Last Sacrifice (6)

by Richelle Mead

  ʺOkay, Mr. Enigma. That doesnʹt help explain the ‘right thingʹ comment.ʺ

  Frustration filled his features. ʺRose, Iʹve done a lot of bad things, most of which I can never fix or find redemption for. My only choice now, if I want to reclaim my life, is to go forward, stopping evil and doing whatʹs right. And what is not right is taking a woman from another man, a man I like and respect. Iʹll steal cars. Iʹll break into houses. But there are lines I will not cross, no matter what I—ʺ

  The motelʹs back door opening jolted us to attention. It was no wonder my love life was so messed up when the most profound and intimate moments were always being interrupted by dire situations. It was just as well because I had never, ever seen that line coming: What is not right is taking a woman from another man, a man I like and respect.

  New drama took precedence. Victor stepped outside, with Robert and Jill walking side by side behind him. Iʹd half expected to see her tied up and was surprised that she accompanied them so calmly. Too calmly, I soon realized. It wasnʹt natural. There was an almost robotic feel to her movements: she was being compelled into docility.

  ʺCompulsion,ʺ said Dimitri quietly, recognizing it as well. ʺGo for Victor. Iʹll get Robert.ʺ

  I nodded. ʺJill will run as soon as the compulsionʹs broken. I hope.ʺ I didnʹt put it past her to join our fight, which could cause more harm than good. Weʹd find out soon enough.

  Mercifully, no one else was around. It was still fairly early in the morning. Dimitri and I sprang out from our hiding spots, crossing the distance of the parking lot in a matter of moments. Two healthy dhampirs could outrace two old Moroi any day. And as crafty as they might be, the brothers hadnʹt expected us.

  In my periphery, I just barely saw Dimitri kicking into warrior god mode, fierce and unstoppable. Then, I focused entirely on Victor, throwing my full weight at him and knocking him to the ground. He hit hard against the asphalt, and I pinned him down, slamming my fist into his face and making his nose bleed.

  ʺWell done,ʺ he gasped out.

  ʺIʹve been wanting to do that for a very long time,ʺ I growled.

  Victor smiled through the pain and the blood. ʺOf course you have. I used to think Belikov was the savage one, but itʹs really you, isnʹt it? Youʹre the animal with no control, no higher reasoning except to fight and kill.ʺ

  I clenched his shirt and leaned him over him. ʺMe? Iʹm not the one who tortured Lissa for my own benefit. Iʹm not the one who turned my daughter Strigoi. And Iʹm sure as hell not the one who used compulsion to kidnap a fifteen-year-old girl!ʺ

  To my disgust, he kept that maddening smile on his face. ʺSheʹs valuable, Rose. So, so valuable. You have no idea how much so.ʺ

  ʺSheʹs not an object for you to manipulate!ʺ I cried. ʺSheʹs a—ahh!ʺ

  The ground suddenly rolled up beneath me, a mini-earthquake centered around us. The asphalt bucked up, giving Victor the leverage to push me off. It wasnʹt a strong push, and I could have easily recovered my balance if not for the ground rippling and surrounding me, rolling like ocean waves to knock me over. Victor was using his earth magic to control the area where I stood. Faint cries of surprise told me others were feeling a little of it, but the magic was clearly focused on me.

  Not without cost, though. Victor was an old man—an old man Iʹd just shoved onto asphalt and punched. Pain and fatigue were all over him, and his labored breathing told me wielding magic this powerful—something Iʹd never seen an earth user do—was pushing every ounce of strength he had left.

  One good punch. That was all I needed. One good punch would knock him down and take him out of this fight. Only, I was the one being taken down. Literally. Try as I might, my personal earthquake got the best of me, knocking me to my knees. I was still in that stupid dress too, meaning my newly healed legs got scraped again. And once I was down, the asphalt rose around me. I realized Victor was going to ensnare me by creating a stone prison. I couldnʹt let that happen.

  ʺAll that brawn for nothing,ʺ gasped out Victor, sweat pouring off his face. ʺIt does you no good in the end. Real power is in the mind. In cunning. In controlling Jillian, I control Vasilisa. With Vasilisa, I control the Dragomirs, and from there—the Moroi. Thatʹs power. Thatʹs strength.ʺ

  Most of his smug tirade went over me. But part of it stuck: In controlling Jillian, I control Vasilisa. Lissa. I couldnʹt let him hurt her. I couldnʹt let him use her. In fact, I couldnʹt let him use Jill either. Lissa had given me a chotki, which was kind of a cross between a bracelet and a rosary. It was a Dragomir heirloom, bestowed upon those who protected the family. That was my duty: to protect all the Dragomirs. The old guardian mantra rang in my mind: They come first.

