Last Sacrifice (6)

by Richelle Mead

  He had, I supposed. ʺThank you, Robert,ʺ I said. The words came hesitantly to my lips. Robert didnʹt seem to hear.

  Dimitri stood up, lifting Sonya easily in his arms. She was still crying, but her sobs were quieter now.

  ʺShe needs to rest,ʺ he said gruffly. ʺBelieve me, you have no idea whatʹs going on inside her right now.ʺ

  ʺOh, I believe you,ʺ I said.

  ʺYouʹre idiots,ʺ snapped Victor. ʺBoth of you.ʺ

  It was a wonder Dimitriʹs glare didnʹt pin Victor to the floor. ʺNo interrogation yet.ʺ

  I nodded my agreement, not knowing what else to do. When Lissa had changed Dimitri, sheʹd taken on a fierce, similarly protective attitude. He might not have been the one to change Sonya, but he was the only one here who had any idea what she was going through. I knew heʹd had a hard adjustment and that the initial effects of the restoration had been disorienting. That wasnʹt even taking into account the subsequent depression.

  He swept past all of us, taking Sonya to her bedroom. Sydney watched them go and then glanced over to the sofa, where Victor still had his arm wrapped around his brother. The Alchemist met my eyes wonderingly.

  ʺI heard . . . but I didnʹt believe.ʺ

  ʺSometimes,ʺ I told her, ʺI still donʹt. It goes against every rule of the universe.ʺ

  To my surprise, she touched the small gold cross around her neck. ʺSome rules are bigger than the universe.ʺ

  Victor rose from the couch, apparently satisfied Robert was resting. I tensed up. Miracles aside, he was still a criminal, one I intended to capture. He took a step toward me, pitching his voice low.

  ʺSorry to interrupt Metaphysics 101, but you need to listen to me,ʺ he said. ʺBe careful, Rose. Very careful. A lot rests on you now. Donʹt let your pet wolf keep you from finding out what Sonya knows.ʺ

  ʺBut heʹs right,ʺ I exclaimed. ʺIt′s been five minutes! What she went through . . . what they both went through . . . well, itʹs kind of a big deal. Literally life-changing. He had to recover too and adjust to being saved. Once she does, sheʹll help us.ʺ

  ʺAre you sure?ʺ he asked, narrowing his eyes. ʺWill she think sheʹs been saved? You forget: Belikov was turned against his will. She wasnʹt.ʺ

  ʺW-what are you saying? That sheʹs going to try to become Strigoi again?ʺ

  He shrugged. ʺIʹm saying get your answers soon. And donʹt leave her alone.ʺ

  With that, Victor turned and headed toward the kitchen. He soon returned with a glass of water. Robert drank it greedily and then fell into a heavy sleep. I sighed and leaned against a wall near Sydney, totally worn out. I still hurt from the earlier fight.

  ʺWhat now?ʺ asked Sydney.

  I shook my head. ʺI donʹt know. We wait, I guess.ʺ

  Dimitri returned a little while later and spared a small glance for Robert. ʺSheʹs sleeping too,ʺ he told me. ʺThe transformation . . . itʹs difficult.ʺ I could see a haunted look in his eyes and wondered what memory was tormenting him now. The memory of being changed? The memory of being Strigoi?

  ʺI donʹt think we should leave Sonya alone,ʺ I said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Victor smirk. ʺSomeone should stay with her in case she wakes up. She wonʹt know whatʹs going on.ʺ

  Dimitri didnʹt answer for a few seconds as he scrutinized me. He knew me well enough to sense there might be something else on my mind. Fortunately, he couldnʹt find a fault in my logic.

  ʺYouʹre right. Do you mind sitting with her?ʺ he asked Sydney.

  I groped for something to say. No, no. Not Sydney. If Sonya did turn on us, we needed someone else on guard—someone who could fight back. Sydney, probably guessing my problem, saved me from lying to Dimitri—or from telling him the truth about my concerns.

  ʺShe doesnʹt know me. It might make things worse when she wakes up. Besides . . .ʺ Sydney put on that disgusted expression that Alchemists excelled at. ʺI donʹt really feel that comfortable with someone who was a monster five minutes ago.ʺ

  ʺSheʹs not Strigoi,ʺ he exclaimed. ʺSheʹs absolutely, completely Moroi again!ʺ Even I felt a little cowed by the harshness of his voice, but I wasnʹt entirely surprised at his vehement reaction. Heʹd had a hard time convincing others heʹd changed. His face softened a little. ʺI know itʹs hard to believe, but she really has changed.ʺ

  ʺIʹll stay with her then,ʺ I said.

