Read The Golden Lily Online

Authors: Richelle Mead

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues, #Dating & Sex, #Friendship, #Fantasy & Magic

The Golden Lily (10 page)

BOOK: The Golden Lily
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“Sure,” I blurted out.

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Cool,” he said. “I’ll e-mail you.”

“That’d be great.” I smiled. More awkward silence fel, and suddenly, I wondered if the kiss might be coming after al.

“Do you … do you want me to walk you to the door?” he asked.

“What? Oh, no. Thank you. It’s right there. I’ll be fine. Thank you.” I realized I was on the verge of sounding like Jil.

“Wel, then,” said Brayden. “I had a realy nice night. Looking forward to next time.”

“Me too.”

He held out his hand. I shook it. Then I left the car and went inside.

He held out his hand. I shook it. Then I left the car and went inside.

I shook his hand? I replayed the moment in my head, feeling dumber and dumber. What is wrong with me?

As I walked through the lobby, kind of dazed, I took out my cell phone to see if I had any messages. I’d turned it off tonight, figuring if ever there was a time I’d earned peace, this was it. To my astonishment, no one had needed anything in my absence, though there was one text message from Jil, sent about fifteen minutes ago: How was your date with Brandon? What’s he like?

I unlocked my dorm door and stepped inside. His name is Brayden, I texted back. I pondered the rest of her question and took a long time in trying to decide how to respond.

He’s just like me.

Chapter 6

“YOU SHOOK HIS HAND?” Adrian asked incredulously.

I shot an accusing look at Eddie and Angeline. “Is nothing private around here?”

“No,” said Angeline, as bluntly honest as ever. Eddie actualy chuckled. It was a rare moment of camaraderie between them.

“Was it supposed to be a secret?” he asked. We were over at Clarence Donahue’s house for Jill and Adrian’s biweekly blood feedings. Jill was off right now with Clarence’s human housekeeper, Dorothy, who doubled as his feeder. I could take a lot of Moroi things in stride now, but drinking blood—human blood—made me shudder every time. My best coping mechanism was trying to forget why we were here.

“No,” I admitted. Julia and Kristin had griled me for date details a couple of days ago, so I’d given them some. I supposed I had to accept that once I told them anything, it would inevitably get back to everyone in the world. No doubt my Amberwood family had then passed it on to Adrian.

“Realy?” Adrian was still hung up on the end of my date. “His hand?”

I sighed and sank back into a sleek leather sofa. Clarence’s I sighed and sank back into a sleek leather sofa. Clarence’s house always reminded me of some stereotypical haunted manor from the outside—but inside it was modern and well furnished.

“Look, it just happened—okay, you know what? Never mind.

This is none of your business. Just let it go.” But something in Adrian’s expression told me he would not, in fact, be letting it go anytime soon.

“With all that red-hot passion, it’s a wonder you guys can stay away from each other,” said Adrian, deadpan. “Is there going to be a second date?” Eddie and Angeline looked at me expectantly. I hesitated.

This was information I hadn’t given up to Julia and Kristin, largely because it had only just been arranged. “Yes,” I said at last. “We’re going on a, um, windmil tour later this week.” If I’d wanted to shut them all up, I’d definitely succeeded.

They all looked stunned.

Adrian spoke first. “I’m going to assume that means he’s flying you to Amsterdam on his private jet. If so, I’d like to come along. But not for the windmils.”

“There’s a huge windmil farm north of Palm Springs,” I explained. “It’s one of the only ones in the world that does public tours.” More blank looks.

“Wind energy is a powerful renewable resource that could have a huge impact on our country’s future!” I said in exasperation. “This is a cool thing.”

“‘Cool,’” said Adrian. “‘Wind.’ I see what you did there, Sage. Pretty clever.”

Sage. Pretty clever.”

“It wasn’t meant to be a—”

The sitting room’s stained glass French doors opened, and Dimitri and Sonya entered with our host Clarence in tow. I hadn’t seen him since I arrived and gave him a polite smile, glad for the distraction from my so-caled love life.

“Helo, Mr. Donahue,” I said. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Eh?” The elderly Moroi man squinted in my direction, and after a few moments, recognition lit his features. He had white hair and always dressed as though he were at a formal dinner party from about fifty years ago. “There you are. Glad you could stop by, my dear. What brings you over?”

“Jil’s feeding, sir.” We did this two times every week, but Clarence’s mind wasn’t quite what it used to be. He’d been pretty scattered since we first met, but the death of his son, Lee, had seemed to push the old man even farther over the edge—

particularly since he didn’t seem to believe it. We’d told him gently—a number of times—that Lee had died, leaving out the Strigoi part. Each time we did, Clarence insisted Lee was just

“away right now” and would be back. Scattered or not, Clarence was always kind and relatively harmless—for a vampire, of course.

