Last Sacrifice (6)

by Richelle Mead

  When late afternoon came for the rest of the world, I heard stirring inside the house. I gently touched Dimitriʹs shoulder, and he jerked awake instantly.

  ʺEasy,ʺ I said, unable to hide a smile. ʺJust a wakeup call. Sounds like our redneck friends are getting up.ʺ

  This time, our voices woke Sydney. She rolled over toward us, her eyes squinting at the light coming through the badly screened window. ʺWhat time is it?ʺ she asked, stretching her limbs.

  ʺNot sure.ʺ I had no watch. ʺProbably past midday. Three? Four?ʺ

  She sat up almost as quickly as Dimitri had. ʺIn the afternoon? ʺ The sunlight gave her the answer. ʺDamn you guys and your unholy schedule.ʺ

  ʺDid you just say ‘damnʹ? Isnʹt that against Alchemist rules?ʺ I teased.

  ʺSometimes itʹs necessary.ʺ She rubbed her eyes and glanced toward the door. The faint noises Iʹd heard in the rest of the house were louder now, audible even to her ears. ʺI guess we need a plan.ʺ

  ʺWe have one,ʺ I said. ʺFind Lissaʹs sibling.ʺ

  ʺI never entirely agreed to that,ʺ she reminded me. ʺAnd you guys keep thinking I can just magically type away like some movie hacker to find all your answers.ʺ

  ʺWell, at least itʹs a place to—ʺ A thought occurred to me, one that could seriously mess things up. ʺCrap. Your laptop wonʹt even work out here.ʺ

  ʺItʹs got a satellite modem, but itʹs the battery we have to worry about.ʺ Sydney sighed and stood up, smoothing her rumpled clothes with dismay. ʺI need a coffee shop or something.ʺ

  ʺI think I saw one in a cave down the road,ʺ I said.

  That almost got a smile from her. ʺThereʹs got to be some town close by where I could use my laptop.ʺ

  ʺBut itʹs probably not a good idea to take the car out anywhere in this state,ʺ said Dimitri. ʺJust in case someone at the motel got your license plate number.ʺ

  ʺI know,ʺ she said grimly. ʺI was thinking about that too.ʺ

  Our brilliant scheming was interrupted by a knock at the door. Without waiting for an answer, Sarah stuck her head inside and smiled. ʺOh, good. Youʹre all awake. Weʹre getting breakfast ready if you want to join us.ʺ

  Through the doorway, scents of what seemed like a normal breakfast drifted in: bacon, eggs . . . The bread had gotten me through the night, but I was ready for real food and willing to roll the dice on whatever Raymondʹs family had to offer.

  In the houseʹs main section, we found a flurry of domestic activity. Raymond appeared to be cooking something over the fireplace while Paulette set the long table. It already had a platter of perfectly ordinary scrambled eggs and more slices of yesterdayʹs bread. Raymond rose from the fireplace, holding a large metal sheet covered in crisp bacon. A smile split his bearded face when he spotted us. The more of these Keepers I saw, the more I kept noticing something. They made no attempts to hide their fangs. From childhood, my Moroi were taught to smile and speak in a way that minimized fang exposure, in case they were out in human cities. There was nothing like that here.

  ʺGood morning,ʺ said Raymond, carefully pushing the bacon onto another platter on the table. ʺI hope youʹre all hungry.ʺ

  ʺDo you think thatʹs, like, real bacon?ʺ I whispered to Sydney and Dimitri. ʺAnd not like squirrel or something?ʺ

  ʺLooks real to me,ʺ said Dimitri.

  ʺIʹd say so too,ʺ said Sydney. ʺThough, I guarantee itʹs from their own pigs and not a grocery store.ʺ

  Dimitri laughed at whatever expression crossed my face. ʺI always love seeing what worries you. Strigoi? No. Questionable food? Yes.ʺ

  ʺWhat about Strigoi?ʺ

  Joshua and Angeline entered the house. He had a bowl of blackberries, and she was pushing the little kids along. From their squirming and dirty faces, they clearly wanted to go back outside. It was Angeline who had asked the question.

  Dimitri covered for my squeamishness. ʺJust talking about some of Roseʹs Strigoi kills.ʺ

  Joshua came to a standstill and stared at me, those pretty blue eyes wide with amazement. ʺYouʹve killed the Lost? Er—Strigoi?ʺ I admired his attempt to use ʺourʺ term. ʺHow many?ʺ

  I shrugged. ʺI donʹt really know anymore.ʺ

  ʺDonʹt you use the marks?ʺ Raymond scolded. ʺI didnʹt think the Tainted had abandoned those.ʺ

  ʺThe marks—oh. Yeah. Our tattoos? We do.ʺ I turned around and lifted up my hair. I heard a scuffling of feet and then felt a finger touching my skin. I flinched and whipped back around, just in time to see Joshua lowering his hand sheepishly.

