Last Sacrifice (6)

by Richelle Mead

  Dimitriʹs voice was hard and commanding when he spoke again, though his eyes werenʹt on me. They were busy scanning the sides of the road. ʺNo matter what you think of the choices everyoneʹs been making for you, no matter how unhappy you are with this situation, you know—I know you do—that Iʹve never failed you when our lives were at stake. You trusted me in the past. Trust me now.ʺ

  I wanted to tell him that what he said wasnʹt entirely true. He had failed me. When heʹd been taken down by Strigoi, when heʹd shown that he wasnʹt perfect, he had failed me by shattering the impossible, godly image I had of him. But my life? No, he had always kept mine safe. Even as a Strigoi, Iʹd never entirely been convinced he could kill me. The night the Academy had been attacked, when heʹd been turned, heʹd told me to obey him without question too. It had meant leaving him to fight Strigoi, but Iʹd done it.

  ʺOkay,ʺ I said quietly. ʺIʹll do whatever you say. Just remember not to talk down to me. Iʹm not your student anymore. Iʹm your equal now.ʺ

  He glanced away from the side of the road just long enough to give me a surprised look. ʺYouʹve always been my equal, Roza.ʺ

  The use of the affectionate Russian nickname made me too stupid to respond, but it didnʹt matter. Moments later, he was all business again. ʺThere. Do you see that movie theater sign?ʺ

  I gazed down the road. There were so many restaurants and stores that their signs made a glittering haze in the night. At last, I saw what he meant. WESTLAND CINEMA.

  ʺYes.ʺ

  ʺThatʹs where weʹre going to meet.ʺ

  We were splitting up? Iʹd wanted to part ways but not like this. In the face of danger, separating suddenly seemed like an awful idea. Iʹd promised not to argue, though, and kept listening.

  ʺIf Iʹm not there in a half hour, you call this number and go without me.ʺ Dimitri handed me a small piece of paper from his duster pocket. It had a phone number scrawled on it, not one I recognized.

  If Iʹm not there in a half hour. The words were so shocking that I couldnʹt help my protest this time. ʺWhat do you mean if youʹre not—ah!ʺ

  Dimitri made another abrupt turn, one that caused him to run a red light and only narrowly miss a number of cars. More honking ensued, but the move had been too sudden for our tail to keep up. I saw our pursuers whiz past on the main road, brake lights flashing as they searched for a place to turn around.

  Dimitri had taken us into a mall parking lot. It was packed with cars, and I glanced at the clock to get a grasp for human time. Almost eight oʹclock at night. Early in the Moroi day, prime entertainment time for humans. He drove past a few entrances to the mall and finally selected one, pulling into a handicap spot. He was out of the car in one fluid motion, with me following just as quickly.

  ʺHereʹs where we split up,ʺ he said jogging toward a set of doors. ʺMove fast, but donʹt run when weʹre inside. Donʹt attract attention. Blend in. Wind through it for a little bit; then get out through any exit but this one. Walk out near a group of humans and then head for the theater.ʺ We stepped into the mall. ʺGo!ʺ

  As though afraid I might not move, he gave me a small push toward an escalator while he took off on the main floor. There was a part of me that wanted to just freeze and stand there, that felt dumbfounded by the sudden onslaught of people, light, and activity. I soon pushed that startled part aside and began heading up the escalator. Fast reflexes and instinctual reactions were part of my training. Iʹd honed them in school, in my travels, and with him.

  Everything Iʹd been taught about eluding someone came rushing back to my head. What I wanted to do more than anything was look around and see if I had a follower, but that would have definitely attracted attention. I had to imagine that, at most, we had a couple minutesʹ lead on our pursuers. They would have had to turn around to get back to the mall and then circle to spot our car, presuming they figured out weʹd gone into the mall. I didnʹt think Harrisburg had enough of a Moroi presence to summon very many guardians on short notice. The ones they had would likely split up, some searching the mall and some guarding the entrances. This place had too many doors for the guardians to watch them all; my escape choice would be pure luck.

  I walked as fast as I reasonably could, weaving through couples, families with strollers, and giggling teens. I envied that last group. Their lives seemed so easy compared to mine. I also passed the usual mall stores, their names registering but not much more: Ann Taylor, Abercrombie, Forever 21 . . . Ahead of me, I could see the center of the mall where several corridors branched out. Iʹd have a choice to make soon.

