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Authors: Richelle Mead

BOOK: The Fiery Heart
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She bid us farewell and left without a backward glance, but as I got in line to check in, my phone buzzed with a text:
I love you.

On such short notice, we had to fly coach. Keeping me away from the temptation of complimentary liquor was probably just as well, since I'd need a clear head to tune in to spirit. Neil, mercifully, was a quiet companion, and I tried to distract myself by reading
The Great Gatsby
. Sydney had been horrified to discover my home library consisted of a bartending dictionary and an old copy of
Esquire
, and at her pleading, I'd promised to read something more substantial. I was trying to think deep thoughts as I read
Gatsby
, but mostly I wanted to throw some parties.

Nina and Olive were being kept at a safe house on the far outskirts of Dallas, with few neighbors to notice the odd sight of guardians patrolling the property. We parked our rental car in the driveway, and through the window, I recognized a familiar figure sitting on the porch's chair swing, her feet up propped up on the railing. A prickle of anxiety ran through me.

“Here goes nothing,” I muttered.

Rose stood up as we stepped onto the porch. For a moment, I was transported to our first meeting over a year ago, also on a porch. That one had been covered in snow, attached to a posh ski resort. Her beauty had taken my breath away then, and now, after all this time, I still wasn't unaffected. Her long, dark hair spilled over her shoulders, and there was a fire in her brown eyes that was both dangerous and alluring. That same mix radiated from her body, even in a casual pose and wearing jeans.

And yet, though I admired her, I didn't feel the old attraction or even pain. Sure, there was always going to be a sting from the insensitive way she'd botched up our brief relationship, but my heart no longer raced at the sight of her. I didn't feel the devastation of having the love of my life ripped away. I didn't even hate her anymore. Mostly, I found myself thinking of Sydney, with her lithe legs crossed underneath her as she studied books on my bed, the golden sunlight illuminating her face when she looked up to give me a knowing smile.

“You made good time,” I said by way of greeting. “Did Belikov bend the rules of time and space to get here so fast? He can do that, right?” The Moroi Royal Court was in Pennsylvania, making for a much longer trip than mine had been.

Rose smiled at that, though I could sense a little wariness in her as well. She wasn't sure what to expect from me and was afraid I might do something that would cause a scene. I couldn't blame her. It was probably why she was receiving me here before letting me into the volatile situation inside.

“No need to today. We got really, really lucky and got on a flight the instant we heard about this. And we only just got here about an hour ago.” She shook Neil's hand. “I'm Rose.”

“Neil,” he said, with a formal bow of his head. “It's a great honor to meet you. Your heroics with Dimitri Belikov are legendary.”

“Um, thanks,” she said. It was nice to see one woman finally immune to that accent. That wasn't to say Rose wasn't a sucker for accents. She just preferred hers from the other side of Europe. “He's inside if you want to meet him.”

Neil lit up. “That'd be wonderful.” He cast an uncertain look at me, and I waved him off.

“Go, go. I'll be fine. Besides, this is Rose's not-so-subtle way of saying she wants to talk to me alone. Go do some hero worship.”

Neil didn't need to be told twice. She watched him with amusement and then turned back to me, sobering a little. “I also figured you'd want a cigarette. Must have been rough going, what, three hours?” she teased.

“Three hours? Hell, Rose. I'm going on about six weeks.”

The complete shock on her face was one of the best things I'd seen all day. To be fair, her surprise wasn't entirely unwarranted. I'd kind of quit while dating her, though I'd cracked a few times and then completely relapsed afterward. “You . . . quit?”

I put my hands in my coat pockets and leaned against the railing. “It's a bad habit.”

“Wow . . . well, good for you.” She overcame her amazement and apparently decided to further assess my new respectability. “And I heard you're in college too?”

“Yup. Taking some art classes. Just finished a project examining the symbolic evolution from the
Australopithecus
age to the one of superficial media obsession.” The words rolled easily off my tongue, and I wondered how many hot points that would've scored me if Sydney were here.

“Wow,” Rose said again, her eyes widening.

I played it cool. “Just a little something I threw together. But let's focus on business. What am I going to find inside?”

She snapped instantly back to attention. “About what I saw in Lexington when Robert Doru saved Sonya. An exhausted spirit user and a confused patient. Dimitri's been talking to Olive, which seems to have helped already, and I'm sure Nina will feel better having you around.”

