I swallowed. Iʹd thought getting evidence would be the hard part. It was nothing compared to revealing it. ʺWhat Iʹm saying has nothing to do with Strigoi. I almost wish it did. You hated Tatiana for her age law and refusal to let Moroi fight.ʺ Another memory came to me, when Tasha had learned about the secret training sessions. Tasha had been aghast with what I now suspected might have been guilt at misjudging the queen.
The crowd was riveted and stunned, but one person came to life: an Ozera I didnʹt know but who apparently had family solidarity on his mind. He stood up, crossing his arms defiantly. ʺHalf this Court hated Tatiana for that law. You among them.ʺ
ʺI didnʹt have my bodyguard bribe a witness or attack Lis—Princess Dragomir. And donʹt pretend you didnʹt know the guy,ʺ I warned her. ʺHe was your bodyguard. You were seen together.ʺ Ianʹs description of her when she visited St. Louis had been perfectly clear: long black hair, pale blue eyes, and scarring on one side of her face.
ʺRose, I canʹt even believe this is happening, but if James—that was his name—did whatever youʹre talking about, then he acted alone. He always had radical ideas. I knew that when I hired him as outside protection, but I never thought he was capable of murder.ʺ She glanced around, looking for someone in charge, and finally settled on the Council. ʺIʹve always believed Rose was innocent. If James is the one responsible for this, then Iʹm more than happy to tell you whatever I know to clear Roseʹs name.ʺ
So, so easy. The mystery Moroi—James—was almost everywhere Tasha had been. Heʹd also been spotted in suspicious situations where she hadnʹt been—like Joeʹs bribery and Lissaʹs attack. I could save Tasha and just blame it all on him. He was already dead. Tasha and I could stay friends. Sheʹd acted on principle, right? What was wrong with that?
Christian stood up beside her, looking at me like I was a stranger. ʺRose, how can you say any of this? You know her. You know she wouldnʹt do it. Stop making a scene and let us figure out how that James guy killed the queen.ʺ
So, so easy. Blame the dead man.
ʺJames couldnʹt have staked Tatiana,ʺ I said. ʺHe had an injured hand. It takes both hands for a Moroi to stake someone. Iʹve seen it happen twice now. And I bet if you can get a straight answer out of Ethan Moore . . .ʺ I glanced over at the guardian who had gone pale. He could probably jump into a fight and kill without hesitation. But this kind of scrutiny? And eventual interrogation by his peers? I didnʹt think heʹd hold up. It was probably the reason Tasha had been able to manipulate him. ʺJames wasnʹt there the night Tatiana died, was he? And I donʹt think Daniella Ivashkov was either, despite what Princess Dragomir was told earlier. But Tasha was. She was in the queenʹs chambers—and you didnʹt report it.ʺ
Ethan looked like he wanted to bolt, but his odds of escape were about as good as mine and Dimitriʹs. He slowly shook his head. ʺTasha wouldnʹt kill anyone.ʺ Not exactly the confirmation of her location I wanted—but close. The guardians would get more out of him later.
ʺRose!ʺ Christian was pissed off now. Seeing him look at me with such outrage hurt even more than Tashaʹs expression. ʺStop it!ʺ
Lissa took a few hesitant steps forward. I could feel in her mind that she didnʹt want to believe what I was saying either . . . yet she still trusted me. She thought of a controversial solution. ʺI know itʹs wrong . . . but if we used compulsion on the suspects . . .ʺ
ʺDonʹt even suggest that!ʺ exclaimed Tasha, turning her sharp eyes on Lissa. ʺStay out of this. Your futureʹs on the line here. A future that could make you great and achieve the things our people need.ʺ
ʺA future you could manipulate,ʺ I realized. ʺLissa believes in a lot of the reforms you do . . . and you think you could convince her of ones she doesnʹt. Especially if sheʹs with your nephew. Thatʹs why youʹve fought so hard to change the quorum law. You wanted her to be queen.ʺ
Christian started to step forward, but Tasha laid a restraining hand on his shoulder. It didnʹt stop him from speaking. ʺThatʹs idiotic. If she wanted Lissa to be queen, why make that James guy attack her?ʺ
That was a mystery for me too, one of the holes I hadnʹt quite figured out. But Dimitri had. Conscious of his two guards, he shifted closer to me.
