Vampire Academy: The Untold Stories

by Richelle Mead

  I wondered if he might be able to stage some fantastic distraction so that I could run out the front door. Maybe he could undo a few buttons of the vest? That would certainly distract me, let alone someone with an obvious vest fetish. But no. I was no damsel in distress. I’d gotten myself into this. I’d find my own way out.

  I stripped the cat sheets off Kirova’s bed and located an extra set in the closet. Quickly, I tied them together and created a rope of sorts with knots to serve as handholds. I shot back to the doorway and waved my ingenious creation at Dimitri so that he’d know everything was cool, and then I tied one end to the leg of her bed. A tug showed me it wouldn’t go anywhere. Having learned from my earlier mistakes, I locked the calico in the closet before I opened the window. I tossed the sheet-rope down the side of the building and watched as it ended about halfway down the second floor.

  Okay, everything wasn’t exactly cool. But I could manage. I might not land gracefully on my feet, but this building didn’t have high ceilings. I scaled down easily and was at the second floor when a stern voice below shouted, “Hey, what are you doing?”

  I recognized Guardian Kier’s voice. I didn’t dare turn around and risk being identified. I nearly started climbing back up when I realized the screen in the window my feet rested on didn’t have any glass behind it, just a screen. Who’d keep a window open in October? The smell of detergent hit me, and I realized I was right next to the laundry room. I climbed back up a little and then swung inward with as much force as I could manage. My feet ripped through the screen, and I tumbled onto the tiled floor.

  I could hear more shouts outside and knew it was only a matter of time before guardians searched the building. I burst out of the laundry room and stared at the corridor before me. It had the same layout as Lissa’s dorm, four intersecting halls with an elevator in the middle and staircases in the front and back wings. The back seemed safest. I raced to it and flew down the stairs, only to hear footsteps behind me. I started leaping over sets of three and four steps and then heard, “Rose?”

  I spun around and saw Dimitri descending. “No time to talk, comrade.”

  “I thought you climbed out the window. I was going around to meet you.”

  “Kier’s out there. I had to adjust. Also, the laundry room’s screen is going to need replacing.”

  He groaned. “Come on, this way.”

  We ran down a perpendicular hallway. It was one of the ones without stairs at the end, but there was a window on the upper half of the wall. “I can fit, but you’ll have to lift me.”

  “I know,” he said. “The holly bush where I put the gloves and CD is right below. Hopefully you can grab them and go.”

  “More rule breaking. Tonight must be a record for you.”

  “I’ve done worse.”

  I hoped my shocked silence properly conveyed my thoughts.

  “You’re running out of time, Rose.”

  He held out his hands and hoisted me up, holding me by the legs. I unlatched the window and shoved it open.

  “You know, I’m becoming an expert at getting in and out of—”

  My hands slipped on the window frame, in turn making me lose my balance. I fell over and down, but he caught me by the waist and held on to me. I instinctively put my arms around his neck, pressing us together. I expected him to push me away, but he didn’t. Just like in the corridor, he clung to the moment. Something in his eyes softened as he looked down at me with an expression that held neither exasperation nor amusement. His gaze smoldered. It hungered. It wrapped me up as fiercely as his arms did, and I became very, very aware of just how tight and thin my clothes were.

  The embrace lasted only for the space of a few heartbeats, but for Dimitri—who lived for duty and discipline—that delay was an eternity. The nerves of my body buzzed with electricity, and I marveled at the odds of being able to touch him so many times tonight. Maybe the universe thought it owed me a favor too.

  Dimitri ran a hand over my hair, smoothing wayward locks, and then snatched it away when we heard the distant sound of shouting from the building’s lobby. Nope. The universe hated me.

  Without another word, he raised me up again. I gripped the window’s edge and pulled myself out, going headfirst. I was glad no one was around to see my fantastically awful spill on the ground below, made even worse by the aforementioned holly bush. Prickly leaves and branches tore into me, and it took a lot of self-control not to yell out some very unladylike words, many of which would concern Christian and bacon truffles. I saw several long, dark brown strands of something hanging on the bush’s branches and then realized that “something” was my hair. Staggering up, I dusted myself off and retrieved the items Dimitri had concealed.

