I knew now wasn’t the time to share my insight, though. Even if they knew it, no one wanted to hear it, and I couldn’t risk telling it. I needed to toe the line and act like I was on the road to redemption in order to secure as many privileges as I could, no matter how painful it was to listen as Harrison continued his tirade.
“Another factor may be that the Moroi themselves are aiding the increase in the Strigoi population. If you ask them, most Moroi will claim they want nothing to do with Strigoi. But can we really trust that, when they can so easily turn into those vile monsters? It’s practically a stage of development for the Moroi. They live ‘normal’ lives with children and jobs, then when age starts to catch up with them … well, how convenient to just drink a little longer from their ‘willing’ victims, claim it was an ‘accident’ … and poof!” The number of air quotes Harrison used as he spoke was truly mind-boggling to follow. “They turn Strigoi, immortal and untouchable. How could they not? The Moroi are not strong-willed creatures, not like humans. And certainly not strong-souled. How can such creatures resist the lure of eternal life?” Harrison shook his head in mock sadness. “This, I’m afraid, is why Strigoi populations aren’t dropping. Our so-called allies aren’t exactly helping us.”
“Where’s your proof?”
That voice of dissent was a shock to everyone in the room—especially when they realized it had come from me. I wanted to smack myself and take the words back. I’d barely been out of imprisonment for two hours! But it was too late, and the words were out there. My own personal interest in the Moroi aside, I couldn’t stand when people posited speculation and sensationalism as facts. The Alchemists should’ve known better, having trained me in the arts of logic.
All those eyes fell on me again, and Harrison came to stand in front of my desk. “It’s Sydney, correct? So charming to have you in class so fresh out of your reflection time. It’s especially charming to hear you speak so soon after joining us. Most newcomers bide their time. Now … would you be so kind as to repeat what you just said?”
I swallowed, again hating myself for having spoken, but it was too late to change things. “I asked where your proof was, sir. Your points are compelling and even seem reasonable, but if we don’t have proof to back them up, then we’re nothing but monsters ourselves, spreading lies and propaganda.”
There was a collective intake of breath from the rest of the detainees, and Harrison narrowed his eyes. “I see. Well then, do you have an explanation backed by ‘proof’?” More air quotes.
Why, why, why couldn’t I have just stayed quiet?
“Well, sir,” I began slowly. “Even if there were as many dhampir guardians as Strigoi, they wouldn’t be evenly matched. Strigoi are almost always stronger and faster, and while some guardians do make solo kills, often they need to hunt Strigoi in groups. When you look at the actual dhampir population, you see it’s not a match for the Strigoi one. The dhampirs are outnumbered. They aren’t able to reproduce as easily as Moroi and humans—or even Strigoi, if you want to call it that.”
“Well, from what I understand,” said Harrison, “you are an expert at reproduction with Moroi. Perhaps you’d be personally interested in helping increase those dhampir numbers yourself, yes?”
Snickers sounded from around the class, and I found myself blushing in spite of myself. “That wasn’t my intent here at all, sir. I’m just saying, if we’re going to critically analyze the reasons why—”
“Sydney,” he interrupted, “I’m afraid we won’t be analyzing anything, as it’s obvious you aren’t quite ready to participate with the rest of us.”
My heart stopped. No. No, no, no. They couldn’t send me back to the darkness, not when I’d only just gotten out.
“Sir—”
“I think,” he continued, “that a little purging might make you better able to participate with the rest of us.”
I had no idea what that meant, but two burly men in suits suddenly entered the classroom, which must have been under surveillance. I attempted another protest to Harrison, but the men swiftly escorted me out of the room before I could make much of a plea to my instructor. So I tried arguing with the henchmen instead, going on about how there was clearly some sort of misunderstanding and how if they’d just give me a second chance, we could work all of this out. They remained silent and stone-faced, however, and my stomach sank at the prospect of being locked away again. I’d been so condescending toward what I viewed as the Alchemists’ mind games with creature comforts that I hadn’t realized how dependent I’d already grown on them. The thought of being stripped of my dignity and basic needs again was almost too much to bear.
But they only took me down one floor this time, not back to the level with the cells. And the room they led me to was painfully well-lit, with a larger monitor at the front of the room and a huge armchair with manacles facing it. Sheridan stood nearby, looking serene as ever … and she was brandishing a needle.
It wasn’t a tattooist’s needle either. It was a big, wicked-looking thing, the kind you used for medical injections. “Sydney,” she said sweetly, as the men strapped me down in the chair. “What a shame I have to see you again so soon.”
CHAPTER 4 Adrian
I HAD SO MANY QUESTIONS for my mom that it was hard to know where to begin. Probably the most important one was what she was even doing here, since last I’d known she was serving time in a Moroi prison for perjury and interfering with a murder investigation.
“We’ll have plenty of time to talk later,” she insisted. “Right now we have a flight to catch. Human boy, can you find us a suitcase?”
“His name is Trey,” I said. “And he’s my roommate, not my valet.” I staggered to my closet and pulled out the suitcase I’d brought when I first came to Palm Springs. My mom took it from me and began packing up my room’s belongings as though I were eight again.
“You’re leaving?” asked Trey, looking as dumbfounded as I felt.
“I guess I am.” I thought about it a little more, and suddenly, it seemed like a great idea. Why was I still here, torturing myself in a desert? Sydney was gone. Jill was making rapid strides in learning to block me through the bond, thanks to my extreme behavior recently. Besides, she’d be leaving here in another month as well. “Yes,” I said more confidently. “I’m definitely leaving. It’s prepaid through fall. You can stay on.”
I needed to be away from this place and its memories of Sydney. She was everywhere I looked, not just in this apartment but also at Amberwood and even Palm Springs at large. Every place brought up some image of her, and although I hadn’t given up on finding her, I’d continue doing so in a place that didn’t cause me so much pain. Maybe this was the fresh start I needed.
That … and my mom was back! I’d missed her deeply, in a different way from Sydney, and had almost as little contact. My mother hadn’t wanted me to reach her in dreams, and my father wouldn’t deliver any letters. I’d worried about how Daniella Ivashkov had survived in a prison, but watching her now, she seemed no worse for it. She seemed as elegant as ever, well-dressed and well-made-up, moving around my room with that single-minded authority and confidence that defined her—and had played a role in her arrest.