ʺBecause no one was supposed to die.ʺ Dimitriʹs low, resonant voice sounded wonderful with the roomʹs acoustics. He needed no microphone as he directed his words to Tasha. ʺYou didnʹt expect a guardian to be with her.ʺ He was right, I realized. Eddie had been drafted that night under weird circumstances and only barely made it back in time to see Ambrose with Lissa. ʺJames was probably going to fake an attack and run . . . enough to generate sympathy and more support for Vasilisa. Which it certainly did—just a little more severely.ʺ
The outrage on Tashaʹs face transformed to something I couldnʹt entirely gauge right away. Sheʹd seemed offended at my accusations, but from Dimitri—it was more. She looked legitimately hurt. Crushed. I knew that look. Iʹd seen it on Adrianʹs face a couple hours ago.
ʺDimka, not you too,ʺ she said.
Through Lissaʹs eyes, I watched the colors of Tashaʹs aura shift, burn a little brighter as she gazed at Dimitri. I could see exactly what Sonya had explained to me, how the aura showed affection.
ʺAnd thatʹs why I took the fall,ʺ I murmured softly. No one but Dimitri and our guardians heard me.
ʺHmm?ʺ Dimitri asked.
I just shook my head. All this time, Tasha had still loved Dimitri. I knew she had last year, when sheʹd made him an offer to hook up and have kids—not something a lot of dhampir men had the chance to get. Heʹd refused, and I thought she had accepted simply being friends with him. She hadnʹt. Sheʹd still loved him. When Lissa had revealed my relationship with Dimitri to Hans, Tasha had already known. But for how long? I wasnʹt sure. Sheʹd obviously known about the relationship before killing Tatiana, and putting the murder on me left Tasha free and clear and opened back up her chances with Dimitri.
There was no point in bringing up her personal motives for blaming me. Tatianaʹs murder was the real issue at stake. I just looked at Hans. ʺYou can take me into custody, I meant it. But donʹt you think youʹve got enough to take her—and Ethan—in too?ʺ
Hansʹs face was unreadable. His feelings toward me had always gone back and forth, since the day we met. Sometimes I was a troublemaker without a future. Other times I had the potential to be a leader. Heʹd believed I was a murderer, yet heʹd still allowed me to address the crowd. He didnʹt really like my friends either. What would he do now?
He lifted his eyes from my face and looked to where several guardians were stationed in the audience, ready for any action. He gave a curt nod. ʺTake Lady Ozera. And Moore. Weʹll question them.ʺ
Seeing as Tasha was seated amidst other people, there was a bit of fear and panic when four guardians moved toward her. They avoided injuring other audience members as much as possible, but there was still plenty of pushing and shoving. What came as a total surprise was how fiercely Tasha fought back. She was trained, I remembered. Not in the same way guardians were, but enough to make it hard to get a hold of her. She could kick and punch—and stake queens—and even managed to knock one guardian down.
She might actually try to fight her way out of here, I realized—though I didnʹt believe for an instant she could. It was too crowded and chaotic. Guardians were heading toward the fray. Terrified Moroi were trying to get away from the fight. Everybody seemed to be getting in everyone elseʹs way. Suddenly, a loud crack echoed through the room. A gunshot. Most of the Moroi dropped to the floor, though guardians kept coming. Holding a handgun she must have seized from the guardian sheʹd knocked over, Tasha grabbed the first Moroi she could with her free hand. So help me, it was Mia Rinaldi. Sheʹd been sitting near Christian. I didnʹt think Tasha even noticed her hostage choice.
ʺDonʹt move!ʺ Tasha yelled at the encroaching guardians. The gun was at Miaʹs head, and I felt my heart stop. How had things escalated to this point? Iʹd never foreseen this. My task was supposed to be neat and t
idy. Reveal Tasha. Put her away. Done.
The guardians froze, less because of her command and more because they were sizing up how to deal with the total threat. Meanwhile, Tasha began to slowly—very slowly—make her way toward the exit, dragging Mia along. Her progress was slow and unwieldy, thanks to all the chairs and people in the way. The delay gave the guardians time to solve this ugly dilemma. They come first. Miaʹs life—a Moroi life—was on the line. The guardians didnʹt want Mia killed, but a gun-toting warrior Moroi also couldnʹt be allowed to go free.
The thing was, Tasha wasnʹt the only warrior Moroi in the room. She had probably picked the worst hostage possible, and I could tell by the glint in Miaʹs eyes that she was not going to go quietly. Lissa realized this too. One or both of them were going to get killed, and Lissa couldnʹt let that happen. If she could get Tasha to look at her, she could compel her into submission.
