Blood Promise (43 page)

It was like a nuclear explosion going off. The ghosts and spirits I’d summoned on the road to Baia burst between us. They were all around, translucent and luminescent in shades of pale green, blue, yellow, and silver. I’d let loose all of my defenses, let myself succumb to my emotions in a way I hadn’t been able to when Dimitri first caught me. The ring’s healing power had barely kept me in check just now, but it was gone. I had no barriers on my power.

Dimitri sprang back, wide-eyed. Like the Strigoi on the road, he waved his hands around, swatting the spirits as one would mosquitoes. His hands passed right through them, ineffectual. Their attack was more or less ineffectual too. They couldn’t physically hurt him, but they could affect the mind, and they were damned distracting. What had Mark said? The dead hate the undead. And from the way these ghosts swarmed Dimitri, it was clear that they did.

I stepped back, scanning the ground below me. There. The ring’s silver gleamed up at me from a puddle. I reached down and grabbed it, then ran off and left Dimitri to his fate. He wasn’t exactly screaming, but he was making some horrible noises. That tore at me, but I kept going, running toward the bridge. I reached it a minute or so later. It was as high as I’d feared, but it was sturdy and well built, if narrow. It was the kind of country bridge that only one car at a time could cross.

“I’ve come this far,” I muttered, staring up at the bank. It was not only higher than the one I’d fallen down, it was also steeper. I pocketed the ring and stake and then reached out, digging my hands into the ground. I was going to have to half-crawl, half-climb this one. My ankle got a slight reprieve; this was all upper-body strength now. As I climbed, however, I began to notice something. Faint flashes in my periphery. An impression of faces and skulls. And a throbbing pain in the back of my head.

Oh no. This had happened before too. In this panicked state, I couldn’t maintain the defenses I usually did to keep the dead away from
myself
. They were now approaching me, more curious than belligerent. But as their numbers grew, it all became as disorienting as what Dimitri was now experiencing.

They couldn’t hurt me, but they were freaking me out, and the telltale headache that came with them was starting to make me dizzy. Glancing back toward him, I saw something amazing. Dimitri was
still
coming. He really was a god, a god who brought death closer with each footstep. The ghosts still swarmed him like a cloud, yet he was managing progress, one agonizing step at a time. Turning back, I continued my climb, ignoring my own glowing companions as best I could.

At long last, I reached the top of the bank and stumbled onto the bridge. I could barely stand, my muscles were so weak. I made it a few more steps and then collapsed to my hands and knees. More and more spirits were spinning around, and my head was on the verge of exploding. Dimitri still made his slow progress but was a ways from the bank yet. I tried to stand again, using the bridge’s rails for support, and failed. The rough grating on the bridge scraped my bare legs.

“Damn.”

I knew what I had to do to save myself, though it could very well end up killing me, too. With trembling hands, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the ring. I shook so badly that I felt certain I’d drop it. Somehow, I held on and managed to slide it onto my finger. A small surge of warmth radiated from it into me, and I felt a tiny bit of control settle into my body. Unfortunately, the ghosts were still there.

The traces of that fear, of dying or turning Strigoi, were still in me, but it had lessened now that I was out of immediate danger. Feeling less unstable, I sought for the barriers and control I usually kept up, desperate to slam them into place and drive my visitors away.

“Go, go, go,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. The effort was like pushing on a mountain, an impossible obstacle that no one could have the strength for. This was what Mark had warned about, why I shouldn’t do this. The dead were a powerful asset, but once called, they were difficult to get rid of. What had he said? Those who danced on the edge of darkness and insanity shouldn’t risk this.

“Go!” I shouted, throwing my last bit of strength into the effort.

One by one, the phantoms around me vanished. I felt my world settle back into its rightful order. Only, when I looked down, I saw that the ghosts had left Dimitri too—as I’d suspected. And just like that, he was on the move again.

“Damn.” My word of the night.

I managed to get on my feet this time as he sprinted up the slope. Again, he was slower than usual—but still more than fast enough. I began backing up, never taking my eyes off of him. Getting rid of the ghosts had given me more strength, but not what I needed to get away. Dimitri had won.

