“You’re still drunk, man.” I managed the painful smile but couldn’t laugh this time.
“It’d be easy,” he hissed. “Tell her you’re going to take her on some cultural experience. I can score something for her, and we can each get a turn. God, I’d love to see her face when—”
“No,” I said.
Lars scowled. “You’ve gone soft, Ivashkov. You never minded dabbling before.”
But Sydney had reached us by then, and the three of them at least had the sense to shut up. “It’s getting late,” I said. “You better get your food and rest up for later.”
They took the hint and wandered off laughing and whispering toward the counter, but not before telling me to get in touch if I changed my mind. I took a deep breath to steady myself and be interested in my French toast so that Sydney wouldn’t pick up on my mood.
“Sorry,” I said. “Friends from another time.”
“What’s dabbling?” she asked.
I winced. So. She’d heard that last part. She obviously hadn’t heard the rest, or she wouldn’t be nearly so calm. I had to choose my next words very carefully. If I gave her a total lie, there could be trouble if she ever found out the truth. And yet, I couldn’t answer with full honesty either, so I opted for something that skirted the truth.
“It’s stupid.” I rolled my eyes and munched on my side of bacon to buy me more time. “Jerks like that think it’s hilarious to try to recruit new humans as feeders. They take a human out and talk a bunch of crap to try to win them over.”
She actually dropped her fork. “Are you serious?” She glanced over her shoulder and studied them in disbelief. “They . . . they wanted to talk me into being a feeder?” She was so shocked at the idea of her being a feeder that she didn’t even think about the implications of them openly discussing vampires with outsiders. Feeders were usually recruited from the fringes of human society, often from those who were already addicted to something and had little promise in their lives. Living with the Moroi was an upgrade. Normal, active members of human society were never approached.
“It’s okay,” I assured her. “I blew them off. They’re not going to try anything. They think you’re pretty—which is true—but they’re just a bunch of talk. They won’t even remember it when they sober up.”
Sydney still looked worried and tore her muffin into pieces without eating or speaking.
“I’m serious,” I said, wishing I could touch her hand. “They’re assholes. They’re nobodies. I’d never let them do anything like that.”
She eventually nodded and then gave me a smile of such warmth and trust that I wanted to die for my lie. “I know,” she said.
I swallowed and tried not to pay attention to where Wesley and his friends sat, still casting covert looks back at us. “Let’s hurry up and do some sightseeing. Best time to do it, with everyone in bed. Maybe, maybe, we should look for another coat for me.”
As I hoped, the satisfaction of being right perked her up. “I knew it! I knew you had to be freezing.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re a genius, Sage. We’ll get the coat, bum around, and then maybe visit bed like everyone else for a while.”
Before long, those drunken idiots were a distant memory. We sneaked into my parents’ town house and found an old winter coat of mine. My dad was there, sound asleep, and never knew we came by. After that, I did my best to point out all the old architecture I thought she’d be into. I didn’t know any of the technicalities, but as I’d hoped, she did, and she loved it. We wrapped up back in her room afterward, cuddling in bed until our appointed meeting time. It was an amazing day.
Back at the palace, Lissa had arranged for a vast breakfast buffet for all of us. It was dinnertime for Sydney and me, but we didn’t mind the repeat, and she certainly didn’t mind the ready supply of decaf coffee. People chatted in clusters throughout the room as we ate, and Nina beckoned me over from the opposite side, where she stood with Neil and Olive. I smiled and mouthed “maybe later” to her.
Rose strolled over to us, carrying a plate with five donuts on it. Dhampir metabolism was nuts, and I could almost understand Sydney’s weird body hang-ups when she spent time around people who could eat so much and still keep decent figures.
“Did you have a good day?” Rose asked. “I assume you weren’t sleeping it away like the rest of us.”
Sydney laughed. “No. Neither was Adrian. He’s been converted to our Palm Springs schedule, so he took me around and showed me all the wonders of the Moroi Court.”
Rose shot me a pleased and proud look, like she could barely believe I’d do anything so thoughtful. “Well, good. Hopefully it’s another step in convincing you we aren’t all bloodthirsty minions of hell.”
Sydney started to laugh again and then grew pensive. “Well . . . not all of you.”
“What do you mean?” Rose asked, her words muffled in a chocolate donut.
“It’s nothing,” said Sydney. “Just some drunk guys we met who wanted to . . . what’d you say it was, Adrian? Dabbling?”
Rose nearly choked on her donut. “They did what?”
“They didn’t do anything,” I said carefully. An uneasy feeling spread over me, and I prayed we’d either abruptly change topic or that Lissa would start this operation.
“Who the hell would even suggest that?” I recognized that look on Rose’s face, the one that said her fist had an appointment with someone. “Tell me who they are.”
Sydney seemed touched by the concern. “It’s nothing, and Adrian’s right. They didn’t do anything. He scared them off. Besides, it’s not like they could’ve talked me into doing it.”
I was feeling ill. I glanced around the room. “Hey, where’s Honest Abe? Wasn’t he supposed to get Sydney’s goods?”
Rose didn’t even hear me. Her gaze was fixed firmly on Sydney. “Do you know what dabbling is?”
“Yeah,” said Sydney uncertainly. “It’s when they try to convince you to be a feeder.”
“I wouldn’t say ‘convince’ is the right word,” growled Rose. “It’s when Moroi go out and drug a random human so that they can drink from him or her. Usually her, since it’s usually guys behind it. The human’s kind of out of it from the drug and doesn’t remember anything later, just that they somehow ended up with bruises on their neck. It’s essentially date rape for blood drinking.”
Sydney looked so pale, she could’ve been one of the Moroi. “What . . .”
Rose seemed to realize just how traumatizing that might be to an Alchemist and tried to backpedal. “It doesn’t happen very often,” she said quickly. “And it’d never happen here—especially if you’ve got Adrian as your noble defender. And me.”
Sydney couldn’t formulate a response.
Someone called for Rose, and she bit her lip, glancing worriedly between Sydney and me. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Don’t freak out. There’s nothing to worry about.” She gently touched Sydney’s arm. Sydney flinched and pulled back. Rose heard her name again and glanced up at me. “Talk to her. I’ll be back.”
She scurried away, and I took a step closer to Sydney, who thankfully didn’t jerk away. “She’s right, it’s—”
Sydney’s eyes sharpened. “Why did you lie to me?”
I pointed at her. “Exactly because of this. I didn’t want to scare you.”
“You shouldn’t have sugarcoated it,” she said. “I’m tough enough to handle it.”
“I know you are,” I said softly. “I’m just not tough enough to tell you ugly things. I figured the point was the same: It’s a bunch of bastards taking advantage of someone.”
She nodded, and I held my breath, hoping we were done with this. Then, that cursed memory of hers came into play. “One of them said you used to not mind. Did you go along with it?” Her breath suddenly caught. “Did you ever do it?”