It was a nice setup for making some joke about how all women loved having me around, but I decided to withhold my stunning wit until I'd seen things with my own eyes. “How'd you find out about this?”

“A guardian called us. I guess Nina had been looking for her sister for a long time and used a guardian friend to create this whole elaborate trap to restore Olive.” Rose's face turned sympathetic. “But Nina wasn't prepared for the physical and mental toll it took on both of them. That's when the guardian called for help. It all happened less than twenty-four hours ago.”

“Explaining the urgency,” I murmured. Everyone really had acted quickly. “Well, we'll see what I can find. Spirit's fickle.”

“Yeah, believe me, I know. I miss that connection with Lissa, but I don't miss living with spirit.” She tilted her head to study me. “How are things with Jill?”

I gave her the same answer I had given Lissa. “The same. Not much of the nasty side effects getting to her, but we also haven't learned to put barriers between us. So she still gets to experience the awesome adventures of Adrian Ivashkov firsthand.”

“I'm a little worried about how ‘awesome' they are.” Her dubious look transformed to one of horror. “Oh, God, Adrian. You aren't working your way through every Moroi girl in southern California, are you?”

“Of course not,” I said. “I'm much more discriminating.”

She groaned. “Even one is too much. You should be ashamed of yourself, exposing Jill to your sex life. Isn't it possible for you to abstain from your cheap flings for just a little while? For Jill's sake?”

Some part of me wanted to defend the magnitude of my relationship with Sydney. The rest of me knew that if the world thought I was rampantly having one-night stands with Moroi girls, they'd never suspect I was devoted to a human one.

I gave Rose a cocky grin. “Hey, I've gotta live, don't I?”

She shook her head in disgust and headed for the door. “I guess some things can't change.”

It was an older house but still in good condition, and I wondered where they'd dug it up. According to Lissa, it didn't belong to either of the sisters and had been set up by the guardians to provide a safe haven. As we stepped into the front room, a Moroi girl close to my age stood waiting for us. Her hair was a tangle of dark curls, and she had a blanket draped around her like a cloak.

Rose's disposition immediately softened. “Nina, you should get back to bed.”

The girl shook her head and glanced between us with wide, gray eyes. “I want to know what's going on. Why are new people here? What are you going to do with Olive? Are you going to experiment on her like some sort of lab animal?” The girl began to tremble, her face full of fear and outrage, and my heart went out to her.

“Everything's going to be fine,” I said, sending out a trickle of compulsion to soothe her. “There's no need to worry.”

Her features started to relax, and then she suddenly blinked and fixed me with a glare. “Don't try that on
me
.”

Worn out or not, Nina Sinclair was still a savvy spirit user. I chuckled and held up my hands in a placating gesture. “Just trying to help.”

“Everything really will be okay,” Rose told her. “This is Adrian. He just needs to talk to her. You can come along.”

Nina gave me a long, suspicious look but said nothing else as she followed us farther into the house. We reached a spacious bedroom with peeling wallpaper and a quilt-covered bed. A dhampir girl sat upright in it. I hid how much that surprised me. No one had mentioned it, and I'd just assumed the sisters were both Moroi. Although they shared black hair, they were complete opposites in other features. Olive's skin was a coppery brown, making me think of Native American heritage, and her eyes were large and dark. She had the athletic build most dhampirs had, contrasting with her sister's tall, slim frame. Only a similarity in their facial shape and high cheekbones suggested they shared a parent, probably their father, seeing as Moroi men liked to have dhampir women on the side. It gave me a new regard for Nina, since dhampir half siblings weren't always acknowledged. Nina had risked her life for hers.

Along with Rose, Dimitri, and Neil, there were three other guardians in the room, creating an almost comical scene, considering how docile Olive looked at the moment. In fact, Dimitri was making this very argument to one of the unknown guardians, telling him, “There's no Strigoi part of her left, trust me. You don't need this much security. She's safe.”

The other guardian didn't seem certain. “We have our orders.”

Dimitri raked a hand through his chin-length hair in frustration, knowing better than anyone else that restored Strigoi possessed no more of that undead state. Everyone technically knew it, but fear still ran high in some people. Seeing me, he let his argument go and gave me a smile that was genuine. He and I had recently had to spend a lot of time together, and although it was hard to shake that he was the one Rose had left me for, I couldn't help but feel a grudging respect for him.

