Authors: Richelle Mead
“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “The dress stays on.”
“Oh? Is that your decision to make?”
“Yes,” he said. “You’re not losing your virginity in a dream. If that’s even possible.
I don’t want to deal with the philosophical side of it. And besides, there’s no need
to rush anyway. Sometimes it’s worth lingering on the journey for a while before getting
to the destination.”
Metaphors. This was the cost of making out with an artist.
I nearly said as much. Then his hand slid up my bare leg, and I was lost again. Maybe
the dress was staying on, but he didn’t mind taking liberties with it. That hand slipped
under my dress, running along the side of my leg and up to my hip. I burned where
he touched me, and everything within me became focused on that hand. It was moving
far too slowly, and I grabbed it, ready to urge it on.
Adrian chuckled and caught hold of my wrist, pulling my hand away and pinning it down
against the covers. “Never thought I’d be the one slowing you down.”
I opened my eyes and met his. “I’m a quick study.”
All that burning and animal need within me must have shone through because he caught
his breath and lost the smile. He released my wrist and cupped my face in his hands,
bringing his face down only a whisper away from mine. “Good God, Sydney. You are—”
The passion in his eyes turned to surprise, and he suddenly looked up.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, wondering if this was some weird part of “the journey.”
He grimaced and began to fade away before my eyes. “You’re being woken up.”
CHAPTER 22
I OPENED MY EYES,
groggy from the sudden shock of being pulled out of the dream. My body felt sluggish,
and I squinted against the light. The lamp I’d left on last night was joined by sunlight
streaming in through the window, but my phone’s display still showed a freakishly
early hour. Someone knocked at my door, and I realized that was what had woken me
up. I ran a hand through my disheveled hair and rose unsteadily from the bed.
“If she needs a geography tutor now, I really am going to Mexico,” I muttered. But
when I opened the door, it wasn’t Angeline standing outside my door. It was Jill.
“Something big just happened,” she said, hurrying in.
“Not to me it didn’t.”
If she noticed my annoyance, she didn’t show it. In fact, as I studied her more closely,
I realized she probably had no idea (yet) about what had happened between Adrian and
me. From what I’d learned, spirit dreams weren’t shared through the bond unless the
shadow-kissed person was directly brought into it.
I sighed and sat down on my bed again, wishing I could go back to sleep. The heat
and excitement of the dream was fading, and mostly I felt tired now. “What’s wrong?”
“Angeline and Trey.”
I groaned. “Oh, lord. What’s she done to him now?”
Jill settled into my desk chair and put on a steely look of resolve. Whatever was
coming was bad. “She tried to get him to sneak into our dorm last night.”
“What?” I really did need more sleep because my brain was having trouble understanding
the reasoning behind that. “She’s not
that
dedicated to her math grade . . . is she?”
Jill gave me a wry look. “Sydney, they weren’t working on math.”
“Then why were they—oh. Oh no.” I fell backward onto the bed and stared up at the
ceiling. “No. This can’t be happening.”
“I already tried saying that to myself,” she told me. “It doesn’t help.”
I rolled over to my side so that I could look at her again. “Okay, assuming this is
true, how long has it been going on?”
“I don’t know.” Jill sounded as tired as me—and a lot more exasperated. “You know
how she is. I tried to get answers out of her, but she kept going on about how it
wasn’t her fault and how it just happened.”
“What’d Trey say?” I asked.
“I never got a chance to talk to him. He got hauled away as soon as they were caught.”
She smiled, but there wasn’t much humor in it. “On the bright side, he got in a lot
more trouble than she did, so we don’t have to worry about her getting expelled.”
Oh no. “Do we have to worry about
him
getting expelled?”
“I don’t think so. I heard about other people trying this, and they just get detention
for life. Or something.”
Small blessing. Angeline was in detention so much that they’d at least have bonding
time. “Well, then I guess there isn’t much to be done. I mean, the emotional fallout’s
going to be a mess, of course.”
“Well . . .” Jill shifted nervously. “That’s just it. You see, first Eddie needs to
be told—”
I shot up out of my bed. “I am
not
doing that.”
“Oh, of course not. No one would ever expect you to do that.” I wasn’t so sure but
let her continue. “Angeline’s going to. It’s the right thing to do.”
“Yes. . . .” I still wasn’t letting down my guard.
“But someone still needs to talk to Eddie afterward,” she explained. “It’s going to
be hard on him, you know? He shouldn’t be left alone. He needs a friend.”
“Aren’t you his friend?” I asked.