  Passing an accessories store, I ducked inside and pretended to look at headbands. As I did, I covertly glanced back out to the mallʹs main section. I saw nothing obvious. No one had stopped; no one had followed me into the store. Beside the headbands section was a clearance bin filled with items that obviously deserved to be on clearance. One item was a ʺgirlyʺ baseball cap, hot pink with a star done in rainbow rhinestones on the front. It was god-awful.

  I bought it, grateful the guardians hadnʹt taken away the meager cash Iʹd had on me when arrested. They probably figured it wasnʹt enough to bribe anyone. I also bought a ponytail holder, all the while still keeping an eye on the storeʹs doorway. Before leaving, I bound my hair up as much as I could with the holder and then put on the hat. There was something silly about being reduced to disguises, but my hair was an easy way to ID me. It was a deep, almost-black brown, and my lack of any recent haircut had it hanging to my mid-back. In fact, between that and Dimitriʹs height, we would have made a very conspicuous pair walking through here.

  I merged back into the shoppers and soon reached the mallʹs center. Not wanting to show any hesitation, I took a left toward Macyʹs. As I walked, I felt slightly embarrassed at the hat and wished Iʹd at least had time to find a more stylish one. Minutes later, when I spotted a guardian, I was glad Iʹd made such a quick fashion choice.

  He was near one of those carts you always see in the center of malls, pretending to be interested in cell phone covers. I recognized him first because of his stance and the way he was managing to act interested in a zebra print phone cover while simultaneously searching around him. Plus, dhampirs could always distinguish each other from humans with close enough examination. For the most part, our two races appeared pretty identical, but I could spot one of my own.

  I made sure not to look right at him and felt his eyes pass over me. I didnʹt know him, which meant he probably didnʹt know me either. He was likely going off a photo heʹd seen once and expected my hair to be a big giveaway. Keeping as casual an air as I could, I moved past him at a leisurely pace, glancing in windows that kept my back to him but sent no obvious messages that I was on the run. All the while, my heart pounded in my chest. Guardians could kill me on sight. Did that apply to the middle of a mall? I didnʹt want to find out.

  When I was clear of the cart, I picked up my pace a little. Macyʹs would have its own outside door, and now it was just a gamble to see whether or not Iʹd made a good call coming in this direction. I entered the store, went down its escalator, and headed toward the main floor exit—passing a very nice selection of cute berets and fedoras. I paused near them, not because I planned on upgrading my hat, but because it allowed me to fall in step just behind a group of girls who were also exiting.

  We left the store together, and my eyes quickly adjusted to the change in light. There were lots of people around, but I again saw nothing threatening. My girls stopped to chat, giving me an opportunity to get my bearings without appearing totally lost. To my right, I spotted the busy road Dimitri and I had come in on, and from there, I knew how to get to the movie theater. I exhaled in relief and cut across the parking lot, still watching my surroundings.

  The farther I walked from the mall, the less crowded the parking lot became. Lampposts kept it from being totally dark, but there was still an eerie feel as things grew quieter and quieter. My initial impulse was to head right for the road and take the sidewalk directly to the thea
ter. It was well lit and had people. But a moment later, I decided it was too conspicuous. I was pretty sure I could cut across parking lots much more quickly to get to the theater.

  It proved true—kind of. I had the theater in sight when I realized I had been followed after all. Not far ahead of me, the shadow of a parking lampʹs post didnʹt cast correctly. The shadow was too broad. Someone was behind the pole. I doubted a guardian had coincidentally picked this spot in the hopes Dimitri or I would come by. Most likely it was a scout whoʹd seen me and circled ahead for an ambush.

  I kept walking, trying not to obviously slow down, though every muscle in my body was tensing for attack. I had to be the one who attacked first. I had to be in control.

  My moment came, seconds before I suspected my ambusher would have made his move. I leapt out, throwing him—it turned out to be a dhampir I didnʹt recognize—against a nearby car. Yup. Iʹd surprised him. Of course, the surprise was mutual when the carʹs alarm went off, blaring into the night. I winced, trying to ignore the shrieking as I punched my captive on the left side of his jaw. I had to make the most of having him pinned.

