Last Sacrifice (6)

by Richelle Mead

  The command made it through to Dimitri. Our struggle, unfortunately, gave Donovan maneuvering room. He started to break free of us, but then, as one, Dimitri and I threw ourselves into holding Donovan. I was reminded of the time Iʹd questioned Strigoi in Russia. It had taken a whole group of dhampirs to restrain one Strigoi, but Dimitri seemed to have unnatural strength.

  ʺWhen we were interrogating, we used to—ʺ

  My words were interrupted when Dimitri decided to utilize his own method of interrogation. He gripped Donovan by the shoulders and shook him hard, causing the Strigoi to keep hitting his head against the cement.

  ʺWhere is Sonya Karp?ʺ roared Dimitri.

  ʺI donʹt—ʺ began Donovan. But Dimitri had no patience for Strigoi evasion.

  ʺWhere is she? I know you know her!ʺ

  ʺI—ʺ

  ʺWhere is she?ʺ

  I saw something on Donovanʹs face that Iʹd never seen in a Strigoi before: fear. Iʹd thought it was an emotion they simply didnʹt possess. Or, if they did, it was only in the battles they fought with one another. They wouldnʹt waste time with fear around lowly dhampirs.

  But oh, Donovan was scared of Dimitri. And to be honest, I was too.

  Those red-ringed eyes were wide—wide, desperate, and terrified. When Donovan blurted out his next words, something told me they were true. His fear wasnʹt giving him a chance to lie. He was too shocked and unprepared by all of this.

  ʺParis,ʺ he gasped out. ʺSheʹs in Paris!ʺ

  ʺChrist,ʺ I exclaimed. ʺWe cannot road trip to Paris.ʺ

  Donovan shook his head (in as much as he could with Dimitri shaking him in return). ʺItʹs a small town—an hour away. Thereʹs this tiny lake. Hardly anyone on it. Blue house.ʺ

  Vague directions. We needed more. ʺDo you have an addr—ʺ

  Dimitri apparently didnʹt share my need for more information. Before I could finish speaking, his stake was out—and in Donovanʹs heart. The Strigoi made a horrible, blood-curdling scream that faded as death took him. I winced. How long until someone heard all this and called the police?

  Dimitri pulled his stake out—and then stabbed Donovan again. And again. I stared in disbelief and horror, frozen for a few moments. Then, I grabbed Dimitriʹs arm and began shaking him, though I felt like I would have had more effect shaking the building behind me.

  ʺHeʹs dead, Dimitri! Heʹs dead! Stop this. Please.ʺ

  Dimitriʹs face still wore that terrible, terrible expression—rage, now marked with a bit of desperation. Desperation that told him if he could only obliterate Donovan, then maybe he could obliterate everything else bad in his life.

  I didnʹt know what to do. We had to get out of here. We had to get Sydney to disintegrate the bodies. Time was ticking, and I just kept repeating myself.

  ʺHeʹs dead! Let it go. Please. Heʹs dead.ʺ

  Then, somewhere, somehow, I broke through to Dimitri. His motions slowed and finally stopped. The hand holding the stake dropping weakly to his side as he stared at what was left of Donovan—which wasnʹt pretty. The rage on Dimitriʹs face completely gave way to desperation . . . and then that gave way to despair.

  I tugged gently on his arm. ʺItʹs over. Youʹve done enough.ʺ

  ʺItʹs never enough, Roza,ʺ he whispered. The grief in his voice killed me. ʺItʹll never be enough.ʺ

  ʺIt is for now,ʺ I said. I pulled him to me. Unresisting, he let go of his stake and buried his face against my shoulder. I dropped my stake as well and embraced him, drawing him closer. He wrapped his arms around me in return, seeking the contact of another living being, the contact Iʹd long known he needed.

  ʺYouʹre the only one.ʺ He clung more tightly to me. ʺThe only one who understands. The only one who saw how I was. I could never explain it to anyone . . . youʹre the only one. The only one I can tell this to . . .ʺ

  I closed my eyes for a moment, overpowered by what he was saying. He might have sworn allegiance to Lissa, but that didnʹt mean heʹd fully revealed his heart to her. For so long, he and I had been in perfect sync, always understanding each other. That was still the case, no matter if we were together, no matter if I was with Adrian. Dimitri had always kept his heart and feelings guarded until meeting me. I thought heʹd locked them back up, but apparently, he still trusted me enough to reveal what was killing him inside.

