“Jill,” I said, speaking before I could stop myself. Horowitz tsked me for moving, and I immediately regretted drawing attention to myself and my knowledge of the Moroi. Nevertheless, an image of Jillian Mastrano flashed into my mind, tall and annoyingly slim like all Moroi, with big, pale green eyes that always seemed nervous. And she had good reason to be. At fifteen, Jill had discovered she was Vasilisa’s illegitimate sister, making her the only other member of their royal family’s line. She too was tied to the mess I’d gotten myself into this summer.
“You know their laws,” continued Stanton, after a moment of awkward silence. Her tone conveyed what we all thought of Moroi laws. An elected monarch? It made no sense, but what else could one expect from unnatural beings like vampires? “And Vasilisa must have one family member in order to hold her throne. Therefore, her enemies have decided if they can’t directly remove her, they’ll remove her family.”
A chill ran down my spine at the unspoken meaning, and I again commented without thinking. “Did something happen to Jill?” This time, I’d at least chosen a moment when Horowitz was refilling his needle, so there was no danger of messing up the tattoo.
I bit my lip to prevent myself from saying anything else, imagining the chastisement in my father’s eyes. Showing concern for a Moroi was the last thing I wanted to do, considering my uncertain status. I didn’t have any strong attachment to Jill, but the thought of someone trying to kill a fifteen-year-old girl—the same age as Zoe—was appalling, no matter what race she belonged to.
“That’s what’s unclear,” Stanton mused. “She was attacked, we know that much, but we can’t tell if she received any real injury. Regardless, she’s fine now, but the attempt happened at their own Court, indicating they have traitors at high levels.”
Barnes snorted in disgust. “What can you expect? How their ridiculous race has managed to survive as long as they have without turning on each other is beyond me.”
There were mutters of agreement.
“Ridiculous or not, though, we cannot have them in civil war,” said Stanton. “Some Moroi have acted out in protest, enough that they’ve caught the attention of human media. We can’t allow that. We need their government stable, and that means ensuring this girl’s safety. Maybe they can’t trust themselves, but they can trust us.”
There was no use in my pointing out that the Moroi didn’t really trust the Alchemists. But, since we had no interest in killing off the Moroi monarch or her family, I supposed that made us more trustworthy than some.
“We need to make the girl disappear,” said Michaelson. “At least until the Moroi can undo the law that makes Vasilisa’s throne so precarious. Hiding Mastrano with her own people isn’t safe at the moment, so we need to conceal her among humans.” Disdain dripped from his words. “But it’s imperative she also remains concealed from humans. Our race cannot know theirs exists.”
“After consultation with the guardians, we’ve chosen a location we all believe will be safe for her—both from Moroi and Strigoi,” said Stanton. “However, to make sure she—and those with her—remain undetected, we’re going to need Alchemists on hand, dedicated solely to her needs in case any complications come up.”
My father scoffed. “That’s a waste of our resources. Not to mention unbearable for whoever has to stay with her.”
I had a bad feeling about what was coming.
“This is where Sydney comes in,” said Stanton. “We’d like her to be one of the Alchemists that accompanies Jillian into hiding.”
“What?” exclaimed my father. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why not?” Stanton’s tone was calm and level. “They’re close in age, so being together won’t raise suspicion. And Sydney already knows the girl. Surely spending time with her won’t be as ‘unbearable’ as it might be for other Alchemists.”
The subtext was loud and clear. I wasn’t free of my past, not yet. Horowitz paused and lifted the needle, allowing me the chance to speak. My mind raced. Some response was expected. I didn’t want to sound too upset by the plan. I needed to restore my good name among the Alchemists and show my willingness to follow orders. That being said, I also didn’t want to sound as though I were too comfortable with vampires or their half-human counterparts, the dhampirs.
“Spending time with any of them is never fun,” I said carefully, keeping my voice cool and haughty. “Doesn’t matter how much you do it. But I’ll do whatever’s necessary to keep us—and everyone else—safe.” I didn’t need to explain that “everyone” meant humans.
