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The Fiery Heart
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Текст книги "The Fiery Heart"


Автор книги: Richelle Mead



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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

I finally looked over at her, sitting cross‑legged on her bed. A pang stirred in my heart. Despite all the jealousy and suspicion, she was still my sister, and she loved me. She was just confused and insecure about her life right now, which was totally understandable. I was pretty sure she didn’t want this strife between us any more than I did. It was just the lot we’d been given.

“I’ll be fine. The Moroi are safe, and they want my help. Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

She still looked skeptical. “But you’re staying overnight with them. Surrounded by them.  Couldn’t you have gotten a hotel in a nearby town? Isn’t that what we usually do for trips there? It would keep you away from them.”

It would also keep me away from Adrian. “Staying on‑site means I can finish my work faster and get home faster,” I said reasonably. That was hard logic to beat. “And I survived staying with them when they were all partying and drinking champagne at that wedding. This has to be better.”

“Text me all the time so that I know you’re okay.”

I couldn’t help a smile. “I’ll see what I can do. And you text me too on how everything’s going.”

“I will,” she assured me, nodding eagerly. “I’ll be just like you.”

“I know you’ll do a great job.” I actually meant it. She was smart and competent–and now motivated.

“And I’ll make sure they get dinner at Clarence’s and that Angeline doesn’t do anything crazy. Too crazy.” Her lips turned up in a mischievous smile. “Did you hear that she threatened to sue the school for misrepresentation when her history teacher explained that the War of 1812 lasted until 1815?”

“No, I hadn’t heard that.” I shook my head in exasperation yet was secretly thrilled to hear Zoe laughing over someone she thought of as a wacky acquaintance–and not as a creature of evil.

“I’ll keep her in line, don’t worry.” Zoe grew a little more serious. “I don’t suppose . . . well, could I drive them? You know I can do it. And it’s not that far.”

“It’s not legal,” I rebuked gently, hating to see the longing in her. “If you got pulled over–”

“I wouldn’t! I’d be careful.”

“It’s the other drivers you have to worry about,” I said, knowing I sounded like a driving instructor. “Just keep practicing with Eddie. You’ll get your license at some point.”

She sighed. “But when?”

“The next time you’re back in Utah, I guess.”

A moment of silence descended between us. From her face, I had a good guess at what she was thinking. When would she be back in Utah? I knew my dad wouldn’t let her stay license‑less forever. It was something she needed for the job. It wasn’t a priority for him right now, though, so she’d have to wait. If she went back there to live with our mom, however . . .

“I guess . . . I guess I’ll just be patient.” Her mournful look intensified. “Anyway. I’ll worry about you until you get back.”

I patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t. This is one of those times you can’t think of me as your sister. Treat me like I’m another Alchemist, off to do a job.”

“It’s hard,” she said, in a voice that made my heart break. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You’ll learn to,” I said.

My flight was leaving soon, and I spent the rest of our time together trying to look stoic and resigned about this unpleasant mission. But after a while, I had to admit that I was secretly elated. Adrian and I were getting away from here! True, it was no free‑for‑all, but it’d be a relief to be away from suspicious eyes–and to actually have reason to be together.

Just like the last time Adrian and I had flown to Court, we rendezvoused in Los Angeles for our connection to Philadelphia. He and Neil were already waiting at our gate when I arrived, and I paused in my approach to study them. Neil was reading a martial arts book. Adrian had the poetry book I’d given him open on his lap and was staring out the window. The light illuminated his fair skin and sculpted features, and even from here, I wanted to run my fingers through his dark hair. There was a pensive expression on his face, and I wondered if he was worried about our upcoming task. Things had been calm and steady for the last couple of weeks, which had me on edge that we were due for another episode of spirit’s revenge.

“Sage,” he said, when I resumed my approach. The brooding look vanished, replaced by his sly, lazy one. “Ready for an arctic expedition?” He nodded at the parka I carried. Faux fur, of course. “I bet you’ve gotten a lot of strange looks hauling that around here.”

“Didn’t you check the weather for where we’re going? Never mind. Of course you didn’t.” Neil at least had on a sturdy ski jacket, but Adrian’s peacoat didn’t reassure me. I supposed it was promising that he had anything at all. “Is that all you brought?”

“It’s my best‑looking coat,” he said.

“So I take it that’s a yes.”

“Style over substance, Sage. I’ve got a lot of adoring fans back there that’ll expect me to look my best. Can’t weigh myself down in . . . well, down.”