No, no, no, I thought. I didnʹt need another friend involved.
Both Lissa and I saw Mia tensing to break her way out of Tashaʹs hold. Lissa realized she had to act now. I could feel it through the bond. I could feel her thoughts, the decision, even the way her bodyʹs muscles and nerves moved forward to get Tashaʹs attention. I felt it all so clearly, as if we shared the same body. I knew where Lissa would move before she even did.
ʺTasha, please donʹt—ʺ
Lissa sprang forward, her plaintive cry interrupted as Mia kicked back at Tasha and broke away, slipping down out of the gunʹs reach. Tasha, startled on two fronts, still had her gun pointed out. With Mia out of her grasp and everything happening so fast, Tasha frantically fired off a couple shots at the first threat moving toward her—which wasnʹt the rapidly approaching guardians. It was a slim figure in white who had shouted at Tasha.
Or, well, it would have been. Like I said, Iʹd known exactly where Lissa would step and what she would do. And in those precious seconds before she acted, I broke out of my captorsʹ hold and threw myself before Lissa. Someone leapt after me, but they were too late. That was when Tashaʹs gun had gone off. I felt a biting and burning in my chest, and then there was nothing but pain—a pain so complete and so intense it was almost beyond comprehension.
I felt myself falling, felt Lissa catching me and yelling something—maybe to me, maybe to someone else. There was so much commotion in the room that I didnʹt know what had happened with Tasha. There was just me and the pain that my mind was trying to block out. The world seemed to grow quieter and quieter. I saw Lissa looking down on me, shouting something I couldnʹt hear. She was beautiful. Brilliant. Crowned in light . . . but there was darkness closing in around her. And in that darkness, I saw the faces . . . the ghosts and spirits that always followed me. Thicker they grew, closing in. Beckoning.
A gun. I had been brought down by a gun. It was practically comical. Cheaters, I thought. Iʹd spent my life focusing on hand-to-hand combat, learning to dodge fangs and powerful hands that could snap my neck. A gun? It was so . . . well, easy. Should I be insulted? I didnʹt know. Did it matter? I didnʹt know that either. All I knew in that moment was that I was going to die, regardless.
My vision was growing dimmer, the blackness and ghosts closing in, and I swore, it was like I could hear Robert whispering in my ear: The world of the dead wonʹt give you up a second time.
Just before the light completely vanished, I saw Dimitriʹs face join Lissaʹs. I wanted to smile. I decided then that if the two people I loved most were safe, I could leave this world. The dead could finally have me. And Iʹd fulfilled my purpose, right? To protect? Iʹd done it. Iʹd saved Lissa, just like Iʹd sworn Iʹd always do. I was dying in battle. No appointment books for me.
Lissaʹs face shone with tears, and I hoped that mine conveyed how much I loved her. With the last spark of life I had left, I tried to speak, tried to let Dimitri know I loved him too and that he had to protect her now. I donʹt think he understood, but the words of the guardian mantra were my last conscious thought.
They come first.
THIRTY-FOUR
I DIDNʹT WAKE UP IN the world of the dead.
I didnʹt even wake up in a hospital or some other type of medical center—which, believe me, Iʹd done plenty of times. No, I woke up in luxury, in a huge bedroom with gilded furniture. Heaven? Probably not with my behaviors. My canopied bed had a red-and-gold velvet comforter, thick enough to be a mattress itself. Candles flickered on a small table against the far wall and filled the room with the scent of jasmine. I had no clue where I was or how Iʹd gotten here, but as my last memories of pain and darkness played out in my mind, I decided the fact that I was actually breathing was good enough.
ʺSleeping Beauty awakens.ʺ
That voice . . . that wonderful, honey-like voice with its soft accent. It enveloped me, and with it came the impossible truth and its full impact: I was alive. I was alive. And Dimitri was here.
I couldnʹt see him but felt a smile come to my lips. ʺAre you my nurse?ʺ
I heard him get up from a chair and walk over. Seeing him stand over me like that reminded me of just how tall he truly was. He looked down at me with a smile of his own—one of those full and rare smiles. He had cleaned up since last Iʹd seen him, his brown hair tied neatly back behind his neck, though he hadnʹt shaved for a couple days. I tried to sit up, but he tsked me back.