  The force of my fist knocked his head against the car, but he took it admirably, promptly pushing back in an effort to free himself. He was stronger, and I did stumble a little, but not enough to lose my balance. What I lacked in strength, I made up for in speed. I dodged each attempt at me, but it brought me little satisfaction. That stupid car alarm was still going strong, and it was eventually going to attract the attention of other guardians or human authorities.

  I dashed around the side of the car, and he gave chase, stopping when we were on opposite sides. It was like two kids playing keep-away. We mirrored each other as he tried to anticipate which direction Iʹd go. In the dim lighting, I saw something surprising tucked into his belt: a gun. My blood ran cold. Guardians were trained to use guns but rarely carried them. Stakes were our weapon of choice. We were in the business of killing Strigoi, after all, and guns were ineffective. But against me? Yeah. A gun simplified his job, but I had a feeling heʹd hesitate to use it. A car alarm could be blamed on someone accidentally getting too close, but a gunshot? That would elicit a call to the police. This guy wouldnʹt fire if he could help it—but he would if he ran out of options. This needed to end soon.

  At last I made a move toward the front of the car. He tried to intercept me, but then I surprised him by springing onto the carʹs hood (because honestly, at this point, it wasnʹt like the alarm could get any louder). In my split second of advantage, I threw myself off the car and onto him, knocking him flat to the ground. I landed on top of his stomach and held him down with all my weight while my hands went around his neck. He struggled, trying to throw me off, and nearly succeeded. At last, the lack of air won out. He stopped moving and fell into unconsciousness. I let go.

  For a brief moment, I had a flashback to our escape from Court, when Iʹd used the same technique on Meredith. I saw her lying on the ground all over again and felt that same pang of guilt. Then, I shook it off. Meredith was okay. Meredith wasnʹt even here. None of that mattered. All that mattered was that this guy was out of commission, and I had to get out of here. Now.

  Without looking to see if others were coming, I tore off across the parking lot toward the theater. I stopped once I had some distance between me and the wailing car, using another car as cover. I saw no one near the guy yet, but over by the parking lotʹs front, close to the mall, there seemed to be some activity. I didnʹt stick around to get a closer look. Whatever it was, it couldnʹt be good for me.

  I reached the theater a couple minutes later, breathless more from fear than exhaustion. Running endurance was something I had built up a lot of, thanks to Dimitri. But where was Dimitri? Theatergoers mingled around, some giving my disheveled state an odd look, as they either waited for tickets or discussed what movie theyʹd just seen. I saw no sign of Dimitri anywhere.

  I had no watch. How long had passed since weʹd parted? Surely not a half hour. I walked around the theater, staying obscured in the crowd, searching for any indication of Dimitri or more pursuers. Nothing. Minutes ticked by. Uneasily, I reached into my pocket and touched the piece of paper with the phone number. Leave, heʹd told me. Leave and call the number. Of course, I had no cell phone, but that was the least of my problems right now—

  ʺRose!ʺ

  A car pulled up at the curb where others were dropping people off. Dimitri was leaning out the driverʹs side window, and I nearly fell over in relief. Well, okay, not nearly. In reality, I didnʹt waste a moment in hurrying over to him and hopping into the passenger seat. Without a word, he hit the gas and got us away from the theater and back to the main road.

  We said nothing at first. He was so wound up and on edge, it seemed the slightest provocation would make him snap in half. He drove as fast as he could without attracting police attention, all the while glancing into the rearview mirror.

  ʺIs there anyone behind us?ʺ I asked at last, as he drove back onto the highway.

  ʺIt doesnʹt look like it. Itʹll take them a while to figure out what car weʹre in.ʺ

  I hadnʹt paid much attention when Iʹd entered, but we were in a Honda Accord—another ordinary-looking car. I also noticed that there was no key in the ignition.

  ʺDid you hotwire this car?ʺ I then rephrased my question. ʺDid you steal this car?ʺ

  ʺYou have an interesting set of morals,ʺ he observed. ʺBreaking out of jail is okay. But steal a car, and you sound totally outraged.ʺ

  ʺI′m just more surprised than outraged,ʺ I said, leaning back against the seat. I sighed. ʺI was afraid . . . well, for a moment there, I was afraid you werenʹt coming. That theyʹd caught you or something.ʺ

  ʺNo. Most of my time was spent sneaking out and finding a suitable car.ʺ

  A few minutes of silence fell. ʺYou didnʹt ask what happened to me,ʺ I pointed out, a little miffed.