I put on my best look of disdain. “Well, don’t come crying to me when you’re out in twenty‑degree weather. I’m here to do real work, not babysit you.”

Neil shook his head at Adrian and gave me a sympathetic look before returning to his book. As soon as his attention was off us, I caught Adrian’s eye. Neither of us dared to smile, but the knowing glint in those green depths made my heart rate pick up.

And . . . it continued to beat pretty fast for the rest of our travels. The three of us sat together in coach (earning no end of melodrama from Adrian), with me in between them. Neil was content to read about attack techniques and barely said two words to us. Adrian and I were each theoretically preoccupied with our own reading material, but I knew both of us were more fixated on each other’s proximity. Our legs pressed together, and I was as guilty as he was about stolen touches. When the flight attendant came by with beverages, I practically ended up in his lap while reaching for my Diet Coke. And when Adrian wanted new reading material, he decided to search the pocket in front of me for magazines first, leaning so that his hand brushed my thigh. Even through my jeans, that touch was provocative and made me think of all the times he’d run his hands over my legs.

It was agonizing . . . and exquisite.

It was also frustrating. I spent most of the flight obsessing over each touch and when we’d touch again. These casual brushes set me aflame, but by the time we neared our destination, all I could think about was when we’d get a chance to be alone so that we could be done with this subterfuge. Judging from Adrian’s growing silence and the way his breath caught when our eyes locked, I had a feeling I wasn’t the only one thinking indecent thoughts. Get a grip, Sydney,  I thought. Or at least a cold shower. Aren’t you supposed to be turning your mind to higher pursuits of knowledge?

I was so consumed by my turbulent feelings that Neil totally caught me by surprise when our flight was descending. “Do you think I’ll have a chance to see Olive?”

Adrian glanced up from his poetry book. “Probably. This whole thing is because of her blood, so I’m sure she’ll be around.”

“That’s not what I–” Neil bit his lip and looked out the window. “Never mind.”

“Ohhh,” said Adrian, with a wink that was lost on Neil. “There’s see and see.  You mean see.  I’m sure there’ll be time between our breathtaking discoveries for you to take each other’s breath away in a different kind of way.”

Neil turned back, blushing bright red. “It’s not that like that. We’ve been e‑mailing since we met, and we really connect.”

“Well, there’s connect and–”

“Adrian, stop helping.” To Neil, I said, “I don’t know her, but whatever we have to do isn’t going to be solved in five minutes. You’ll have time and won’t even be on constant duty.” That brightened him up immensely.

Once we were in Philadelphia, we rented a car for the rest of the trip. Normal trips to the Court’s location on the edge of the Pocono Mountains usually relied on puddle jumper planes to a rural airport thirty minutes away, but those flights were infrequent, hence the car. The trip took us about two and a half hours, a drive that would’ve been scenic in the middle of the day. But between the flights and the time changes, darkness had long since overtaken us, something that put Neil on high alert. He sat beside me as I drove, barely blinking as he scanned around us. I’d talked a good talk to Zoe about my safety, but that had been regarding Moroi. I’d forgotten that where Moroi grouped, Strigoi often followed, and dark roads leading to Court were fraught with danger at night. I didn’t think  any Strigoi would come leaping onto the car as we drove at sixty miles per hour, but I was grateful for Neil’s painstaking diligence. Despite his teasing, I think Adrian was as well.

It was midnight when we finally crossed the Court’s borders. Neil was as stiff and rigid as ever, but Adrian had sprawled out and fallen asleep in the backseat. He yawned and stretched his arms as I slowed down to talk to the guards at the gate. As far as most humans were concerned, the Court was a very specialized and private college. It certainly looked like one, with venerable ivy‑covered buildings and broad, beautiful courtyards. But as sharp‑eyed dhampirs peered into the car, I was reminded of Zoe’s warnings. I was about to enter a compound of supernatural creatures.

“Lord Ivashkov,” said one of the guards, noticing Adrian. “Welcome back.”

Adrian smothered another yawn and nodded. Lord Ivashkov. I forgot sometimes that Adrian was part of a royal family and that even minor members could use “lord” and “lady” when they were adults. It was unreal to think I was dating royalty. Even more unreal that these days his title weirded me out more than the fact that he was a vampire did.

The dhampir gestured to a narrow dirt road leading around outskirts of the Court’s central grounds. “Follow that around and park behind the palace,” he said. “You’re expected.”

“The palace,” I muttered, once he’d waved us on. “We aren’t in Palm Springs anymore.”

