Last Sacrifice (6)

by Richelle Mead

  ʺI just said—ʺ

  ʺNo. Itʹs not the same. Youʹre telling me to forgive myself and move on. But you wonʹt do it yourself. Youʹre a hypocrite, comrade. Weʹre either both guilty or both innocent. Pick.ʺ

  He rose as well, looking down at me from that lofty height. ʺItʹs not that simple.ʺ

  I crossed my arms over my chest, refusing to be intimidated. ʺIt is that simple. Weʹre the same! Even Sonya says we are. Weʹve always been the same, and weʹre both acting the same stupid way now. We hold ourselves up to a higher standard than everyone else.ʺ

  Dimitri frowned. ʺI—Sonya? What does she have to do with any of this?ʺ

  ʺShe said our auras match. She said we light up around each other. She says it means you still love me and that weʹre in sync, and . . .ʺ I sighed and turned away, wandering across the room. ʺI donʹt know. I shouldnʹt have mentioned it. We shouldnʹt buy into this aura stuff when it comes from magic users who are already half-insane.ʺ

  I reached the window and leaned my forehead against the cool glass, trying to decide what to do. Forgive myself. Could I? A small city sprawled before me, though Iʹd lost track of where we were. Cars and people moved below, souls out living their lives. I took a deep breath. The image of Victor on the asphalt was going to stay with me for a long, long time. I had done something horrible, even if my intentions were good, but everyone was right: I hadnʹt been myself. Did that change what had happened? Would that bring Victor back? No. And honestly, I didnʹt know how I would move past what Iʹd done, how Iʹd shake the bloody images in my head. I just knew I had to go on.

  ʺIf I let this stop me,ʺ I murmured, ʺif I do nothing . . . then thatʹs the greater evil. Iʹll do more good by surviving. By continuing to fight and protect others.ʺ

  ʺWhat are you saying?ʺ asked Dimitri.

  ʺIʹm saying . . . I forgive myself. That doesnʹt make everything perfect, but itʹs a start.ʺ My fingertip traced the line of a tiny crack in the glassʹs surface. ʺWho knows? Maybe that outburst in the parking lot let out some of the darkness Sonya says is in my aura. Skeptic that I am, I have to give her some points. She was right that I was at a breaking point, that all I needed was a spark.ʺ

  ʺShe was right about something else too,ʺ Dimitri said after a long pause. My back was to him, but there was a strange quality to his voice that made me turn around.

  ʺWhatʹs that?ʺ I asked.

  ʺThat I do still love you.ʺ

  With that one sentence, everything in the universe changed.

  Time slowed to one heartbeat. The world became his eyes, his voice. This wasnʹt happening. It wasnʹt real. None of it could be real. It felt like a spirit dream. I resisted the urge to close my eyes and see if Iʹd wake up moments later. No. No matter how unbelievable it all seemed, this was no dream. This was real. This was life. This was flesh and blood.

  ʺSince . . . since when?ʺ I finally managed to ask.

  ʺSince . . . forever.ʺ His tone implied the answer was obvious. ʺI denied it when I was restored. I had no room for anything in my heart except guilt. I especially felt guilty about you—what Iʹd done—and I pushed you away. I put up a wall to keep you safe. It worked for a while—until my heart finally started accepting other emotions. And it all came back. Everything I felt for you. It had never left; it was just hidden from me until I was ready. And again . . . that alley was the turning point. I looked at you . . . saw your goodness, your hope, and your faith. Those are what make you beautiful. So, so beautiful.ʺ

  ʺSo it wasnʹt my hair,ʺ I said, unsure how I was even capable of making a joke at a time like this.

  ʺNo,ʺ he said gently. ʺYour hair was beautiful too. All of you. You were amazing when we first met, and somehow, inexplicably, youʹve come even farther. Youʹve always been pure, raw energy, and now you control it. Youʹre the most amazing woman Iʹve ever met, and Iʹm glad to have had that love for you in my life. I regret losing it.ʺ He grew pensive. ʺI would give anything—anything—in the world to go back and change history. To run into your arms after Lissa brought me back. To have a life with you. Itʹs too late, of course, but Iʹve accepted it.ʺ

  ʺWhy . . . why is it too late?ʺ

  Dimitriʹs eyes grew sad. ʺBecause of Adrian. Because youʹve moved on. No, listen,ʺ he said, cutting off my protests. ʺYou were right to do that after how I treated you. And more than anything else, I want you to be happy once we clear your name and get Jill recognized. You said yourself that Adrian makes you happy. You said you love him.ʺ

  ʺBut . . . you just said you love me. That you want to be with me.ʺ My words seemed clumsy, unworthy of his eloquence.