  ʺNo, no.ʺ Dimitri shook his head. ʺSydneyʹs right about one thing: Sonya might be confused. Itʹs better if someoneʹs there who understands whatʹs happened.ʺ

  I started to argue that I was the only one Sonya really knew but then decided Iʹd rather stay with the brothers. They seemed harmless now, but I didnʹt trust them. Dimitri apparently didnʹt either. He took a few steps forward and leaned down, speaking only an inch from my ear.

  ʺKeep an eye on them,ʺ he murmured. ʺRobertʹs down right now but might recover sooner than we think.ʺ

  ʺI know.ʺ

  He started to turn, then glanced back at me. His commander face had softened into something thoughtful and awestruck. ʺRose?ʺ

  ʺYeah?ʺ

  ʺThat . . . was that what it was like when Lissa changed me?ʺ

  ʺMore or less.ʺ

  ʺI didnʹt realize . . . it was . . .ʺ He struggled for words. It was uncharacteristic. ʺThe way that light filled the room, the way she changed. Seeing that life emerge from death . . . it was . . .ʺ

  ʺBeautiful?ʺ

  He nodded. ʺLife like that . . . you donʹt—no, you canʹt waste it.ʺ

  ʺNo,ʺ I agreed. ʺYou canʹt.ʺ

  I saw something shift in him then. It was small, just like in the alley, but I knew then another piece of the Strigoi-trauma had peeled away.

  He said no more, and I watched as he walked back down the hall. With nothing else to do, Sydney sat down cross-legged on the floor, holding a book in her lap. It was closed, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. Meanwhile, Victor sat back in the armchair and reclined it. He didnʹt look as bad as Robert, but lines of fatigue showed on both brothers. Good. The longer they were out of commission, the better. I brought in a chair from the kitchen so I could sit and survey the room. Everything was peaceful.

  I felt like a babysitter, which I suppose I kind of was. It had been a long day, and night soon turned the windows black. This made worried me. For all I knew, Sonya had some Strigoi pals who might stop by. The fact that Donovan knew her certainly indicated she wasnʹt a total outcast among them. It made me extra-vigilant, but at the same time, I was exhausted. The brothers were already asleep. Sydney, perhaps in an attempt to keep her human schedule, eventually found a spare blanket and pillow and curled up in a makeshift bed on the floor.

  And me? I was halfway between human and vampiric schedules. I had a feeling Dimitri was the same. Really, we were on a do-whatʹs-necessary schedule, in which extensive sleep was not an option.

  A hum of excitement and astonishment suddenly sang through the bond. I sensed no danger or threat, but curiosity made me decide to check in with Lissa anyway. Even if I was in her mind, I knew my body would stay watchful, and I wanted to know how the rest of Lissaʹs test had gone.

  Beautifully, of course. She rode back to Court, exhausted but proud of herself. She wasnʹt the only one. The rest of her companions all wore similar expressions . . . all except for Ava Drozdov. She had been the only one to break and use the cell phone to call for help. Lissa was surprised that Ava had cracked. After his earlier bitching, Marcus Lazar had seemed the most likely to bail. But no, the old man had managed it somehow, meaning heʹd continue on in the monarch trials. Ava refused to make eye contact with anyone, instead staring bleakly out the window as they traveled back to Court. She would still hold a Council spot, but her shot at being queen was gone.

  Lissa felt bad for her but couldnʹt spare too much concern. It was the way of the trials, the way they determined the best candidates. Besides, Lissa had her own issues. Staying out in the daytime had run contrary to the normal vampiric schedule. Now, she simply wanted to get back to Cou
rt, find her room, and sleep for a few hours. She wanted some peace.

  Instead, she found a mob waiting for her.

  NINETEEN

  THE VANS PARKED IN A semi-remote part of Court, so seeing the area packed with eager Moroi was quite a shock to Lissa. Guardians moved through the people like ghosts, just as they had at the nomination session, keeping as much order as possible. The crowd kept getting in the way as the vans attempted to reach the garages, and faces looked in the windows, trying to get a glimpse of the royal candidates.

  Lissa stared at the masses in shock, almost afraid to get out. Ariana gave her a comforting smile. ʺThis is normal. They all want to know who made it and who didnʹt. They especially want to know.ʺ She inclined her head toward the front of the van. Peering through the windshield, Lissa spied the other six candidates. Because the forest course could only accommodate so many people, the group had been split in half. The rest of the candidates would take the same test tomorrow and were no doubt curious who among their competitors had passed today.