“It’s just what they call where the queen lives,” said Adrian. He leaned forward and stuck his head between Neil and me. “Looks just like any other academic building. You’ll feel right at home.”

That wasn’t entirely true. Once we’d parked and been admitted through a back door, a guide led us down grand corridors illuminated by crystal chandeliers and lined with portraits depicting centuries of Moroi monarchs. Those delicate, pale faces watched me, reminding me that I truly was in another world–a world where I was the outsider. The old Alchemist anxiety began to bubble up, and I told myself over and over that I was a guest here. No one would try to hurt me. And if they did, Adrian wouldn’t let them.

I knew the queen’s residence had an actual throne room and other areas for state functions, but tonight we were taken to a more casual setting: a media room. Definitely not something I imagined when I thought of palaces. A giant TV screen hung on the wall and displayed some show in which people appeared to be competing in teams on a muddy obstacle course. Large plush sofas were arranged around the screen and held various Moroi and dhampirs who didn’t notice our entrance. A couple of guardians standing watch on opposite sides of the room saw us instantly, of course. I turned my attention to the spectators on the couch, one of whom I recognized right away.

“Come on!” Rose leapt to her feet and held her hands out beseechingly to the screen. “It was right in front of you, you idiot! Are you blind? You just gave them the win!”

“Actually,” said Adrian, coming to stand beside me. “The green team wins. This is a rerun.”

Everyone turned toward us, and someone shut off the sound. I heard a small shriek, and then a lithe blond figure darted up and threw her arms around Adrian. “You made it!”

He grinned and patted her back. “What’d I tell you, cousin? I’m your subject, and a subject serves his queen.”

Lissa Dragomir didn’t look particularly queenly just then. She was my age, and her long platinum hair was tied into a ponytail that hung sloppily down the back of her Lehigh sweatshirt. I hardly knew her, but her resemblance to Jill–mostly in the form of their light green eyes and high cheekbones–made her feel familiar. She broke from Adrian and turned to Neil and me. The gleeful smile she’d given Adrian turned to one a bit more formal, but still just as genuine.

“Sydney, I’m so happy to see you again. If there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know. And you must be Neil.”

“Your majesty.” Neil swept her a bow so low that his forehead touched the ground. Above him, Adrian rolled his eyes.

“Easy there, Lancelot,” Adrian said. “I don’t think bowing is required when she’s in jeans and bunny slippers.”

Neil rose gracefully to his feet. “A queen’s regality is not diminished by her attire.”

Adrian glanced at the others for sympathy. “We’ve been together for almost ten hours today.”

Lissa’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Introductions were made to those who needed them. I knew most of the major players in the room. Dimitri and Sonya were there, full of smiles for me, and Rose went so far as to give me a hug. I’d met Lissa’s boyfriend, Christian Ozera, briefly before, and although I didn’t know him well, he gave me a nod of greeting. He and Adrian regarded each other warily, and I recalled something Adrian had once told me about him: “His aunt’s in prison for killing my aunt. I don’t blame him for it. He doesn’t blame me. We still like each other. But that doesn’t mean things aren’t weird, you know?”

Two girls sat together on a loveseat, keeping their distance and watching the reunion quietly. One was a dhampir with black hair and coppery skin. The other, a Moroi, had a multitude of dark curls and beautiful gray eyes. Judging from the way Neil couldn’t take his eyes off the dhampir, I could guess who the girls were. Adrian gave them one of his most charismatic grins.

“Well, well. Looks like you guys survived the trip, huh? I hope they’ve been showing you a good time. The royal treatment, if you will. Golden faucets. Velvet robes. Champagne for breakfast. And for lunch. And dinner. In fact, why isn’t there a bottle in here now?”

Olive and Nina Sinclair responded with smiles, especially Nina. “You didn’t bring it?” she asked, with a bit more warmth than I liked.

“I can send for some,” said Lissa. She started to turn toward one of the guards at the door, but Adrian waved her off.

“Nah, we’ve got to be all responsible and stuff to deal with the spirit problem, right? We can celebrate later. Besides, Belikov can’t hold his liquor.”

Dimitri looked startled at that, and I had to repress a laugh at Adrian’s deflection. When he was here, “Lord Ivashkov” could probably get anything he wanted, and I was proud of Adrian for holding true to his promise to steer clear of his vices. It was just as well he was facing away from me at the time because my face probably would’ve betrayed my affection.

