"They're scattered reports…but, like, I read this one about a guy who could make others see things that weren't there. He could get them to believe they were seeing monsters or other people or whatever."
"That could be compulsion."
"Really powerful compulsion. I couldn't do that, and I'm stronger-or used to be-in it than anyone we know. And that power comes from using spirit…."
"So," I finished, "you think this illusion guy must have been a spirit user too." She nodded. "Why not contact him and find out?"
"Because there's no information listed! It's secret. And there are others just as strange. Like someone who could physically drain others. People standing nearby would get weak and lose all their strength. They'd pass out. And there was someone else who could stop things in midair when they were thrown at him." Excitement lit up her features.
"He could have been an air user," I pointed out.
"Maybe," she said. I could feel the curiosity and excitement swirling through her. She desperately wanted to believe there were others out there like her.
I smiled. "Who knew? Moroi have Roswell- and Area 51-type stuff. It's a wonder I'm not being studied somewhere to see if they can figure out the bond."
Lissa's speculative mood turned teasing. "I wish I could see into your mind sometimes. I'd like to know how you feel about Mason."
"He's my friend," I said stoutly, surprised at the abrupt change in subject. "That's it."
She tsked. "You used to flirt-and do other stuff-with any guy you could get your hands on."
"Hey!" I said, offended. "I wasn't that bad."
"Okay…maybe not. But you don't seem interested in guys anymore."
I was interested in guys-well, one guy.
"Mason's really nice," she continued. "And crazy about you."
"He is," I agreed. I thought about Mason, about that brief moment when I'd thought he was sexy outside Stan's class. Plus, Mason was really funny, and we got along beautifully. He wasn't a bad prospect as far as boyfriends went.
"You guys are a lot alike. You're both doing things you shouldn't."
I laughed. That was also true. I recalled Mason's eagerness to take on every Strigoi in the world. I might not be ready for that-despite my outburst in the car-but I shared some of his recklessness. It might be time to give him a shot, I thought. Bantering with him was fun, and it had been a long time since I'd kissed anyone. Dimitri made my heart ache … but, well, it wasn't like anything else was going on there.
Lissa watched me appraisingly, like she knew what I was thinking-well, aside from the Dimitri stuff. "I heard Meredith say you were an idiot for not going out with him. She said it's because you think you're too good for him."
"What! That's not true."
"Hey, I didn't say it. Anyway, she said she's thinking of going after him."
"Mason and Meredith?" I scoffed. "That's a disaster in the making. They have nothing in common."
It was petty, but I'd gotten used to Mason always doting on me. Suddenly, the thought of someone else getting him irked me.
"You're possessive," Lissa said, again guessing my thoughts. No wonder she got so annoyed at me reading her mind.
"Only a little."
She laughed. "Rose, even if it's not Mason, you really should start dating again. There are lots of guys who would kill to go out with you-guys who are actually nice."
I hadn't always made the best choices when it came to men. Once again, the urge to spill all my worries to her seized me. I'd been hesitant to tell her about Dimitri for so long, even though the secret burned inside of me. Sitting with her here reminded me that she was my best friend. I could tell her anything, and she wouldn't judge me. But, just like earlier, I lost the chance to tell her what was on my mind.
She glanced over at her alarm clock and suddenly sprang up from the bed.
"I'm late! I've got to meet Christian!"
Joy filled her, underscored with a bit of nervous anticipation. Love. What could you do? I swallowed back the jealousy that started to raise its ugly head. Once again, Christian had taken her away from me. I wasn't going to be able to unburden myself tonight.
Lissa and I left the dorm, and she practically sprinted away, promising we'd talk tomorrow. I wandered back to my own dorm. When I got to my room, I passed by my mirror and groaned when I saw my face. Dark purple surrounded my eye. In talking to Lissa, I'd almost forgotten about the whole incident with my mother. Stopping to get a closer look, I stared at my face. Maybe it was egotistical, but I knew I looked good. I wore a C-cup and had a body much coveted in a school where most of the girls were supermodel slim. And as I'd noted earlier, my face was pretty too. On a typical day, I was a nine around here-ten on a very good one.
But today? Yeah. I was practically in negative numbers. I was going to look fabulous for the ski trip.
"My mom beat me up," I informed my reflection. It looked back sympathetically.
With a sigh, I decided I might as well get ready for bed. There was nothing else I wanted to do tonight, and maybe extra sleep would speed the healing. I went down the hall to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my hair. When I got back to my room, I slipped on my favorite pajamas, and the feel of soft flannel cheered me up a little.
I was packing my backpack for the next day when a burst of emotion abruptly shot through my bond with Lissa. It caught me unaware and gave me no chance to fight it. It was like being knocked over by a hurricane-force wind, and suddenly, I was no longer looking at my backpack. I was «inside» Lissa, experiencing her world firsthand.
And that's when things got awkward.
Because Lissa was with Christian.
And things were getting … hot.
CHAPTER 8
Christian was kissing her, and wow, was it a kiss. He wasn't messing around. It was the kind of kiss that small children shouldn't be allowed to see. Hell, it was the kind of kiss no one should be allowed to see-let alone experience through a psychic link.
