The Fiery Heart b-4

by Richelle Mead

  “Gah. I don’t know if I can even afford this place.”

  She put her hand over mine. “I’ll spot you.”

  I’d had a feeling that was coming and knew there’d be no way to fight it. “Coming to my rescue?”

  “Of course. It’s what we do.” She scooted closer to me. Hopper tried to move in, and I pushed him out of the way. “I rescue you; you rescue me. We just take turns whenever the other needs it. And if it makes you feel better, think of it as me coming to the Ivashkinator’s rescue, not yours.”

  I laughed and put an arm around her waist. “That totally fixes everything. Except, now that I don’t have a car, I can’t really make good on my birthday promise.”

  Sydney thought about it for several moments. “Well. I’ve got a car.”

  An hour later, I vowed I’d never make fun of that Mazda again.

  It turned out to be one of our most intense encounters and certainly one of our most inventive, seeing as we had to deal with the space constraints of the backseat. As we lay together afterward, curled up under a blanket I’d had the foresight to bring, I tried to etch every detail into my mind. The smoothness of her skin, the curve of her hip. The exhilarating lightness that burned in my soul, even as the rest of me felt blissfully lethargic.

  Sydney boldly sat up and reached for the moon roof. “How’s that for a birthday?” she asked triumphantly. A partial silver moon gleamed down at us through some branches.

  Before the clothes had come off, she’d driven around the block to ascertain that there was no tail lying in wait. Even though she had no reason to think the Alchemists were tracking her, she still erred on the side of caution. Satisfied, she’d ended up parking in a pretty strategic spot on my street, one that was overhung with trees and in front of a vacant house a block from my building. Someone could still obviously come by and spot us, but the odds were pretty low in this darkness.

  She snuggled back under the blanket with me, turned toward me so that she could rest her head on my chest. “I hear your heart,” she said.

  “Do you check every once in a while, just to make sure I’m not undead?”

  Her answer was a soft laugh, followed by a long, sensuous kiss at the side of my neck.

  My hands tightened on her, and I again tried to memorize every part of this moment. There was such perfection in the way our bodies were wrapped together. It didn’t seem possible that outside the sanctity of this moonlit car was a world we had to hide from, a world that wanted to tear us apart. The thought of what surrounded us made what was between us seem that much more fragile.

  “‘Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold . . .’” I murmured.

  “Are you quoting Yeats now?” she asked incredulously, lifting her head slightly. “That poem’s about apocalyptic visions and World War One.”

  “I know.”

  “You have some very strange post-sex poetic choices.”

  I smiled and ran my fingers through her hair. It looked neither gold nor silver in here, just some fey color in between. Even in the throes of love and joy, I could feel a little of the Adrian Ivashkov moodiness settling over me.

  “Well . . . it’s just sometimes I feel like this is too good to be true. I couldn’t have created anything this perfect in one of my own spirit dreams.” I pulled her closer and pressed my cheek against hers. “And I’m enough of a pessimist to know we eventually wake up from dreams.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” she said. “Because this isn’t a dream. It’s real. And we can handle whatever comes. You come across any William Morris in your poems?”

  “Isn’t that the guy who makes cigarettes?” And here she was accusing me of non-romantic poems.

  “No. William Morris was an English writer.” She rolled over and rummaged through the mess of clothes on the floor. A moment later, she lifted up a phone and did a search on it. “Here we go. ‘Yet their hands shall not tremble, their feet shall not falter.’” She tossed the phone back into the pile and snuggled up to me again, resting her hands over my heart. “The poem’s called ‘Love Is Enough.’ As long as we’re together, that’s how we’ll be. No trembling. No faltering. We’re unstoppable.”

  I caught hold of her hands and kissed them. “How did you become the starry-eyed romantic while I became the worrier?”

  “I guess we rubbed off on each other. Don’t make a joke out of that,” she warned.

  “Don’t leave me such good setups, then.”