  ʺSorry,ʺ he said. ʺIʹve just never seen some of these. Only the molnija marks. Thatʹs how we count our Strigoi kills. Youʹve got . . . a lot.ʺ

  ʺThe S-shaped mark is unique to them,ʺ said Raymond disapprovingly. That look was quickly replaced by admiration. ʺThe otherʹs the zvezda.ʺ

  This earned gasps from Joshua and Angeline and a ʺWhat?ʺ from me.

  ʺThe battle mark,ʺ said Dimitri. ʺNot many people call it zvezda anymore. It means ‘star.ʹʺ

  ʺHuh. Makes sense,ʺ I said. The tattoo was, in fact, kind of shaped like a star and was given when someone had fought in a big enough battle to lose count of Strigoi kills. After all, there were only so many molnija marks you could cram on your neck.

  Joshua smiled at me in a way that made my stomach flutter just a little. Maybe he was part of a pseudo-Amish cult, but that didnʹt change the fact that he was still good-looking. ʺNow I understand how you could have killed the Tainted queen.ʺ

  ʺItʹs probably fake,ʺ said Angeline.

  Iʹd been about to protest the queen-killing part, but her comment derailed me. ʺIt is not! I earned it when Strigoi attacked our school. And then there were plenty more I took down after that.ʺ

  ʺThe mark canʹt be that uncommon,ʺ said Dimitri. ʺYour people must have big Strigoi fights every once in a while.ʺ

  ʺNot really,ʺ said Joshua, his eyes still on me. ʺMost of us have never fought or even seen the Lost. They donʹt really bother us.ʺ

  That was surprising. If ever there was a Strigoi target, a group of Moroi, dhampirs, and humans out in the middle of nowhere would be it. ʺWhy not?ʺ I asked.

  Raymond winked at me. ʺBecause we fight back.ʺ

  I pondered his enigmatic statement as the family sat down to eat. Again, I thought about the entire communityʹs willingness to fight when weʹd first arrived. Was it really enough to scare off Strigoi? Not much scared them, but maybe certain things were too much of an inconvenience to deal with. I wondered what Dimitriʹs opinion would be on that. His own family had come from a community that separated itself somewhat from mainstream Moroi life, but it was nothing like this.

  All of this spun in my mind while we ate and talked. The Keepers still had a lot more questions about us and Tatiana. The only one not participating was Angeline. She ate as little as Sydney and kept watching me with a scowl.

  ʺWe need some supplies,ʺ said Sydney abruptly, interrupting me in the middle of a gruesome story. I didnʹt mind, but the others looked disappointed. ʺWhereʹs the nearest town that would have a coffee shop . . . or any restaurant?ʺ

  ʺWell,ʺ said Paulette. ʺRubysville is a little over an hour north. But we have plenty of food here for you.ʺ

  ʺIt′s not about food,ʺ I said quickly. ʺYours has been great.ʺ I glanced at Sydney. ʺAn hourʹs not so bad, right?ʺ

  She nodded and then glanced hesitantly at Raymond. ʺIs there any way . . . is there any way we could borrow a car? I′ll . . .ʺ The next words clearly caused her pain. ʺIʹll leave the keys to mine until we get back.ʺ

  He arched an eyebrow. ʺYouʹve got a nice car.ʺ

  Sydney shrugged. ʺThe less we drive it around here, the better.ʺ

  He told us we could take his truck and that he ʺprobablyʺ wouldnʹt even need to use the CR-V. Sydney gave him a tight smile of thanks, but I knew images of vampires joyriding in her car were dancing through her head.

  We set out soon after that, wanting to be back before the sun went down. People were out a
nd about in the commune, doing chores or whatever else it was they did with their lives. A group of children sat around a dhampir reading a book to them, making me wonder what sort of education process they had here.

  All of the Keepers stopped whatever they were doing as we passed, giving us either curious looks or outright smiles. I smiled back occasionally but mostly kept my eyes ahead. Joshua was escorting us back to the ʺparking lotʺ and managed to walk beside me when we reached the narrow path.

  ʺI hope you wonʹt be gone long,ʺ he said. ʺIʹd wanted us to talk more.ʺ

  ʺSure,ʺ I said. ʺThatʹd be fun.ʺ

  He brightened and chivalrously pushed aside a low-hanging branch. ʺMaybe I can show you my cave.ʺ

  ʺYour—wait. What? Donʹt you live with your dad?ʺ

  ʺFor now. But Iʹm getting my own place.ʺ There was pride in his voice. ʺItʹs not as big as his, of course, but itʹs a good start. Itʹs almost cleaned out.ʺ

  ʺThatʹs really, um, great. Definitely show me when weʹre back.ʺ The words came easily to my lips, but my mind was pondering the fact that Raymondʹs house was apparently ʺbig.ʺ

  Joshua parted ways from us when we reached Raymondʹs truck, a big red pickup with a seat that could just barely hold the three of us. Considering the Keepers didnʹt leave the woods much, the truck seemed like it had seen a lot of miles. Or maybe just a lot of years of disuse.