“There, you see, Jared?” Barnes sounded pleased with the answer. “The girl knows her duty. We’ve made a number of arrangements already that should make things run smoothly, and we certainly wouldn’t send her there alone—especially since the Moroi girl won’t be alone either.”
“What do you mean?” My father still didn’t sound happy about any of this, and I wondered what was upsetting him the most. Did he truly think I might be in danger? Or was he simply worried that spending more time with the Moroi would turn my loyalties even more? “How many of them are coming?”
“They’re sending a dhampir,” said Michaelson. “One of their guardians, which I really don’t have a problem with. The location we’ve chosen should be Strigoi free, but if it’s not, better they fight those monsters than us.” The guardians were specially trained dhampirs who served as bodyguards.
“There you are,” Horowitz told me, stepping back. “You can sit up.”
I obeyed and resisted the urge to touch my cheek. The only thing I felt from his work was the needle’s sting, but I knew powerful magic was working its way through me, magic that would give me a superhuman immune system and prevent me from speaking about vampire affairs to ordinary humans. I tried not to think about the other part, about where that magic came from. The tattoos were a necessary evil.
The others were still standing, not paying attention to me—well, except for Zoe. She still looked confused and afraid and kept glancing anxiously my way.
“There also may be another Moroi coming along,” continued Stanton. “Honestly, I’m not sure why, but they were very insistent he be with Mastrano. We told them the fewer of them we had to hide, the better, but . . . well, they seemed to think it was necessary and said they’d make arrangements for him there. I think he’s some Ivashkov. Irrelevant.”
“Where is there?” asked my father. “Where do you want to send her?”
Excellent question. I’d been wondering the same thing. My first full-time job with the Alchemists had sent me halfway around the world, to Russia. If the Alchemists were intent on hiding Jill, there was no telling what remote location they’d send her to. For a moment, I dared to hope we might end up in my dream city: Rome. Legendary works of art and Italian food seemed like a good way to offset paperwork and vampires.
“Palm Springs,” said Barnes.
“Palm Springs?” I echoed. That was not what I’d been expecting. When I thought of Palm Springs, I thought of movie stars and golf courses. Not exactly a Roman holiday, but not the Arctic either.
A small, wry smile tugged at Stanton’s lips. “It’s in the desert and receives a lot of sunlight. Completely undesirable for Strigoi.”
“Wouldn’t it be undesirable for Moroi too?” I asked, thinking ahead. Moroi didn’t incinerate in the sun like Strigoi, but excessive exposure to it still made Moroi weak and sick.
“Well, yes,” admitted Stanton. “But a little discomfort is worth the safety it provides. So long as the Moroi spend most of their time inside, it won’t be a problem. Plus, it’ll discourage other Moroi from coming and—”
The sound of a car door opening and slamming outside the window caught everyone’s attention. “Ah,” said Michaelson. “There are the others. I’ll let them in.”
He slipped out of the study and presumably headed toward the front door to admit whoever had arrived. Moments later, I heard a new voice speaking as Michaelson returned to us.
“Well, D
ad couldn’t make it, so he just sent me,” the new voice was saying.
The study door opened, and my heart stopped.
No, I thought. Anyone but him.
“Jared,” said the newcomer, catching sight of my father. “Great to see you again.”
My father, who had barely spared me a glance all night, actually smiled. “Keith! I’d been wondering how you’ve been.” The two of them shook hands, and a wave of disgust rolled through me.
“This is Keith Darnell,” said Michaelson, introducing him to the others.
“Tom Darnell’s son?” asked Barnes, impressed. Tom Darnell was a legendary leader among the Alchemists.
“The same,” said Keith cheerfully. He was about five years older than me, with blond hair a shade lighter than mine. I knew a lot of girls thought he was attractive. Me? I found him vile. He was pretty much the last person I’d expected to see here.
