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“Then humor me.”

Warily, I lay down on my side as well, facing him with only a few powerful inches between us. An enraptured, slightly distracted look appeared in his eyes. He’d given himself over to spirit. “Do you know what I see in you now? The usual aura. A steady golden yellow, healthy and strong, with spikes of purple here and there. But when I do this. . . .”

He rested a hand on my hip, and my whole body tensed up. That hand moved around my hip, slipping under my shirt to rest on the small of my back. My skin burned where he touched me, and the places that were untouched longed for that heat.

“See?” he said. He was in the throes of spirit now, though with me at the same time. “Well, I guess you can’t. But when I touch you, your aura . . . it smolders. The colors deepen, it burns more intensely, the purple increases. Why? Why, Sydney?” He used that hand on me to pull me closer. “Why do you react that way if I don’t mean anything to you?” There was a desperation in his voice, and it was legitimate.

It was hard for me to talk. “It’s instinct. Or something. You’re a Moroi. I’m an Alchemist. Of course I’d have a response. You think I’d be indifferent?”

“Most Alchemist responses would involve disgust, revulsion, and holy water.”

That was an excellent point. “Well . . . I’m a little more relaxed around Moroi than most Alchemists. Probably this is just some purely physical response driven by hormones and years of evolution. My body doesn’t know any better. I’m as susceptible to lust as anyone else.” There was probably a book about that or at least an article in Cosmopolitan.

The hint of a smile played over his lips. He was fully in tune with me again. “No, you aren’t. I mean, you are, but not without reason. I know you well enough to realize that now. You’re not the kind of person who’s ‘susceptible to lust’ without some emotion to back it.” He moved his hand back to my hip, sliding it down my leg. I shuddered, and his face moved closer to mine. There was so much in his eyes, so much desire and longing. “See? There it is again. My flame in the dark.”

“Don’t kiss me,” I whispered. It was the only defense I could muster. If he kissed me, I’d be lost. I closed my eyes. “You said you wouldn’t.”

“I won’t.” His lips were only a breath away. “Unless you want me to.”

I opened my eyes, ready to tell him no, that it didn’t matter what my aura allegedly said . . . this couldn’t keep happening. There was no emotion backing this desire, and I tried to cling to my earlier argument. I was so comfortable around Moroi now that clearly some primal part of me kept forgetting what he was. This was a base instinct. I was simply having a physical reaction to him, to his hands, to his lips, to his body. . . .

He caught hold of my arm and rolled me over. I closed my eyes again and wrapped my arms around his neck. I felt his lips touch mine, not quite a kiss, just the barest brush of—

The door opened, and I flinched. Alicia stepped inside, gasped, and put a hand up over her mouth to cover a shocked squeal. “O-oh,” she stammered. “I’m so sorry . . . I . . . I didn’t realize . . .”

Adrian and I jerked away and sat up. My heart was ready to beat out of my chest, and I knew I was blushing. I quickly patted my wig and was relieved to feel it was still in place. He recovered his voice more quickly.

“Sorry . . . we kind of got carried away. We started checking out the other rooms and decided to, uh, try them out.” Despite his sheepish words, there was a smug look on his face, the kind you’d expect from a guy who’d just made a conquest. Was it part of the act, or did he really think he’d gotten away with something?

Alicia looked as uncomfortable as I felt. “I see. Well, this room’s occupied. It’s—” She frowned and did a double take. “It’s Veronica’s. It looks like she left.”

I finally managed to speak. “That’s why we thought it was empty,” I said hastily. “There was nothing in here.”

Alicia thankfully seemed to have forgotten about our compromising position. “That’s weird. She didn’t formally check out. I mean, she paid in advance in cash, but still. It’s so strange.”

We made a hurried escape of our own after that, once again feeding Alicia lines about how we’d be in touch. Neither of us spoke much when we got in the car. I was lost in my own thoughts, which were equal parts frustration over Veronica and confusion over Adrian. I refused to acknowledge the latter, though, and opted for my usual tactic. The sooner that moment was forgotten, the better. I was pretty sure I could keep telling myself that. Some part of me—nearly as snarky as Adrian—suggested I pick up a book on denial the next time I was in the self-help section.

“Another dead end,” I said once we were on the road. I texted Ms. Terwilliger: V’s gone. No need for action. Her response came a few minutes later: We’ll keep trying. I could practically feel her disappointment through the display on my phone. She wasn’t the only one. Adrian seemed particularly melancholy on the drive back. He responded whenever I spoke, but it was clear he was distracted.

When he dropped me off at Amberwood later that night, I found everything mercifully quiet. No crises, no dangerous missions. It felt like it had been ages since I had a moment to myself, and I curled up on my bed, taking solace in the ordinary tasks of homework and reading. I fell asleep with my face on my calculus book.

I experienced one of those nonsensical dreams that everyone has. In it, my family’s cat could talk, and he was driving Adrian’s Mustang. He asked me if I wanted to take a road trip to Birmingham. I told him I had a lot of homework to do but that if he wanted to go to Fargo, I’d consider it.

We were in the middle of negotiating who’d pay for gas when the dream suddenly dissolved to blackness. A cold feeling swept over me, followed by a feeling of dread that rivaled the time Adrian and I had faced down Strigoi in his apartment. A woman’s laughter rolled around me, foul and sickening, like some sort of toxic smoke. A voice came out of the darkness, echoing in my mind.

She’s kept you well hidden, but it can’t stay that way forever. You can’t conceal power like yours forever. I’ve caught your trail. I’ll find you.

Hands suddenly reached out of the darkness for me, wrapping around my throat and cutting off my air. I screamed and woke up in my own bed, surrounded in books. I’d left the light on, and it chased some of the dream’s terror away. But only some. Sweat poured off me, making my shirt stick to me. I touched my neck, but there was nothing wrong with it. The garnet hung in place but not my cross.

No need to fear a dream, I thought. It didn’t mean anything, and really, with everything going on lately, it was a wonder I didn’t have nightmares more often. But thinking back on it, I wasn’t so sure. There had been something so terrible and real about it, a horror that seemed to reach into my very soul.

I didn’t want to sleep after that, so I made a cup of coffee and tried to read again. It worked for a while, but somewhere around four, my body couldn’t take it anymore. I fell asleep on my books again, but this time, my sleep stayed dream free.

CHAPTER 16

I GAVE MS. TERWILLIGER a full report on our trip to the inn the next morning. We met at Spencer’s, and in a rare show of early rising, Adrian joined us. “I’ve got a study group meeting soon,” he explained. His mood was a lot better, with no mention of yesterday’s . . . indiscretion.

Even though there wasn’t much to tell, lines of worry creased her face as she heard our story. The true panic came when I mentioned my dream. Ms. Terwilliger’s eyes went wide, and she gripped her coffee cup so tightly, I thought it would break.