Blood Promise (16 page)

“Then . . . then you’re a spirit user.”

That made her pause again. She and Mark exchanged startled looks. “That,” she said, “is
not
something that’s widely known.”

“Most people think you haven’t specialized, right?”

“How did you know?”

Because it was exactly how it had been for Lissa and me. Stories of bonds had always existed in Moroi folklore, but how bonds formed had always been a mystery. It was generally believed they “just happened.” Like Oksana, Lissa had generally been regarded as a non-specializing Moroi—one who didn’t have any special ability with one element. We realized now, of course, that bonding only occurred with spirit users, when they saved the lives of others.

Something in Oksana’s voice told me she wasn’t really all that surprised I knew. I couldn’t figure out how she’d realized that, however, and I was too stunned by my discovery to say anything else. Lissa and I had never, ever met another bonded pair. The only such two we knew about were the legendary Vladimir and Anna. And those stories were shrouded by centuries of incomplete history, making it difficult to know fact from fiction. The only other leads we had to the world of spirit were Ms. Karp—a former teacher who went insane—and Adrian. Until now, he had been our biggest discovery, a spirit user who was more or less stable—depending on how you looked at it.

When the meal was ready, spirit never came up. Oksana led the conversation, keeping to light topics and jumping between languages. I studied her and Mark as I ate, looking for any signs of instability. I saw none. They seemed like perfectly pleasant, perfectly ordinary people. If I hadn’t known what I did, I would have had no reason to suspect anything. Oksana didn’t seem depressed or unhinged. Mark hadn’t inherited that vile darkness that sometimes seeped into me.

My stomach welcomed the food, and the last of my headache faded away. At one point, though, a strange sensation swept through me. It was disorienting, like a fluttering in my head, and a wave of heat and then ice coursing through me. The feeling disappeared as quickly as it came on, and I hoped it’d be the last of that demon vodka’s ill effects.

We finished eating, and I jumped up to help. Oksana shook her head. “No, there’s no need. You should go with Mark.”

“Huh?” I asked.

He dabbed at his face with a napkin and then stood up. “Yes. Let’s go out to the garden.”

I started to follow, then paused to glance back at Yeva. I expected her to chastise me for abandoning the dishes. Instead, I found no smug or disapproving looks. Her expression was . . . knowing. Almost expectant. Something about it sent a shiver down my back, and I recalled Viktoria’s words: Yeva had dreamed of my arrival.

The garden Mark led me to was much bigger than I expected, enclosed in a thick fence and lined with trees. New leaves hung on them, blocking the worst of the heat. Lots of bushes and flowers were already in bloom, and here and there, young shoots were well on their way to adulthood. It was beautiful, and I wondered if Oksana had had a hand in it. Lissa was able to make plants grow with spirit. Mark gestured me over to a stone bench. We sat down side by side, and silence fell.

“So,” he said. “What would you like to know?”

“Wow. You don’t waste time.”

“I don’t see any point in it. You must have lots of questions. I’ll do my best to answer.”

“How did you know?” I asked. “That I’m shadow-kissed too. You did, right?”

He nodded. “Yeva told us.”

Okay,
that
was a surprise. “Yeva?”

“She can sense things . . . things the rest of us can’t. She doesn’t always know what she’s sensing, however. She only knew there was a strange feel to you, and she’d only ever felt that around one other person. So she brought you to me.”

“Seems like she could have done that without me having to carry a household’s worth of stuff.”

This made him laugh. “Don’t take it personally. She was testing you. She wanted to see if you’re a worthy match for her grandson.”

“What’s the point? He’s dead now.” I nearly choked on the words.

“True, but for her, it’s still important. And, by the way, she does think you’re worthy.”

“She has a funny way of showing it. I mean, aside from bringing me to meet you, I guess.”

He laughed again. “Even without her, Oksana would have known what you are as soon as she met you. Being shadow-kissed has an effect on the aura.”

“So she can see auras too,” I murmured. “What else can she do? She must be able to heal, or you wouldn’t be shadow-kissed. Does she have super-compulsion? Can she walk dreams?”