“Adrian,” he said. “I'm glad you could be here. We're hoping that acting so quickly might get us somewhere the experiments didn't.”

He kept talking, but my attention was all on Olive. I summoned spirit to view her aura, which was a mix of what I'd expect from a dhampir and what I would not expect: the brilliant flares of gold seen in a spirit user. Even as I watched, that gold was fading ever so slightly. I drew on more spirit and heard Nina catch her breath. She might be too drained to produce much of her own, but it would be obvious to her how much I was using. I focused on Olive again, trying to look past her aura, more deeply into her very essence. I'd never done it before, and it was much more difficult than I'd expected. I didn't even know if it would accomplish anything. I was simply playing a hunch.

I gritted my teeth and concentrated harder. There—it was hard to see. In fact, it was more of a sense than actual vision. But every part of Olive was infused with that same golden glow. I couldn't see at a cellular level or anything, but I suddenly knew that all of her being was wrapped in spirit. And like the aura, it was fading with each breath she took. There was still plenty there, but connecting what I saw now with how long ago she'd been saved, I had a feeling it would all dissipate within hours. I blinked, and the spirit burning within me went out. Olive looked normal again.

The room was silent. I dragged my eyes from her and looked at everyone else. They were all staring back expectantly. I swallowed, and for the briefest of moments, my earlier anxiety swelled inside my chest. The magnitude of what I faced slammed into me. We were on the verge of one of the biggest breakthroughs in our race's history, and everyone was looking to me to figure it out. Me! What were they thinking? I was no genius like Sydney. I was just a slacker guy who fought the temptation of his liquor cabinet every day and couldn't finish
The Great Gatsby
. Who was I to do this?

An image of Sydney's face appeared in my mind's eye, calm and lovely.
I believe in you.

My anxiety faded. I took a deep breath and met the gazes of all those watching me in the room. Who was I to do this?

I was Adrian Ivashkov. And I was about to kick some ass.

“If you want any chance of learning how to save others, you need to do exactly as I say. And you need to it now.”

CHAPTER 8

SYDNEY

A
DRIAN'S TRIP SHOULDN'T HAVE BOTHERED ME
as much as it did. After all, it wasn't like I would've gotten to spend much time with him anyway this weekend. But the thought of the physical distance between us hit me acutely. Even when we weren't together, I always had a sense of him being nearby—even if “nearby” meant across town at Carlton. In Palm Springs, I felt in control, like I could measure the steps between us or imagine strands of light connecting us no matter where we were. But Texas was out of my reach, out of my control. Adrian had left our safe haven—such as it was—and was out in the world, adrift.

At least I hadn't had to lie to Zoe about canceling our outing together. Neil had needed a ride to the airport, and figuring out how to prevent Strigoi turning was a huge priority among the Alchemists, one we certainly wanted to help the Moroi with. When Zoe asked why Neil couldn't have just taken a taxi, I gave her the same excuse I'd given him and Adrian: that I needed to see them off in person. Since Zoe believed most Moroi and dhampirs were sketchy and unreliable, this story worked.

It also gave me a little free time to stop at a New Age store on the way back and procure a few potential rocks and crystals to attempt elemental binding in. Although I had a lot of theoretical ideas about what might replace the boleite, I wasn't having much luck with anything yet. There was still time before Marcus surfaced, but I worried I wouldn't be able to deliver on my promises to him if I couldn't figure this out.

I stopped by Ms. Terwilliger's classroom with my purchases and found her grading tests at her desk. She gave me a brief glance and returned to her paperwork, not even needing to ask why I was there. I shut the door—after first putting on the
KNOCK, PLEASE
sign she'd made—and set to work.

Earth and fire were my two best elements so far, but for these trials, I stuck to the former. It was easier to brush dirt off my hands if anyone showed up than it was to cover up the smell of smoke. I worked on my first stone, zircon, and although I felt the transfer of magic into it, something seemed a little off. I took it to Ms. Terwilliger for confirmation since she was more adept than I was at sensing magic within objects and people. She held up the zircon to the light and studied it for several long moments before shaking her head.

“There's some in there, but not nearly as much as I sensed you summoning over there. It didn't all make it in.” She handed the stone back. “It might be sufficient for your needs, but I'm guessing you'd probably want as much as you can get.”