“And I believe you know the Sage sisters,” added Michaelson.
Keith turned his blue eyes first to Zoe, eyes that were just fractionally different from each other in color. One eye, made of glass, stared blankly ahead and didn’t move at all. The other one winked at her as his grin widened.
He can still wink, I thought furiously. That annoying, stupid, condescending wink! But then, why wouldn’t he? We’d all heard about the accident he’d had this year, an accident that had cost him an eye. He’d still survived with one good one, but somehow, in my mind, I’d thought the loss of an eye would stop that infuriating winking.
“Little Zoe! Look at you, all grown up,” he said fondly. I’m not a violent person, not by any means, but I suddenly wanted to hit him for looking at my sister that way.
She managed a smile for him, clearly relieved to see a familiar face here. When Keith turned toward me, however, all that charm and friendliness vanished. The feeling was mutual.
The burning, black hatred building up inside of me was so overwhelming that it took me a moment to formulate any sort of response. “Hello, Keith,” I said stiffly.
Keith didn’t even attempt to match my forced civility. He immediately turned toward the senior Alchemists. “What is she doing here?”
“We know you requested Zoe,” said Stanton levelly, “but after consideration, we decided it would be best if Sydney fulfill this role. Her experience dwarfs any concerns about her past actions.”
“No,” said Keith swiftly, turning that steely blue gaze back on me. “There is no way she can come, no way I’m trusting some twisted vamp lover to screw this up for all of us. We’re taking her sister.”
CHAPTER 2
A COUPLE OF PEOPLE GASPED, no doubt over Keith’s use of the term “vamp lover.” Neither word was that terrible in and of itself, but together . . . well, they represented an idea that was pretty much anathema to all that the Alchemists stood for. We fought to protect humans from vampires. Being in league with those creatures was about the vilest thing any of us could be accused of. Even while questioning me earlier, the other Alchemists had been very careful with their choice of language.
Keith’s usage was almost obscene. Horowitz looked angry on my behalf and opened his mouth as though he might make an equally biting retort. After a quick glance at Zoe and me, he seemed to reconsider, and stayed silent. Michaelson, however, couldn’t help himself from muttering, “Protect us all.” He made the sign against evil.
Yet it wasn’t Keith’s name-calling that really set me off (though that did certainly send a chill through me). It was Stanton’s earlier offhand comment. We know you requested Zoe.
Keith had requested Zoe for this assignment? My resolve to keep her out of it grew by leaps and bounds. The thought of her going off with him made me clench my fists. Everyone here might think Keith Darnell was some kind of poster child, but I knew better. No girl—let alone my sister—should be left alone with him.
“Keith,” said Stanton, a gentle warning in her voice. “I can respect your feelings, but you aren’t in a position to make that call.”
He flushed. “Palm Springs is my post! I have every right to dictate what goes on in my territory.”
“I can understand why you’d feel that way,” said my father. Unbelievable. If Zoe or I had questioned authority like Keith had, our father wouldn’t have hesitated to tell us our “rights”—or rather, he’d tell us that we had none. Keith had stayed with my family one summer—young Alchemists sometimes did that while training—and my father had grown to regard him like the son he’d never had. Even then, there’d been a double standard between Keith and us. Time and distance apparently hadn’t diminished that.
“Palm Springs may be your post,” said Stanton, “but this assignment is coming from places in the organization that are far above your reach. You’re essential for coordination, yes, but you are by no means the ultimate authority here.” Unlike me, I suspected Stanton had smacked a few people in her day, and I think she wanted to do that to Keith now. It was funny that she would become my defender, since I’d been pretty sure she didn’t buy my story about using Rose to advance my career.
Keith visibly calmed himself, wisely realizing a childish outburst wasn’t going to get him anywhere. “I understand. But I’m simply worried about the success of this mission. I know both of the Sage girls. Even before Sydney’s ‘incident,’ I had serious concerns about her. I figured she’d grow out of them, though, so I didn’t bother saying anything at the time. I see now I was wrong. Back then, I actually thought Zoe would have been a far better choice for the family position. No offense, Jared.” He gave my father what was probably supposed to be a charming smile.
