Chapter 20

With the shock of recent events having abated, the academy settled back into its normal routine.

Alberta had Victor stashed away behind bars below academy grounds, awaiting transfer by a royal regiment of guardians. What would follow of his trial remained to be seen. Such things, Kirova said, took time.

As for Dashkov's daughter, the girl Natalie, nobody knew what to do. It was she that had been watching Lissa and sending her the dead animals. She had even been the one to rot the bench that had knocked down Rose. I found my teeth clenching at the memory of it, of her falling, screaming...the way I had felt her pain as if it were my own. She hadn't miraculously healed; her ankle really had broken, and Lissa had been the one to heal it.

I was even willing to bet that it was Natalie that had kept such close tabs on Rose and me, that it was she that had informed on us to her father. Really, anyone watching closely enough would have been able to see the way my eyes lingered on Rose. How she so openly regarded me back. Regardless of the anger I felt toward Victor, I couldn't fault his daughter for that. My lack of sense had been my own undoing. Dashkov had used his own daughter just like had used the rest of us, and I pitied her for it.

At least Lissa was recovering. I knew that Alberta had accommodated the girls when the headmistress had summoned them for an explanation of what had happened. All of Rose's fears and secrecy had proved needless. Nobody was taking Lissa away. But at the very least, now both Kirova and the guardians knew why they had run away.

When Alberta bumped into me afterward, she'd shook her head with sympathy that two young students could have such little faith in their own academy and teachers. To that, I could only answer, 'We raise them to be independent, after all.' But I felt a stab, knowing that Rose had not felt enough trust to confide in me.

'Yes, and god knows Rose takes her role very seriously already. She'll make a damn fine guardian, just like her mother.'

Not wanting to dwell on thoughts of Rose and the painful way things had ended between us, I'd only nodded. I was glad, at least, that the unfounded suspicion toward her had ended. Even Kirova had been impressed enough to end her house arrest. I hoped she was rejoicing.

As for Lissa, her powers and their side effects had to be disclosed to Kirova and a few choice others, not least because she needed help and support in managing the damaging side effects, but also because she needed guidance in how to control her magic. This instruction the Moroi teachers would provide to the best of their abilities, no other spirit users being known.

At least the princess seemed happy. I was glad to see her holding hands with the Ozera boy as they strolled through the school grounds, indifferent to whispers and gossip. Watching them, I was struck by another feeling, one not as welcome, of being at liberty to be in public in such a way, with only some derision and mockery as consequence.

But that would never be reality. So, shying away from the subject, I sought solace in church. It was late, and the priest had retired, but the early morning sunlight drew dusty streaks across the chancel. I sat with my arms dangling over the back of the pew, my hands knit together, as I sought forgiveness for yet another life taken. No molnija mark, this time.

I'd killed a real man, a dhampir, one of our own people. It had been necessary, but it had still been twisted and wrong. Sure, he had been in the employ of a bad person, and that made him complicit in the crime, but at the end of the day, guardian choices were limited. Some of us saw the appeal of better pay, better vacation, and bad men certainly knew how to buy the loyalties of the less morally scrupulous.

Regardless, I had ended a life. Strigoi were already dead, and killing them was a necessity, but it still smarted, knowing that you were wiping an entire person's memory from the world. Everything about them, gone.

The loss of a guardian who could have changed his ways a million times over in his lifetime was infinitely worse. As the prayer left my lips, murmured in Russian, I allowed myself to acknowledge his name. Guardian Farrel Collins. Thirty-six years old. No family. Another name forgotten, uttered by no lips no more.

He wasn't even the first man I had killed. What I'd told Rose...that I'd killed people...I hadn't meant just the Strigoi tattooed on my neck. That part of me, that was capable of such violence, such rage...I thought I'd mastered him for good. But Rose had forced me to become well acquainted with him again. She had instilled such fear in me, such a protective instinct, that I had believed myself capable of anything. Anything to save her. And to think that anyone could have such a hold on me, that she could have such a hold on me, it was too exposing, too risky, too dangerous. I would never be able to throw myself in front of any Moroi, in front of Lissa, if I harboured such feelings for Rose.

But this argument was becoming an old one. With a sigh, I got to my feet and left the church.

The next day I got up early for my guardian shift, shaking off the remnants of dreams best not acknowledged. I was to stand guard in Mr. Nagy's class, the first of the school day. He usually arrived early in the classroom to set up, and he even liked to exchange a word or two with the guardian on shift, which right now would be a pleasant diversion for me.

So when I stepped up to the door with the little window, I was mildly shocked to not see him there, organising his papers on the desk. It was only once I opened the door that I knew something was amiss. Nagy's legs were tangled on the floor, the rest of his body hidden behind the desk. Rushing forward, I saw blood splattered on the ground, and some on his neck. And his neck...

The bite was unmistakable. His pale skin and staring eyes corroborated what I already knew. Nagy had been drained of his blood. And if he had...that meant we had a Strigoi on campus.

I could only think of one person desperate enough to attempt it. Victor's knowing smirk flashed through my mind. The guardians murmuring how his daughter had screamed at the gates to the cells. Before another thought could form in my head, I was running.