  ʺDonʹt need to. Youʹre here. Thatʹs what counts.ʺ

  ʺI got in a fight.ʺ

  ʺI can tell. Your sleeve is ripped.ʺ

  I glanced down. Yup, ripped. Iʹd also lost the hat in my mad dash. No big loss. ʺDonʹt you want to know anything about the fight?ʺ

  His eyes stayed on the road ahead of us. ʺI already know. You took down your enemy. You did it fast, and you did it well. Because youʹre just that good.ʺ

  I pondered his words for a moment. They were matter-of-fact, all business . . . and yet, his statement brought a tiny smile to my lips. ʺOkay. So what now, General? Donʹt you think theyʹll scan reports of stolen cars and get our license plate number?ʺ

  ʺLikely. But by then, weʹll have a new car—one they wonʹt have any clue about.ʺ

  I frowned. ʺHow are you pulling that off?ʺ

  ʺWeʹre meeting someone in a few hours.ʺ

  ʺDamn it. I really hate being the last one to know about everything.ʺ

  ‘A few hoursʹ put us in Roanoke, Virginia. Most of our drive had passed uneventfully up until that point. But as the city came into view, I noticed Dimitri watching the exit signs until he found the one he wanted. Turning off the interstate, he continued checking for a tail and found none. We reached another commerce-filled road, and he drove to a McDonaldʹs that stood out clearly from the rest of the businesses.

  ʺI donʹt suppose,ʺ I said, ʺthat this is a food break?ʺ

  ʺThis,ʺ he responded, ʺis where we catch our next ride.ʺ

  He drove around the restaurantʹs parking lot, his eyes scanning for something, though I didnʹt initially know what. I spotted it a fraction of a second before he did. In the far corner of the lot, I saw a woman leaning against a tan SUV, her back to us. I couldnʹt see much of her except that she wore a dark shirt and had tousled blond hair that almost touched her shoulders.

  Dimitri pulled into the spot next to her vehicle, and I was out of ours the second he hit the brake. I recognized her before she even turned around.

  ʺSydney?ʺ The name came out as a question, though I knew for sure it
was her.

  Her head turned, and I saw a familiar face—a human face—with brown eyes that could turn amber in the sun and a faint gold tattoo on her cheek.

  ʺHey, Rose,ʺ she said, a rueful smile playing on her lips. She held up a McDonaldʹs bag. ʺFigured youʹd be hungry.ʺ

  SIX

  REALLY, WHEN YOU THOUGHT ABOUT it, Sydney showing up wasnʹt much weirder than half the other stuff that seemed to happen to me on a regular basis. Sydney was an Alchemist, one Iʹd met in Russia when trying to find and kill Dimitri. She was my age and had hated being assigned over there, though Iʹd certainly appreciated her aid. As Dimitri had noted earlier, the Alchemists would want to help the Moroi find and capture me. Yet, judging from the tension radiating off both her and Dimitri in the car, it became obvious that she was assisting in this escape.

  With great effort, I pushed my questions to the side for the time being. We were still fugitives, still undoubtedly being pursued. Sydneyʹs car was a brand new Honda CR-V with Louisiana plates and a rental sticker.

  ʺWhat the hell?ʺ I asked. ʺIs this daring escape being sponsored by Honda?ʺ When this got no response, I went to the next obvious question. ʺAre we going to New Orleans?ʺ That was Sydneyʹs new post. Sightseeing was the last thing on my mind at the moment, but if you had to run away, you might as well run somewhere good.

  ʺNo,ʺ she said, backing out of the spot. ʺWeʹre going to West Virginia.ʺ

  I looked sharply at Dimitri, who sat in the backseat, in the hopes that he would deny this. He didnʹt.

  ʺI assume by ‘West Virginia,ʹ you actually mean ‘Hawaii,ʹʺ I said. ʺOr some place equally exciting.ʺ

  ʺHonestly, I think youʹre better off avoiding excitement right now,ʺ Sydney pointed out. The carʹs GPS device directed her to her next turn, leading us back toward I-81. She frowned slightly. ʺAnd West Virginiaʹs actually really pretty.ʺ

  I remembered that she was from Utah and probably didnʹt know any better. Having long since given up on any control in this escape plot, I moved on to the next obvious set of questions.