Blood Promise (22 page)

“The guardians don’t hunt Strigoi!” cried Denis. “They sit and wait and cower before the Moroi.”

The unfortunate part was, he had a point. But not entirely.

“That’s changing,” I said. “There’s a movement to start taking the offensive against the Strigoi. There’s also talk of the Moroi learning to fight with us. You could help be a part of that.”

“Like you are?” he laughed. “You still haven’t told us why you’re here and not with them. You can say what you want to the rest of this group, but
I
know why you’re here. I can see it in you.” The crazy, eerie look he gave me almost made me think that he could. “You know the only way to rid the world of evil is to do it on our own. To seek out the Strigoi ourselves and kill them, one by one.”

“Without a plan,” finished Karolina. “Without any thought of the consequences.”

“We’re strong and we know how to fight. That’s all we need to know when it comes to killing Strigoi.”

And that was when I understood. I finally got what Mark had been trying to tell me. Denis was saying exactly what I had been thinking since I left St. Vladimir’s. I’d run off without a plan, wanting to throw myself into danger because I felt I had a mission that only I could carry out. Only I could kill Dimitri. Only I could destroy the evil within him. I’d been giving no thought to how I’d pull it off—seeing as Dimitri had beat me more often than not in fights when he was still a dhampir. With a Strigoi’s strength and speed now? The odds were definitely against me. Still, I hadn’t cared. I’d been obsessed, convinced I had to do this.

In my own head, what I had to do made sense, but now . . . hearing those sentiments from Denis, it sounded crazy. Just as reckless as Mark had warned. Their motives might be good—just as mine were—but they were also suicidal. Without Dimitri, I honestly hadn’t cared much about my own life. I’d never been afraid to risk it before, but now I realized there was a big difference between dying uselessly and dying for a reason. If I died trying to kill Dimitri because I had no strategy, then my life would have meant nothing.

Just then, the priest walked over and said something to us in Russian. From his tone and expression, I think he was asking if everything was okay. He’d mingled with the rest of the congregation after the service. Being human, he probably didn’t know all the dhampir politics afoot, but he could undoubtedly sense trouble.

Denis offered him a simpering smile and gave what sounded like a polite explanation. The priest smiled in return, nodded, and wandered off when someone else called to him.

“Enough,” said Karolina harshly, once the priest was out of earshot. “You need to go. Now.”

Denis’s body tensed, and mine responded, ready for a fight. I thought he might start something then and there. A few seconds later, he relaxed and turned to me.

“Show them to me first.”

“Show you what?” I asked.

“The marks. Show me how many Strigoi you’ve killed.”

I didn’t respond right away, wondering if this was a trick. Everyone’s eyes were on me. Turning slightly, I lifted the hair off the back of my neck and showed my tattoos. Little lightning-shaped
molnija
marks were there, along with the mark I’d gotten for the battle. From the sound of Denis’s gasp, I was guessing he’d never seen that many kills before. I let my hair go and met his gaze levelly.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“You’re wasting your time,” he said at last, gesturing to the people behind me. “With them. With this place. You should come with us to Novosibirsk. We’ll help make your life worthwhile.”

“I’m the only one who can make anything of my life.” I pointed down the street. “You were asked to leave. Now go.”

I held my breath, still bracing for a fight. After several tense moments, the group retreated. Before turning around, Denis gave me one last piercing look.

“This isn’t what you want and you know it. When you change your mind, come find us at 83 Kasakova. We leave at sunrise tomorrow.”

“You’ll be leaving without me,” I said.

Denis’ smile sent another chill down my spine. “We’ll see.”

T
HE ENCOUNTER WITH DENIS LEFT me even more confused than before. It was a shocking illustration of Mark’s warning, an omen of what I too might become if I wasn’t careful. I wasn’t really the same as Denis, was I? I wasn’t
aimlessly
seeking danger. I was seeking danger . . . well, for a reason. I had to fulfill the promise I’d made to find Dimitri. Maybe it was suicidal and I was only deluding myself into thinking it was noble.

Viktoria left me little opportunity to ruminate. Later that evening, as the family was settling down in the living room after way too much food, she glibly asked Olena, “Can I go over to Marina’s? She’s having a party before we go back to school.”