  What time was it? Closer to the scavenger hunt’s finish than I would have liked. In the distance, I could still see the lights of the carnival, but Dagger Fang’s bad covers had finally ended. Enough students moved out and about now that I could walk calmly, so long as I kept the boxing gloves close to me. As soon as I made it to the woods beyond central campus, I went tearing off through the trees. Low-hanging branches whipped me as I passed, but I was too full of adrenaline and purpose to care. If I’d impersonated a teacher, crawled through multiple windows, and touched that atrocious cologne all for nothing, I was going to be seriously pissed.

  A small light shone ahead of me, and I skidded to a halt. A cluster of people stood around Camille, Otto, and the rest of this year’s hunt committee. “Did I make it?” I exclaimed, setting the boxing gloves and CD on the ground. The other waiting teams crowded closer.

  Camille actually had a stopwatch. “With a minute to spare.”

  My partners in crime pushed their way over to me. “God, Rose,” exclaimed Mason. “What happened to you? Did you get in a fight with a tree while getting that CD?”

  “We thought for sure you’d been caught,” Eddie added.

  I rubbed at a scratch on my face and winced. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  Otto was managing the tally now and took stock of my offerings. “Close, but not close enough. A respectable second.”

  Shane whooped in triumph, but I held up a hand to silence him. “Don’t get too cocky yet, Reyes.”

  I reached into my pocket and held out the earrings with a flourish. A collective gasp sounded around me. Shane leaned forward. “No way those are real.”

  Otto snorted as he took the earrings from me. “You think there’s anything else like that in this school? Congrats, Rose. That pushed you over the top.”

  I patted Shane’s back. His teammates, Andy and Charlene, were still in shock. “Don’t worry,” I said. “You’ll still get some wine for second. I mean, not as much as us, obviously. You can’t half-ass your way through something like this and expect success.”

  “Half-ass?” exclaimed Andy. “I broke into the guardian building by hiding in a garbage can!”

  I faked a yawn.

  Meanwhile, Eddie and Mason regarded me with rightful worship and awe. “I need to hear this story. I’ll never doubt your edge again,” Mason declared.

  “I never doubted it at all,” said Eddie.

  “We’ll get everyone’s prizes to you tomorrow,” Camille said. “Now we’ve got to go smuggle this stuff back. We’re going to leave it in a pile in the cafeteria.”

  “Be careful with those earrings,” I warned. “No matter how much you think Kirova likes cats, I assure you, you are completely underestimating it.”

  “I really need to hear this story,” Mason told me.

  “I can’t give away my secrets.” Or fact that I’d had outside help—help from one of the very people who were supposed to be stopping us. The memory of being pressed against Dimitri’s body flashed through my mind, and I had to shove it aside. Slinging my arms around my teammates, I steered us back toward the main campus. “Let’s go see if there’s any cotton candy left.”

  There was. I snagged a bag of it, plus a soft pretzel, and sat down on a bench to watch the
carnival wind down. Some of the games had already closed, and Alberta had stopped cooking funnel cake. It was a good thing I’d gotten mine earlier. Eddie and Mason had wandered off, and I used my moment of tranquility to ponder the night’s events, everything from my daring break-ins to those precious moments in Dimitri’s arms.

  “Are you okay?”

  I glanced up and saw Lissa. She looked as serenely perfect as she had earlier in the night, not one platinum hair out of place.

  “Great. Why?”

  She crouched down and picked a leaf from my hair. “You’re a mess, and you’ve got scratches on your face.”

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s a warrior’s mark of honor for a job well done.”

  Lissa gasped. “Do you mean …”

  “Yes. You ask, I deliver. The universe loves Christian after all. Who knew?”

  “Oh, thank you!” The joy that radiated off her nearly knocked me over as much as her giant hug did. “You’re the best. You know that, right? It doesn’t matter what it is, what I need. You’re always there for me.”

  Maybe it was exhaustion, but I couldn’t come up with a snarky comeback. I gave her another tight hug and said, “And I always will be.”

  Still beaming, she straightened up. “I’ve got to get back to the lower campus and help with cleanup. I just wanted to check while Christian was busy. Thank you again, Rose. Oh, hey, Mason. Thanks for your help too.”