That caught him off guard. “Her compulsion is strong, yes . . . but what do you mean, walk dreams?”

“Like . . . she’d be able to enter someone else’s mind when they’re asleep. Anyone’s mind—not just yours. Then they could have conversations, just as if they were together. My friend can do it.”

Mark’s expression told me that was news to him. “Your friend? Your bondmate?”

Bondmate? I’d never heard that term. It was weird-sounding, but it made sense. “No . . . another spirit user.”

“Another? How many do you know?”

“Three, technically. Well, four now, counting Oksana.”

Mark turned away, staring absentmindedly at a cluster of pink flowers. “That many . . . that’s incredible. I’ve only met one other spirit user, and that was years ago. He too was bonded to his guardian. That guardian died, and it ripped him apart. He still helped us when Oksana and I were trying to figure things out.”

I braced myself for my own death all the time, and I feared for Lissa’s. Yet it had never occurred to me just what it would be like with a bond. How would it affect the other person? What would it be like to have a gaping hole, where once you’d been intimately linked to someone else?

“He never mentioned walking dreams either,” Mark continued. He chuckled again, friendly lines crinkling up around his blue eyes. “I thought I would be helping you, but maybe you’re here to help me.”

“I don’t know,” I said doubtfully. “I think you guys have more experience at this than we do.”

“Where’s your bondmate?”

“Back in the U.S.” I didn’t have to elaborate, but somehow, I needed to tell him the whole truth. “I . . . I left her.”

He frowned. “Left as in . . . you simply traveled? Or left as in you abandoned her?”

Abandoned
. The word was like a slap in the face, and suddenly, all I could envision was that last day I’d seen her, when I’d left her crying.

“I had things to do,” I said evasively.

“Yes, I know. Oksana told me.”

“Told you what?”

Now he hesitated. “She shouldn’t have done it. . . . She tries not to.”

“Done what?” I exclaimed, uneasy for reasons I couldn’t explain.

“She, well . . . she brushed your mind. During brunch.”

I thought back and suddenly recalled the tickling in my head, the heat rolling over me. “What does that mean exactly?”

“An aura can tell a spirit user about someone’s personality. But Oksana can also dig further, reaching in and actually reading more specific information about a person. Sometimes she can tie that ability into compulsion . . . but the results are very, very powerful. And wrong. It’s not right to do that to someone you have no bond with.”

It took me a moment to process that. Neither Lissa nor Adrian could read the thoughts of others. The closest Adrian could come to someone’s mind was the dream walking. Lissa couldn’t do that, not even for me. I could feel her, but the opposite wasn’t true.

“Oksana could feel . . . oh, I don’t know how to explain it. There’s a recklessness in you. You’re on some sort of quest. There’s vengeance written all over your soul.” He suddenly reached over and lifted my hair up, peering at my neck. “Just as I thought. You’re unpromised.”

I jerked my head back. “Why is that such a big deal? That whole town back there is filled with dhampirs who aren’t guardians.” I still thought Mark was a nice guy, but being preached to always irritated me.

“Yes, but they’ve chosen to settle down. You . . . and others like you . . . you become vigilantes of sorts. You’re obsessed with hunting Strigoi on your own, with personally setting out to right the wrongs that whole race has brought down upon us. That can only lead to trouble. I see it all the time.”

“All the time?” I asked, startled.

“Why do you think guardian numbers are dwindling? They’re leaving to have homes and families. Or they’re going off like you, still fighting but answering to no one—unless they’re hired to be bodyguards or Strigoi hunters.”

“Dhampirs for hire . . .” I suddenly began to understand how a non-royal like Abe had gotten his bodyguards. Money could make anything happen, I supposed. “I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

“Of course not. You think the Moroi and other guardians want that widely known? Want to dangle that in front of you as an option?”

“I don’t see what’s so wrong with Strigoi hunting. We’re always defensive, not offensive, when it comes to Strigoi. Maybe if more dhampirs set out after them, they wouldn’t be such a problem.”