“Another shadow-kissed effect?” he asked, stepping onto the bridge.

“Yeah.” I swallowed. “Turns out ghosts don’t much like Strigoi.”

“You didn’t seem to like them much either.”

I took another slow step backward. Where could I go? As soon as I turned around to run, he’d be on me.

“So, did I go far enough for you to not want to turn me?” I asked as cheerfully as I could manage.

He gave me a wry, twisted smile. “No. Your shadow-kissed abilities have their uses. . . . Too bad they’ll go away when you’re awakened.” So. That was still his plan. In spite of how much I’d infuriated him, he still wanted to keep me around for eternity.

“You’re not going to awaken me,” I said.

“Rose, there’s no way you can—”

“No.”

I climbed up onto the railing of the bridge, swinging one leg over. I knew what had to happen now. He froze.

“What are you doing?”

“I told you. I’ll die before I become Strigoi. I won’t be like you or the others. I don’t want that. You didn’t want that, once upon a time.” My face felt cold as a night breeze blew over it, the result of stealthy tears on my cheeks.

I swung my other leg over and peered down at the swiftly moving water. We were a lot more than two stories up. I’d hit the water hard, and even if I survived that fall, I didn’t have the strength to outswim the current and get to shore. As I stared down, contemplating my death, I thought back to when Dimitri and I sat in the backseat of an SUV once, discussing this very topic.

It was the first time we’d sat near each other, and every place our bodies touched had been warm and wonderful. He’d smelled good—that scent, that scent of being
alive
was gone now, I realized—and he’d been more relaxed than usual, ready to smile. We’d talked about what it meant to be alive and in full control of your soul—and what it meant to become one of the undead, to lose the love and light of life and all those you’d known. We’d looked at each other and agreed death was better than that fate.

Looking at Dimitri now, I had to agree.

“Rose, don’t.” I heard true panic in his voice. If he lost me over the edge, I was gone. No Strigoi. No awakening. For me to be turned, he needed to kill me by drinking my blood and then feed blood back to me. If I jumped, the water would kill me, not bloodletting. I would be long dead before he found me in the river.

“Please,” he begged. There was a plaintive note to his voice, one that startled me. It twisted my heart. It reminded me too much of the living Dimitri, the one who wasn’t a monster. The one who’d cared for me and loved me, who’d believed in me and made love to me. This Dimitri, the one who was none of those things, took two careful steps forward, then stopped again. “We need to be together.”

“Why?” I asked softly. The word was carried away on the wind, but he heard.

“Because I want you.”

I gave him a sad smile, wondering if we’d meet again in the land of the dead. “Wrong answer,” I told him.

I let go.

And he was right there, sprinting out to me with that insane Strigoi speed as I started to fall. He reached out and caught one of my arms, dragging me back onto the railing. Well, half-dragging. Only part of me made it over; the rest still hung out over the river.

“Stop fighting me!” he said, trying to pull on the arm he held.

He was in a precarious position himself, straddling the rail as he tried to lean over far enough to get me and actually hold onto me.

“Let go of me!” I yelled back.

But he was too strong and managed to haul most of me over the rail, enough so that I wasn’t in total danger of falling again.

See, here’s the thing. In that moment before I let go, I really had been contemplating my death. I’d come to terms with it and accepted it. I also, however, had known Dimitri might do something exactly like this. He was just that fast and that good. That was why I was holding my stake in the hand that was dangling free.

I looked him in the eye. “I will always love you.”

Then I plunged the stake into his chest.

It wasn’t as precise a blow as I would have liked, not with the skilled way he was dodging. I struggled to get the stake in deep enough to his heart, unsure if I could do it from this angle. Then, his struggles stopped. His eyes stared at me, stunned, and his lips parted, almost into a smile, albeit a grisly and pained one.

“That’s what I was supposed to say. . . .” he gasped out.

Those were his last words.

His failed attempt to dodge the stake had made him lose his balance on the edge. The stake’s magic made the rest easy, stunning him and his reflexes.

Dimitri fell.