ʺNo, no, you need to lie down.ʺ Soreness in my chest told me he was right. My mind might be awake, but the rest of me was exhausted. I had no idea how much time had passed, but something told me my body had been fighting a battle—not with a Strigoi or anything like one, but with itself. A battle to stay alive.
ʺThen come closer,ʺ I told him. ʺI want to see you.ʺ
He considered this a moment and then kicked off his shoes. Turning on my side—which made me wince—I managed to wiggle over a little to make room near the bedʹs edge. He curled up beside me. Our faces rested on the same pillow, only a couple of inches apart as we gazed at each other.
ʺIs this better?ʺ he asked.
ʺMuch.ʺ
With his long, graceful fingers, he reached out and brushed hair from my face before tracing the edge of my cheekbone. ʺHow are you?ʺ
ʺHungry.ʺ
He laughed softly and cautiously slid his hand down to rest on my lower back, in a sort of half-embrace. ʺOf course you are. I think theyʹve only managed to get broth into you so far. Well, that and IV fluids early on. Youʹre probably in sugar withdrawal.ʺ
I cringed. I didnʹt like needles or tubes and was glad I hadnʹt been awake to see them. (Tattoo needles were a different matter.) ʺHow long have I been out?ʺ
ʺA few days.ʺ
ʺA few days . . .ʺ I shivered, and he tugged the covers higher on me, thinking I was cold. ʺI shouldnʹt be alive,ʺ I whispered. Gunshots like that . . . they were too fast, too close to my heart. Or in my heart? I put my hand to my chest. I didnʹt know precisely where Iʹd been hit. It all ached. ʺOh Lord. Lissa healed me, didnʹt she?ʺ It would have taken so much spirit. She shouldnʹt have done that. She couldnʹt afford to. Except . . . why would I still feel pain? If sheʹd healed me, she would have gone all the way.
ʺNo, she didnʹt heal you.ʺ
ʺNo?ʺ I frowned, unable to process that. How else would I have survived? A surprising answer came to mind. ʺThen . . . Adrian? Heʹd never . . . after how I treated him . . . no. He couldnʹt have . . .ʺ
ʺWhat, you think heʹd let you die?ʺ
I didnʹt answer. The bullets might be long gone, but thinking of Adrian still made my heart—figuratively—ache.
ʺNo matter how he feels . . .ʺ Dimitri hesitated. This was a delicate topic, after all. ʺWell, he wouldnʹt have let you die. He wanted to heal you. But he didnʹt either.ʺ
I felt bad for thinking so little of Adrian. Dimitri was right. Adrian never would have abandoned me out of spite, but I was rapidly running out of options here. ʺThen who? Sonya?ʺ
ʺNo one,ʺ he said simply. ʺWell, you, I suppose.ʺ
ʺI . . . what?ʺ
ʺBut why . . .ʺ I felt very arrogant, asking the next question. ʺWhy didnʹt Adrian or Lissa heal me?ʺ
ʺOh, they wanted to, believe me. But in the aftermath, in the chaos . . . the Court went under lockdown. They were both taken away and put under heavy protection before they could act. No one would let them near you, not when they still thought you might be a murderer. They had to be certain about Tasha first, even though her own actions were pretty damning.ʺ
It took me a moment to get past the idea that modern medicine and my bodyʹs own stamina had healed me. Iʹd grown too used to spirit. This didnʹt seem possible. As I tried to wrap my mind around the concept, the rest of Dimitriʹs meaning hit me. ʺIs Tasha . . . still alive?ʺ
His face fell even more. ʺYes. They caught her right after she shot you—before anyone else got hurt. Sheʹs detained, and more evidence has been coming in.ʺ
ʺCalling her out was one of the hardest things Iʹve ever done,ʺ I said. ʺFighting Strigoi was easier than that.ʺ
ʺI know. It was hard for me to see, hard for me to believe.ʺ There was a far-off look in his eyes, reminding me that Dimitri had known her longer than heʹd known me. ʺBut she made her choices, and all the charges against you have been dropped. Youʹre a free woman now. More than that. A hero. Abeʹs bragging that itʹs all his doing.ʺ
That brought my smile back. ʺOf course he is. Iʹll probably get a bill from him soon.ʺ I felt dizzy with both joy and astonishment. A free woman. Iʹd been burdened with accusations and a death sentence for what felt like years, and now . . . now it had all disappeared.
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