The gate at the detention centre had been forced open. The guardians stationed there were unconscious, one with a huge gash on his head and the other with bruise marks around her throat. As I called for backup, I quickly checked their pulses. At my touch, Stephens came to and blinked up at me through a fog of pain.

'One Strigoi loose on campus,' I barked to Alberta. 'Two guardians down at the detention centre. It's Natalie. She's going to free prince Dashkov.'

Stephens was trying to say something, and while I heard Alberta dispatching orders, I leaned toward his lips.

'Help her...' he choked, gripping my arm. 'Hathaway...'

My heart froze.

'Belikov,' Alberta was saying, 'we're on our way—'

I shot to my feet. 'I'm going in.'

'Await backup—'

'I'm going in.' And without another word, I slammed the phone shut. Shoving the gate aside, I stormed through the hall and down the stairs, the duster flying in my wake. The stake was already in my hand. I heard voices and sounds of struggle bouncing off the walls, and as I turned a corner, I saw them.

Rose's body lay collapsed in a heap on the floor, and looming over her was the startling pale shape of Natalie. This much I acknowledged before I charged. Channelling every bit of frustration and every bit of anger into my body, I fought her, dodging away from her strikes and retaliating with a force summoned tenfold in Rose's defence. Nobody was going to harm her on my watch.

After both giving and receiving some hits, hits that I didn't even feel in the pumping adrenaline of the fight, I made my move. Natalie had the strength of a Strigoi, but she had none of the experience. Her movements, while strong, were unpractised, and it wasn't hard to find a direct path to her heart. I struck home, then yanked the stake out and stepped back, watching impassively as she screamed and dropped to the ground. As her body stopped moving, it dawned on me that I had just ended the life of a student.

Rose's moan ended that line of thinking. Turning to her, I stooped and scooped her into my arms. There wasn't a lot of blood, but the way her eyes were drifting told me that she'd suffered serious head trauma. I had to get her out of here. The need for action trumped all feeling.

Running as fast as I dared to with her bruised body jolting in my arms, I made it out of the corridor. Rose's voice drew my attention to her.

'Hey, Comrade,' she murmured, sounding sleepy, 'you were right about Strigoi.' Her eyelids began to droop.

'Rose,' I urged, feeling my chest clench with fear, hearing it loud and clear in my voice. 'Roza. Open your eyes. Don't go to sleep on me. Not yet.' I'd never been so scared in my life. I'd seen her harmed just a week ago, but it had been nowhere near this bad. For the first time, I was faced with the real possibility of her passing before I even made it to the clinic. And losing her...it was inconceivable.

The franticness in my voice seemed to rouse her. She squinted at me as I carried her out of the building. I barely heard her when she whispered, 'Was he right?'

I had no idea what she was talking about, but she needed to keep talking. Or I'd lose my mind.

'Who?' I urged.

'Victor...' Her eyes watched me through the haze of her deliriousness. 'He said it couldn't have worked. The necklace.'

When I didn't answer right away, Rose began to drift off. Prompting her back to consciousness, I said, 'What do you mean?'

'The spell,' she mumbled, her eyes blinking slowly. 'Victor said you had to want me...to care about me...for it to work.'

I felt hot and cold all over. So she knew the truth. Knew the futility of the words I had delivered only yesterday. I felt every agonising thought, every struggle, every guarded emotion come unravelled in my chest. What could I say, what could I tell her? This close to losing her, I was willing to do away with every rule, all propriety, all sense, just to keep her with me.

My hesitation roused some of Rose's impatience. Her fingers twitched by my shirt, and I knew she would have grabbed it if she could. 'Did you?' she implored me, her eyes on my face. 'Did you want me?'

Trust Rose to never let me off the hook. But this time, I couldn't lie. I wouldn't lie to her about my feelings ever again. Life or death did that to you. It wiped away all restraint.

My words thick with emotion, I answered. 'Yes, Roza. I did want you. I still do. I wish...we could be together.' I swallowed, drinking in the sight of her, accepting the truth of it, wonderful and daunting at the same time.

Rose's eyes filled with tears. 'Then why did you lie to me?'

I was spared answering just for a moment. We'd reached the clinic, and I slipped a hand out beneath her to yank the door open. As soon as we stepped inside, I was yelling for help.

But Rose did not relent. 'Why did you lie?' she murmured again, the tears threatening to spill over.

Holding her tight against my chest, I met her gaze and spoke the words that tore at me inside, the words I never wanted spoken aloud, the truth that I loathed with all my being. My voice was tight with the pain and all the injustice of it. 'Because we can't be together.'

'Because of the age thing, right?' she guessed. 'Because you're my mentor?'

One of her tears did escape then, trailing a path down her cheek. I reached forward with a fingertip to wipe it gently away. 'That's part of it,' I began, steeling myself to utter the real truth this time. 'But also...well, you and I will both be Lissa's guardians someday. I need to protect her at all costs. If a pack of Strigoi come, I need to throw my body between them and her.'

'I know that,' Rose said. 'Of course that's what you have to do.' Her eyes began to drift again. Time was running out; she was fading away.

'No,' I said, tightening my arms around her, just to keep her a moment longer. Just a tiny moment longer. 'If I let myself love you, I won't throw myself in front of her. I'll throw myself in front of you.'

Rose's eyes had time only to widen with understanding. Then the medical team was taking her out of my arms.