Formal introductions were made between the Sinclair sisters and me. They murmured polite greetings and regarded me with curiosity before they dismissed me, turning their attention back to the others. An Alchemist was a novelty but nothing particularly exciting.

I assumed we’d all be reconvening in the morning, but as Sonya began discussing what she’d learned about Olive’s blood sample, I realized we were doing business here and now. I nearly groaned as the obvious hit me. It’s the middle of their day. They’re all bright‑eyed and ready to get going.  That was probably why Adrian had power napped. Neil, as a dhampir, would have extra stamina and be able to go longer without sleep. But me? I was merely human, and it was past my bedtime in Palm Springs. But, if they were ready to do this, then so was I. A yawn started to well up in me, and I staunchly put it down.

“There’s no question about it,” Sonya was saying. “That blood sample is brimming with a kind of spirit we’ve never seen. And that charm you put on the silver is ingenious, but–”

The door burst open, and a Moroi man came striding forward with a guardian on his heels. “The gang’s all here, I see. You must have forgotten to send for me.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “You weren’t invited, old man.”

Abe Mazur, her flamboyantly dressed father, clucked his tongue in disapproval. “Yes, because it makes perfect sense that one of the biggest breakthroughs in our world should be left in the hands of kids.”

“I’m almost thirty,” protested Sonya.

“Exactly my point.” Abe took in his surroundings and brightened when he saw me. “My favorite Alchemist. So nice of you to lend your expertise.”

I gave him a tight smile. “Happy to help.”

Through some unspoken command, a servant appeared with drinks and snacks–though no champagne. Once everyone had reconciled themselves to Abe’s uninvited presence, Sonya returned to her presentation and handed Adrian a small box. Curious, I walked over to study it, very conscious of the scant inches between us. The box held a small vial of blood with silver rings around it. After a few moments of scrutiny, I glanced up and saw Sonya watching Adrian and me with a frown. Her features smoothed when she noticed me looking at her.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Is there any way to reinforce the seals around it?”

Adrian looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Um, I don’t think so. I used up all my tricks doing this the first time.”

“But you can feel the way the spirit’s intertwined with the blood’s substance,” she pointed out. Again, he seemed troubled.

“Yeah, I noticed. That’s nothing I can replicate.”

“Me either,” Sonya said.

“Me either,” added Lissa.

Sonya sighed. “And that’s the key, I think. Even if we can’t sense it in Olive’s blood anymore, I’m certain it altered her in a way that now prevents Strigoi conversion. If we could do that for others . . .”

He nodded in agreement. “Yup. But I don’t know how. Unless . . .”

I noticed then how everyone in the room was watching him, faces expectant. They were deferring to his expertise. Adrian had been right about one thing when defending his use of spirit: He’d done what no one else could. I wondered if anyone–including him–had ever expected they’d reach a point where he would be a respected authority, not just a joke. That kind of responsibility and prestige suited him. Lord Ivashkov.

He looked at Lissa. “You’d mentioned making this into some kind of tattoo maybe, right? I wonder if it’s as easy as injecting it into someone else? I mean, isn’t that how a vaccine works? When someone fights off a disease, you get . . .” He groped for the word and looked to me for confirmation. “Antibodies?” I nodded. “Would this be the same? The magic spreads to someone else?”

“I can’t even begin to guess if there’s an equivalency between those two,” I admitted. “But when vampire blood is suspended in an Alchemist tattoo, some of that Moroi quick healing and resistance to sickness spreads to us.” If magic use really had negated my tattoo, I wondered if I’d lost my immunity too. I hated colds.

Adrian lit up. “Could you make a similar tattoo with this blood?”

I hesitated. “Theoretically. We don’t know that it’d work. And I’ve never made that kind of ink before.”

“That’d be remedial work for you,” he said confidently. “And there are always guardian tattooists around here. What else do you need?”

“I can get you whatever it is,” Abe assured me.

“I’d need–”

I stopped, and the world reeled. I can get you whatever it is.Yes, he probably could. Abe Mazur was a man who could get all sorts of things, even the ingredients to a potential Strigoi‑protection tattoo.

Ingredients that would be nearly identical to the ones used in a regular Alchemist tattoo.

They were out of my reach but not Abe’s. He probably wouldn’t even need to use any illicit channels. He’d once smuggled C4 into Court, after all. I knew he had Alchemist contacts and could make a good case for why the Moroi needed to do this experiment. The Alchemists would certainly support it. Really, though, it didn’t matter if Abe got the ingredients through legitimate or shady means. What mattered was that he could get what I needed without it actually being linked to me and a personal project to crack Alchemist compulsion.