“Perhaps, but there are different ways of going about that, some better than others. And when you’re going out like you are—with a heart filled with sorrow and revenge? That’s not one of the better ways. It’ll make you sloppy. And the shadow-kissed darkness will just complicate things.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and stared stonily ahead. “Yeah, well, it’s not like I can do much about that.”

He turned to me, expression surprised once more. “Why don’t you just have your bondmate heal the darkness out of you?”

I
STARED AT MARK FOR several long seconds. Finally, stupidly, I asked, “Did you say . . . heal?”

Mark stared at me in equal surprise. “Yes, of course. She can heal other things, right? Why not this?”

“Because . . .” I frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense. The darkness . . . all the bad side effects . . . those come from Lissa. If she could just heal it, why wouldn’t she heal it out of herself?”

“Because when it’s in her, it’s too ingrained. Too tied into her being. She can’t heal it the way she can other things. But once your bond has pulled it into
you
, it’s like any other sickness.”

My heart was pounding in my chest. What he was suggesting was too ridiculously easy. No, it was just ridiculous, period. There was no way after all that we’d been through that Lissa could heal that rage and depression the way she could a cold or a broken leg. Victor Dashkov, despite his wicked schemes, had known an astonishing amount about spirit and had explained it to us. The other four elements were more physical in nature, but spirit came from the mind and soul. To use that much mental energy—to be able to do such powerful things—couldn’t be done without devastating side effects. We’d been fighting those side effects from the beginning, first in Lissa and then in me. They couldn’t just go away.

“If that were possible,” I said quietly, “then everyone would have done it. Ms. Karp wouldn’t have lost her mind. Anna wouldn’t have committed suicide. What you’re saying is too easy.” Mark didn’t know who I was talking about, but clearly it didn’t matter for what he wanted to express.

“You’re right. It’s not easy at all. It requires a careful balance, a circle of trust and strength between two people. It took Oksana and me a long time to learn . . . many hard years . . .”

His face darkened, and I could only imagine what those years had been like. My short time with Lissa had been bad enough. They’d had to live with this a lot longer than we had. It had to have been unbearable at times. Slowly, wonderingly, I dared to give credence to his words.

“But now you guys are okay?”

“Hmm.” There was a flicker of a wry smile on his lips. “I’d hardly say we’re
perfectly
okay. There’s only so much she can do, but it makes life manageable. She spaces out the healings as long as we can handle it, since it takes a lot out of her. It’s draining, and it limits her overall power.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “She can still do the other things . . . healing, compulsion . . . but not to the levels she would if she wasn’t always healing me.”

My hope faltered. “Oh. Then . . . I couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to Lissa.”

“Compared to what she’s doing to you? Rose. I have a feeling she’d think it was a fair trade.”

I thought back to our last meeting. I thought about how I’d left her there, despite her begging. I thought about the lows she’d been experiencing in my absence. I thought about how she’d refused to heal Dimitri when I’d thought there might still be hope for him. We’d both been bad friends.

I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I said in a small voice. “I don’t know if she would.”

Mark gave me a long, level look, but he didn’t push me on the matter. He glanced up at the sun, almost as if he could tell the time from it. He probably could. He had that surviving-in-the-wilderness kind of feel to him. “The others will wonder what happened to us. Before we go . . .” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, plain silver ring. “Learning to heal will take time. What worries me the most right now is this vigilante mood you’re in. The darkness is only going to make it worse. Take this.”

He extended the ring to me. I hesitated and then reached for it. “What is it?”

“Oksana infused it with spirit. It’s a healing charm.”

Once again, shock ran through me. Moroi charmed objects with elements all the time. Stakes were charmed with all four of the physical elements, making them lethal to Strigoi. Victor had charmed a necklace with earth magic, using the base nature of earth to turn the necklace into a lust charm. Even Sydney’s tattoo was a charm of sorts. I supposed there was no reason that spirit couldn’t charm objects too, but it had never occurred to me, probably because Lissa’s powers were still too new and too foreign.