“Ah, yes, naturaly.” He settled into his massive armchair and then glanced back toward Dimitri and Sonya. “So you’ll be able to fix the window locks?” There had apparently been some other discussion going on before they joined us.

Dimitri seemed to be trying to find a nice way to respond. He was as amazing to look at as ever, dressed in jeans and a Twas as amazing to look at as ever, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, with a long leather duster over it al. How anyone could survive wearing a coat like that in Palm Springs was beyond me, but if anyone could, I supposed it was him. Usualy he only wore it inside, but sometimes, I’d see it outside too. I’d mentioned this odd wardrobe choice to Adrian a couple of weeks ago: “Isn’t Dimitri hot?” Adrian’s response hadn’t been entirely unexpected:

“Wel, yeah, according to most women, at least.” Dimitri’s face was the picture of politeness as he addressed Clarence’s concerns. “I don’t believe there’s anything

“Wel, yeah, according to most women, at least.” Dimitri’s face was the picture of politeness as he addressed Clarence’s concerns. “I don’t believe there’s anything wrong with the ones you have,” Dimitri said. “Everything is sealed up pretty tightly.”

“So it seems,” said Clarence ominously. “But you don’t know how resourceful they are. I’m not behind the times, you know. I know there are all sorts of technologies out there that you can put in. Like lasers that tell you if someone’s breaking in.” Dimitri arched an eyebrow. “You mean a security system?”

“Yes, exactly,” said Clarence. “That’ll keep the hunters out.” This turn in conversation wasn’t exactly a surprise to me.

Clarence’s paranoia had also increased recently—and that was saying something. He lived in constant fear of what he claimed were vampire hunters, humans who

… wel, hunted vampires.

For the longest time, he’d claimed they were responsible for his niece’s death and that reports of her being kiled by a Strigoi were incorrect. It turned out he was half-right. Her death hadn’t been the result of a Strigoi attack—it had been caused by Lee, in a desperate attempt to change back from a Moroi to a Strigoi.

a desperate attempt to change back from a Moroi to a Strigoi.

Clarence refused to accept that, however, and persisted in his beliefs about the hunters. My assurances that the Alchemists had no records of any groups like that existing since the Middle Ages hadn’t gone very far. Consequently, Clarence was always making people do “security checks” of his house. Since Sonya and Dimitri were actualy staying with him throughout the experimentation, that tedious task often fell to them.

“I’m not realy qualified to instal a security system,” said Dimitri.

“Realy? There’s something you can’t do?” Adrian’s voice was so soft that I could barely hear him, and he was sitting right next to me. I doubted even the others, with their superior hearing, could’ve made out his words. Why does he still let Dimitri get to him? I wondered.

“You’d have to call professionals,” Dimitri continued to Clarence. “I’m guessing you wouldn’t want a bunch of strangers coming in and out of your house.” Clarence frowned. “That’s true. It’d be very easy for the hunters to infiltrate them.” Dimitri was the picture of patience. “I’ll do daily checks of all the doors and windows while I’m here—just to be sure.”

“That would be wonderful,” said Clarence, some of his tension easing. “Admittedly, I’m not realy the hunters’ usual type. Not dangerous enough. Not anymore.” He chuckled to himself. “still. You never know what could happen. Best to be safe.”

Sonya gave him a gentle smile. “I’m sure everything will be Sonya gave him a gentle smile. “I’m sure everything will be fine. You have nothing to worry about.” Clarence met her eyes, and after a few seconds, a smile slowly spread over his face as wel. His rigid posture slackened.

“Yes, yes. You’re right. Nothing to worry about.” I shivered. I’d been around Moroi enough to know what had happened. Sonya had just used compulsion—only a whisper of it

—to calm Clarence. Compulsion, the ability to force your will on others, was a skil all Moroi possessed to varying degrees. Spirit users were the strongest, rivaling Strigoi. Using compulsion on others was taboo among the Moroi, and there were serious consequences for those who abused it.

I was guessing Moroi authorities would overlook her soothing a nervous old man, but the small act still unsettled me.

Compulsion in particular had always struck me as one of the most insidious Moroi powers. And had Sonya really needed to use it? She was already so kind and soothing. Wouldn’t that be enough for Clarence? Sometimes I wondered if they just used magic for the sake of doing so. Sometimes I wondered if it was being used around me … without me even knowing.

Clarence’s talk of vampire hunters always triggered a mix of amusement and unease around everyone. With him pacified (even if I didn’t like the means), we were all able to relax a little bit. Sonya leaned back against the loveseat, drinking some fruity drink that looked perfect on a hot day like this. From her dirty clothes and haphazard hairstyling, I was wiling to bet she’d been outside—not that she still didn’t look beautiful. Most Moroi avoided this kind of intense sun, but her love of plants was so avoided this kind of intense sun, but her love of plants was so great that she’d been risking it to work on some of the ailing flowers in Clarence’s garden. Heavy sunscreen could work wonders.

