A lot of their work involved slow, painstaking experiments-many involving Eddie Castile, a dhampir who was also undercover at Amberwood. He was serving as the control subject since, unlike Dimitri, Eddie was a dhampir untouched by spirit or a Strigoi history. There wasn’t much I could do to help Adrian with his frustration over his research group-and he knew it. He just liked playing up the drama and venting to me. Mindful of what was essential and nonessential in the Alchemist world, I was on the verge of deleting the message, but…
One thing made me hesitate. Adrian had signed his e-mail with a reference to Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables. It was a book about the French Revolution that was so thick, it could easily double as a weapon. I had read it in both French and English. Considering Adrian had once gotten bored while reading a particularly long menu, I had a hard time imagining he’d read the Hugo book in any language. So how did he know the reference? It doesn’t matter, Sydney, a stern Alchemist voice said inside my head. Delete it. It’s irrelevant. Adrian’s literary knowledge (or lack thereof) is no concern of yours.
But I couldn’t do it. I had to know. This was the kind of detail that would drive me crazy. I wrote back with a quick message: How do you know about 24601? I refuse to believe you read the book. You saw the musical, right?
I hit send and received a response back from him almost immediately: SparkNotes.
Typical. I laughed out loud and immediately felt guilty. I shouldn’t have responded. This was my personal e-mail account, but if the Alchemists ever felt the need to investigate me, they’d have no qualms about accessing it. This kind of thing was damning, and I deleted the e-mail exchange-not that it mattered. No data was ever truly lost.
By the time I landed in Palm Springs at seven the next morning, it was painfully obvious that I had surpassed my body’s limits to subsist on caffeine. I was too exhausted. No amount of coffee would help anymore. I nearly fell asleep at the airport’s curb, waiting for my ride. When it arrived, I didn’t notice until I heard my name called.
Dimitri Belikov jumped out of a blue rental car and strode toward me, grabbing hold of my suitcase before I could utter a word. A few nearby women stopped talking to stare at him admiringly. I got to my feet. “You don’t have to do that,” I said, even though he was already loading my suitcase into the trunk.
“Of course I do,” he said, his words lightly touched with a Russian accent. He gave me a small smile. “You looked like you were asleep.”
“I should be so lucky,” I said, getting into the passenger side. Even if I’d been wide awake, I knew Dimitri would’ve taken my suitcase anyway. That’s how he was, a lost remnant of chivalry in the modern world, ever-ready to help others.
That was only one of the many striking things about Dimitri. His looks alone were certainly enough to make many halt in their tracks. He had dark brown hair pulled back into a short ponytail, with matching brown eyes that seemed mysterious and alluring. He was tall, too-about 6′7″-rivaling some Moroi. Dhampirs were indistinguishable from humans to me, so even I could admit that he scored pretty high on the attractiveness scale.
There was also an energy around him that you couldn’t help but be affected by. He was always on alert, always ready for the unexpected. I’d never seen his guard down. He was constantly ready to strike. He was dangerous, no question, and I was comforted that he was on our side. I always felt safe around him-and a little wary.
“Thanks for the ride,” I added. “I could’ve called a taxi.” Even as I spoke, I knew my words were as useless as when I’d told him he didn’t need to help me with my bag.
“It’s no problem,” he assured me, driving toward suburban Palm Springs. He wiped sweat off his brow and somehow made that look attractive. Even this early in the morning, the heat was beginning to build. “Sonya insisted. Besides, no experiments today.”
I frowned at that. Those experiments and the amazing potential they represented to prevent the creation of more Strigoi were vastly important. Dimitri and Sonya knew that and were dedicated to the cause-especially on weekends, when Adrian and Eddie didn’t have classes-which made this news so puzzling. My own work ethic had a hard time understanding why there’d be no research happening on a Sunday.
“Adrian?” I guessed. Maybe he wasn’t “in the mood” for research today.
“Partially,” said Dimitri. “We’re also missing our control subject. Eddie said he had some conflict and couldn’t make it.”
My frown deepened. “What conflict could Eddie have?”
Eddie was intensely dedicated too. Adrian sometimes called him mini-Dimitri. Although Eddie was going to high school and completing assignments just like me, I knew he’d drop any homework in an instant to help out with the greater good. I could think of only one thing that would take precedence over helping find a “cure” for being Strigoi. My heart suddenly raced.
“Is Jill okay?” She had to be. Someone would have told me, right? Eddie’s main purpose in Palm Springs-and mine-was to keep her safe. If she was in danger, it would trump everything else.
“She’s fine,” said Dimitri. “I talked to her this morning. I’m not sure what’s going on, but Eddie wouldn’t be away without good reason.”
“I suppose not,” I murmured, still concerned.
“You worry as much as me,” teased Dimitri. “I didn’t think that was possible.”
“It’s my job to worry. I always have to make sure everyone’s okay.”
“Sometimes it’s not a bad thing to make sure you’re okay too. You might find it actually helps others.”
I scoffed. “Rose always joked about your ‘Zen Master Wisdom.’ Am I getting a taste of it? If so, I can see why she was helpless against your charms.”
This earned me one of Dimitri’s rare, genuine laughs. “I think so. If you ask her, she’ll claim it was the staking and decapitation. But I’m sure it was the Zen wisdom that won her in the end.”
My answering smile immediately melted into a yawn. It was amazing that I could joke with a dhampir. I used to have panic attacks being in the same room with them or Moroi. Slowly, over the last six months, my anxiety had begun to ease up. I’d never shake the feeling of “otherness” I got from all of them, but I’d come a long way. Part of me knew it was a good thing that I still drew that line between them and humans, but it was also good to be flexible in order to make my job smoother. Not too flexible, that inner Alchemist voice warned.
“Here we are,” said Dimitri, pulling up in front of my dorm at Amberwood Prep. If he’d noticed my shift in mood, he didn’t say so. “You should get some rest.”
“I’ll try,” I said. “But I need to find out what’s going on with Eddie first.”
Dimitri’s face turned all-business. “If you can find him, you should bring him over tonight, and we can see about getting a little work done. Sonya would love it. She has some new ideas.”
I nodded, reminding myself that that was the kind of standard we needed to adhere to. Work, work, work. We had to remember our higher goals. “I’ll see what I can do.”
I thanked him again and then headed inside, filled with resolve to carry out my mission. So, it was a bit disappointing when my lofty goals were shattered so quickly.
“Miss Melrose?”
I turned immediately at the sound of the last name I’d assumed here at Amberwood. Mrs. Weathers, our plump, elderly dorm matron, was hurrying over to me. Her face was lined with worry, which couldn’t bode well.