He nearly took me with him, and I just barely managed to break free of him and cling to the railing. He dropped down into the darkness—down, down into the blackness of the Ob. A moment later he disappeared from sight.

I stared down after him, wondering if I would see him in the water if I squinted hard enough. But I didn’t. The river was too dark and too far away. Clouds moved back over the moon, and darkness fell over everything again. For a moment, staring down and realizing what I’d just done, I wanted to throw myself in after him, because surely there was no way I could go on living now.

You have to
. My inner voice was much calmer and more confident than it should have been.
The old Dimitri would want you to live. If you really loved him, then you have to go on.

With a shaking breath, I climbed over the rail and stood back on the bridge, surprisingly grateful for its security. I didn’t know how I would go on living, but I knew that I wanted to. I wasn’t going to feel fully safe until I was on solid ground, and with my body falling apart, I began to cross the bridge one step at a time. When I was on the other side, I had a choice. Follow the river or the road? They veered off from each other slightly, but both headed roughly in the direction of the city’s lights. I opted for the road. I didn’t want to be anywhere near the river. I would not think about what had just happened. I
couldn’t
think about it. My brain refused.
Worry about staying alive first. Then worry about how you’re going to live.

The road, while clearly rural, was flat and packed and made for easy walking—for anyone else. A light rain began falling, which just added insult to injury. I kept wanting to sit and rest, to curl up in a ball and think of nothing else.
No, no, no
. The light. I had to go toward the light. That almost made me laugh out loud. It was funny, really. Like I was someone having a near-death experience. Then I did laugh. This whole night had been full of near-death experiences. This was the least of them.

It was also the last, and as much as I longed for the city, it was too far away. I’m not sure how long I walked before I finally had to stop and sit.
Just a minute,
I decided. I’d rest for a minute and then keep moving. I
had
to keep moving. If by some crazy chance I’d missed his heart, Dimitri could be climbing out of the river at any moment. Or other surviving Strigoi could be coming after me from the manor.

But I didn’t get up in a minute. I think I may have slept, and I honestly don’t know how long I’d been sitting there when headlights suddenly spurred me to alertness. A car slowed down and came to a stop. I managed to get to my feet, bracing myself.

No Strigoi got out. Instead, an old human man did. He peered at me and said something in Russian. I shook my head and backed up a step. He leaned into the car and said something, and a moment later, an older woman joined him. She looked at me and her eyes widened, face compassionate. She said something gentle-sounding and held out her hand to me, cautious in the way one would be when approaching a feral animal. I stared at her for several heavy seconds and then pointed at the purple horizon.

“Novosibirsk,” I said.

She followed my gesture and nodded. “Novosibirsk.” She pointed to me and then to the car. “Novosibirsk.”

I hesitated a little longer and then let her lead me into the backseat. She took off her coat and laid it over me, and I noticed then that I was soaked from the rain. I had to be a mess after everything I’d been through tonight. It was a wonder they’d even stopped. The old man began driving again, and it occurred to me I could have just gotten in a car with serial killers. But then, how would that be any different from the rest of my night?

The mental and physical pain were starting to drag me under, and with my last effort, I wet my lips and choked out another gem from my Russian vocabulary.

“
Pazvaneet
?”

The woman looked back at me in surprise. I wasn’t sure if I had the word right. I might have just asked for a pay phone instead of a cell phone—or maybe I’d asked for a giraffe—but hopefully the message came through regardless. A moment later, she reached into her purse and handed me a cell phone. Even in Siberia, everyone was wired. With shaking hands, I dialed the number I now had memorized. A female voice answered.

“
Alló
.”

“Sydney? This is Rose. . . .”

I
DIDN’T RECOGNIZE THE GUY Sydney sent to meet us when we reached Novosibirsk, but he had the same golden tattoo that she did. He was sandy-haired and in his thirties—and human, of course. He looked competent and trustworthy, and as I leaned against the car, he laughed and spoke to the elderly couple like they’d been best friends forever. There was a professional and reassuring air about him, and soon they were smiling too. I’m not sure what he told them, maybe that I was his wayward daughter or something, but they apparently felt good enough to leave me in his hands. I supposed with their jobs, the Alchemist charm in action.