She flushed. “Well, yeah, of course. But I don’t know that it’d be right since . . .
well, you know how I feel about him. Better to have someone more reasonable and objective.
Besides, I don’t know if I’d do a good job or not.”
“Probably better than me.”
“You’re better at that stuff than you think. You’re able to make things clear and—”
Jill suddenly froze. Her eyes widened a little, and for a moment, it was like she
was watching something I couldn’t see. No, I realized a moment later. There was no
“like” about it. That was exactly what she was doing. She was having one of those
moments where she was in sync with Adrian’s mind. I saw her blink and slowly tune
back into my room. Her eyes focused on me, and she paled. Just like that, I knew that
she
knew
.
Rose had said that sometimes in the bond, you could sift through someone’s recent
memories even if you hadn’t actually been tuned into the bond at that moment. As Jill
looked at me, I could tell she’d seen it all, everything that had happened with Adrian
last night. It was hard to say which of us was more horrified. I replayed everything
I’d done and said, every compromising position I’d literally and figuratively put
myself in. Jill had just “seen” me do things no one else ever had—well, except for
Adrian, of course. And what had she actually felt? What it was like to kiss me? To
run her—his?—hands over my body?
It was a situation I had in no way prepared for. My occasional indiscretions with
Adrian had come through to Jill as well, but we’d all brushed those off—me in particular.
Last night, however, had taken things to a whole new level, one that left both Jill
and me stunned and speechless. I was mortified that she’d seen me so weak and exposed,
and the protective part of me was worried that she’d seen anything like that at all,
period.
She and I stared at each other, lost in our own thoughts, but Jill recovered first.
She turned even redder than when she’d mentioned Eddie and practically leapt out of
the chair. Turning her eyes away from mine, she hurried to the door. “Um, I should
go, Sydney. Sorry to bother you so early. It probably could’ve waited. Angeline’s
going to talk to Eddie this morning, so whenever you get a chance to find him, you
know, that’d be great.” She took a deep breath and opened the door, still refusing
to make eye contact. “I’ve gotta go. See you later. Sorry again.”
“Jill—”
She shut the door, and I sank back into the bed, unable to stand. It was official.
Whatever residual heat and lust I’d felt from being with Adrian last night had completely
vanished in the wake of Jill’s expression. Until that moment, I hadn’t really and
truly understood what it meant to be involved with someone who was bonded. Everything
Adrian said to me, she heard. Every emotion he had for me, she experienced. Every
time he kissed me, she felt it. . . .
I thought I might be sick. How had Rose and Lissa handled this? Somewhere in my addled
mind, I recalled Rose saying she’d learned to block out a lot of Lissa’s experiences—but
it had taken a few years to figure it out. Adrian and Jill had only been bonded for
a few months.
The shock of understanding what Jill had seen cast a shadow over everything that had
been sensual and thrilling last night. I felt like I had been on display. I felt cheap
and dirty, especially as I remembered my own role in instigating things. That sickening
feeling in my stomach increased, and there was no stopping the avalanche of thoughts
that soon followed.
I’d let myself spin out of control last night, carried away by desire. I shouldn’t
have done any of that—and not just because Adrian was a Moroi (though that was certainly
problematic too). My life was about reason and logic, and I’d thrown all of that out
the window. They were my strengths, and in casting them aside, I’d become weak. I’d
been high on the freedom and risks I’d experienced last night, not to mention intoxicated
by Adrian and how he’d said I was beautiful and brave and “ridiculously smart.” I’d
melted when he’d looked at me in that absurd dress. Knowing he’d wanted me had muddled
my thoughts, making me want him too. . . .
There was no part of this that was okay.
With great effort, I dragged myself from the bed and managed to pick out some clothes
for the day. I staggered to the shower like a zombie and stayed in for so long that
I missed breakfast. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t have eaten anything anyway, not with
all the emotions that were churning inside me. I barely spoke to anyone as I walked
through the halls, and it wasn’t until I sat down in Ms. Terwilliger’s class that
I finally remembered there were other people in the world with their own problems.
Specifically, Eddie and Trey.
I was certain there was no way they could be as traumatized as Jill and I were by
last night’s events. But it was obvious both guys had had a rough morning. Neither
one spoke or made eye contact with others. I think it was the first time I’d ever
seen Eddie neglect his surroundings. The bell cut me off before I had a chance to
say anything, and I spent the rest of class watching them with concern. They didn’t
look like they were going to engage in any testosterone-driven madness, so that was
a good sign. I felt bad for both of them—especially Eddie, who’d been wronged the
most—and worrying on their behalf helped distract me from my own woes. A little.