Wow. It looked like Abe and the Alchemists weren’t the only ones keeping secrets around here. I glanced between Olena and Viktoria’s faces, curious as to how this would play out. Olena and Yeva were both knitting, but Yeva didn’t look up. Viktoria had spoken in English. Olena’s face turned thoughtful.

“You have to leave early tomorrow to go back to school.”

“I know. But I can sleep on the bus. Everyone else will be there tonight.”

“‘Everyone else’ isn’t a convincing argument,” scoffed Olena.

“They’ll all be tired tomorrow too,” replied Viktoria, grinning.

“You’ll miss your last night with Rose.”

“I’ll hang out with her after I get back.”

“Great. And stay up even later.”

“Not that late. I’ll be back by two.”

“Absolutely not. You’ll be back by midnight.” Olena returned to her knitting. But that had been permission if I’d ever heard it.

Viktoria looked at the clock. It was almost eight thirty. Her face told me she wasn’t happy about the curfew, but she apparently decided to take what she could get. Karolina gave us an odd look as we left the room but remained silent. Sonya and Paul, engrossed in TV, barely noticed our departure. I had to find out what was going on.

“Okay,” I said once we were heading upstairs, “what gives? I thought you weren’t going to Marina’s.”

Viktoria grinned and beckoned me into her bedroom. I’d recently learned her bedroom used to be Dimitri’s, and every time I was in here, I had to resist the urge to go bury myself in the bed, even though I knew the sheets had been washed countless times since those days. Somehow, I could imagine them smelling like Dimitri and feeling warm as though we were both lying there together.

“I’m not.” Viktoria began rifling through her closet and pulled out a short, sleeveless red dress with lace around the straps. The fabric was stretchy—the kind that looked like it’d show
everything
. I was shocked when she began putting it on. It was pretty trashy.

“Is this a joke?”

Nope. Viktoria took off her shirt and jeans and pulled the dress on. She had no trouble with it, but it was every bit as clingy as it had appeared. She wasn’t as filled out as I was on top, but in a dress like that, it didn’t matter.

“Okay,” I said, catching on at last. “What’s his name?”

“Rolan,” she said. “Oh, Rose. He’s amazing. And this is the last night I’ll get to see him before school.”

I didn’t know whether to feel happy for her or sad for Nikolai. This Rolan guy must have been the reason she couldn’t give Nikolai the time of day. She was totally in love with someone else. Still, that dress . . .

“You must really like him,” I observed dryly.

Her eyes widened. “Do you want to meet him?”

“Er, well, I don’t want to interfere with your date . . . .”

“You won’t. Just stop by and say hi, okay?”

It felt pretty intrusive, yet at the same time . . . well, I was kind of curious about a guy who could get her to leave the house in that kind of outfit, particularly when she started applying really heavy makeup: extra-dark eyeliner and bright red lipstick. So I agreed to meet Rolan, and we left the house as quietly as we could. Despite wearing a coat over her dress, Viktoria still didn’t want to run into her mother.

We headed downtown, following a few twists and turns until we ended up behind what looked like an ordinary warehouse in an abandoned part of town. All was quiet, but a tall, tough-looking dhampir stood by a door leading into the building, his arms crossed in front of him. Viktoria brought us to a halt nearby, saying we had to wait there. A minute later, a group of Moroi men of mixed ages wandered up, chatting and laughing. The dhampir gave them a once-over and then opened the door for them. Light and music spilled out until the door shut—and all went silent again.

“So this is Baia’s secret dhampir world,” I murmured. She didn’t hear me because suddenly, her face lit up.

“There he is!”

She pointed to two approaching guys. Both were Moroi. Well, who knew? Viktoria’s secret boyfriend wasn’t a dhampir. I guessed that wasn’t too shocking, really, though the way she’d dressed tonight still bothered me. She gave him a fierce hug and introduced us. His friend was named Sergey, and he smiled politely before hurrying inside where he was apparently meeting a girl too.

I had to give Viktoria credit: Rolan was hot. His hair was dark auburn, soft and wavy. The green of his eyes reminded me—painfully—of Adrian’s. And when he smiled at Viktoria, it was dazzling. The look on her face was exactly like Nikolai’s whenever he was around her.