  Lissa was used to order and decorum around royals, so she was astonished to see such eagerness and frenzy among them now. And of course, the ʺcommonʺ Moroi whoʹd been arriving at Court were mixed into the crowd too. Everyone was pushing, peering over the heads of others to find out what had happened. People were shouting some of the candidatesʹ names, and I was half-surprised they hadnʹt come up with songs and banners.

  Lissa and her companions exited the van and were met with a wave of cheers that rippled through the crowd. It became obvious pretty quickly who had passed and who hadnʹt. This sent the crowd abuzz even more. Lissa stood rooted to the spot, staring around and feeling lost. It was one thing to rationally discuss the pros of her running for queen with her friends. It was an entirely different matter to suddenly be thrust into what the elections truly meant.

  Her focus had been limited to a few things: my safety, finding the murderer, and surviving the tests. Now, as she took in the crowd, she realized the election was bigger than her, bigger than anything she could have imagined. For these people, it wasnʹt a joke. It wasnʹt a scam to twist the law and stall for time. Their lives were figuratively on the line. Moroi and dhampirs lived inside various countries and obeyed those laws, but they also obeyed this government, the one that operated out of the Court. It reached around the world and affected every dhampir and Moroi who chose to stay in our society. We had some voting, yes, but the king or queen shaped our futures.

  The guardians in charge of the crowds finally gave the okay for family members to push through the masses and collect their nominees. Lissa had no one. Both Janine and Eddie—despite earlier claims—were occasionally given temporary tasks that prevented them from being with Lissa 24/7, and she certainly had no family to come for her. Adrift, she felt dizzy in the chaos, still stunned by her moment of clarity. Conflicting emotions warred within her. Deceiving everyone made her feel unworthy, like she should resign her candidacy right now. At the same time, she suddenly wanted to be worthy of the elections. She wanted to hold her head high and walk into the tests proudly, even if she was taking them for ulterior motives.

  A strong hand at last caught hold of her arm. Christian. ʺCome on. Letʹs get out of here.ʺ He pulled her away, shouldering through the onlookers. ʺHey,ʺ he called to a couple guardians on the crowdʹs periphery. ʺA little help here for the princess?ʺ

  It was the first time I had ever seen him act like a royal, throwing around the authority of his bloodline. To me, he was snarky, cynical Christian. In Moroi society, at eighteen, he could now technically be addressed as Lord Ozera. Iʹd forgotten that. The two guardians hadnʹt. They rushed to Lissaʹs side, helping Christian part the crowd. The faces around her were a blur, the noise a dull roar. Yet, every once in a while, something would come through to her. The chanting of her name. Declarations about the return of the dragon, which was the symbol of the Dragomir family. This is real, she kept thinking. This is real.

  The guardians efficiently led her out of it all and back across the Courtʹs grounds to her building. They released her once they considered her safe, and she graciously thanked them for their help. When she and Christian were in her room, she sank onto the bed, stunned.

  ʺOh my God,ʺ she said. ʺThat was insane.ʺ

  Christian smiled. ʺWhich part? Your welcome home party? Or the test itself? You look like you just . . . well, Iʹm not really sure what you just did.ʺ

  Lissa took a quick survey of herself. Theyʹd given her dry towels on the ride home, but her clothing was still damp and was wrinkling as it dried. Her shoes and jeans had mud all over them, and she didnʹt even want to think about what her hair looked like.

  ʺYeah, we—ʺ

  The words stuck on her tongue—and not because she suddenly decided not to tell him.

  ʺI canʹt say,ʺ she murmured. ʺIt really worked. The spell wonʹt let me.ʺ

  ʺWhat spell?ʺ he asked.

  Lissa rolled up her sleeve and lifted the bandage to show him the tiny tattooed dot on her arm. ʺItʹs a compulsion spell so I wonʹt talk about the test. Like the Alchemists have.ʺ

  ʺWow,ʺ he said, truly impressed. ʺI never actually thought those worked.ʺ

  ʺI guess so. Itʹs really weird. I want to talk about it, but I just . . . can′t.ʺ

  ʺIt′s okay,ʺ he said, brushing some of her damp hair aside. ʺYou passed. Thatʹs what matters. Just focus on that.ʺ

  ʺThe only thing I want to focus on right now is a shower—which is kind of ironic, considering how soaked I am.ʺ She didnʹt move, though, and instead stared off at the far wall.