  As she walked away, Mason jogged over to me. He took my hand and pulled me up. “Come see this. You won’t even believe it.”

  Mystified, I followed him back toward the funnel cake cart. Across from it, a group of students stood near the tent where we’d had our pictures taken. Mrs. Alders waved when she saw me. “There you are. Come over here and get your prize.”

  A few kids parted for me, and I approached uncertainly. “Prize for what?”

  “For the costume contest. You got an honorable mention. It’s very clever, you know.” She pointed at my shirt. “My favorite one is Louis Armstrong. I love his music.”

  “Oh,” I said, still stunned. “I thought he was an astronaut.”

  She started to show me a large cardboard box when her eyes shifted toward the crowd. “Oh. Did you give one of these to Guardian Belikov?”

  I followed her gaze. Dimitri stood near the edge of the crowd, stone-faced as usual, and not at all like he’d taken part in tonight’s mayhem. Mrs. Alders’s question did make him raise an eyebrow, though. He looked down, and sure enough, a HELLO, MY NAME IS … sticker was stuck to his coat. I immediately checked my own outfit and saw an empty spot on the side of my stomach. It must have transferred over when he was either lifting me or holding me. We’d been pressed together more than I realized.

  My mouth went dry, but Dimitri didn’t miss a beat. He peeled the sticker off and repositioned it higher up on his coat. “Yes, she gave it to me earlier. She knows what a fan I am of Judy Blume.” He glanced at me, amusement flashing in his dark eyes, and then melted back into the crowd.

  I pulled off the Louis Armstrong tag and gave it to Mrs. Alders. “Yeah. And you can have this.”

  She accepted it with a smile and then tipped the box toward me. “We’ve gathered all sorts of goodies. Some were picked out especially by teachers. Some were even student donations. Go ahead and choose whichever one you want.”

  Curious, I peered inside at the assortment of sweets and treats. And then I started laughing.

  The violation of Kirova’s room resulted in another school-wide assembly about the sanctity of our rules, something I found pretty hypocritical in light of her illegal feline friend. But I kept that secret to myself and tried to appear solemn as she waxed on about “the group of miscreants” who had conspired to rob her. Kier hadn’t been able to identify me on the wall, and I felt pretty smug about my escapades being mistaken for the work of a group.

  “Don’t feel that smug,” Dimitri told me after one of our early runs. “The scavenger hunt went too far. The campus will probably be on lockdown next year.”

  I shrugged as we walked into the locker room. “They haven’t been able to stop us before. What makes you think they can now?”

  He shot me a wry smile. “Because they—we—haven’t been trying as hard as we could. Sure, no one approves of all the theft and trespassing, and if you’re caught, you’re punished. But … there’s always been an understanding among the guardians that trying to do the impossible is good for you—the novices, at least. Stealth and problem solving aren’t bad qualities, given the jobs you’ll face in the real world. Kirova doesn’t feel the same about the Moroi, and after this … Well, like I said, some of the methods we’ve held back on aren’t going to be held back anymore. Expect a lock change right before the carnival next year. And more patrols.”

  “It’ll be the end of an era.” I pulled my duffel bag out from a locker. “But I guess it means I’ll just go down in history yet again.”

  “Another reason why you don’t want to be anyone except Rose Hathaway, huh?”

  I sat down on a bench and folded my hands in my lap as I looked away. “I know I said that … but sometimes … Well. Sometimes, I wish I could steal another identity. Someone older. Someone who isn’t guarding the same Moroi who … who other people are guarding.”

  Dimitri stayed silent for a long time—so much so that I finally had to glance over at him, despite my self-consciousness. For the most part, he had on his usual cool and collected expression. But in his eyes—there it was. A flash of that warmth I saw from time to time, the warmth that made the spark that perpetually burned within me for him blaze a little brighter. There was more than heat in his gaze, though. There was wistfulness too.

  “Someone like that … would make a few things easier,” he said at last, his voice low. Strained. “But someone like that wouldn’t be Rose Hathaway. And I’d rather live in a much more complicated world than in one where she wasn’t around.”