  I smiled at her, but that brooding cloud still hung over me, even as I lay there so full of happiness. I had never thought I could love another person this much. I also never thought I’d live in such fear of losing another person. Was that how everyone in love felt? Did they all cling tightly to their beloved and wake up terrified in the middle of the night, afraid of being alone? Was that an inevitable way of life when you loved so deeply? Or was it just those of us who walked on a precipice who lived in such a panic?

  I brought my face a mere whisper from hers. “I love you so much.”

  She blinked in that way I’d come to recognize, when she was afraid she might cry. “I love you too. Hey.” She slid one of her hands up and rested it on my cheek. “Don’t look like that. Everything’s going to be okay. The center will hold.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because we are the center.”

  CHAPTER 20

  SYDNEY

  I SAT BACK ON MY KNEES AND SURVEYED MY WORK. One gallon of the ink that could help free other Alchemists tired of being controlled by our superiors. It would change the way Marcus carried out his missions. It would change everything.

  The power of that realization with Marcus was part of why I’d agreed to Neil’s madness. It was another chance for a monumental discovery. I’d followed up on the Los Angeles Strigoi in question with Alchemist reports and found that Neil’s assumptions were right. All signs indicated this Strigoi worked in a very specific territory and usually worked alone. The prevailing theory was that it must be a newly turned one. Although they weren’t the best at organization, experienced Strigoi knew the power they had in groups. If this one was a beginner, so much the better for us. I just hoped two dhampirs and a fire-wielding witch were enough to take this one out.

  But I was fully aware that something could go wrong, and that was why I hadn’t told Adrian. I hated that. I knew relationships fell apart all the time because someone was stupid and withheld a vital piece of information. When I’d gotten involved with him, I’d sworn I’d never do that. And yet, I also knew a couple things would happen if Adrian knew our plans. One was that he’d want to come. The other was that if something went wrong, if one of us was hurt—or, God forbid, killed—he would never forgive himself for not being able to perform a healing. I’d seen it in his face, both before and after the pills. Maybe the rush of spirit had been addictive, but it was being powerless to help others that truly tormented him. I couldn’t let him face that.

  My last reason for keeping him out of it was purely selfish: I couldn’t risk anything happening to him.

  Things fall apart.

  I knew Adrian’s words were just part of his contemplative, metaphysical moods. They haunted me nonetheless, maybe because I understood what he was saying. There was a perfection to what we had, even if it was all in stolen moments, and at times, it did seem as though we were dancing on a razor’s edge that we’d inevitably plummet over. As I contemplated my task with Neil and Eddie, I wondered bitterly if this would be what broke Adrian and me. We worried so much about getting caught by others. Maybe things would fall apart because I was running off on some foolish and noble task.

  The center cannot hold.

  I sighed and stood up. There was nothing to be done now. I was resolved to do this thing. Sydney Sage really was the reckless one.

  Back in my dorm room, I found Zoe finishing up her homework. Things had eased up a little since our birthday fight last night, but tension still hung heavy between us. “Hey,” I said, taking off my coat.<
br />
  “Hey,” she replied. “Finish your work for Ms. Terwilliger?”

  I ignored the accusatory tone. “Yup. The big project’s pretty much wrapped up, so I should have some more time.” I thought that would please her, but she still looked sullen, so I tried another approach. “Want a cupcake?” I’d brought home leftovers and told her they were from Spencer’s, which kept a well-stocked pastry cabinet.

  Zoe shook her head. “Too many calories. Besides, it’s almost dinnertime.”

  “Are you going to eat with us?” I asked hopefully. Like me, she’d made some human friends and sometimes preferred them to the Moroi gang.

  I saw her hesitate and then finally give me a tentative smile that filled me with hope. “Sure.” She wanted us to be sisters. But like me, she wasn’t sure how to make it work.

  Someday, I thought. Someday I’ll fix everything. Adrian, Zoe. Life will be easy again.

