Mikhail shifted uncomfortably, peering around like a frightened animal. "That's why I came to find you."
"Okay, I'm really not following any of this." I was also starting to get a headache from the wine.
Mikhail took a deep breath and exhaled. "I think I can sneak you in to see him."
I waited for a moment, wondering if there was a punch line coming or if maybe this was all some delusion born out of my wound-up emotions. Nope. Mikhail's face was deadly serious, and while I still didn't know him that well, I'd picked up enough to realize he didn't really joke around.
"How?" I asked. "I tried and–"
Mikhail beckoned for me to follow. "Come on, and I'll explain. We don't have much time."
I wasn't about to waste this chance and hurried after him. "Has something happened?" I asked, once I'd caught up to his longer stride. "Did . . . did he ask for me?" It was more than I dared to hope for. Mikhail's use of the word sneak didn't really support that idea anyway.
"They've lightened his guard," Mikhail explained.
"Really? How many?" There had been about a dozen down there when Lissa visited, including her escort. If they'd come to their senses and realized they only needed a guy or two on Dimitri, then that boded well for everyone accepting that he was no longer Strigoi.
"He's down to about five."
"Oh." Not great. Not horrible. "But I guess even that means they're a little closer to believing he's safe now?"
Mikhail shrugged, keeping his eyes on the path ahead of us. It had rained during the Death Watch, and the air, while still humid, had cooled a little. "Some of the guardians do. But it'll take a royal decree from the Council to officially declare what he is."
I almost came to a halt. "Declare what he is?" I exclaimed. "He's not a what! He's a person. A dhampir like us."
"I know, but it's out of our hands."
"You're right. Sorry," I grumbled. No point in shooting the messenger. "Well, I hope they get off their asses and come to a decision soon."
The silence that followed spoke legions. I gave Mikhail a sharp glare.
"What? What aren't you telling me?" I demanded.
He shrugged. "The rumor is that there's some other big thing being debated in the Council right now, something that takes priority."
That enraged me too. What in the world could take priority over Dimitri? Calm, Rose. Stay calm. Focus. Don't let the darkness make this worse. I always fought to keep it buried, but it often exploded in times of stress. And this? Yeah, this was a pretty stressful time. I shifted back to the original topic.
We reached the holding building, and I took the steps up two at a time. "Even if they've lightened the guardians on Dimitri, they still won't let me in. The ones that are there would know I was ordered to keep away."
"A friend of mine's covering the front shift right now. We won't have long, but he'll tell the guardians in the holding area that you were authorized to come down."
Mikhail was about to open the door, and I stopped him, putting my hand on his arm. "Why are you doing this for me? The Moroi Council might not think Dimitri's a big deal, but the guardians do. You could get in big trouble."
He looked down at me, again with that small, bitter smile. "Do you have to ask?"
I thought about it. "No," I said softly.
"When I lost Sonya . . ." Mikhail closed his eyes for a heartbeat, and when he opened them, they seemed to be staring off into the past. "When I lost her, I didn't want to go on living. She was a good person–really. She turned Strigoi out of desperation. She saw no other way to save herself from spirit. I would give anything–anything–for a chance to help her, to fix things between us. I don't know if that'll ever be possible for us, but it is possible for you right now. I can't let you lose this."
With that, he let us in, and sure enough, there was a different guardian on duty. Just as Mikhail had said, the guy called down to tell the jail guardians Dimitri had a visitor. Mikhail's friend seemed incredibly nervous about it all, which was understandable. Still, he was willing to help. It was amazing, I thought, what friends would do for each other. These last couple of weeks were undeniable proof of that.
Just like at Lissa's visit, two guardians showed up to escort me downstairs. I recognized them from when I'd been in her head, and they seemed surprised to see me. If they'd overheard Dimitri adamantly saying he didn't want me to visit, then my presence would indeed be shocking. But as far as they knew, someone in power had condoned me being here, so they asked no questions.
Mikhail trailed us as we wound our way down, and I felt my heartbeat and breathing grow rapid. Dimitri. I was about to see Dimitri. What would I say? What would I do? It was almost too much to comprehend. I had to keep mentally slapping myself to focus, or else I was going to slide into dumbstruck shock.
When we reached the hallway that held the cells, I saw two guardians standing in front of Dimitri's cell, one at the far end, and two others by the entrance we'd come through. I stopped, uneasy about the thought of others overhearing me talk to Dimitri. I didn't want an audience like Lissa had had, but with the emphasis on security here, I might not have a choice.
"Can I get a little privacy?" I asked.
One of my escorts shook his head. "Official orders. Two guardians have to be posted at the cell at all times."
"She's a guardian," pointed out Mikhail mildly. "So am I. Let us go. The rest can wait by the door."
I flashed Mikhail a grateful look. I could handle having him nearby. The others, deciding we would be safe enough, moved discreetly to the ends of the hall. It wasn't total and complete privacy, but they wouldn't hear everything.
My heart felt ready to burst from my chest as Mikhail and I walked over to Dimitri's cell and faced it. He was seated almost as he had been when Lissa arrived: on the bed, curled up into himself, back facing us.
Words stuck in my throat. Coherent thought fled from my mind. It was like I'd totally forgotten the reason I'd come here.
"Dimitri," I said. At least, that's what I tried to say. I choked up a little, so the sounds that came out of my mouth were garbled. It was apparently enough, though, because Dimitri's back suddenly went rigid. He didn't turn around.
"Dimitri," I repeated, more clearly this time. "It's . . . me."
There was no need for me to say any more. He'd known from that first attempt at his name who I was. I had a feeling he would have known my voice in any situation. He probably knew the sound of my heartbeat and breathing. As it was, I think I stopped breathing while I waited for his response. When it came, it was a little disappointing.
"No."
"No what?" I asked. "As in, no, it's not me?"
He exhaled in frustration, a sound almost–but not quite–like the one he used to make when I did something particularly ridiculous in our trainings. "No, as in I don't want to see you." His voice was thick with emotion. "They weren't supposed to let you in."
"Yeah. Well, I kind of found a work-around."
"Of course you did."
He still wouldn't face me, which was agonizing. I glanced over at Mikhail, who gave me a nod of encouragement. I guessed I should be glad that Dimitri was talking to me at all.
"I had to see you. I had to know if you were okay."
"I'm sure Lissa's already updated you."
"I had to see for myself."
"Well, now you see."
"All I see is your back."
It was maddening, yet every word I got out of him was a gift. It felt like a thousand years since I'd heard his voice. Like before, I wondered how I could have ever confused the Dimitri in Siberia with this one. His voice had been identical in both places, the same pitch and accent, yet as a Strigoi, his words had always left a chill in the air. This was warm. Honey and velvet and all sorts of wonderful things wrapping around me, no matter the terrible things he was saying.