Last Sacrifice (6)

by Richelle Mead

  Sydney and I had been given a guestroom to share, and the brothers occupied another. Sonya was going to stay in Jillʹs room, and Dimitri had been offered the couch. I didnʹt doubt for a second heʹd be stalking the halls as the household slept and that Iʹd be trading shifts with him. For now, he was still showering, and I crept out into the hall and peered down over a railing to check out the first floor. The Mastranos, Sonya, and the brothers were all gathered with the feeder and her keeper. Nothing seemed amiss. Relieved, I returned to my room and used the downtime to check on Lissa.

  After the initial excitement of passing her test, Iʹd felt her calm down and had assumed she was getting much-needed sleep. But, no. She hadnʹt gone to bed. Sheʹd taken Eddie and Christian over to Adrianʹs, and I realized she was the one whoʹd woken him up from the dream Iʹd shared with him in the car. A skimming of her recent memories gave me a replay of what had happened since the time he left me and staggered to his door.

  ʺWhatʹs going on?ʺ he asked, looking from face to face. ʺI was having a good dream.ʺ

  ʺI need you,ʺ said Lissa.

  ʺI hear that from women a lot,ʺ said Adrian. Christian made a gagging sound, but the faintest glimmer of a smile crossed Eddieʹs lips, despite his otherwise tough guardian-stance.

  ʺIʹm serious,ʺ she told him. ʺI just got a message from Ambrose. Heʹs got something important to tell us, and . . . I donʹt know. Iʹm still not certain of his role in everything. I want another set of eyes on him. I want your opinion.ʺ

  ʺThat,ʺ Adrian said, ʺis not something I hear a lot.ʺ

  ʺJust hurry up and get dressed, okay?ʺ ordered Christian.

  Honestly, it was a wonder anyone slept anymore, considering how often we were all pulled out of sleep. Adrian nonetheless did dress quickly, and despite his flippant comments, I knew he was interested in anything related to clearing my name. What I was uncertain of was whether heʹd tell anyone about the mess Iʹd gotten myself into, now that Iʹd slipped and revealed some of my true activities.

  My friends hurried over to the building theyʹd visited before, the one where Ambrose lived and worked. The Court had woken up, and people were out and about, many undoubtedly wanting to find out about the second monarch test. In fact, a few people catching sight of Lissa called out happy greetings.

  ʺI had another trial tonight,ʺ Lissa told Adrian. Someone had just congratulated her. ʺAn unexpected one.ʺ

  Adrian hesitated, and I waited for him to say heʹd already heard that from me. I also waited for him to deliver the shocking news about my current company and whereabouts. ʺHowʹd it go?ʺ he asked instead.

  ʺI passed,ʺ she replied. ʺThatʹs all that matters.ʺ

  She couldnʹt bring herself to tell him about the cheering people, those who didnʹt just simply support her because of the law but because they actually believed in her. Tasha, Mia, and some surprise friends from school had been among the onlookers, grinning at her. Even Daniella, there to wait for Rufusʹs turn, had grudgingly congratulated Lissa, seeming surprised Lissa had made it through. The whole experience had been surreal, and Lissa had simply wanted to get out of there.

  Eddie had gotten pulled away to assist other guardians, despite his protests that he was Lissaʹs escort. So, Christian and Tasha had ended up having to take Lissa home alone. Well, almost alone. A guardian named Ethan Moore joined them, the one Abe had teased Tasha about. Abe exaggerated some things, but heʹd been right this time. Ethan looked as tough as any guardian, but his kickass attitude occasionally faltered whenever he looked at Tasha. He adored her. She clearly liked him too and flirted along the way—much to Christianʹs discomfort. I thought it was cute. Some guys probably wouldnʹt go near Tasha because of her scars. It was nice to see someone who appreciated her for her character, no matter how disgusted Christian was by the thought of anyone dating his aunt. And I actually kind of liked seeing Christian so obviously tormented. It was good for him.

  Ethan and Tasha left once Lissa was securely back in her room. Within minutes, Eddie showed back up, grumbling about how theyʹd delayed him with some ʺcrap taskʺ when they knew he had better things to do. Heʹd apparently made such a fuss that theyʹd finally released him, so he could hurry back to Lissaʹs side. He made it just ten minutes before Ambroseʹs note arrived, which was lucky timing. Eddie would have freaked out if heʹd come to her room and found her gone. He would have thought Strigoi had kidnapped his charge in his absence.