  She perked up a little when we went downstairs and I told her she could take the car out tonight to practice her turns. For the first time in a while, I was staying at school for the evening, so she might as well get her chance with the Mazda. Admittedly, it was a little hard to yield the car after what Adrian and I had done last night. The memories washed over me, and even now, my breath caught. The moonlight, his touch. I’d never look at that car the same way, but my sentimentality wasn’t enough to keep it from Zoe.

  In the cafeteria, we found a weird atmosphere settling around my friends’ table. Jill was the only one semi-upbeat, largely because she’d found a date to the dance. A friend of her ex, Micah, was going to go with her. “It’s just platonic,” she said, giving Neil a meaningful gaze. “But it’ll be fun to have a chance to get out of the uniform for a change. And it’s here, so no real security problems.”

  Neil nodded, but it was obvious to me that he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. Eddie also seemed checked out, which was surprising since even though he denied wanting Jill, he usually had some problem with the guys she went out with. Both he and Neil wore mirrored expressions of preoccupation now, and an alarm went off in my head that something had happened. When I’d seen them yesterday, both had certainly had our trip to LA on their minds, but they hadn’t looked this glum. I wondered if maybe some enterprising guardian had taken out our “easy” Strigoi.

  The last piece of this drama was Angeline. She was making no effort to hide her suspicion. Adrian had told me how she’d come over to his place yesterday, and I watched as she leveled glares at me and the guys. As distracted as she got, I never would’ve guessed she’d be the one to pick up on subtle clues. Even now, despite her watchfulness, she’d occasionally oscillate between random topics, like how shepherd’s pie wasn’t a pie at all and why it was pointless to take a class in typing when technology would eventually develop robot companions to do it for us.

  When she started going off on the cafeteria’s carrot cake and how cream-cheese frosting should be considered cheese spread instead of frosting, I couldn’t take it anymore. I took my empty tray and stood up to get a water refill. It wasn’t a surprise when Eddie joined me across the room.

  “What happened?” I asked. “Is Angeline still critiquing the carrot cake?”

  “No, she’s moved on to baking in general and whether it’s best to frost before or after something’s cool.” He sighed. “But I’m guessing you know there’s more than that going on.”

  “Bring it.”

  “We just saw some guardian reports about a Strigoi gang that’s been moving down the coast. Everyone’s pretty sure they’re going to end up in Los Angeles.”

  I immediately picked up on the subtext. “And you’re worried they’ll join up with your guy.”

  He nodded. “I mean, we don’t know for certain, but it’s a new variable to deal with. Part of what made this idea kind of not crazy was that other Strigoi activity had been low in the area.”

  “So what are we going to do?” His dismay began to spread to me.

  “Neil and I think we should go tomorrow. The other Strigoi shouldn’t be there yet, and it’s a Friday. We know this guy likes club goers.”

  I groaned. “Zoe and I are supposed to celebrate my birthday. If I cancel . . . God, Eddie. It’s going to be ugly. Things are bad between us.”

  His expression turned kind, but there was steel in his eyes. “This may be our only chance.”

  Turning from him, I stared across the cafeteria. Neil had left, and Zoe was standing up, no doubt off to take the car out. Angeline was already eagerly leaning toward Jill, and I wondered if there’d be more talk of conspiracy theories. Or maybe cake. Or robot companions.

  “Okay,” I told Eddie. “I’ll make it happen.”

  I did, but as I’d warned him, it was ugly.

  Zoe was in a bad mood when she got back from parking practice, and I prayed she hadn’t hit something. When school got out the next day, her mood was still in full effect, killing any fleeting chance that I might get away unscathed. There was nothing to do but push forward and give her the bad news that my birthday was being postponed again. She was nearly in tears by the end of our “discussion.”

  “How can you keep doing this?” she yelled. “What’s wrong with you? I thought when I came here . . . I thought things would be great. I thought we’d be a team.”

  “We are,” I said. “We’re getting so much done, and I thought . . . well, I thought you were making good progress in getting along with the Moroi and dhampirs.”

  “Yes, but they’re not the ones I want to spend time with. You are, Sydney. My sister! Why is everything else more important than me?”