Rolan took a hold of Viktoria’s hands and brought them to his lips, kissing each one. Those green, green eyes gazed at hers, and he murmured something I couldn’t hear. She blushed and replied in Russian. I didn’t need any translation to know the content was sexy and flirty. Still smiling, he glanced over at me, and although she’d introduced us, it was like he was noticing me for the first time—and was interested.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” he asked.

Viktoria wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. “Rose is visiting. She’s a friend of the family.”

“Ah,” he said. “Now I remember hearing about you. I had no idea such a fierce Strigoi killer would be so beautiful.”

“It’s part of the job description,” I said dryly.

“Will you be returning to school with Viktoria?” he asked.

“No. I’ll be staying here a little longer.” I still had no clue, though, if “a little longer” was one hour or one year.

“Hmm,” he said thoughtfully. He looked back down at Viktoria and pressed a kiss to her hair, running his fingers along her throat. His next words were to her. “I’m glad you were able to come here before you left. I don’t know how I’ll get by with you so far away.”

She beamed. “There was no way I could leave without seeing you one more time. . . .” She trailed off, too overcome with emotion, and as he leaned down, hand still on her throat, I thought for an awful moment that they were going to start making out then and there.

Fortunately, the appearance of an approaching dhampir girl interrupted them. Viktoria broke from Rolan and embraced the other girl. They apparently hadn’t seen each other in a while and chatted rapidly in Russian, ignoring Rolan and me. Free of her for a moment, he leaned toward me.

“Once Viktoria has returned to school, you’ll be all alone here. Maybe I could show you around then?”

“Thanks, but I’ve already seen everything.”

He kept that big smile on. “Of course. Well, then, perhaps we could simply get together and . . . talk?”

I couldn’t believe it. This guy had had his hands all over Viktoria thirty seconds ago and was now trying to score plans with me the instant she left town. I was disgusted and had to restrain myself from doing something stupid.

“Sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be around long enough.”

I got the impression that women didn’t refuse him very often. He frowned and started to protest, but Viktoria returned and wrapped herself around him again. He studied me for several more puzzled seconds and then shifted his attention to her, smiling and turning on the charm. She ate it all up, and while the two tried to include me in their conversation, it was clear they were totally absorbed in each other. Rolan might be interested in me, but for now, she was an easier target—and one that wouldn’t be available much longer. I felt that disgust roil up in me again. The longer we stood out there, the more I realized what was going on. All the people going inside were Moroi guys or dhampir girls. And the girls were all dressed like Viktoria. This was a blood whore den. Suddenly, Baia’s secret dhampir world held no appeal.

I hated it. I wanted nothing more than to get out of here. No, wait. I wanted nothing more than to get out of here
and
drag Viktoria away, even kicking and screaming. Rolan was sleazy, no question, and I didn’t want her anywhere near him. Yet it soon became clear they weren’t going to stand out in the alley all night. They wanted to go inside and do God only knew what.

“Viktoria,” I said, trying to be reasonable, “are you sure you don’t want to come back home and hang out? I mean, I won’t get to see you tomorrow.”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “I won’t get to see Rolan either. But I promise I’ll come see you as soon as I get home later. We’ll stay up all night. Mom won’t care.”

I didn’t know what other protests to make. Rolan’s impatience, now that I’d refused him, was starting to show. He wanted to go inside. I wondered what was there . . . a dance floor? Bedrooms? I probably could have gone with them to see for myself, despite being underdressed—or, well, overdressed as far as amounts of clothing went. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to do it. All my life, I’d been taught about blood whores and why their lifestyle was wrong. I didn’t know if Viktoria was becoming one—and I hoped she wasn’t—but there was no way I could set foot in there. It was a matter of principle.

I watched them go with a heavy heart, wondering what I’d just let my friend walk into. Seeing her in that ultra-tight dress, plastered all over him, suddenly made me reevaluate everything. How much of this peaceful life in Baia was a sham? Was Viktoria—the girl who’d called me a sister—really not the person I thought she was? Confused, I turned away to head back home—