it wouldn't be our last.