  I walked over to put my arm around her, but she pushed me away. “Zoe, you are important. I love you. But there’s just a lot I have to deal with. It’s how our job works. Sometimes we get cut off from our families for a while.”

  “We aren’t cut off! I’m right here.” She wiped furiously at her eyes. “You said that thing for Ms. Terwilliger was done!” Once again, I’d relied on my old excuse, simply because it was one of the few things she couldn’t fight against.

  “It was supposed to be, but then we found out about a library in Pasadena that has something we need. Remember that crazy guy I told you she’s dating?” I managed a hollow laugh. “They’re going to a dog show during the day, so she isn’t free until tonight. Good thing the library’s open until—”

  “I don’t care about your stupid library!” A coldness filled Zoe’s eyes as she stared at me. There was an almost tangible quality to it. “I want to know something, Sydney. And don’t lie or dodge the question. What are you going to say at the hearing?”

  It hit me out of left field. A story was ready on my lips, but as I met the intensity of her gaze, I couldn’t bring myself to lie. “I’m going to tell the truth,” I said.

  “What truth is that?”

  “That both Mom and Dad have good things to offer. Mom’s not an evil person, Zoe. You know that.”

  Zoe’s face was impassive. “And if they ask you who you think should have me, who will you say?”

  I stared into her eyes, so like my own. “Mom.”

  She sank back into her bed as though I’d punched her. “How could you do that to me?”

  “Because Mom loves you,” I said simply. “And you should have a normal life before swearing to this one.”

  “I’ve already sworn to this one,” she reminded me, touching the tattoo on her cheek.

  “It’s not too late.” I wished I could tell her about the salt ink, but obviously, she wasn’t ready for that. “Zoe, since coming here, I’ve had the first chance in my life to do what other people do. To have normal relationships.”

  “Yeah,” she said bitterly. “I know.”

  “It’s not frivolous. It’s amazing. I love it. I want you to have that kind of life.”

  “That doesn’t sound like any Alchemist belief I’ve ever heard.”

  “It’s not—because I’m talking to you like a sister now, not just another Alchemist.”
r />   “You sure do flip between those pretty randomly. How do you know which one to be at any given time?”

  I shrugged. “It’s in my gut.”

  Zoe stood up, her hard expression showing me she was unmoved. “I’m going out. See you for Clarence’s.”

  Her words reminded me that it was a feeding night, and as I collapsed onto my own bed, dejected, I wished we were already at Clarence’s. I got out the Love Phone and texted Adrian. Can’t wait to see you tonight. I wish you were here. I need you right now. No immediate answer came, probably because he was working on something for class. I kept writing anyway because it felt good to vent. I love you. The center will hold, and someday, we’ll get away from all this.

  When we picked him up for Clarence’s later, I had to fight the urge to get out of the car and run into his arms. Too much was weighing on me. Zoe. The trip to Los Angeles. I didn’t expect Adrian to fight my battles for me, but I just wished he could give me courage before them.

  He did without even knowing it, when we got a brief moment alone later. I’d gone to put our leftovers away in the kitchen, and he followed me after a minute or so. “Hey,” I said. My hand twitched with the need to touch him.

  “Everything okay?” he asked. I could see the same longing in him. “You didn’t look so great back there. I mean you always look great, but . . . you know what I mean.”

  “I do. Big fight with Zoe. Details don’t matter. The short version is she hates me right now.” I shrugged. “Welcome to my life. Did you get the car back? Did you get my texts?”

  “Ah.” He averted his eyes. “Yes to the first question. As for the second . . . I, uh, kind of lost the Love Phone.”

  “What?” My whole world reeled. “Adrian! That phone’s a record of everything that’s gone on between us. Please tell me you’ve been deleting everything after it comes in.”

  His guilty expression told me he hadn’t. “Relax. I didn’t lose it at Alchemist HQ or anything. I’m pretty sure I lost it at a coffee shop with Rowena yesterday. My name’s not on it or anything. Clarence is going to let me borrow his car, so I’ll go back and get it.”