  I had to avert my gaze again because if I kept looking at him, I was either going to cry or try to kiss him. I cleared my throat and said, “Well, lucky you, because here I am, so your world’s about as complicated as it can get. But it might also get a little more delicious.” I unzipped the duffel bag and dared a peek back at him. A little of that tenderness lingered in his gaze, and then he smiled and shifted back to his exasperated-mentor mode.

  “Oh?”

  “Ta-da.” I lifted a small gold-and-blue box from the bag. “Haberlin’s dark chocolate bacon truffles.”

  His laugh, full of genuine surprise, made me as happy as that earlier look had. “Aren’t those Christian’s?”

  “No, Lissa has those. This is my own box. Camille gave one to Mrs. Alders too, and it ended up in the prize bin. Here. Have one.” I lifted the lid and held out the box.

  He glanced down at it and then back up at me. “Rose … if I didn’t know better, I’d say you broke down and tried these.”

  “Quality control,” I said.

  “There are only two left. Out of twelve.”

  “Lots of quality control.” I picked one up. “And I’m giving the last one to you, comrade. You should be flattered. Because even if it’s complicated, I hope you realize there are perks to having Rose Hathaway in your life.”

  His smile grew as he picked up the chocolate. “Oh, I do, Roza. I do.”

  Chapter 1

  My sister is in trouble, and I have only minutes to help her.

  She doesn’t see it. She’s having difficulty seeing a lot of things lately, and that’s the problem.

  Your brushstrokes are off, I sign to her. The lines are crooked, and you’ve misjudged some of the hues.

  Zhang Jing steps back from her canvas. Surprise lights her features for only a moment before despair sets in. This isn’t the first time these mistakes have happened. A nagging instinct tells me it won’t be the last. I make a small gesture, urging her to hand me her brush and paints. She hesitates and glances around the workroom to make sure none of our peers is watchi
ng. They’re all deeply engrossed in their own canvases, spurred on by the knowledge that our masters will arrive at any moment to evaluate our work. Their sense of urgency is nearly palpable. I beckon again, more insistently this time, and Zhang Jing yields her tools, stepping away to let me work.

  Quick as lightning, I begin going over her canvas, repairing her imperfections. I smooth out the unsteady brushstrokes, thicken lines that are too thin, and use sand to blot out places where the ink fell too heavily. This calligraphy consumes me, just as art always does. I lose track of the world around me and don’t even really notice what her work says. It’s only when I finish and step back to check my progress that I take in the news she was recording.

  Death. Starvation. Blindness.

  Another grim day in our village.

  I can’t focus on that right now, not with our masters about to walk in. Thank you, Fei, Zhang Jing signs to me before taking her tools back. I give a quick nod and then hurry over to my own canvas across the room, just as a rumbling in the floor signifies the entrance of the elders. I take a deep breath, grateful that I have once again saved Zhang Jing from getting into trouble. With that relief comes a terrible knowledge that I can no longer deny: My sister’s sight is fading. Our village came to terms with silence when our ancestors lost their hearing generations ago for unknown reasons, but being plunged into darkness? That’s a fate that scares us all.

  I must push those thoughts from my mind and put on a calm face as my master comes strolling down the rows of canvas. There are six elders in the village, and each one oversees at least two apprentices. In most cases, each elder knows who his or her replacement will be—but with the way accidents and sickness happen around here, training a backup is a necessary precaution. Some apprentices are still competing to be their elder’s replacement, but I have no worries about my position.

  Elder Chen comes to me now, and I bow low. His dark eyes, sharp and alert despite his advanced years, look past me to the painting. He wears light blue like the rest of us, but the robe he has on over his pants is longer than the apprentices’. It nearly reaches his ankles and is trimmed in purple silk thread. I always study that embroidery while he’s doing his inspections, and I never grow tired of it. There’s very little color in our daily lives, and that silk thread is one bright, precious spot. Fabric of any kind is a luxury here, where my people struggle daily simply to get food. Studying Elder Chen’s purple thread now, I think of the old stories about kings and nobles who dressed in silk from head to toe. The image dazzles me for a moment, transporting me beyond this workroom until I blink and reluctantly return my focus back to my work.