  ʺAnd I told you: Iʹm not going to pursue another manʹs girlfriend. You want to talk honor? There it is in its purest form.ʺ

  I walked toward him, each step ramping up the tension around us. Dimitri kept saying the alley was his turning point. For me? It was now. I stood on the precipice of something that would change my life. For the last week, Iʹd done a very good job of detaching myself from anything romantic with Dimitri. And yet . . . had I? What was love, really? Flowers, chocolate, and poetry? Or was it something else? Was it being able to finish someoneʹs jokes? Was it having absolute faith that someone was there at your back? Was it knowing someone so well that they instantly understood why you did the things you did—and shared those same beliefs?

  All week, Iʹd claimed my love for Dimitri was fading. In reality, it had been growing more and more. I hadnʹt even realized it was happening. I had been re-establishing our old rapport, strengthening the connection. Reaffirming that of all the people in the world—even Lissa—Dimitri was the only one who truly got me.

  Iʹd meant it: I loved Adrian. It was hard to imagine life without him, but my other words at the Mastranosʹ had betrayed me: I have fun with him. Now, you should have fun with the one you love, but that shouldnʹt have been what first came to mind. I should have said, We strengthen each other. Or, He makes me want to be a better person. Perhaps most importantly: He understands me perfectly.

  But none of that was true, so I hadnʹt said those things. Iʹd sought Adrian for comfort. His familiarity and humor were an important part of my world. And if he was in danger? Iʹd throw my life before his, just as I would for Lissa. Yet, I didnʹt inspire him, not really. He was trying. He did want to be a better person, but at this moment in his life, his motivations were more about impressing others—about impressing me. It wasnʹt for himself. That didnʹt make him bad or weak, but it made me his crutch. He would get past that, I was certain. He would eventually come into his own and be an amazing man, but he wasnʹt at that point of self-discovery yet. I was.

  I stood in front of Dimitri now, looking into those dark eyes again, the eyes I loved so much. I placed my hands on his chest, feeling his heart beating strong and steady—and maybe a bit faster than normal. Warmth spread through my fingertips. He reached up and caught hold of my wrists but didnʹt push me away. The lines of that gorgeous face looked strained as he fought some inner conflict, but now that I knew—now that I knew for sure—I could see his love for me. Love mingled with desire. It was so, so obvious.

  ʺYou should have told me,ʺ I said. ʺYou should have told me this a long time ago. I love you. Iʹve never stopped loving you. You have to know that.ʺ

  His breath caught when I said I love you, and I could see his internal struggle for control become an all-out war. ʺIt wouldnʹt have made any difference. Not with Adrian involved,ʺ he said. The fingers around my hand tightened slightly as though he really might push me away this time. He didnʹt. ʺI mean it. I wonʹt be that guy, Rose. I wonʹt be that man who takes someone elseʹs woman. Now, please. Let go. Donʹt make this any more difficult.ʺ

  I ignored the request. If heʹd wanted to get away from me, he could have. I splayed my fingers, touching more of his chest, drinking in the feel of that warm contact Iʹd missed for so long.

  ʺI donʹt belong to him,ʺ I said in a low voice, pushing close to Dimitri and tilting my head back so that I c
ould see his face clearly. So much emotion, so much conflict as his heart tried to decide right from wrong. Being pressed against him felt like . . . completion. Sonya had said no couple could share one aura or one soul, but ours werenʹt meant to be apart. They fit together like a puzzle, two individuals making something greater than themselves. ʺI donʹt belong to anyone. I make my own choices.ʺ

  ʺAnd youʹre with Adrian,ʺ said Dimitri.

  ʺBut I was meant for you.ʺ

  And that did it. Any pretense of control or reason either of us possessed melted away. The walls crumbled, and everything weʹd been holding back from each other came rushing out. I reached up, pulling us together for a kiss—a kiss he didnʹt let go this time. A kiss I didnʹt end by punching him. His arms encircled me as he lifted me onto the bed, one hand soon sliding along my hip and down to my leg, already half-bare, thanks to that poor tattered dress.

  Every nerve in my body lit up, and I felt that desire returned in him—and then some. After a world of death, he seemed to appreciate love more. Not only that, he needed it. He needed life. He needed me—not just physically, but in the same way my heart and soul always cried out for him. What we did then, as our clothes came off and we brought our bodies together became more than just lust—even though there was plenty of that too.