Meanwhile, it was getting harder and harder to hide my incredulity. “Zoe was eleven when you stayed with us,” I said. “How in the world could you have drawn those conclusions?” I didn’t buy for an instant that he’d had “concerns” about me back then. No—scratch that. He’d probably had concerns the last day he stayed with us, when I confronted him about a dirty secret he’d been hiding. That, I was almost certain, was what all of this was about. He wanted me silenced. My adventures with Rose were simply an excuse to get me out of the way.
“Zoe was always advanced for her age,” Keith said. “Sometimes you can just tell.”
“Zoe’s never seen a Strigoi, let alone a Moroi! She’d probably freeze up if she did. That’s true of most Alchemists,” I pointed out. “Whoever you send is going to have to be able to stand being around them, and no matter what you think of my reasons, I’m used to them. I don’t like them, but I know how to tolerate them. Zoe hasn’t had anything but the most basic of instruction—and that’s all been in our home. Everyone keeps saying this is a serious assignment. Do you really want to risk its outcome because of inexperience and unsubstantiated fears?” I finished, proud of myself for staying calm and making such a reasoned argument.
Barnes shifted uneasily. “But if Keith had doubts years ago . . .”
“Zoe’s training is still probably enough to get by,” said my father.
Five minutes ago, my father had endorsed me going instead of her! Was anyone here even listening to me? It was like I was invisible now that Keith was here. Horowitz had been busily cleaning and putting away his tattooing tools but looked up to scoff at Barnes’s remark.
“You said the magic words: ‘years ago.’ Keith couldn’t have been much older than these girls are now.” Horowitz shut his tool case and leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed. “I don’t doubt you, Keith. Not exactly. But I’m not really sure you can base your opinion of her off memories from when you were all children.”
By Horowitz’s logic, he was saying I was still a child, but I didn’t care. He’d delivered his comments in an effortless, easy way that nonetheless left Keith looking like an idiot. Keith knew it, too, and turned bright red.
“I concur,” said Stanton, who was clearly getting impatient. “Sydney wants this badly, and few would, considering it means she’ll actually have to live with a vampire.”
Want it badly? Not
exactly. But I did want to protect Zoe at all costs and restore my credibility. If it meant thwarting Keith Darnell along the way, then so much the—
“Wait,” I said, replaying Stanton’s words. “Did you say live with a vampire?”
“Yes,” said Stanton. “Even if she’s in hiding, the Moroi girl still has to have some semblance of a normal life. We figured we’d kill two birds with one stone and enroll her in a private boarding school. Take care of her education and lodging. We would make arrangements for you to be her roommate.”
“Wouldn’t that mean . . . wouldn’t that mean I’d have to go to school?” I asked, feeling a little puzzled now. “I already graduated.” High school, at least. I’d made it clear a number of times to my father that I’d love to go to college. He’d made it equally clear that he didn’t feel there was a need.
“You see?” said Keith, jumping on the opportunity. “She’s too old. Zoe’s a better age match.”
“Sydney can pass for a senior. She’s the right age.” Stanton gave me a once-over. “Besides, you were homeschooled, right? This’ll be a new experience for you. You can see what you were missing.”
“It would probably be easy for you,” said my father grudgingly. “Your education was superior to anything they can offer.” Nice backhanded compliment, Dad.
I was afraid to show how uneasy this deal was making me. My resolve to look out for Zoe and myself hadn’t changed, but the complications just kept growing. Repeat high school. Live with a vampire. Keep her in witness protection. And even though I’d talked up how comfortable I was around vampires, the thought of sharing a room with one—even a seemingly benign one like Jill—was unnerving. Another woe occurred to me.
“Would you be an undercover student too?” I asked Keith. The idea of lending him class notes made me nauseous again.
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