I nodded. I hadn't explained my purpose, and she hadn't asked. She mostly seemed content that I was independently studying the arts. I returned to my workstation and continued on with the last two stones, achieving equally disappointing results. One didn't absorb magic at all. The other held it briefly, and then the magic bled out. I slouched back in the desk, defeated.

“I'm running out of easily accessible options,” I said, more to myself than her. “A halide like boleite's my best bet, but it isn't really lying around. I'm going to have to start ordering from rock dealers on the internet.”

Ms. Terwilliger didn't have a chance to respond to my geological ramblings because someone knocked on the door. I slipped the rocks into my pocket and tried to look studious as she called a welcome. I figured Zoe had tracked me down, but surprisingly, Angeline walked in.

“Did you know,” she said, “that it's a lot harder to put organs back in the body than it is to get them out?”

I closed my eyes and silently counted to five before opening them again. “Please tell me you haven't eviscerated someone.”

She shook her head. “No, no. I left my biology homework in Miss Wentworth's room, but when I went back to get it, she'd already left and locked the door. But it's due tomorrow, and I'm already in trouble in there, so I
had
to get it. So, I went around outside, and her window lock wasn't that hard to open, and I—”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “You broke into a classroom?”

“Yeah, but that's not the problem.”

Behind me, I heard a choking laugh from Ms. Terwilliger's desk.

“Go on,” I said wearily.

“Well, when I climbed through, I didn't realize there was a bunch of stuff in the way, and I crashed into those plastic models of the human body she has. You know, the life-size ones with all the parts inside? And bam!” Angeline held up her arms for effect. “Organs everywhere.” She paused and looked at me expectantly. “So what are we going to do? I can't get in trouble with her.”

“We?” I exclaimed.

“Here,” said Ms. Terwilliger. I turned around, and she tossed me a set of keys. From the look on her face, it was taking every ounce of self-control not to burst out laughing. “That square one's a master. I know for a fact she has yoga and won't be back for the rest of the day. I imagine you can repair the damage—and retrieve the homework—before anyone's the wiser.”

I knew that the “you” in “you can repair” meant me. With a sigh, I stood up and packed up my things. “Thanks,” I said.

As Angeline and I walked down to the science wing, I told her, “You know, the next time you've got a problem, maybe come to me before it becomes an even bigger problem.”

“Oh no,” she said nobly. “I didn't want to be an incon-venience.”

Her description of the scene was pretty accurate: organs everywhere. Miss Wentworth had two models, male and female, with carved out torsos that cleverly held removable parts of the body that could be examined in greater detail. I had a pretty good sense of anatomy but still opened up a textbook for reference as I began sorting the mess. Angeline, realizing her uselessness here, perched on a far counter and swung her legs as she watched me. I'd started reassembling the male when I heard a voice behind me.

“Melbourne, I always knew you'd need to learn about this kind of thing. I'd just kind of hoped you'd learn it from a real guy.”

I glanced back at Trey as he leaned in the doorway with a smug expression. “Ha, ha. If you were a real friend, you'd come help me.” I pointed at the female model. “Let's see some of your alleged expertise in action.”

“Alleged?” He sounded indignant but strolled in anyway.

I hadn't really thought much about asking him for help. Mostly I was thinking this was taking much longer than it should, and I had more important things to do with my time. It was only when he came to a sudden halt that I realized my mistake.

“Oh,” he said, seeing Angeline. “Hi.”

Her swinging feet stopped, and her eyes were as wide as his. “Um, hi.”

The tension ramped up from zero to sixty in a matter of seconds, and I tried not to groan. After all, their situation wasn't all that different from mine. How would I feel if Adrian and I suddenly ended our relationship because of the taboos ingrained in our races? Trey and Angeline had split up because of outside pressures, not anything between them. And as I studied the longing in her eyes, I knew that the show she put on for Neil was exactly that: a show.

Everyone seemed at a loss for words. Angeline jerked her head toward the models and blurted out, “I had an accident.”

That seemed to snap Trey from his daze, and a smile curved his lips. Whereas Angeline's antics made me want to pull out my hair sometimes, he found them endearing.

“That seems to happen a lot,” he said.

“It wasn't my fault,” she insisted.

“It never is.”

“I just have bad luck.”

“Or you're just trouble.”

“You got a problem with that?”

“No problem at all,” he said in a low voice.

“Oh my God,” I exclaimed. “Are you going to help or not?”