  Being with him after so long, after everything weʹd endured . . . it was like coming home. Like finally being where—with whom—I belonged. My world, my heart . . . theyʹd shattered when I lost him. But as he looked at me, as his lips spoke my name and ran along my skin . . . I knew those pieces could come back together. And I knew, with absolute certainty, that waiting for this—for my second time having sex—had been the right thing to do. Anyone else, any other time . . . it would have been wrong.

  When we finished, it was like we still couldnʹt get close enough. We held each other tightly, our limbs entwined, as though maybe closing the distance now would make up for the distance that had been between us for so long.

  I closed my eyes, my senses flooded with him, and sighed dreamily. ʺIʹm glad you gave in. Iʹm glad your self-control isnʹt as strong as mine.ʺ

  This made him laugh, and I felt it rumble through his chest. ʺRoza, my self-control is ten times stronger than yours.ʺ

  I opened my eyes, shifting to look into his. I brushed his hair back and smiled, certain my heart would expand and expand until there was nothing left of me. ʺOh yeah? Thatʹs not the impression I just got.ʺ

  ʺWait until next time,ʺ he warned. ʺIʹll do things thatʹll make you lose control within seconds.ʺ

  That comment was just asking for a witty Rose Hathaway quip. It also made my blood burn, which was why we were both surprised when I abruptly said, ʺThere may not be a next time.ʺ

  Dimitriʹs hand, tracing the shape of my shoulder, froze. ʺWhat? Why?ʺ

  ʺWe have a couple of things to do before this happens again.ʺ

  ʺAdrian,ʺ he guessed.

  I nodded. ʺAnd thatʹs my problem, so put your honor-able thoughts aside. I have to face him and answer for this. I will. And you . . .ʺ I couldnʹt believe what I was about to say. I couldnʹt believe I meant it. ʺYou still have to forgive yourself if weʹre going to be together.ʺ

  His puzzled expression turned to pain. ʺRose—ʺ

  ʺIʹm serious.ʺ I met his eyes unflinchingly. ʺYou have to forgive yourself. For real. Everyone else has. If you canʹt, then you canʹt go on either. We canʹt.ʺ

  It was one of the biggest gambles of my life. Once, I would have run to him without question, ignoring our problems, overjoyed just to be with him. Now . . . after everything Iʹd been through, Iʹd changed. I loved him. I loved him so much, and I wanted him. But it was because of the strength of that love that I had to do this. If were going to be together, we had to do it the right way. Sex had been amazing, but it wasnʹt a magical cure for everything. Damn. Somewhere along the way, Iʹd picked up common sense. I still intended to confront Adrian. And if Dimitri wouldnʹt do what I asked, I really would walk away. Iʹd lose both men, but it was better to be alone with my self-respect than be in the wrong relationship.

  ʺI donʹt know,ʺ Dimitri said at last. ʺI donʹt know if I can . . . if Iʹm ready.ʺ

  ʺDecide soon then,ʺ I said. ʺYou donʹt have to right this second, but eventually . . .ʺ

  I didnʹt push the topic after that. For now, I would let it go, though I knew he would hold onto it and grasp its importance. I knew I was right to stand by it too. He couldnʹt be happy with me if he wasnʹt happy with himself. It occurred to me then, as I stood up for myself and what I needed, that our old teacher-student roles were gone forever. Now we really were equals.

  I rested my head on his chest and felt him relax. Weʹd bask in this moment, if only for a little longer. Sonya had said we needed ʺrest,ʺ making me think we still had some time here before the ticking clock drove us back to Court. As Dimitri and I continued to keep close to one another, I found myself actually wanting to sleep. I was exhausted from the fight—which, I realized, had taken a very unexpected turn. My guilt and despair over Victor and the explosion of spirit had taken their toll too, no matter the healing locket still around my neck. And yes, I thought with a small smile, I was simply exhausted from what Dimitri and I had just done. It was kind of nice to use my body for something that didnʹt result in serious injury for a change.

  I fell asleep in his embrace, blackness wrapping around me as warmly as his arms. It should have been that simple. It should have been peaceful, happy rest. But as usual, I wasnʹt that lucky.

  A spirit dream pulled me from the enveloping depths of sleep, and for half a second, I thought maybe Robert Doru had come for me to take revenge for his brotherʹs death.

  But, no. No vindictive Dashkov. Instead, I found myself staring into a pair of emerald-green eyes.