As I've noted before, strong emotion from Lissa could make this phenomenon happen-the one where I got pulled inside her head. But always, always, it was because of some negative emotion. She'd get upset or angry or depressed, and that would reach out to me. But this time? She wasn't upset.
She was happy. Very, very happy.
Oh man. I needed to get out of here.
They were up in the attic of the school's chapel or, as I liked to call it, their love nest. The place had been a regular hangout for them, back when each of them was feeling antisocial and wanted to escape. Eventually, they'd decided to be antisocial together, and one thing had led to another. Since they started publicly dating, I hadn't known they spent much time here anymore. Maybe they were back for old time's sake.
And indeed, a celebration did seem to be going on. Little scented candles were set up around the dusty old place, candles that filled the air with the scent of lilacs. I would have been a little nervous about setting all those candles in a confined space filled with flammable boxes and books, but Christian probably figured he could control any accidental infernos.
They finally broke that insanely long kiss and pulled back to look at each other. They lay on their sides on the floor. Several blankets had been spread under them.
Christian's face was open and tender as he regarded Lissa, his pale blue eyes aglow with some inner emotion. It was different from the way Mason regarded me. There was certainly adoration with him, but Mason's was a lot like when you walk into a church and fall to your knees in awe and fear of something you worship but don't really understand. Christian clearly worshipped Lissa in his way, but there was a knowing glint to his eyes, a sense that the two of them shared an understanding of each other so perfect and powerful that they didn't even need words to convey it.
"Don't you think we're going to go to hell for this?" asked Lissa.
He reached out and touched her face, trailing his fingers along her cheek and neck and down to the top of her silky shirt. She breathed heavily at that
touch, at the way it could be so gentle and small, yet evoke such a strong passion within her.
"For this?" He played with the shirt's edge, letting his finger just barely brush inside of it.
"No," she laughed. "For this." She gestured around the attic. "This is a church. We shouldn't be doing this kind of, um, thing up here."
"Not true," he argued. Gently, he pushed her onto her back and leaned over her. "The church is downstairs. This is just storage. God won't mind."
"You don't believe in God," she chastised. Her hands made their way down his chest. Her movements were as light and deliberate as his, yet they clearly triggered the same powerful response in him.
He sighed happily as her hands slid under his shirt and up his stomach. "I'm humoring you."
"You'd say anything right now," she accused. Her fingers caught the edge of his shirt and pushed it up. He shifted so she could push it all the way off him and then leaned back over her, bare-chested.
"You're right," he agreed. He carefully undid one button on her blouse. Just one. Then he again leaned down and gave her one of those hard, deep kisses. When he came up for air, he continued on as though nothing had happened. "Tell me what you need to hear, and I'll say it." He unfastened another button.
"There's nothing I need to hear," she laughed. Another button popped free. "You can tell me whatever you want-it'd just be nice if it were true."
"The truth, huh? No one wants to hear the truth. The truth is never sexy. But you …" The last button came undone, and he spread her shirt away. "You are too goddamned sexy to be real."
His words held his trademark snarky tone, but his eyes conveyed a different message entirely. I was witnessing this scene through Lissa's eyes, but I could imagine what he saw. Her smooth, white skin. Slender waist and hips. A lacy white bra. Through her, I could feel that the lace was itchy, but she didn't care.
Feelings both fond and hungry spread over his features. From within Lissa, I could feel her heart race and breathing quicken. Emotions similar to Christian's clouded all other coherent thoughts. Shifting down, he lay on top of her, pressing their bodies together. His mouth sought hers out again, and as their lips and tongues made contact, I knew I had to get out of there.
Because I understood it now. I understood why Lissa had dressed up and why the love nest had been decked out like a Yankee Candles showroom. This was it. The moment. After a month of dating, they were going to have sex. Lissa, I knew, had done it before with a past boyfriend. I didn't know Christian's past, but I sincerely doubted many girls had fallen prey to his abrasive charm.
But in feeling what Lissa felt, I could tell that none of that mattered. Not in that moment. In that moment, there were only the two of them and the way they felt about each other right now. And in a life filled with more worries than someone her age should have had, Lissa felt absolutely certain about what she was doing now. It was what she wanted. What she'd wanted for a very long time with him.
And I had no right to be witnessing it.
Who was I kidding? I didn't want to witness it. I took no pleasure in watching other people get it on, and I sure as hell didn't want to experience sex with Christian. It'd be like losing my virginity virtually.
But Jesus Christ, Lissa wasn't making it easy to get out of her head. She had no desire to detach from her feelings and emotions, and the stronger they grew, the stronger they held me. Trying to distance myself from her, I focused my energies on coming back to myself, concentrating as hard as I could.
More clothes disappeared …
Come on, come on, I told myself sternly.
The condom came out… yikes.
You're your own person, Rose. Get back in your head.
Their limbs intertwined, their bodies moving together …
Son of a-
I ripped out of her and back to myself. Once again, I was back in my room, but I no longer had any interest in packing my backpack. My whole world was askew. I felt strange and violated-almost unsure if I was Rose or if I was Lissa. I also felt that resentment toward Christian again. I certainly didn't want to have sex with Lissa, but there was that same pang inside of me, that frustrated feeling that I was no longer the center of her world.
