Adrian shrugged. “We only know about the connection to Jill and Alicia now, after going through all those hoops. At the time, it didn’t seem certain, and we honestly didn’t know if you’d let us go. We felt the most important thing was to get Sydney out of Court to go after the lead. Me joining her was an afterthought.”
Surprisingly, Lissa nodded and conceded the point. “You’re right. I probably would’ve wanted more proof if all you’d had was the box with Jill’s picture. And no one I sent would’ve learned what you uncovered, Sydney.”
It wasn’t exactly an apology, but Adrian still took it as such. “Thank you,” he said.
“You still should’ve told me afterward,” she warned.
“Or me,” piped in Rose.
“Now that you’re done scolding me,” Adrian said, “will someone please tell me more about Nina?”
“They can catch you up,” said Lissa, gesturing to those beside her. “I need to go make sure your secret escape from Court stays a secret. Unless you guys plan on coming back and letting Eddie and your human friend handle things? It’s not too late to return to the way things were.”
Adrian and I exchanged glances briefly before turning back to Lissa. We both shook our heads.
“I didn’t think so,” Lissa said, with a small, rueful laugh. “Let me go see what I can do to keep this quiet. In the meantime, please, don’t you guys do anything that’ll get yourselves caught.”
She left the screen, and a moment later, Sonya moved in beside Rose. “There’s not much more to tell than what I already did. Maybe you could help by telling me what happened.”
“It was from spirit use,” Adrian said, casting me an apologetic glance. “I joined her in a dream and helped her blast down the barriers Olive had put up.”
“I suspected as much,” said Sonya grimly.
“Do you know when Nina will wake up?” Adrian demanded. “Will she be okay?”
“It depends on how you define ‘okay,’” Sonya replied. “The doctor thinks her difficulties with waking up are due to exhaustion. She’ll hopefully come around with a little more rest. But as for what state she’ll be in . . .”
“If she’s so worn out, that would explain why she’s not making any sense,” Adrian said quickly. I could tell he very, very badly wanted to believe that. “Hell, you should see me after pulling an all-nighter. I make her sound totally articulate and lucid.”
Sonya didn’t laugh at the joke. “It’s possible . . . but I don’t think it’s that simple. I’ve seen her aura. That tells its own tale, and it’s not a good one. Plus, I’ve spent a lot of time with Avery Lazar, Adrian. I’ve seen what spirit did to her—and this has a very similar feel.”
“So what are you saying?” I asked, surprised at the lump in my throat. I didn’t even know Nina that well, but there was something chilling in listening to this grim prognosis—maybe because I feared one day, we’d be talking about Adrian.
Sonya suddenly looked tired, as though she were the one who’d expended so much power and energy and needed to sleep. “I’m saying, when Nina comes around, she may not be the same Nina we knew. What happened? I thought you were going to keep her from using excessive spirit?”
“I tried. I really did.” Adrian leaned against me, and I rested my arm on his back. “I led the dream. I did most of the work when Olive took control—but Nina got impatient and took over. She blew through everything before I could stop her.”
Sonya nodded wearily. “Were you able to talk to Olive at least?”
“Not really,” he said carefully. I kept my own face schooled to neutrality, lest I give away that he wasn’t telling the whole truth. He held up the piece of paper he’d sketched on for me. “Does this mean anything to you?”
“No, I’m sorry.” Sonya looked down and grimaced. “I’m getting a text from the doctor monitoring Nina. They have some more questions for me. I’ll be in touch if I learn more.”
Adrian gave a weak nod, and I clutched his hand. I knew he felt terrible, like he was personally responsible for Nina’s state. With Sonya gone from the call too, that left Rose, looking dismayed at the news.
“Well, I’m glad we got a lead on Jill,” she said. “But you guys really should have been more careful about—”
“What was that you showed Sonya?”
Dimitri suddenly joined Rose on the screen. She shot him an amused look. “Easy, comrade. You’ll get your chance to lecture them too.”