“I can get you a list of things,” I said as casually as I could. “We should double it, though. In case I make a mistake.” Adrian met my eyes, and I could tell he’d picked up on what I was thinking.

Rose scoffed. “Have you ever made a mistake in your life?”

“Remains to be seen,” I murmured. I stifled a yawn. “Get me some paper, and I’ll write you a list.” I couldn’t hide my next yawn.

Sonya looked at me in sympathy. “Let poor Sydney go to bed. She’s not on our schedule. We can’t expect her to do this on no sleep, and we don’t even have what we need yet.”

Lissa looked mortified. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Sydney. I wasn’t thinking.”

I logged into an Alchemist database on my phone in order to find the ingredient list. Lissa called for another servant while I wrote out what I’d need. As we waited, Christian asked, “Who are you going to give the tattoo to?”

Silence fell. “Me,” said Rose at last. “It should be a dhampir. We’ve got the strongest bodies to handle something like that, and besides, if it works, we’re more likely to run into Strigoi.”

“You’re too valuable to the queen,” said Neil. “I’ll do it, in case something goes wrong.”

“Nothing’s going to go wrong,” said Adrian hotly.

Rose ignored him and glared at Neil. “ I’ll  do it. No one else is going to risk themselves for this.”

“What’s your blood type?” I asked, looking between them. I turned to Olive. “And yours?”

“Don’t get her involved,” warned Neil.

“O positive,” said Olive defiantly.

“B negative,” said Rose.

Neil shot frustrated glances to both of them. “A positive.”

“You win,” I told Neil. I honestly thought a Moroi receiver would be best, but I had a feeling none of them would budge on that. Standard blood‑typing rules seemed like a safe bet, though.

Rose’s hurt expression implied I’d purposely betrayed her. Olive, excited for Neil, hurried over to his side. He puffed up with pride at her attention, and the scientist in Sonya decided she had no more patience for drama. “Fine. Neil gets it. Now for God’s sake, get Sydney over to guest housing.”

“I’ll go too,” said Adrian. He yawned, and I was pretty sure it was faked. “I’ve been around humans too long.”

“You aren’t staying at your parents’ place?” asked Lissa.

Adrian scoffed. “Not if my dad’s there. I actually want peace and quiet.”

Lissa’s servant arrived, and Rose decided to accompany us, thinking she was the only one I was truly comfortable with. As we were walking out, Nina hurried up and caught Adrian’s sleeve. I was close enough that I could hear her, despite her lowered voice.

“I was hoping we could talk some more,” she told him. “Do you think you’ll have time tomorrow?”

Adrian put on the gallant smile most women received. “Sounds great, but I don’t know if I’ll have a chance. I think they expect me to work. It’s such a pain being responsible.”

Rose overheard. “Oh, yeah. So inconvenient, helping with a major breakthrough in Moroi life. Poor, poor Adrian.”

Adrian winked at Nina. “I’ll let you know.”

We left, but not before I saw the longing in Nina’s eyes. Even I could guess her intentions.

Guest housing was in one of the other venerable buildings, and we cut through a courtyard to get there. Light snow was falling, and I tugged my coat around me tightly. Adrian didn’t complain, but he looked a little blue when we reached the building’s lobby. It was run like a hotel, and Rose took it upon herself to arrange our rooms. I lingered on the far side of the lobby, and Adrian strolled over.

“You have no idea how cute you look with all those snowflakes in your hair,” he murmured.

“And you look cute with hypothermia. I hope to God you can get a real coat while you’re here.”

He grinned. “You’ll have to warm me up later. You know I was just playing it up for Nina, right? There’s only one girl for me, but around here, I have to act like there’s a dozen.”

“Only one dozen?” I asked.

“Hey,” Rose called to us. “You’ve got a room with a view on the second floor, Adrian. Sydney–what’s going to make you feel better about creatures of the night? Easy escape on the first floor or distance on the second?”

“Second,” I said, face neutral. “I’ll climb out the window if I need to.”

She led us upstairs and wished Adrian a good night. I received a personal escort to my room, and she looked around it with approval. “Same thing they’d give a royal. Is it okay?”

I wandered around, taking in the enormous suite with its sleek furniture and state‑of‑the‑art entertainment center. “Uh, yeah. I’d say so.”

“I know how weird this must be,” she said kindly. “But we’re doing big things here. At least that’s what everyone says.”