  That was the series of events leading up to what was happening now: Lissa and the three guys going off to Ambroseʹs secret meeting.

  ʺYouʹre early,ʺ he said, letting them in before Lissa could even knock a second time. They stood inside Ambroseʹs own room now, not a fancy parlor for clients. It resembled a dorm room—a very nice one. Much nicer than anything Iʹd endured. Lissaʹs attention was all on Ambrose, so she didnʹt notice, out of the corner of her eye, Eddie quickly scanning the room. I was glad he was on his game and guessed he didnʹt trust Ambrose—or anyone not in our immediate circle.

  ʺWhatʹs going on?ʺ asked Lissa, as soon as Ambrose shut the door. ʺWhy the urgent visit?ʺ

  ʺBecause I have to show you something,ʺ he said. On his bed was a pile of papers, and he took the top one. ʺRemember when I said they were locking off Tatianaʹs belongings? Well now theyʹre inventorying and removing them.ʺ Adrian shifted uncomfortably—again, only something I noticed. ʺShe had a safe where she kept important documents—secret ones, obviously. And . . .ʺ

  ʺAnd?ʺ prompted Lissa.

  ʺAnd, I didnʹt want anyone to find them,ʺ Ambrose continued. ʺI didnʹt know what most of them were, but if she wanted them secret . . . I just felt they should stay that way. I knew the combination, and so . . . I stole them.ʺ Guilt shone on his face, but it wasnʹt murderous guilt. It was guilt for the theft.

  Lissa eyed the stack eagerly. ʺAnd?ʺ

  ʺNone of them have anything to do with what youʹre looking for . . . except maybe this one.ʺ He handed her the piece of paper. Adrian and Christian crowded around her.

  Darling Tatiana,

  Iʹm a bit surprised to see how these latest developments have unfolded. I thought we had an understanding that the safety of our people required more than just bringing in a younger crop of guardians. We have let too many of them go to waste, particularly the women. If you took actions to force them back—and you know what Iʹm talking about—the guardian ranks would swell. This current law is completely inadequate, particularly after seeing how your ʺtrainingʺ experiment failed.

  Iʹm equally shocked to hear that you are considering releasing Dimitri Belikov from his guards. I donʹt understand exactly what happened, but you cannot trust mere appearances. You may be unleashing a monster—or at the very least, a spy—in our midst, and he needs to be under much stricter guard than he currently is. In fact, your continued support of the study of spirit is troubling altogether and no doubt led to this unnatural situation. I believe there is a reason this element was lost to us for so long: our ancestors realized its danger and stamped it out. Avery Lazar stands as proof of that, and your prodigy, Vasilisa Dragomir, is certain to follow. In encouraging Vasilisa, you encourage the degradation of the Dragomir line, a line that should be allowed to fade into history with honor and not the disgrace of insanity. Your support of her may also put your own great-nephew at risk, something neither of us would like to see happen.

  Iʹm sorry to burden you with so much condemnation. I hold you in the highest regard and have nothing but respect for the way you have so skillfully governed our people these long years. Iʹm certain you will soon come to the appropriate decisions—though I worry others may not share my confidence in you. Said people might attempt to take matters into their own hands, and I fear for what may follow.

  The letter was typed, with no signature. For a moment, Lissa couldnʹt process it as a whole. She was completely consumed by the part about the Dragomir line fading into disgrace. It hit too close to the vision sheʹd seen in the test.

  It
was Christian who pulled her back. ʺWell. It would seem Tatiana had enemies. But I guess thatʹs kind of obvious at this point in the game.ʺ

  ʺWhoʹs this from?ʺ demanded Adrian. His face was dark, furious at this thinly veiled threat to his aunt.

  ʺI donʹt know,ʺ said Ambrose. ʺThis is exactly the way I found it. Maybe she didnʹt even know who the sender was.ʺ

  Lissa nodded her agreement. ʺThereʹs certainly an anonymous feel to it . . . and yet, at the same time, I feel like itʹs someone Tatiana must have known well.ʺ

  Adrian gave Ambrose a suspicious look. ʺHow do we know you didnʹt just type this yourself to throw us off?ʺ

  ʺAdrian,ʺ chastised Lissa. She didnʹt say it but was hoping to urge Adrian to feel out Ambroseʹs aura for anything she might not be able to detect.