Somehow, the awkward tension had become sexual tension, and I was about ready to bolt. Trey, after one more long, heated look at her, turned away and threw himself into reassembling the female model. I hadn't put much stock in his bragging, but to my surprise, he finished pretty quickly.

“Told you I'm an expert,” he said, with a sidelong glance at Angeline.

They both seemed to have forgotten me again and were going all dreamy-eyed. I cleared my throat. “Angeline, it's almost time for dinner. Do you need to go change?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” She had enough presence of mind to fetch the homework that had started all of this. “Thanks for helping,” she told Trey, as though I hadn't even done anything.

He gave a nonchalant shrug, like he did this every day. “No problem.”

After he'd swaggered out the door, Angeline gave a mournful sigh. “Oh, Sydney. Why does he have to be one of those stupid Warriors?”

I locked up the classroom. “Well, he's not technically one right now.”

“But he could be again,” she said, trudging beside me as we headed out to catch the shuttle to our dorm. “And if he does, he'll never overcome all that stuff about mixing with dhampirs. One of these days, he'll start dating a human again, and since we're here, I won't be able to do anything about it.”

“What exactly do you mean?” I asked cautiously.

She brightened a little. “Well, if we were back home, I could just keep challenging his new girlfriends to duels.”

“Well, let's just hope he stays single, then.”

I left her to her fantasies when we reached the dorm, each of us off to our own room. Zoe was waiting in mine, looking mournfully at a beat-up paperback. “Where have you been?” she asked. “Not at the airport the whole time?” She regarded me thoughtfully. “With Ms. Terwilliger?”

“Angeline, actually. I had to help her with a, um, problem in her biology class.”

“There you go again, doing things you don't need to.”

Angeline and Trey's plight had me thinking of my own, and I didn't have much patience for Zoe's Alchemist rhetoric. “I do need to do it. I need Angeline here at Amberwood, and that means making sure she stays in her teachers' good graces.” I sat down backward in my desk chair, resting my chin on its back. “You want to be an Alchemist so badly? Don't wait to react to the immediate problem. Plan ahead, look at the big picture, and you won't ever have to deal with that problem. Better to save yourself from a major catastrophe than drag your feet over a bunch of little inconveniences.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, looking hurt at my chastisement. “I get it. You don't have to lecture.”

“Sorry,” I said, feeling only slightly so. “You came here to learn. I'm just trying to help.”

She gave me a small smile. “I know. I'm here for professional reasons. It's just hard to forget sometimes that you're my sister. You're pretty good at it, though . . . treating me like I'm just another Alchemist. I'll have to try harder to be as good.”

I flinched. She meant it as a compliment, that I could put aside what was between us and wholeheartedly focus on Alchemist mandates. I didn't feel so proud of that, though. In fact, it made me distinctly uncomfortable, and I nodded toward her book. “What are you reading?”

That got her out of business mode, though it also brought a scowl. “I don't know. Some Shakespeare play for my English class. We have to pick one by tomorrow, and I thought this one would be good since it's so short.” She held it up.
Richard III
. “But I'm not really getting it.”

“Yikes,” I said.

“Bad play?” she guessed.

“Great play, but maybe not the best match for you. See if you can hunt down a copy of
A Midsummer Night's Dream
. Might be easier on you.” Thinking of my friends' romantic woes, I couldn't help a small, sad smile. “And you're practically living in the middle of it.” I laughed when she didn't get the reference. “I forget that wasn't part of Dad's standard curriculum. I did most of my literature research on my own.”

She nodded, and suddenly her eyes went wide. “Oh! I nearly forgot to tell you. He's coming here. Dad.”

I sat bolt upright in the chair. “When?”

“Next week.” I tried to relax, knowing my shock was a bit beyond ordinary surprise. I certainly couldn't let her know I was afraid. “He wants to talk to us about Mom and the hearing. They've set a date for next month.”

That was news to me, but then I shouldn't have been surprised at being out of the loop. After all, Zoe had proved a much more eager daughter than I had. It was only natural he'd tell her first.

“He's going to help prepare us,” she continued. “So that we can be ready to fight for him.”

“Ah,” I said.

Zoe flounced back on the bed and stared morosely at the ceiling. “I wish it were over already. No, I wish I was eighteen like you and could just be free.”

While I could think of many adjectives to describe myself, “free” wasn't usually one that came to mind.

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