“I’m not going to be around much longer,” she told us. “A few more weeks at most. I need to go back and work on some wedding plans with Mikhail.”

“When’s the big day again?” Adrian asked.

She smiled. “It’s in December.” That surprised me until she added, “There’s a huge, tropical greenhouse near the Court that we’re going to use. It’s gorgeous—not that it matters. Mikhail and I could be married anywhere. All that counts is that we’re together. Of course, if we’re able to choose, then why not go all out?” Even I smiled at that. Leave it to Sonya to find a spot of green in the middle of a Pennsylvania winter.

“Dimitri may stay on,” she continued. “But it’d be great if we could make some kind of progress before I go. The aura tests so far have been …”

“Useless?” suggested Adrian.

“I was going to say inconclusive,” she replied.

Adrian shook his head. “So all that time we spent was wasted?”

Sonya didn’t answer and instead took another sip of her drink. I was wiling to bet it was non-alcoholic—she didn’t self-medicate the way Adrian did—and that Dorothy could make me one if I wanted. Yet, I was also wiling to bet it was terrible for one if I wanted. Yet, I was also wiling to bet it was terrible for me. Maybe Dorothy could make me one if I wanted. Yet, I was also wiling to bet it was terrible for one if I wanted. Yet, I was also wiling to bet it was terrible for me. Maybe I’d see if there was any Diet Coke in the kitchen.

Sonya leaned forward, an eager glint in her eye. “Dimitri and I were talking and realized there’s something obvious we’ve been missing. Actualy, I should say avoiding, but not pursuing it would be a waste.”

“What’s that?” asked Adrian.

“Blood,” said Dimitri.

I winced. I didn’t like it when this topic came up. It reminded me of exactly what kind of people I was with.

“Obviously, there’s something about restored Strigoi that protects them—us,” he said. “We’ve looked for magical signs, but the answer might be more physical.

And from the report I read, the Strigoi had trouble drinking ll—his blood.” Dimitri had been about to say Lee, but had amended his choice out of respect for Clarence. The old man’s dazed, happy look made it hard to tell if he understood what we were discussing at al.

“They complained about it,” I agreed. “But that didn’t seem to stop them from drinking it.” Strigoi could be forcibly created if a Strigoi drained a victim’s blood and then fed Strigoi blood back to him or her. Lee had asked Strigoi to do this for him, but all draining him had achieved was death.

“We’d like to take a sample of Dimitri’s blood and then compare it to yours, Eddie,” said Sonya. “Blood can hold all sorts of magical properties, which might show us how to fight Strigoi.”

I kept my face as blank as possible, praying no one would notice me. Blood can hold all sorts of magical properties.

notice me. Blood can hold all sorts of magical properties.

Hopefuly, in all this talk, no one would recall the mystery of why my blood was inexplicably revolting to Strigoi. And realy, why should they? I’d never been restored. I wasn’t a dhampir. There was no reason at all they’d want me in these experiments. And yet, if that was true, why was I suddenly sweating?

“We can send it to a lab for the chemical part and try to read any magical properties off it too,” Sonya continued. She sounded apologetic, but Eddie didn’t look concerned.

“No problem,” he said. “Whatever you need.” He meant it too, I knew. Losing blood was a milion times easier for him than being inactive. Besides, he probably lost more blood in daily practice than he’d even need to give up for this experiment.

“If you need another dhampir,” said Angeline. “You can use me too. Me and Eddie could help you. We’d be a team. Sydney wouldn’t have to keep coming along, especialy now that she’s got a boyfriend.”

There were so many things wrong with that, I didn’t know where to start. The confidence Eddie had shown over giving blood vanished at “we’d be a team.”

“We’ll consider it,” said Sonya. There was a sparkle in her eye, and I remembered her saying she could see affection in auras. Could she detect Angeline’s crush?

“For now, I’d rather not take you away from your schoolwork. It’s less important for Eddie since he’s already graduated, but you should keep up with it.” Angeline looked unhappy about that. She’d had a number of difficulties with her classes, not to mention some outright embarrassments—like when she’d been asked to create a map embarrassments—like when she’d been asked to create a map of Central America and had shown up with one of Nebraska and Kansas. She put on a cocky face, but I knew Amberwood overwhelmed her sometimes.

Jill joined us, looking bright and refreshed. Idealy, Moroi drank blood every day. They could survive on this twice-a-week schedule, but I’d noticed that Jill grew tired and run-down the farther she got from feedings.

“Your turn, Adrian,” she said.

He was yawning and looked startled at being noticed. I don’t think he’d realy been interested in Sonya’s blood experiments.

BOOK: The Golden Lily
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