“They’re right,” I said. “And after rooming with Jill and fleeing authorities with you, this is kind of a non‑event.”

That got me one of her brilliant smiles. I was struck by how beautiful she was and couldn’t help a pang of insecurity as I recalled that Adrian had once been so close to her–romantically and physically. Quickly, I pushed those worries aside. The past was done. I had no doubts about Adrian. Rose left with more assurances and urged me to let her know if I needed anything. When she finally took off, I settled into unpacking. Five minutes later, Adrian showed up at my door.

“Damn,” he said, kicking it shut. He grabbed hold of me and pushed me against the wall. “You have no idea what I’ve gone through today.”

I put my arms around his neck and pulled him even closer. “Actually, I have a pretty good idea,” I said, just before I met his lips in a crushing kiss.

There was an urgency in him that answered my own, and all the tightly wound tension I’d carried today exploded between us. He ran his hands over my body and then caught hold of one of my legs and hiked it up beside his hip. My blood burned within me, and I no longer felt even the least bit tired.

As sexy as an against‑the‑wall make‑out session was, we eventually retired to my bed, which gave us both easier access to clothes, skin . . .

I sat beside him on the bed and helped him take off my sweater. “Who knew that escape plan number seventy‑one would end up being ‘Vacation at Moroi Court.’”

He laughed and then brought his lips to the nape of my neck, making me shiver. “Well, why not? No Zoe . . . no Alchemists . . . no time constraints.” He trailed his lips to my shoulder and gently pushed the bra strap down. “We have a lot of freedom, Sage, and a lot of privacy.”

I couldn’t help a small gasp as his skilled lips continued their exploration. I closed my eyes and sank down into the bed, drawing him to me. This could be it, I realized. What I’d been preparing for. We finally had a very real chance to have sex without detection or interruption. It was heady. When were we going to get a chance to do this again?

And yet, as his touch continued to drive me wild, some old, frightened instinct held me back. What was I waiting for? Why was I still afraid? I wanted him, and I loved him, yet some part of me still kept hesitating. It was maddening, especially since my body was screaming for Adrian to rip my clothes off. I opened my eyes and found him looking at me.

“It’s okay,” he said, guessing my thoughts.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He placed a kiss on the tip of my nose. “Nothing’s wrong with you.”

“I want this. I really do. I just feel like I’m waiting for something.”

“Then wait.” The kindness and patience in his green eyes–mingled with unquestionable desire–made my heart ache.

“I just hate to waste this room and this night,” I admitted.

He pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the floor. “Who said we’re wasting anything?” He stretched his body out alongside mine and leaned in for another kiss. “Maybe we’re not doing it, but believe me, Sage, there are plenty of other ways to pass the time.”

CHAPTER 15

ADRIAN

I SLEPT WITH SYDNEY THAT NIGHT–in the literal sense, not the sexual one.

And it was glorious. I hadn’t thought I could feel such joy over something so simple. For so long, I’d wished we could have more time together, that I could just drink her in and not be pressured by everything conspiring against us. Here it was.

It was also a little torturous at times. It made yesterday’s travel tension seem downright easy. Even in a T‑shirt and flannel pajama pants, she was agonizingly sexy. As she lay wrapped in my arms, sleeping with her head against my chest, I found myself thinking a lot about the thin fabric of her shirt and how there was nothing on underneath it. I thought a lot about what it’d be like to remove those clothes. I thought a lot about what I’d do after that. I loved her for her beautiful soul and desired her for her beautiful body. There was nothing sordid about it. It was nature.

As a result, sleep didn’t come easy for me. My earlier nap probably didn’t help matters. When I wasn’t fantasizing about Sydney, my mind wandered to our mission here and the potentially crackpot idea of using Olive’s blood to make an Alchemist‑like tattoo for Neil. Everyone was looking to Sydney and me to pull it off. I was pretty  sure the spirit‑infused blood wouldn’t hurt Neil, so, much like Sydney’s own experimental tattoo, there’d probably be no harm done in trying. After all, we were out of options for the blood. It was as good an idea as any and really didn’t bother me.

What did bother me was my rapidly decreasing grasp of spirit. When Sonya had asked me about sensing what was in the vial, I’d had to lie. She was one of the best spirit users at reading truth but had thankfully been too distracted to notice. Because the thing was, I hadn’t been able to read anything  off of it. I knew there had to be spirit in the blood, based on her and Lissa’s observations, but I could no longer sense it. I could no longer see auras either, and although I’d made no healing attempts, I could guess those results too.


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