  I opened my eyes and met his dark, earnest gaze. ʺItʹs okay,ʺ I said. ʺItʹs okay now. Iʹm here. Iʹll always be here for you.ʺ

  ʺI dream about them, you know. All the innocents I killed.ʺ His eyes drifted back to Donovanʹs body. ʺI keep thinking . . . maybe if I destroy enough Strigoi, the nightmares will go away. That Iʹll be certain Iʹm not one of them.ʺ

  I touched his chin, turning his face back toward mine and away from Donovan. ʺNo. You have to destroy Strigoi because theyʹre evil. Because thatʹs what we do. If you want the nightmares to go away, you have to live. Thatʹs the only way. We could have died just now. We didnʹt. Maybe weʹll die tomorrow. I donʹt know. What matters is that weʹre alive now.ʺ

  I was rambling at this point. I had never seen Dimitri so low, not since his restoration. Heʹd claimed being Strigoi had killed so many of his emotions. It hadnʹt. They were there, I realized. Everything he had been was still inside, only coming out in bursts—like this moment of rage and despair. Or when heʹd defended me from the arresting guardians. The old Dimitri wasnʹt gone. He was just locked away, and I didnʹt know how to let him out. This wasnʹt what I did. He was always the one with words of wisdom and insight. Not me. Still, he was listening now. I had his attention. What could I say? What could get through to him?

  ʺRemember what you said earlier?ʺ I asked. ʺBack in Rubysville? Living is in the details. Youʹve got to appreciate the details. Thatʹs the only way to defeat what the Strigoi did to you. The only way to bring back who you really are. You said it yourself: you escaped with me to feel the world again. Its beauty.ʺ

  Dimitri started to turn toward Donovan again, but I wouldnʹt let him. ʺThereʹs nothing beautiful here. Only death.ʺ

  ʺThatʹs only true if you let them make it true,ʺ I said desperately, still feeling the press of time. ʺFind one thing. One thing thatʹs beautiful. Anything. Anything that shows youʹre not one of them.ʺ

  His eyes were back on me, studying my face silently. Panic raced through me. It wasnʹt working. I couldnʹt do this. We were going to have to get out of here, regardless of whatever state he was in. I knew heʹd leave, too. If Iʹd learned anything, it was that Dimitriʹs warrior instincts were still working. If I said danger was coming, he would respond instantly, no matter the self-torment he felt. I didnʹt want that, though. I didnʹt want him to leave in despair. I wanted him to leave here one step closer to being the man I knew he could be. I wanted him to have one less nightmare.

  It was beyond my abilities, though. I was no therapist. I was about to tell him we had to get out there, about to make his soldier reflexes kick in, when he suddenly spoke. His voice was barely a whisper. ʺYour hair.ʺ

  ʺWhat?ʺ For a second, I wondered if it was on fire or something. I touched a stray lock. No, nothing wrong except that it was a mess. Iʹd bound it up for battle to prevent the Strigoi from using it as a handhold, like Angeline had. Much of it had come undone in the struggle, though.

  ʺYour hair,ʺ repeated Dimitri. His eyes were wide, almost awestruck. ʺYour hair is beautiful.ʺ

  I didnʹt think so, not in its current state. Of course, considering we were in a dark alley filled with bodies, the choices were kind of limited. ʺYou see? Youʹre not one of them. Strigoi donʹt see beauty. Only death. You found something beautiful. One thing thatʹs beautiful.ʺ

  Hesitantly, nervously, he ran his fingers along the strands Iʹd touched earlier. ʺBut is it enough?ʺ

  ʺIt is for now.ʺ I pressed a kiss to his forehead and helped him stand. ʺIt is for now.ʺ

  SIXTEEN

  CONSIDERING SYDNEY DESTROYED dead bodies on a regular basis, it was kind of surprising that she was so shocked
by our post-fight appearances. Maybe dead Strigoi were just objects to her. Dimitri and I were real live people, and we were a mess.

  ʺI hope you guys donʹt stain the car,ʺ she said, once the bodies were disposed of and we were on our way. I think it was her best attempt at a joke, in an effort to cover up her discomfort over our torn and bloody clothes.

  ʺAre we going to Paris?ʺ I asked, turning to look back at Dimitri.

  ʺParis?ʺ asked Sydney, startled.

  ʺNot yet,ʺ said Dimitri, leaning his head back against the seat. He was back to looking like a controlled guardian. All signs of his earlier breakdown were gone, and I had no intention of giving away what had happened before weʹd fetched Sydney. So small . . . yet so monumental. And very private. For now, he mostly looked tired. ʺWe should wait until daytime. We had to go for Donovan now, but if Sonyaʹs got a house, sheʹs probably there all the time. Safer for us in daylight.ʺ

  ʺHow do you know he wasnʹt lying?ʺ asked Sydney. She was driving with no real destination, merely getting us out of the neighborhood as fast as possible and before people reported screams and the sounds of fighting.