“Geez,” said Adrian. “How many other people are there lurking off-screen?”
“What was that you showed her?” Dimitri reiterated, his face hard as he peered at us. Even through a computer screen, he was intimidating.
Adrian held up the piece of paper again. “This?” He leaned forward eagerly. “Do you know what it is?”
“Yes, it’s—” Dimitri bit off his words and glanced at Rose, then back at the drawing. “It’s a kind of marker worn by women in, uh, dhampir communes.”
Rose had no problem stating what his delicate sensibilities had held back from. “A blood whore camp?” Her eyes widened, and suddenly, she turned as angry as Lissa had been earlier. “Adrian Ivashkov! You should be ashamed of yourself, going to a place like that, especially now that you’re married—”
Adrian scoffed. “Both of you, calm down. I’ve never set foot in one of those places, nor do I really want to.” He looked back at Dimitri. “What do you mean, it’s a marker?”
I could tell from Dimitri’s face that it wasn’t a topic he liked discussing, and frankly, I didn’t blame him. Moroi society hadn’t always treated dhampir women well. They could only have children with Moroi fathers, fathers who often viewed those women as little more than playthings. The standard practice for dhampir women who had children was to turn those children over early to one of the schools, like St. Vladimir’s, while the mother returned to guardian services. A lot of dhampir women didn’t like doing that, however. They wanted to raise their own children. Some would go off and blend into human society, but that was discouraged. Even if dhampirs looked identical to humans, dhampirs often demonstrated extraordinary physical abilities that called too much attention to them. Without other options, these dhampir women often banded together in “communes,” some more civilized than others. Some dhampir women found perfectly ordinary ways to survive . . . others turned to more desperate paths, which Dimitri confirmed.
“Members of these communes wear markers that show what their role is,” he explained. “Some are residents, some are guests. Some are women making themselves available to interested men—selling their bodies.”
“Disgusting,” said Rose.
I glanced at Adrian’s drawing, and a horrible, terrible thought occurred to me about Olive. Had she become that desperate? “Do you know what kind this is?” I asked.
Dimitri shook his head. “Not without color. These marks identify which commune it is. There’s usually a color on it to signify the person’s status.”
“It was green,” said Adrian.
“Green marks a guest,” Dimitri said. Both Adrian and I exhaled in relief. “Someone living there temporarily. Maybe visiting a relative. Maybe seeking sanctuary.”
“So not someone selling herself?” I clarified. I couldn’t stand the thought of poor Olive doing that.
“No,” said Dimitri, looking puzzled. Rose did as well.
“What’s this all about?” she asked.
Adrian didn’t answer right away. Instead, he held up the paper again for them to see. “Do you know which commune this belongs to? Where it’s at?”
Dimitri studied the drawing a moment before shaking his head. “No . . . but I could probably find out. Why?”
Adrian hesitated again. “Is Lissa still there somewhere? Or is anyone else lurking?”
“No,” said Rose. “It’s just us. Why?”
Adrian glanced at me
, and just like that, I knew what he was thinking. “We’re supposed to be lying low,” I reminded him. “Staying out of trouble.”
“Olive could be in a lot of trouble. And if she won’t talk in a dream, maybe going to her in person is the only option we have,” Adrian said. “That and, I mean, come on. If we can’t help Jackie, we might as well help someone else . . .”
Once again, I was torn. My logic said to stay here and stay safe. But my heart—especially when it feared Olive might have been raped like Carly—wanted to go off and help. “There’s no telling what we could be walking into,” I said. “From what I’ve heard, some of those dhampir communes are like the Wild West.”
Adrian grinned at that. “Good thing we’ve got our own cowboy.”
“Um, hello,” said Rose from the screen, her face lined with irritation at being left out of the conversation. “Do you guys want to fill us in on what you’re talking about?”
Adrian looked up, glancing between her and Dimitri. “How would you two like to take a trip with us?”
CHAPTER 9
ADRIAN
“SO THIS IS CANADA,” I SAID, looking outside my car door.