  Adrian.

  THIRTY

  I DIDNʹT RUN INTO HIS arms like I usually did. How could I? After what Iʹd done? No. I couldnʹt playact anymore. I still wasnʹt entirely sure what the future held for Dimitri and me, not until he answered my ultimatum. I did, however, know I had to cut Adrian loose. My feelings for him were still strong, and I wondered if it was even remotely possible for us to be friends. Regardless, I couldnʹt lead him on after sleeping with Dimitri. It hadnʹt been murder, no, but it had certainly been dishonorable.

  Yet . . . I couldnʹt say any of that to Adrian now, I realized. I couldnʹt break up with him in a dream. That was almost as bad as a text breakup. Besides, I had a feeling that . . . well, Iʹd probably need his help. So much for honor. Soon, I swore. Soon Iʹll tell him.

  He didnʹt seem to notice my lack of embrace. But he did notice something else.

  ʺWow.ʺ

  We stood in St. Vladimirʹs library of all places, and I gave him a puzzled look across the study tables stretching before us. ʺWow what?ʺ

  ʺYour . . . your aura. Itʹs . . . amazing. Itʹs shining. I mean, it always shines, but today . . . well, Iʹve never seen anything like it. I didnʹt expect that after everything that happened.ʺ

  I shifted uncomfortably. If I lit up around Dimitri normally, what on earth happened to my aura post-sex? ʺAfter what happened?ʺ I asked, deflecting the comment.

  He chuckled and approached me. His hand reached unconsciously for his cigarettes, paused, and then dropped to his side. ʺOh, come on. Everyoneʹs talking about it. How you and Belikov kidnapped Jailbait—whatʹs up with that anyway?—and coerced that Alchemist. Itʹs the hottest news around here. Well, aside from the elections. The last test is coming up.ʺ

  ʺThatʹs right . . .ʺ I murmured. It had almost been twenty-four hours since Lissa had received the riddle. There was only a little time left, and last I knew, she had no answer.

  ʺWhy are you sleeping in the middle of the day anyway?ʺ he asked. ʺI didnʹt really expect to catch you. Figured youʹd be on a human schedule.ʺ

  ʺIt . . . it was kind of a rough night, what with escaping a legion of guardians and all.ʺ

  Adrian caught hold
of my hand, frowning slightly when I didnʹt squeeze his in return. The frown lightened quickly into his easy smile. ʺWell, Iʹd worry more about your old man than them. He is pissed that you didnʹt stay put. And that he canʹt get in to see the Alchemists. Believe me, heʹs been trying.ʺ

  That almost made me laugh, except it wasnʹt the outcome Iʹd wanted either. ʺSo heʹs not all-powerful after all.ʺ I sighed. ʺThatʹs what we need. Sydney. Or, well, that guy whoʹs with her. The one who allegedly knows something.ʺ I flashed back, again seeing the recognition on Ianʹs face. He knows the man who attacked Lissa and bribed Joe. ʺWe need him.ʺ

  ʺFrom what I picked up,ʺ said Adrian, ʺthe guardians are just kind of lingering around the hotel, mostly concerned with the Alchemists leaving. But theyʹre controlling whoʹs getting in. They wonʹt let any of us—or other Alchemists—get through. There are lots of other human guests, and I guess Abe tried to disguise himself—and failed.ʺ

  Poor Zmey. ʺHe should have had more faith in the guardians. They arenʹt going to let anyone but themselves get in and out.ʺ My own words brought me to a halt. ʺThatʹs it . . .ʺ

  Adrian eyed me suspiciously. ʺOh no. I know that look. Something crazy is about to happen.ʺ

  I caught hold of his hand, now out of excitement, rather than love. ʺGet to Mikhail. Have him meet us . . .ʺ I blanked. Iʹd seen the town the Alchemists were staying in. As the closest to Court, we often drove through it. I racked my brain, trying to think of some detail. ʺAt that restaurant with the red sign. Itʹs on the far side. Always advertising buffets.ʺ

  ʺEasier said than done, little dhampir. Theyʹre using every guardian at Court to keep the elections under control. If Lissa hadnʹt been attacked, they wouldnʹt let your mom stay with her. I donʹt think Mikhail can get out.ʺ

  ʺHeʹll find a way,ʺ I said confidently. ʺTell him this is it—itʹs the key to the murder. The answer. Heʹs resourceful.ʺ

  Adrian looked skeptical, but it was hard for him to refuse me anything. ʺWhen?ʺ