When class ended, I wanted to talk to Eddie first, but Ms. Terwilliger intercepted
me. She handed me a large yellow envelope that felt like it had a book inside. There
was no end to the spells I had to learn. “Some of the things we discussed,” she told
me. “Tend to them as soon as you get the chance.”
“I will, ma’am.” I slipped the envelope into my bag and glanced around for Eddie.
He was gone.
Trey was in my next class, and I took my usual seat beside him. He gave me a sidelong
look and then turned away.
“So,” I said.
He shook his head. “Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting anything.”
He stayed silent a few moments and then turned back to me, a frantic look in his eyes.
“I didn’t know, I swear. About her and Eddie. She never mentioned it, and obviously,
they don’t talk about it around here. I never would’ve done that to him. You have
to believe that.”
I did. No matter what Trey’s other faults were, he was good-hearted and honest. If
anyone was at fault for bad behavior here, it was Angeline.
“I’m actually more surprised that you’d get involved with someone like her, period.”
I didn’t need to elaborate that “someone like her” referred to her being a dhampir.
Trey put his head on his desk. “I know, I know. It all just happened so fast. One
day she’s throwing a book at me. The next, we’re making out behind the library.”
“Ugh. That’s a little more information than I needed.” Glancing up, I saw that our
chemistry teacher was still getting organized, giving Trey and me a little more time.
“What are you going to do now?”
“What do you think? I have to end it. I shouldn’t have let it get this far.”
The Sydney from three months ago would have said of course he needed to end it. This
one said, “Do you like her?”
“Yes, I—” He paused and then lowered his voice. “I think I love her. Is that nuts?
After only a few weeks?”
“No—I don’t know. I’m not really good at understanding that stuff.” And by not really
good, I actually meant terrible. “But if you feel like that . . . maybe . . . maybe
you shouldn’t throw it away.”
Trey’s eyes widened, and surprise completely replaced his blue mood. “Are you serious?
How can you say that? Especially you of all people. You know how it is. You’ve got
the same rules as us.”
I could hardly believe what I was saying. “Her people don’t, and they seem to be fine.”
For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of hope in his eyes, but then he shook his
head again. “I can’t, Sydney. You know I can’t. It would eventually end in disaster.
There’s a reason our kinds don’t mix. And if my family ever found out . . . God. I
can’t even imagine. There’d be no way I’d ever get back in.”
“Do you really want to?”
He didn’t answer that. Instead, he just told me, “It can’t work. It’s over.” I’d never
seen him look so miserable.
Class started, and that ended the discussion.
Eddie wasn’t in our cafeteria at lunch. Jill sat with Angeline at a corner table and
looked as though she was delivering a stern lecture. Maybe Jill hadn’t felt comfortable
consoling Eddie, but she certainly had no problem speaking out on his behalf. I didn’t
really want to hear Angeline’s excuses or meet Jill’s eyes, so I grabbed a sandwich
and ate outside. I didn’t have enough time to check Eddie’s cafeteria, so I sent him
a text.
Want to go out for coffee later?
Don’t feel sorry for me
, he responded. I hadn’t known if he’d answer at all, so that was something.
I just want to talk. Please.
His next text wasn’t nearly so fast, and I could almost imagine his mental battle.
Okay, but after dinner. I have a study group.
A moment later, he added,
Not Spencer’s.
Trey worked at Spencer’s.
Now that the Angeline drama was on hold, I was able to return to my own messed-up
love life. I couldn’t shake that image of Jill’s expression. I couldn’t forgive myself
for losing control. And now, I had Trey’s words bouncing around my head.
It would eventually end in disaster. There’s a reason our kinds don’t mix.
As though summoned by my thoughts, Adrian texted me.
You want to get the dragon today?
I’d forgotten all about the callistana. He’d stayed with Adrian during my St. Louis
trip, and now it was my turn. Since Adrian couldn’t transform him back into quartz,
the dragon had been in his true form all weekend.
Sure
, I wrote back.
My stomach was in knots when I drove to Adrian’s place later. I’d had the rest of
the day to think about my options, and I’d finally reached an extreme one.
When he opened the door, his face was aglow—until he saw mine. His expression transformed
to equal parts exasperation and sadness. “Oh no. Here it comes,” he said.
I stepped inside. “Here what comes?”
“The part where you tell me last night was a mistake and that we can’t ever do it
again.”
I looked away. That was exactly what I’d been going to say. “Adrian, you know this
can’t work.”