Adrian sighed. "Why is everything so complicated with you?"
"Will you help me? Please, Adrian?" I ran my fingers along his hand. "Please help me."
Low, low. This was so low of me, but it didn't matter. Only Dimitri did.
Finally, Adrian looked back at me. For the first time ever, he looked vulnerable. "When you come back, will you give me a fair shot?"
I hid my surprise. "What do you mean?"
"It's like I said. You've never wanted me, never even considered me. The flowers, the flirting … it rolled right off you. You were so gone for him, and nobody noticed. If you go do your thing, will you take me seriously? Will you give me a chance when you return?"
I stared. I definitely hadn't expected this. My initial instinct was to say no, that I could never love anybody again, that my heart had been shattered along with that piece of my soul that Dimitri held. But Adrian was looking at me so earnestly, and there was none of his joking nature. He meant what he said, and I realized all the affection for me he'd always teased about hadn't been a joke either. Lissa had been right about his feelings.
"Will you?" he repeated.
God only knows what you'll do now that he's gone.
"Of course." Not an honest answer, but a necessary one.
Adrian looked away and drank more vodka. There wasn't much left. "When are you leaving?"
"Tomorrow."
Setting the bottle down, he stood up and walked off into the bedroom. He returned with a large stack of cash. I wondered if he kept it under his bed or something. He handed it to me wordlessly and then picked up the phone and made some calls. The sun was up, and the human world, which handled most Moroi money, was also up and awake.
I tried to watch TV while he talked, but I couldn't concentrate. I kept wanting to scratch the back of my neck. Because there was no way of knowing exactly how many Strigoi I and the others had killed, we'd all been given a different kind of tattoo instead of the usual set of molnija marks. I'd forgotten its name, but this tattoo looked like a little star. It meant that the bearer had been in a battle and killed many Strigoi.
When he finally finished his calls, Adrian handed me a piece of paper. It had the name and address of a bank in Missoula.
"Go there," he said. "I'm guessing you have to go to Missoula first anyway if you're actually going on to anywhere civilized. There's an account set up for you with … a lot of money in it. Talk to them, and they'll finish the paperwork with you."
I stood up and stuffed the bills in my jacket. "Thank you," I said.
Without hesitating, I reached out and hugged him. The scent of vodka was overpowering, but I felt I owed him. I was taking advantage of his feelings for me in order to further my own devices. He put his arms around me and held me for several seconds before letting go. I brushed my lips against his cheek as we broke apart, and I thought he might stop breathing.
"I won't forget this," I murmured in his ear.
"I don't suppose you'll tell me where you're going?" he asked.
"No," I said. "I'm sorry."
"Just keep your promise and come back."
"I didn't actually use the word promise," I pointed out.
He smiled and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "You're right. I'm going to miss you, little dhampir. Be careful. If you ever need anything, let me know. I'll be waiting for you."
I thanked him again and left, not bothering to tell him he might be waiting a long time. There was a very real possibility that I might not be coming back.
The next day, I got up early, long before most of campus was awake. I'd hardly slept. I slung a bag over my shoulder and walked over to the main office in the administrative building. The office wasn't open yet either, so I sat down on the floor in the hallway outside of it. Studying my hands as I waited, I noticed two tiny flecks of gold on my thumbnail. They were the only remnants of my manicure. About twenty minutes later, the secretary showed up with the keys and let me in.
"What can I do for you?" she asked, once she was seated at her desk.
I handed her a stack of papers I'd been holding. "I'm withdrawing."
Her eyes widened to impossible size. "But…what…you can't…"
I tapped the stack. "I can. It's all filled out."
Still gaping, she muttered something to me about waiting, and then scurried out of the room. A few minutes later, she returned with Headmistress Kirova. Kirova had apparently been briefed and was looking at me very disapprovingly down her beaklike nose.
"Miss Hathaway, what's the meaning of this?"
"I'm leaving," I said. "Quitting. Dropping out. Whatever."
"You can't do that," she said.
"Well, obviously I can, since you guys keep withdrawal paperwork in the library. It's all filled out the way it needs to be."
Her anger changed into something sadder and more anxious. "I know a lot has gone on lately—we're all having trouble adjusting—but that's no reason to make a hasty decision. If anything, we need you more than ever." She was almost pleading. Hard to believe she'd wanted to expel me six months ago. "This wasn't hasty," I said. "I thought a lot about it."
"Let me at least get your mother so we can talk this out."
"She left for Europe three days ago. Not that it matters anyway." I pointed to the line on the top form that said date of birth. "I'm eighteen today. She can't do anything anymore. This is my choice. Now, will you stamp the form, or are you actually going to try to restrain me? Pretty sure I could take you in a fight, Kirova."
They stamped my packet, not happily. The secretary made a copy of the official paper that declared I was no longer a student at St. Vladimir's Academy. I'd need it to get out the main gate.
It was a long walk to the front of the school, and the western sky was red as the sun slipped over the horizon. The weather had warmed up, even at night. Spring had finally come. It made for good walking weather since I had a ways to go before I made it to the highway. From there, I'd hitchhike to Missoula. Hitchhiking wasn't safe, but the silver stake in my coat pocket made me feel pretty secure about anything I'd face. No one had taken it away from me after the raid, and it would work just as well against creepy humans as it did with Strigoi.
I could just make out the gates when I sensed her. Lissa. I stopped walking and turned toward a cluster of bud-covered trees. She'd been standing in them, perfectly still, and had managed to hide her thoughts so well that I hadn't realized she was practically right next to me. Her hair and eyes glowed in the sunset, and she seemed too beautiful and too ethereal to be part of this dreary landscape.
"Hey," I said.
"Hey." She wrapped her arms around herself, cold even in her coat. Moroi didn't have the same resistance to temperature changes that dhampirs did. What I found warm and springlike was still chilly to her. "I knew it," she said. "Ever since that day they said his body was gone. Something told me you'd do this. I was just waiting."
"Can you read my mind now?" I asked ruefully.
"No, I can just read you. Finally. I can't believe how blind I was. I can't believe I never noticed. Victor's comment… he was right." She glanced off at the sunset, then turned her gaze back on me. A flash of anger, both in her feelings and her eyes, hit me. "Why didn't you tell me?" she cried. "Why didn't you tell me you loved Dimitri?"
I stared. I couldn't remember the last time Lissa had yelled at anyone. Maybe last fall, when all the Victor insanity had gone down. Loud outbursts were my thing, not hers. Even when torturing Jesse, her voice had been deadly quiet.