  I thought back to the terror on Donovanʹs face and shivered. ʺI donʹt think he was lying.ʺ

  Sydney didnʹt ask any more questions, except about which direction she should drive. Dimitri suggested we find another hotel so that we could clean up and get some rest before tomorrowʹs task. Fortunately, Lexington had a much broader selection of hotels than our last town. We didnʹt go for luxury, but the large, modern-looking place we chose was part of a chain, clean and stylish. Sydney checked us in and then led us inside through a side door, so as not to startle any guests who might be up in the middle of the night.

  We got one room with two double beds. No one commented on it, but I think we all shared a need to stay together after our earlier Strigoi encounter. Dimitri was much more of a mess than me, thanks to his mutilation of Donovan, so I sent him to shower first.

  ʺYou did great,ʺ I told Sydney as we waited. I sat on the floor (which was much cleaner than the last roomʹs) so that I wouldnʹt wreck the beds. ʺThat was really brave of you.ʺ

  She crooked me a smile. ʺTypical. You get beat up and nearly killed, but Iʹm the one youʹre praising?ʺ

  ʺHey, I do this all the time. Going in there alone like you did . . . well, it was pretty hardcore. And Iʹm not that beat up.ʺ

  I was brushing off my injuries, just as Dimitri would. Sydney, eyeing me, knew it too. My legs were scraped more than Iʹd realized, the skin torn and bleeding from where Iʹd fallen on the cement. One of my ankles was complaining over the roof-jump, and I had a number of cuts and bruises scattered over the rest of me. I had no clue where most had come from.

  Sydney shook her head. ʺHow you guys donʹt catch gangrene more often is beyond me.ʺ We both knew why, though. It was part of the natural resistance Iʹd been born with as a dhampir, getting the best of both racesʹ traits. Moroi were actually pretty healthy too, though they sometimes caught diseases unique to their race. Victor was an example. He had a chronic disease and had once forced Lissa to heal him. Her magic had restored him to full health at the time, but the illness was slowly creeping back.

  I showered after Dimitri finished, and then Sydney forced her first aid kit on both of us. When we were bandaged and disinfected to her satisfaction, she got out her laptop and pulled up a map of Paris, Kentucky. The three of us huddled around the screen.

  ʺLots of creeks and rivers,ʺ she mused, scrolling around. ʺNot much in the way of lakes.ʺ

  I pointed. ʺDo you think thatʹs it?ʺ It was a tiny body of water, marked APPLEWOOD POND.

  ʺMaybe. Ah, thereʹs another pond. That could be a suspect too or—oh! Right here?ʺ She tapped the screen on another body of water, a bit bigger than the ponds: MARTIN LAKE.

  Dimitri sat back and ran a hand over his eyes as he yawned. ʺThat looks like the most likely option. If not, I donʹt think itʹll take long to drive around the other ones.ʺ

  ʺThatʹs your plan?ʺ asked Sydney. ʺJust drive around and look for a blue house?ʺ

  I exchanged glances with Dimitri and shrugged. Sydney might be showing her bravery on this trip, but I knew her idea of ʺa planʺ was a little different from ours. Hers were structured, well-thought out, and had a clear purpose. Also, details.

  ʺItʹs more solid than most of our plans,ʺ I said at last.

  The sun was going to be up in another hour or so. I was restless to go after Sonya, but Dimitri insisted sleep until midday. He took one bed, and Sydney and I shared the other. I didnʹt really think I needed the rest he claimed, but my body disagreed. I fell asleep almost instantly.

  And like always lately, I eventually was pulled into a spirit dream. I hoped it was Adrian, coming to finish our last conversation. Instead, the conservatory materialized around me, complete with harp and cushioned furniture. I sighed and faced the Brothers Dashkov.

  ʺGreat,ʺ I said. ʺAnother conference call. I have really got to start blocking your number.ʺ

  Victor gave me a small bow. ʺAlways a pleasure, Rose.ʺ Robert merely stared off into space again. Nice to know some things never changed.

  ʺWhat do you want?ʺ I demanded.

  ʺYou know what we want. Weʹre here to help you help Vasilisa.ʺ I didnʹt believe that for an instant. Victor had some scheme in mind, but my hope was to capture him before he could do any further damage. He studied me expectantly. ʺHave you found the other Dragomir yet?ʺ

  I stared incredulously. ʺItʹs only been a day!ʺ I almost had to redo my math on that one. It felt more like ten years. Nope. Only a day since Iʹd last spoken to Victor.