  ʺThis is crazy,ʺ said Christian, tapping the piece of paper. ʺThe part about rounding up dhampirs and forcing them to be guardians. What do you think that means—the ʺactionsʺ that Tatiana knows about?ʺ

  I knew because Iʹd been tipped off about a lot of this earlier. Compulsion, Tatianaʹs note had said.

  ʺIʹm not sure,ʺ said Lissa. She reread the letter to herself. ʺWhat about the ‘experimentsʹ part? Do you think thatʹs the training sessions Grant did with Moroi?ʺ

  ʺThat was what I thought,ʺ said Ambrose. ʺBut Iʹm not sure.ʺ

  ʺCan we see the rest?ʺ asked Adrian, gesturing to the stack of papers. I couldnʹt tell if his suspicion was legitimate distrust of Ambrose or just the result of how upset his auntʹs murder made him.

  Ambrose handed over the papers, but after going through the pages, Lissa agreed: there was nothing of use in them. The documents mostly consisted of legalese and personal correspondence. It occurred to Lissa—as it had to me—that Ambrose might not be showing everything heʹd found. There was no way to prove that for now. Stifling a yawn, she thanked him and left with the others.

  She was hoping for sleep, but her mind couldnʹt help but analyze the letterʹs possibilities. If it was legitimate.

  ʺThat letterʹs evidence that someone had a lot more reason to be pissed off at Tatiana than Rose did,ʺ observed Christian as they wound their way back upstairs toward the buildingʹs exit. ʺAunt Tasha once said that anger based on calculated reason is more dangerous than anger based on blind hate.ʺ

  ʺYour auntʹs a regular philosopher,ʺ said Adrian wearily. ʺBut everything weʹve got is still circumstantial.ʺ

  Ambrose had let Lissa keep the letter, and sheʹd folded it and put it in her jeans pocket. ʺIʹm curious what Tasha will have to say about this. And Abe too.ʺ She sighed. ʺI wish Grant was still alive. He was a good man—and might have some insight into this.ʺ

  They reached a side exit on the main floor, and Eddie pushed the door open for them. Christian glanced over at Lissa as they stepped outside. ʺHow close were Grant and Serena—ʺ

  Eddie moved a fraction of a second before Lissa saw the problem, but of course, Eddie would have already been watching for problems. A man—a Moroi, actually—had been waiting among trees in the courtyard that separated Ambroseʹs building from the neighboring one. It wasnʹt exactly a secluded spot, but it was far enough off of the main paths that it often stayed deserted.

  The man moved forward and looked startled when he saw Eddie racing toward him. I was able to analyze the fight in a way Lissa couldnʹt. Judging by the manʹs angle and movement, heʹd been heading for Lissa—with a knife in his hand. Lissa froze in fear, an expected reaction for someone not trained to react in this situation. But when Christian jerked her back, she came to life and quickly retreated with him and Adrian.

  The attacker and Eddie were deadlocked for a moment, each trying to take the other down. I heard Lissa yell for help, but my attention was all on the fighters. The guy was strong for a Moroi and his maneuvers suggested heʹd been trained to fight. I doubted, however, that heʹd been trained since elementary school, nor did he have the muscle a dhampir did.

  Sure enough, Eddie broke through and forced the guy to the ground. Eddie reached out to pin the manʹs right hand and get the knife out of the equation. Moroi or not, the man was actually quite skilled with the blade, particularly when I (and probably Eddie too) noticed scarring and what looked like a bent finger on his left hand. The guy had probably gone to great extents to hone his knife-handʹs reflexes. Even restrained, he was still able to snake up with the blade, aiming unhesitatingly for Eddieʹs neck. Eddie was too fast to let that happen and blocked the blow with his arm, which took the bladeʹs cut. Eddieʹs block gave the Moroi a bit more room to move, and he bucked up, throwing Eddie off. Without missing a beat—really, this guy was impressive—the Moroi swung for Eddie again. There could be no doubt about the manʹs intentions. He wasnʹt holding back. He was there to kill. That blade was out for blood. Guardians knew how to subdue and take prisoners, but weʹd also been trained that when things were moving too fast, when it was an us-or-them situation—well, we made sure it was them. Eddie was faster than his opponent and was being driven by instincts pounded into us for years: stop what was trying to kill you. Eddie had no gun or knife, not at Court. When the man came at him a second time, knife again pointed straight at Eddieʹs neck, Eddie used the only weapon left that he could be sure would save his life.

  Eddie staked the Moroi.