  ʺYou shouldnʹt lead him on like that,ʺ Dimitri said, when weʹd been on the road for about ten minutes. Surprisingly, Sydney had let him drive. I guessed she figured a manly truck deserved a manly driver.

  Now that we were moving, my mind had focused back on the task at hand: finding the other Dragomir. ʺHuh?ʺ

  ʺJoshua. You were flirting with him.ʺ

  ʺI was not! We were just talking.ʺ

  ʺArenʹt you with Adrian?ʺ

  ʺYes!ʺ I exclaimed, glaring at Dimitri. His eyes were fixed on the road. ʺAnd thatʹs why I wasnʹt flirting. How can you read so much into that? Joshua doesnʹt even like me that way.ʺ

  ʺActually,ʺ said Sydney, sitting between us, ʺhe does.ʺ

  I turned my incredulity on her. ʺHow do you know? Did he pass you a note in class or something?ʺ

  She rolled her eyes. ʺNo. But you and Dimitri are like gods back at camp.ʺ

  ʺWeʹre outsiders,ʺ I reminded her. ʺTainted.ʺ

  ʺNo. Youʹre renegade Strigoi – and queen-killers. It might have all been southern charm and hospitality back there, but those people can be savage. They put a big premium on being able to beat people up. And, considering how scruffy most of them are, you guys are . . . well . . . letʹs just say you two are the hottest things to walk through there in a while.ʺ

  ʺYouʹre not hot?ʺ I asked.

  ʺItʹs irrelevant,ʺ she said, flustered by the comment. ʺAlchemists arenʹt even on their radar. We donʹt fight. They think weʹre weak.ʺ

  I thought back to the enraptured faces and had to admit that a lot of the people there did have a weathered, worn-out look. Almost. ʺRaymondʹs family was pretty good-looking,ʺ I pointed out. I heard a grunt from Dimitri who no doubt read this as evidence of me flirting with Joshua.

  ʺYeah,ʺ she said. ʺBecause theyʹre probably the most important family in town. They eat better, probably donʹt have to work in the sun as much. That kind of stuff makes a difference.ʺ

  There was no more talk of flirting as we continued the drive. We made good time to Rubysville, which looked eerily similar to the first town weʹd stayed in. When we stopped at what appeared to be the Rubysvilleʹs only gas station, Sydney ran inside to ask a few questions. She came back, reporting that there was indeed a café of sorts where she could plug in her laptop and try to look up what we needed.

  She ordered coffee, and we sat there with her, too full from breakfast to order anything substantial. After a couple dirty looks from a waitress who seemed to regard us as loiterers, Dimitri and I decided to take a walk around town. Sydney looked almost as pleased as the waitress about this. I donʹt think she liked having us hover around.

  Iʹd given Sydney a hard time about West Virginia, but I had to admit the scenery was beautiful. Soaring trees, full of summer leaves, surrounded the town like an embrace. Beyond them, mountains loomed, very different from the ones Iʹd grown up with near St. Vladimirʹs. These were rolling and green, covered in more trees. Most of the mountains surrounding St. Vladimirʹs had been stony and jagged, often with snowy peaks. A strange sense of nostalgia came over me, thinking back to Montana. There was a good possibility Iʹd never see it again. If I spent the rest of my life on the run, St. Vladimirʹs was the last place I could go. If I was caught, well . . . then Iʹd definitely never get to see Montana again.

  ʺOr any place,ʺI murmured, speaking out loud before I could catch myself.

  ʺHmm?ʺ asked Dimitri.