  With skill I didnʹt know I possessed, I sized up the shaking ground and attempted to stand again. I made it, practically dancing in that parking lot. And as I stared at Victor, I felt what Sonya had warned about: the catalyst. The spark that would ignite the darkness Iʹd gathered and gathered from Lissa. In looking at him, I saw all the evils of my life in one man. Was that entirely accurate? No, not exactly. But he had hurt my best friend—nearly killed her. Heʹd toyed with Dimitri and me, complicating what was already a mess of a relationship. He was now trying to control others. When would it end? When would his evil stop? Red and black tinged my vision. I heard a voice call my name—Sonyaʹs, I think. But in that moment, there was nothing else in the world but Victor and my hate for him.

  I sprang at him, fueled by rage and adrenaline, leaping out of the epicenter of shaking ground that threatened to seize me. Once more, I threw myself at him, but we didnʹt hit the ground. Weʹd shifted position slightly, and instead, we hit the concrete wall—with just as much force as I might have thrown a Strigoi. His head bent back at the impact. I heard an odd cracking sound, and Victor slumped to the ground. I immediate dropped down, grabbing his arms and shaking him.

  ʺGet up!ʺ I screamed. ʺGet up and fight me!ʺ But no matter how much I shook him or yelled, Victor would not stand. He wouldnʹt move on his own.

  Hands grabbed me, trying futilely to pull me away. ʺRose—Rose! Stop. Stop this.ʺ

  I ignored the voice, ignored the hands. I was all anger and power, wanting—no, needing—Victor to face me once and for all. Suddenly, a strange sensation crept along me, like fingertips across my skin. Let him go. I didnʹt want to, but for half a second, it seemed like a reasonable idea. I loosened my hold slightly, just enough for those hands to jerk me away. Like that, I snapped out of the haze and realized what had happened. The person whoʹd pulled me was Sonya, and sheʹd used a tiny bit of compulsion to get me away and let go of Victor. She was strong enough in her power that she didnʹt even need eye contact. She held onto me, even though she had to know it was wasted effort.

  ʺI have to stop him,ʺ I said, wriggling from her grasp. ʺHe has to pay.ʺ I reached for him again.

  Sonya gave up on physical restraint, appealing to words instead. ʺRose, he has! Heʹs dead. Canʹt you see that? Dead. Victorʹs dead!ʺ

  No, I didnʹt see that—not at first. All I saw was my blind obsession, my need to get to Victor. But then, her words broke through to me. As I gripped Victor, I felt the limpness in his body. I saw the eyes that looked blankly at . . . nothing. That crazy, churning emotion in me faded, transforming into shock. My grip slackened as I stared at him and truly understood what she had said.

  Understood what I had done.

  Then, I heard a terrible sound. A low wailing broke through the frozen horror in my mind. I glanced back in alarm and saw Dimitri standing with Robert. Robertʹs arms were pinned behind his back as Dimitri effortlessly held him, but the Moroi was doing everything in his power—and failing—to break free. Jill stood nearby, looking uneasily at all of us, confused and afraid.

  ʺVictor! Victor!ʺ

  Robertʹs pleas were muffled by sobs and as useless as my own efforts to get Victor up. I dragged my gaze back down to the body before me, barely believing what I had just done. Iʹd thought the guardians had been cr
azy in their reaction to Eddie killing a Moroi, but now, I was starting to understand. A monster like a Strigoi was one thing. But the life of a person, even a person who—

  ʺGet him out of here!ʺ

  Sonya was so near me that the unexpected exclamation made me wince. Sheʹd been kneeling too but now jumped to her feet, turning toward Dimitri.

  ʺGet him out of here! As far as you can!ʺ

  Dimitri looked surprised, but the powerful command in her voice drove him to instant action. He began dragging Robert away. After a few moments, Dimitri simply opted to toss the man over his shoulder and cart him off. I would have expected cries of protest, but Robert had fallen silent. His eyes were on Victorʹs body—their gaze so sharp, so focused that they seemed like they could burn a hole through someone. Sonya, not having my fanciful impression, thrust herself between the brothers and dropped to the ground again, covering Victorʹs body with her own.

  ʺGet him out of here!ʺ she called again. ʺHeʹs trying to bring Victor back! Heʹll be shadow-kissed!ʺ

  I was still confused and upset, still appalled at what Iʹd done, but the danger of what she said hit me hard. Robert couldnʹt be allowed to bring back Victor back. The brothers were dangerous enough without being bonded. Victor couldnʹt be allowed to summon ghosts the way I could. Victor had to stay dead.