“For the last time, it’s not Canada,” Sydney replied, rolling her eyes. “It’s northern Michigan.”
I glanced around, seeing nothing but enormous trees in every direction. Despite it being a late August afternoon, the temperature could’ve easily passed for something in autumn. Craning my head, I just barely caught a glimpse of gray waters beyond the trees to my right: Lake Superior, according to the map I’d seen.
“Maybe it’s not Canada,” I conceded. “But it’s exactly how I always imagined Canada would look. Except I thought there’d be more hockey.”
Sydney gave me an indulgent smile as she slid out of the backseat and stood beside me. “It’s a lot different from Iowa.”
“That’s for sure,” I agreed, slipping my arm around her as we admired the scenery.
It was crazy to think how far we’d come in less than twenty-four hours. After convincing Rose and Dimitri to go with us to the dhampir commune, we’d had to wait for Dimitri to use his resources and confirm where Olive’s medallion was linked to. He’d gotten back to us fairly quickly, revealing that the symbol on the necklace was used by a commune in Michigan’s upper peninsula. He and Rose had then begun a series of convoluted flights to get there from Court. Sydney and I had chosen the more direct route, hopping back in the car and driving twelve hours. It had been exhausting, given how little sleep we’d gotten, but we’d traded off driving and napping. It had also given us little opportunity to discuss the larger issues that still loomed over us. I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.
“Come on,” said Rose, hopping out of the SUV’s passenger seat. “It looks like the entrance is that way.” We’d rendezvoused with her and Dimitri in Houghton and then taken their more rugged rental vehicle out here to the packed-earth parking lot we now found ourselves in. Several other cars with Michigan plates were parked beside our rental, most of them the kind of heavy-duty models needed for life out in the wilderness. Admittedly, we were only an hour from Houghton, but it was hardly what you’d call a major metropolitan area. It had the basics—grocery stores, a hospital, Starbucks, even a university—but that was about it. Once you left the city limits, you were almost immediately out in the woods again. That was all I could see right now, and it took me a moment to spot the opening to the trailhead that Rose indicated.
“Narrow,” I remarked as Sydney and I followed her and Dimitri over to it. The trail itself was clear, but around it, the thick forest was difficult to pass through.
“By design,” he said, setting off like he did this sort of hike all the time. Probably it was how he’d gotten to school every day in Siberia. “Makes it harder for Strigoi to come through.”
“I bet it’s a real bitch to get through in the winter,” I added. I swore as a low branch snagged my coat.
Careful, warned Aunt Tatiana. That’s Italian leather.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of them left for the winter,” Dimitri remarked. “This is an ideal summer location—somewhat high latitude. In peak summer, there’s probably only five hours without daylight. If you’ve got that and some solid wards, you can hold out relatively well against attacks—especially when it’s a group of dhampirs we’re talking about. They put up a good fight.”
I could believe that and stayed silent as I focused on paying attention to my footing and not eating any gnats. My muscles were stiff from so much time in the car, and the movement actually felt good. When Dimitri had said the medallion symbol was linked to a place called Wild Pine Intentional Community, I’d had no idea what we’d be getting into. Apparently, “intentional community” was the modern name for a commune, and they were something that humans still formed nowadays too. I’d also learned—thanks to Sydney’s endless knowledge on the drive here—that a lot of communes weren’t just hippie love fests à la the 1960s. Some were very modern but embraced green ways of living. Some were little more than campgrounds. Dimitri had told us in Houghton that this particular dhampir community likely fell somewhere in the middle. I was crossing my fingers for something on the more modern side, maybe like a secret wooded resort. Images of the Ewok village from Return of the Jedi came to mind.
“I just hope they have plumbing,” Rose said. “That was the rough part about staying with the Keepers.”
“I was actually okay with that,” Sydney said unexpectedly. “It was the questionable meat I had a problem with.”
“Whoa, no plumbing?” I exclaimed. My brain had trouble wrapping itself around how you’d even function in such a scenario.