  ʺI was just thinking about if the guardians find us. I never realized how much there was I wanted to do and see. Suddenly, thatʹs all at stake, you know?ʺ We moved off to the side of the road as an orange pickup came driving by. Children out of school for the summer screeched and laughed in the back of it. ʺOkay, suppose my name isnʹt cleared and we never find the real murderer. Whatʹs the next-best-case scenario? Me: always running, always hiding. Thatʹll be my life. For all I know, I will have to go live with the Keepers.ʺ

  ʺI donʹt think itʹll come to that,ʺ said Dimitri. ʺAbe and Sydney would help you find some place safe.ʺ

  ʺIs there a safe place? For real? Adrian said the guardians are increasing their efforts to find us. Theyʹve got the Alchemists and probably human authorities looking for us too. No matter where we go, weʹll run the risk of being spotted. Then weʹll have to move on. Itʹll be like that forever.ʺ

  ʺYouʹll be alive,ʺ he pointed out. ʺThatʹs what matters. Enjoy what you have, every little detail of wherever you are. Donʹt focus on where you arenʹt.ʺ

  ʺYeah,ʺ I admitted, trying to follow his advice. The sky seemed a little bluer, the birds a little louder. ʺI suppose I shouldnʹt whine over the dream places I wonʹt get to see. I should be grateful I get to see anything at all. And that Iʹm not living in a cave.ʺ

  He glanced over at me and smiled, something unreadable in his eyes. ʺWhere do you want to go?ʺ

  ʺWhat, right now?ʺ I glanced around, sizing up our options. There was a bait and tackle store, a drugstore, and an ice cream parlor. I had a feeling that last one would be a necessary trip before leaving town.

  ʺNo, in the world.ʺ

  I eyed him warily. ʺSydneyʹs going to be pissed if we take off for Istanbul or something.ʺ

  This got me full-fledged laughter. ʺNot what I had in mind. Come on.ʺ

  I followed him toward what looked like the bait and tackle store and then noticed a small building tucked behind it. Naturally, his sharp eyes had seen what I missed—probably because Iʹd been fixated on the ice cream. RUBYSVILLE PUBLIC LIBRARY.

  ʺWhoa, hey,ʺ I said. ʺOne of the few perks of graduating was avoiding places like this.ʺ

  ʺIt′s probably air conditioned,ʺ he pointed out.

  I looked down at my sweat-soaked tank top and noticed a faint pink tinge to my skin. With my tanned complexion, I rarely burned, but this was some serious sun—even so late in the day. ʺLead on,ʺ I told him.

  The library was mercifully cool, though even smaller than the one at St. Vladimirʹs. With some uncanny sense (or maybe just a knowledge of the Dewey Decimal System), Dimitri led us over to the travel section—which consisted of about ten books, three of which were about West Virginia. He frowned.

  ʺNot quite what I expected.ʺ He scanned the shelf twice and then pulled out a large, bright-colored one entitled 100 Best Places to Visit in the World.

  We sat down cross-legged on the floor, and he handed me the book. ʺNo way, comrade,ʺ I said. ʺI know books are a journey of the imagination, but I donʹt think Iʹm up for that today.ʺ

  ʺJust take it,ʺ he said. ʺClose your eyes, and flip randomly to a page.ʺ

  It seemed
silly, considering everything else going on in our life, but his face said he was serious. Indulging him, I closed my eyes and selected a page in the middle. I opened to it.

  ʺMitchell, South Dakota?ʺ I exclaimed. Remembering I was in a library, I lowered my voice. ʺOut of all the places in the world, that makes the top hundred?ʺ

  He was smiling again, and Iʹd forgotten how much Iʹd missed that. ʺRead it.ʺ

  ʺ‘Located ninety minutes outside of Sioux Falls, Mitchell is home to the Corn Palace.ʹʺ I looked up at him in disbelief. ʺCorn Palace?ʺ

  He scooted over next to me, leaning close to look at the pictures. ʺI figured itʹd be made of corn husks,ʺ he noted. The pictures actually showed what looked like a Middle Eastern—or even Russian—style building, with turrets and onion domes.

  ʺMe too.ʺ Reluctantly, I added, ʺIʹd visit it. I bet they have great T-shirts.ʺ

  ʺAnd,ʺ he said, a sly look in his eyes, ʺI bet no guardians would look for us there.ʺ

  I made no attempts to conceal my laughter, imagining us living as fugitives in the Corn Palace for the rest of our lives. My amusement brought us a scolding from a librarian, and we quieted as Dimitri took his turn. Sao Paolo, Brazil. Then my turn: Honolulu, Hawaii. Back and forth we passed the book, and before long, we were both lying on the floor, side by side, sharing mixed reactions as we continued our ʺglobal tour of the imagination.ʺ Our arms and legs just barely touched.

  If anyone had told me forty-eight hours ago that Iʹd be lying in a library with Dimitri, reading a travel book, I would have said they were crazy. Almost as crazy was the realization that I was doing something perfectly ordinary and casual with him. Since the moment weʹd met, our lives had been about secrecy and danger. And really, those were still the dominant themes in our lives. But in those quiet couple of hours, time seemed to stand still. We were at peace. We were friends.

  ʺFlorence, Italy,ʺ I read. Pictures of elaborate churches and galleries filled the page. ʺSydney wants to go there. She wanted to study there, actually. If Abe could have managed that, I think she would have served him for life.ʺ