  ʺAnd?ʺ Victor asked.

  ʺAnd, how good do you think we are?ʺ

  He considered. ʺPretty good.ʺ

  ʺWell, thanks for the vote of confidence, but itʹs not as easy as it seems. And actually . . . considering what a cover-up this has all been, it really doesnʹt seem easy at all.ʺ

  ʺBut you have found something?ʺ Victor pressed.

  I didnʹt answer.

  An eager gleam lit his eyes, and he took a step forward. I promptly took one back. ʺYou have found something.ʺ

  ʺMaybe.ʺ Again, I had the same indecision as before. Did Victor, with all his scheming and manipulating, know something that could help us? Last time, heʹd given me nothing, but now we had more information. What had he said? If we found a thread, he could unravel it?

  ʺRose.ʺ Victor was speaking to me like I was a child, as he often did to Robert. It made me scowl. ʺI told you before: It doesnʹt matter if you trust me or my intentions. For now, weʹre both interested in the same short-term goal. Donʹt let future worries ruin your chance here.ʺ

  It was funny, but that was similar to the principle Iʹd operated on for most of my life. Live in the now. Jump right in and worry about the consequences later. Now, I hesitated and tried to think things over before making a decision. At last, I chose to take the risk, again hoping Victor might be able to help.

  ʺWe think the mother . . . the mother of Lissaʹs brother or sister . . . is related to Sonya Karp.ʺ Victorʹs eyebrows rose. ʺYou know who that is?ʺ

  ʺOf course. She turned Strigoi—allegedly because she went insane. But we both know it was a little more complicated than that.ʺ

  I nodded reluctantly. ʺShe was a spirit user. No one knew.ʺ

  Robertʹs head whipped around so fast that I nearly jumped. ʺWho′s a spirit user?ʺ

  ʺFormer spirit user,ʺ said Victor, instantly switching to soothing mode. ʺShe became a Strigoi to get away from it.ʺ

  The sharp focus Robert had directed toward the two of us melted into soft dreaminess once more. ʺYes . . . always a lure to that . . . kill to live, live to kill. Immortality and freedom from these chains, but oh, what a loss . . .ʺ

  They were crazy ramblings, but they had an eerie similarity to some of the things Adrian said sometimes. I didnʹt like that at all. Trying to pretend Robert wasnʹt in the room, I turned back to Victor. ʺDo you know any
thing about her? Who sheʹs related to?ʺ

  He shook his head. ʺShe has a large family.ʺ

  I threw up my hands in exasperation. ʺCould you be any more useless? You keep acting like you know so much, but youʹre just telling us what weʹve already found out! You arenʹt helping!ʺ

  ʺHelp comes in many forms, Rose. Have you found Sonya?ʺ

  ʺYes.ʺ I reconsidered. ʺWell, not quite. We know where she is. Weʹre going to see her tomorrow and question her.ʺ

  The look on Victorʹs face spoke legions about how ridiculous he thought that was. ʺAnd Iʹm sure sheʹll be eager to help.ʺ

  I shrugged. ʺDimitriʹs pretty persuasive.ʺ

  ʺSo Iʹve heard,ʺ said Victor. ʺBut Sonya Karp isnʹt an impressionable teenager.ʺ I sized up a punch but worried Robert might have his force field up again. Victor appeared oblivious to my anger. ʺTell me where you are. Weʹll come to you.ʺ

  Once more, a dilemma. I didnʹt think there was much the brothers could do. But this might present an opportunity to recapture him. Besides, if we had him in person, maybe heʹd stop interrupting my dreams.

  ʺWeʹre in Kentucky,ʺ I said at last. ʺParis, Kentucky.ʺ I gave him what other info we had about the blue house.

  ʺWeʹll be there tomorrow,ʺ Victor said.

  ʺThen where are you now—ʺ

  And just like last time, Robert ended the dream abruptly, leaving me hanging. What had I gotten myself into with them? Before I could consider it, I was immediately taken to another spirit dream. Good Lord. It really was déjà vu. Everyone wanted to talk to me in my sleep. Fortunately, like last time, my second visit was from Adrian.

  This one was in the ballroom where the Council had met. There were no chairs or people, and my steps echoed on the hard wood floor. The room that seemed so grand and powerful when in use now had a lonely, ominous feel.

  Adrian stood near one of the tall, arched windows, giving me one of his roguish smiles when I hugged him. Compared to how dirty and bloody everything was in the real world, he seemed pristine and perfect.