“Better get used to the idea,” Rose teased, glancing back at me. “Liss may not let you guys come back. When this is all over, you two may end up living with the Keepers.”
“I’m sure we can find some alternative before resorting to that,” I said loftily, not wanting to admit how uncertain I was about our future.
Dimitri didn’t share Rose’s amusement. “If the Alchemists are still after her, I’m sure Lissa will let you return to your suite.”
Won’t that be fun, noted Aunt Tatiana. More close quarters with your mother, none of you ever wanting to go out and face the other Moroi.
“That’s no kind of life,” I murmured, thinking of how trapped both Sydney and I had felt. I hadn’t fully realized it until we’d left and had some breathing room. Even when we were fighting, the vibe between us was more electric when we had our freedom. Meeting Sydney’s eyes, I knew she was thinking the same thing and was full of the same questions I had about what our future held. Unfortunately, we weren’t likely to get any answers right away. We could only focus on the immediate concerns. Jill. Olive.
Dimitri came to a halt and pointed off toward the woods. “Look. The beginning of the wards.”
I followed his motion and caught a glimpse of silver in the underbrush. A charmed silver stake. The dhampirs in this commune would have them placed strategically around their settlement, creating a magical barrier to keep Strigoi out. The undead couldn’t cross that kind of power, but it required constant maintenance. If the bonds weakened or someone moved a stake out of place, Strigoi would be able to come through. It was a concern all Moroi and dhampir communities had. The wards at Court were checked several times a day.
We had just passed the stake when a figure suddenly stepped out of the woods and onto the path in front of Dimitri, who struck a defensive stance at the sight of the newcomer and then relaxed when he saw it was a dhampir. She too wore a tough, ready-for-anything expression, along with both a gun and a silver stake at her belt. A medallion around her neck was an exact copy of Olive’s—save that it was edged in blue, not green. The woman’s face softened a little as she took in Rose and Dimitri, then hardened again at the sight of me.
“Greetings,” she said. “You’re l
ooking for Wild Pine?”
Rose squeezed up beside Dimitri, which wasn’t easy on the narrow path. “We’re looking for a friend of ours,” she said. “We think she’s staying with you.”
After assessing Rose and Dimitri, the dhampir woman nodded congenially at Sydney and then turned downright hostile when she looked me over. “And him? What’s he looking for?”
“The girl we’re looking for is my friend too,” I said, surprised at her reaction. “I told her sister I’d find her.”
Our hostess looked skeptical, and I wondered what was up with that. I’d think it was dhampir solidarity, except that she’d seemed fine with Sydney. Probably the woman had seen Sydney’s lily tattoo and assumed she was doing some routine Alchemist visit. That still didn’t explain my cold welcome. “What’s your friend’s name?” the woman asked.
“Olive Sinclair,” I replied.
Immediately, a look of distaste filled the woman’s eyes, but it was clearly in regard to me, not Olive. “So you’re the one who got her in trouble.”
“The one who . . .” The meaning became clear, and I found myself blushing—something I’d maybe done twice in my life. “What? No! Of course not. I mean, if I did, I’d never—that is—I’m not the kind of guy who—”
“No,” said Dimitri bluntly. “Adrian’s not responsible. His intentions are honorable here. I’ll vouch for him. I’m Dimitri Belikov. This is Rose Hathaway, Sydney Ivashkov.”
Normally, a human introduced with a royal Moroi last name would have warranted a double take. But it was clear this woman never heard anything past Rose and Dimitri’s names. I saw it clearly in her eyes: the same awe and worship I’d observed in so many other faces whenever this dynamic duo introduced itself. And like that, the woman turned from fiercely protective doorkeeper to swooning fangirl.
“Omigod,” she gushed. “I thought you looked familiar! I’ve seen your pictures! I should’ve known right away! I’m so embarrassed. Come on, come on. I’m Mallory, by the way. Let’s not stand around in the woods! You must have done a lot of traveling to get here. Come rest. Get something to eat. Omigod.”