  ʺDoesnʹt he have to touch the body?ʺ I asked.

  ʺTo finish the bond, yes. But he was wielding tons of spirit just now, calling Victorʹs soul back and keeping it around,ʺ she explained.

  When Dimitri and Robert were gone, Sonya told me to help her move the body. Weʹd made too much noise, and it was a wonder no one had come out yet. Jill joined us, and I moved without really being aware of what I was doing. Sonya found the keys to the CR-V on Victor and flattened the backseats to increase the rear cargo space. We crawled into it, the three of us having to hunch down to stay out of sight. We soon heard voices, people coming to see what had happened. I donʹt know long they were in the parking lot, only that they mercifully didnʹt search cars. Honestly? I had few coherent thoughts at all. That rage was gone, but my mind was a mess. I couldnʹt seem to get a hold of anything concrete. I felt sick and just followed Sonyaʹs orders, staying low as I tried not to look at Victorʹs body.

  Even after the voices were gone, she kept us in the car. At last, she exhaled a deep breath and focused on me. ʺRose?ʺ I didnʹt answer right away. ʺRose?ʺ

  ʺYeah?ʺ I asked, voice cracking.

  Her voice was soothing and cajoling. I felt that crawling on my skin again and a need to please her. ʺI need you to look at the dead. Open your eyes to them.ʺ

  The dead? No. My mind felt out of control, and I had enough sense to know bringing ghosts here would be a bad idea. ʺI canʹt.ʺ

  ʺYou can,ʺ she said. ʺIʹll help you. Please.ʺ

  I couldnʹt refuse her compulsion. Expanding my senses, I let down the walls I kept around me. They were the walls that blocked me from the world of the dead and the ghosts that followed me around. Within moments, translucent faces appeared before me, some like normal people and others terrible and ghastly. Their mouths opened, wanting to speak but unable to.

  ʺWhat do you see?ʺ asked Sonya.

  ʺSpirits,ʺ I whispered.

  ʺDo you see Victor?ʺ

  I peered into the swarm of faces, seeking anyone familiar. ʺNo.ʺ

  ʺPush them back,ʺ she said. ʺPut your walls back up.ʺ

  I tried to do as she said, but it was hard. I didnʹt have the will. I felt outside encouragement and realized Sonya was still compelling me. She couldnʹt make the ghosts disappear, but feelings of support and determination strengthened me. I shut out the restless dead.

  ʺHeʹs gone then,ʺ Sonya said. ʺHeʹs either completely consumed by the world of the dead or is wandering as a restless spirit. Regardless, any lingering threads to life are gone. He canʹt come back to life.ʺ She turned to Jill. ʺGo get Dimitri.ʺ

  ʺI donʹt know where he is,ʺ said Jill, startled.

  Sonya smiled, but it didnʹt reach her eyes. ʺClose, Iʹm sure. And watching. Go walk around the motel, the block, whatever. Heʹll find you.ʺ

  Jill left, needing no compulsion. When she was gone, I buried my face in my hands. ʺOh God. Oh God. All this time, I denied it, but itʹs true: I am a murderer.ʺ

  ʺDonʹt think about that yet,ʺ said Sonya. Her take-charge attitude was almost comforting. Almost. It was easier to take orders than fend for yourself. ʺDeal with your guilt later. For now, we have to get rid of the body.ʺ

  I uncovered my eyes and forced myself to look at Victor. Nausea welled up within me, and those crazy feelings spun even more out of control. I gave a harsh laugh. ʺYes. The body. I wish Sydney was here. But we donʹt have any magic potions. The sun wonʹt destroy him. Weird, isnʹt it? Strigoi are harder to kill . . . harder to kill, easier to clean up.ʺ I laughed again because there was something familiar about my rambling . . . it was like Adrian in one of his weird moments. Or Lissa when spirit had pushed her to the edge. ʺThis is it, isnʹt it?ʺ I asked Sonya. ʺThe flood . . . the flood you warned me about. Lissa escaped spirit, but it finally defeated me . . . just like Anna . . . just like the dream . . . oh God. This is the dream, isnʹt it? But I wonʹt wake up . . .ʺ

  Sonya was staring at me, her blue eyes wide with . . . fear? Mockery? Alarm? She reached out and took my hand. ʺStay with me, Rose. Weʹll push it back.ʺ

  A knock at the window startled us both, and Sonya let Jill and Dimitri in.

  ʺWhereʹs Robert?ʺ asked Sonya.