  Dimitri had once jokingly commented that you didnʹt have to be Strigoi to be hurt by a stake through your heart. And, letʹs face it, a stake through the heart didnʹt actually hurt. It killed. Tatiana was proof. The manʹs knife actually made contact with Eddieʹs neck—and then fell before piercing skin. The manʹs eyes went wide in shock and pain and then saw nothing at all. He was dead. Eddie leaned back on his heels, staring at his victim with the adrenaline-charged battle lust that followed any situation. Shouting suddenly caught his attention, and he leapt to his feet, ready for the next threat.

  What he found was a group of guardians, ones who had responded to Lissaʹs earlier cries for help. They took one look at the scene and immediately acted on and the conclusions their training drove them to. There was a dead Moroi and someone holding a bloody weapon. The guardians went for Eddie, throwing him against the wall and prying his stake away. Lissa shouted to them that they had it all wrong, that Eddie had saved her life and—

  ʺRose!ʺ

  Dimitriʹs frantic voice shocked me back to the Mastrano house. I was sitting on the bed, and he knelt before me, face full of fear as he gripped my shoulders. ʺRose, whatʹs wrong? Are you okay?ʺ

  ʺNo!ʺ

  I pushed him aside and moved toward the door. ʺI have to—I have to go back to Court. Now. Lissaʹs in danger. She needs me.ʺ

  ʺRose. Roza. Slow down.ʺ Heʹd caught hold of my arm, and there was no escaping from that grip. He turned me so I faced him. His hair was still damp from the shower, and the clean scent of soap and wet skin surrounded us. ʺTell me what happened.ʺ

  I quickly repeated what Iʹd seen. ʺSomeone tried to kill her, Dimitri! And I wasnʹt there!ʺ

  ʺBut Eddie was,ʺ said Dimitri quietly. ʺSheʹs okay. Sheʹs alive.ʺ He released me, and I leaned wearily against the wall. My heart was racing, and even though my friends were safe, I couldnʹt shake my panic.

  ʺAnd now heʹs in trouble. Those guardians were pissed—ʺ

  ʺOnly because they donʹt know the whole story. They see a dead body and a weapon, thatʹs it. Once they get facts and testimonies, everything will be okay. Eddie saved a Moroi. Itʹs his job.ʺ

  ʺBut he killed another Moroi to do it,ʺ I pointed out. ʺWeʹre not supposed to do that.ʺ It sounded like an obvious—and even stupid—statement, but I knew Dimitri understood what I meant. The guardiansʹ purpose was to protect Moroi. They come first. Killing one was unimaginable. But then, so was them trying to kill each other.

  ʺThis wasnʹt a normal situation,ʺ Dimitri affirmed.

  I tipped my head back. ʺI know, I know. I just canʹt stand leaving her undefended. I want so badly to go back and keep her safe. Right now.ʺ Tomorrow seemed ye
ars away. ʺWhat if it happens again?ʺ

  ʺOther people are there to protect her.ʺ Dimitri walked over to me, and I was surprised to see a smile on his lips, in light of the grim events. ʺBelieve me, I want to protect her too, but weʹd risk our lives for nothing if we take off right now. Wait a little longer and at least risk your life for something important.ʺ

  A little of the panic faded. ʺAnd Jill is important, isnʹt she?ʺ

  ʺVery.ʺ

  I straightened up. Part of my brain kept trying to calm me about Lissaʹs attack while the other fully processed what weʹd accomplished here. ʺWe did it,ʺ I said, feeling a smile slowly spread to my own lips. ʺAgainst all reason . . . somehow, we found Lissaʹs lost sister. Do you realize what this means? Lissa can have everything sheʹs entitled to now. They canʹt deny her anything. Hell, she could be queen if she wanted. And Jill . . .ʺ I hesitated. ʺWell, sheʹs part of an ancient royal family. Thatʹs got to be a good thing, right?ʺ

  ʺI think it depends on Jill,ʺ said Dimitri. ʺAnd what the after-effects of all this are.ʺ

  Guilt over potentially ruining Jillʹs life returned, and I stared down at my feet. ʺHey, itʹs okay,ʺ he said, tilting my chin back up. His brown eyes were warm and affectionate. ʺYou did the right thing. No one else would have tried something this impossible. Only Rose Hathaway. You took a gamble to find Jill. You risked your life by breaking Abeʹs rules—and it paid off. It was worth it.ʺ