  ʺHey,ʺ said Christian gently. ʺWhatʹs wrong? Did the crowd scare you?ʺ

  She turned back to him. ʺNo, thatʹs the thing. I mean, they were intimidating, yeah. But I just realized . . . I donʹt know. I realized Iʹm part of a major process, one thatʹs gone on since—ʺ

  ʺThe beginning of time?ʺ teased Christian, quoting Nathanʹs nonsensical statement.

  ʺNearly,ʺ she answered, with a small smile that soon faded. ʺThis goes beyond tradition, Christian. The elections are a core part of our society. Ingrained. We can talk about changing age laws or fighting or whatever, but this is ancient. And far-reaching. Those people out there? Theyʹre not all Americans. Theyʹve come from other countries. I forget sometimes that even though the Court is here, it rules Moroi everywhere. What happens here affects the whole world.ʺ

  ʺWhere are you going with this?ʺ he asked. She was lost in her own thoughts and couldnʹt see Christian as objectively as I could. He knew Lissa. He understood her and loved her. The two of them had a synchronicity similar to what Dimitri and I shared. Sometimes, however, Lissaʹs thoughts spun in directions he couldnʹt guess. Heʹd never admit it, but I knew part of why he loved her was that—unlike me, who everyone knew was impetuous—Lissa always seemed the picture of calmness and rationality. Then, sheʹd do something totally unexpected. Those moments delighted him—but sometimes scared him because he never knew just how much a role spirit was playing in her actions. Now was one of those times. He knew the elections were stressing her, and like me, he knew that could bring out the worst.

  ʺIʹm going to take these tests seriously,ʺ she said. ʺItʹs—itʹs shameful not to. An insult to our society. My ultimate goal is to find out who framed Rose, but in the meantime? Iʹm going to go through the trials like someone who intends to be queen.ʺ

  Christian hesitated before speaking, a rarity for him. ʺDo you want to be queen?ʺ

  That snapped Lissa from her dreamy philosophizing about tradition and honor. ʺNo! Of course not. Iʹm eighteen. I canʹt even drink yet.ʺ

  ʺThatʹs never stopped you from doing it,ʺ he pointed out, becoming more like his usual self.

  ʺIʹm serious! I want to go to college. I want Rose back. I donʹt want to rule the Moroi nation.ʺ

  A sly look lit Christianʹs blue eyes. ʺYou know, Aunt Tasha makes jokes about how youʹd actually be a better queen than the others, except sometimes . . . I donʹt thin
k sheʹs joking.ʺ

  Lissa groaned and stretched back on the bed. ʺI love her, but weʹve got to keep her in check. If anyone could actually get that law changed, it would be her and her activist friends.ʺ

  ʺWell, donʹt worry. The thing about her ‘activist friendsʹ is that they have so much to protest, they donʹt usually get behind one thing at the same time.ʺ Christian stretched out beside her and pulled her close. ʺBut for what itʹs worth, I think youʹd be a great queen too, Princess Dragomir.ʺ

  ʺYouʹre going to get dirty,ʺ she warned.

  ʺAlready am. Oh, you mean from your clothes?ʺ He wrapped his arms around her, heedless of her damp and muddy state. ʺI spent most of my childhood hiding in a dusty attic and own exactly one dress shirt. You really think I care about this T-shirt?ʺ

  She laughed and then kissed him, letting her mind free itself of worry for a moment and just savor the feel of his lips. Considering they were on a bed, I wondered if it was time for me to go. After several seconds, she pulled back and sighed contentedly.

  ʺYou know, sometimes I think I love you.ʺ

  ʺSometimes?ʺ he asked in mock outrage.

  She ruffled his hair. ʺAll the time. But Iʹve got to keep you on your toes.ʺ

  ʺConsider me kept.ʺ

  He brought his lips toward hers again but stopped when a knock sounded at the door. Lissa pulled back from the near-kiss, but neither of them broke from the embrace.

  ʺDonʹt answer,ʺ said Christian.

  Lissa frowned, peering toward the living room. She slipped out of his arms, stood up, and walked toward the door. When she was several feet from it, she nodded knowingly. ʺItʹs Adrian.ʺ

  ʺMore reason not to answer,ʺ said Christian.

  Lissa ignored him and opened the door, and sure enough, my devil-may-care boyfriend stood there. From behind Lissa, I heard Christian say, ʺWorst. Timing. Ever.ʺ