  Dimitri glanced down at Victor and then promptly looked away. ʺUnconscious, hidden in some bushes around the corner.ʺ

  ʺCharming,ʺ said Sonya. ʺDo you think thatʹs smart? Leaving him?ʺ

  He shrugged. ʺI figured I shouldnʹt be seen carrying an unconscious guy in my arms. In fact . . . yes, I think we should just leave him there. Heʹll wake up. Heʹs not a fugitive. And without Victor, heʹs . . . well, not harmless. But less harmful. We canʹt keep dragging him with us anyway.ʺ

  I laughed again, that laugh that seemed unhinged and hysterical even to me. ʺHeʹs unconscious. Of course. Of course. You can do that. You can do the right thing. Not me.ʺ I looked down at Victor. ʺ‘An animal,ʹ he said. He was right. No higher reasoning . . .ʺ I wrapped my arms around myself, my fingernails digging into my skin so hard they drew blood. Physical pain to make the mental pain go away. Wasnʹt that what Lissa had always said?

  Dimitri stared at me and then turned to Sonya. ʺWhatʹs wrong?ʺ he demanded. Iʹd seen him risk his life over and over, but never, until now, had he truly looked afraid.

  ʺSpirit,ʺ said Sonya. ʺSheʹs pulled and pulled for so long . . . and managed to hold it back. Itʹs been waiting, though. Always waiting . . .ʺ She frowned slightly, maybe realizing she was starting to sound like me. She turned to Jill. ʺIs that silver?ʺ

  Jill looked down at the heart-shaped locket around her neck. ʺI think so.ʺ

  ʺCan I have it?ʺ

  Jill undid the clasp and passed it over. Sonya held it between her palms and closed her eyes a moment, pursing her lips. A few seconds later, her eyes opened, and she handed me the locket. ʺPut it on.ʺ

  Just touching it gave me a strange tingling in my skin. ʺThe heart . . .ʺ I looked at Dimitri as I fastened the clasp. ʺDo you remember that? ‘Whereʹs the heart?ʹ you asked. And here it is. Here it . . .ʺ

  I stopped. The world suddenly became crisper. My jumbled thoughts slowly began to move back together, forming some semblance of rationality. I stared at my companions—the living ones—truly seeing them now. I touched the locket.

  ʺThis is a healing charm.ʺ

  Sonya nodded. ʺI didnʹt know if itʹd work on the mind. I donʹt think itʹs a permanent fix . . . but between it and your own will, youʹll be okay for a while.ʺ

  I tried not to focus on those last words. For a while. Instead, I tried to make sense of the world around me. Of the body in front of me.

  ʺWhat have I done?ʺ I whispered.

>   Jill put her arm around me, but it was Dimitri who spoke.

  ʺWhat you had to.ʺ

  TWENTY-NINE

  THE EVENTS THAT FOLLOWED were a blur. Sonya might have kept spiritʹs touch at bay, but it didnʹt matter. I was still in shock, still unable to think. They put me in the front seat, as far from Victor as possible. Dimitri drove us somewhere—I didnʹt pay much attention—where he and Sonya disposed of the body. They didnʹt say what they did, only that it was ʺtaken care of.ʺ I didnʹt ask for details.

  After that, we were back and headed toward Court. Sonya and Dimitri tossed around options on what to do when we got there. Seeing as no one had yet cleared my name, the current plan was that Sonya would have to escort Jill into Court. Jill asked if she could call her parents to let them know she was okay, but Dimitri felt that was a security risk. Sonya said sheʹd try to reach Emily in a dream, which made Jill feel a little better.

  I coped during the drive by checking in on Lissa. Focusing on her took me away from the horrible guilt and emptiness I felt, the horror at what Iʹd done to Victor. When I was with Lissa, I wasnʹt me, and just then, that was my greatest desire. I didnʹt want to be me.

  But things werenʹt perfect for her either. Like always, a number of issues were weighing her down. She felt close—so, so close—to unraveling who had killed Tatiana. The answer seemed within her grasp, if only she could reach just a little farther. The guardians had dragged Joe the janitor in, and after a fair amount of coercion—they had methods that didnʹt require magical compulsion—heʹd admitted to having seen the twisted-handed Moroi in my building on the night of the murder. No amount of pushing would get Joe to admit he had been paid off—by either the man or Daniella. The most heʹd admit was that he might have been ʺa little offʺ in his times that night. It was by no means hard evidence to save me.

  Lissa had Ambroseʹs letter too, which had subtly threatened Tatiana. The writer had opposed the age law for being soft, disapproved of Tatianaʹs endorsement of spirit, and resented the secret training sessions. The letter might have been perfectly polite, but whoever penned it had had a serious grudge against the queen. That supported the political motive theories.