Leaving the backpack untouched, I went right to bed, wrapping my arms around myself and curling into a ball to try to squelch the ache within my chest.
I fell asleep pretty quickly and woke up early as a result. Usually, I had to be dragged out of bed to go meet Dimitri, but today I showed up early enough that I actually beat him to the gym. As I waited, I saw Mason cutting across to one of the buildings that held classrooms.
"Whoa," I called. "Since when are you up this early?"
"Since I had to retake a math test," he said, walking over to me. He gave me his mischievous smile. "Might be worth skipping, though, to hang out with you."
I laughed, remembering my conversation with Lissa. Yes, there were definitely worse things I could do than flirt and start something with Mason.
"Nah. You might get in trouble, then I'd have no real challenge on the slopes."
He rolled his eyes, still smiling. "I'm the one with no real challenge, remember?"
"You ready to bet on something yet? Or are you still too afraid?"
"Watch it," he warned, "or I might take back your Christmas present."
"You got me a present?" I hadn't expected that.
"Yup. But if you keep back-talking, I might give it to someone else."
"Like Meredith?" I teased.
"She isn't even in your league, and you know it."
"Even with a black eye?" I asked with a grimace.
"Even with two black eyes."
The look he gave me just then wasn't teasing or even really suggestive. It was just nice. Nice, friendly, and interested. Like he really cared. After all the stress lately, I decided I liked being cared about. And with the neglect I was starting to feel from Lissa, I realized I also kind of liked having someone who wanted to pay so much attention to me.
"What are you doing on Christmas?" I asked.
He shrugged. "Nothing. My mom almost came down but had to cancel at the last minute … you know, with everything that happened."
Mason's mother wasn't a guardian. She was a dhampir who'd chosen to just be domestic and have kids. As a result, I knew he saw her quite a bit. It was ironic, I thought, that my mom actually was here, but for all intents and purposes, she might as well have been somewhere else.
"Come hang with me," I said on impulse. "I'll be with Lissa and Christian and his aunt. It'll be fun."
"Really?"
"Very fun."
"That's not what I was asking about."
I grinned. "I know. Just be there, okay?"
He swept me one of the gallant bows he liked to make. "Absolutely."
Mason wandered off just as Dimitri showed up for our practice. Talking to Mason had made me feel giddy and happy; I hadn't thought about my face at all with him. But with Dimitri, I suddenly became self-conscious. I didn't want to be anything less than perfect with him, and as we walked inside, I went out of my way to avert my face so he couldn't look at me full-on. Worrying about that brought my mood down, and as it plummeted, all the other things that had been upsetting me came tumbling back.
We returned to the training room with the dummies, and he told me he simply wanted me to practice the maneuvers from two days ago. Happy he wasn't going to bring up the fight, I set to my task with a burning zeal, showing the dummies just what would happen if they messed with Rose Hathaway. I knew my fighting fury was fired up by more than just a simple desire to do well. My feelings were out of control this morning, raw and intense after both the fight with my mother and what I'd witnessed with Lissa and Christian last night. Dimitri sat back and watched me, occasionally critiquing my technique and offering suggestions for new tactics.
"Your hair's in the way," he said at one point. "Not only are you blocking your peripheral vision, you're running the risk of letting your enemy get
a handhold."
"If I'm actually in a fight, I'll wear it up." I grunted as I shoved the stake neatly up between the dummy's "ribs." I didn't know what these artificial bones were made of, but they were a bitch to work around. I thought about my mom again and added a little extra force to the jab. "I'm just wearing it down today, that's all."
"Rose," he said warningly. Ignoring him, I plunged again. His voice came more sharply the next time he spoke. "Rose. Stop."
I backed away from the dummy, surprised to find my breathing labored. I hadn't realized I was working that hard. My back hit the wall. With nowhere to go, I looked away from him, directing my eyes toward the ground.
"Look at me," he ordered.
"Dimitri-"
"Look at me."
No matter our close history, he was still my instructor. I couldn't refuse a direct order. Slowly, reluctantly, I turned toward him, still tilting my head slightly down so the hair hung over the sides of my face. Rising from his chair, he walked over and stood before me.
I avoided his eyes but saw his hand move forward to brush back my hair. Then it stopped. As did my breathing. Our short-lived attraction had been filled with questions and reservations, but one thing I'd known for sure: Dimitri had loved my hair. Maybe he still loved it. It was great hair, I'll admit. Long and silky and dark. He used to find excuses to touch it, and he'd counseled me against cutting it as so many female guardians did.
His hand hovered there, and the world stood still as I waited to see what he would do. After what seemed like an eternity, he let his hand gradually fall back to his side. Burning disappointment washed over me, yet at the same time, I'd learned something. He'd hesitated. He'd been afraid to touch me, which maybe-just maybe-meant he still wanted to. He'd had to hold himself back.
I slowly tipped my head back so that we made eye contact. Most of my hair fell back from my face-but not all. His hand trembled again, and I hoped again he'd reach forward. The hand steadied. My excitement dimmed.
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