The Indigo Spell (3 page)

“So,” I said at last, staring at my hands. “How’s, uh, your car?”

“I left it out on the street. Figured it’ll be fine there while I’m gone.”

I jerked my head up, jaw dropping. “You did
what
? They’ll tow it if it’s left there overnight!”

Adrian was laughing before I even finished. “So that’s what it takes to get a passionate
reaction, huh?” He shook his head. “Don’t worry, Sage. I was just kidding. It’s tucked
away safely in my building’s parking lot.”

I felt my cheeks burn. I hated that I’d fallen into his joke and was even a little
embarrassed that I’d just flipped out over a car. Admittedly, it wasn’t just any car.
It was a beautiful, classic Mustang that Adrian had recently purchased. In fact, he’d
bought it to impress me, pretending he couldn’t drive manual transmission in order
to spend more time with me while I taught him. I thought the car was amazing, but
it still astonished me that he would have gone to that much trouble for us to be together.

We reached our cruising altitude, and the flight attendant returned to get Adrian
another drink. “Anything for you, miss?” she asked.

“Diet Coke,” I said automatically.

Adrian tsked once she was gone. “You could’ve gotten that for free back in coach.”

I rolled my eyes. “Do I have to spend the next five hours being harassed? If so, I’ll
go back in coach and let some lucky person ‘upgrade’ to my seat.”

Adrian held up his hands in a placating gesture. “No, no. Carry on. I’ll entertain
myself.”

Entertaining himself turned out to be doing a crossword puzzle in one of the in-flight
magazines. I took out Ms. Terwilliger’s book and tried to read, but it was hard to
focus with him beside me. I kept sneaking glances out of the corner of my eye, partly
to see if he was looking at me and partly just to study his features. He was the same
Adrian as ever, annoyingly good looking with his tousled brown hair and sculpted face.
I vowed I wouldn’t speak to him, but when I noticed he hadn’t written anything in
a while and was tapping his pen loudly on the tray, I couldn’t help myself.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Seven-letter word for ‘cotton gin pioneer.’”

“
Whitney,
” I replied.

He leaned over and wrote in the letters. “‘Dominates the Mohs’ scale.’ Also seven
letters.”

“
Diamond.
”

Five words later, I realized what was happening. “Hey,” I told him. “I am
not
doing this.”

He looked up at me with angelic eyes. “Doing what?”

“You know what. You’re luring me in. You know I can’t resist—”

“Me?” he suggested.

I pointed at the magazine. “Random trivia.” I angled my body away from him and made
a big show of opening my book. “I have work to do.”

I felt Adrian look over my shoulder, and I tried to ignore how aware of his proximity
I was. “Looks like Jackie’s still got you working hard in her class.” Adrian had met
Ms. Terwilliger recently and had somehow charmed his way into a first-name basis.

“This one’s more like an extracurricular activity,” I explained.

“Really? I thought you were pretty against doing any more with this stuff than you
had to.”

I shut the book in frustration. “I am! But then she said—” I bit off the words, reminding
myself that I shouldn’t engage with Adrian any more than I had to. It was just too
easy to slip back into old, friendly behaviors with him. It felt right when, obviously,
it was wrong.

“Then what?” he prompted, voice gentle.

I looked up at him and saw no smugness or mockery. I didn’t even see any of the burning
hurt that had plagued me these last few weeks. He actually looked concerned, which
momentarily distracted me from Ms. Terwilliger’s task. Seeing him this way contrasted
drastically with what had followed in the wake of our kiss. I’d been so nervous at
the thought of sitting with him on this flight, and yet, here he was, ready to support
me. Why the change?

I hesitated, unsure what to do. Since last night, I’d been turning her words and the
vision over and over in my head, trying to figure out what they meant. Adrian was
the only person who knew about my involvement with her and magic (aside from Jill),
and until this moment, I hadn’t realized how badly I was dying to discuss this with
someone. So, I cracked and told him the whole story of my desert adventure.

When I finished, I was surprised to see how dark his expression had become. “It’s
one thing for her to try to get you to learn spells here and there. But it’s a totally
different thing for her to drag you into something dangerous.”

His ardent concern surprised me a little—but maybe it shouldn’t have. “From the way
she talked, though, it wasn’t like it was her doing. She seemed pretty upset about . . .
well, whatever all this means.”

Adrian pointed at the book. “And that’ll help somehow?”

“I guess.” I ran my fingers over the cover and embossed Latin words. “It has protection
and attack spells—things that are a bit more hard core than what I’ve ever done. I
don’t like it, and these aren’t even the really advanced ones. She told me to skip
those.”

“You don’t like magic, period,” he reminded me. “But if these can keep you safe, then
maybe you shouldn’t ignore them.”

I hated admitting when he was right. It only encouraged him. “Yeah, but I just wish
I knew what I was trying to stay safe from—no. No. We can’t do this.”

Without even realizing it, I’d slipped into the way things used to be, talking to
Adrian in that easy, comfortable way we had. In fact, I’d even been confiding in him.
He looked startled.

“Do what? I stopped asking you for crossword help, didn’t I?”

I took a deep breath, bracing myself. I’d known this moment was coming, no matter
how much I wanted to put it off. I just hadn’t expected it to come while on a plane
ride.

“Adrian, we have to talk about what happened. Between you and me,” I declared.

He took a moment to consider my words. “Well . . . last I knew,
nothing
was happening between you and me.”

I dared a look at him. “Exactly. I’m sorry for what happened . . . what I said, but
it was all true. We have to move past this and go on with our lives in a normal way.
It’s for the good of our group in Palm Springs.”

“Funny, I
have
moved past it,” he said. “
You’re
the one bringing it up.”

I blushed again. “But it’s because of you! You’ve spent the last few weeks all moody
and sulking, hardly ever talking to me. And when you do, there’s usually some nasty
barb in it.” While recently having dinner at Clarence Donahue’s, I’d seen one of the
most terrifying spiders ever come crawling into the living room. Mustering all my
courage, I’d caught the creepy little beast and set him free. Adrian’s comment on
my brave act had been, “Wow, I didn’t know you actually faced down things that scared
you. I thought your normal response was to run kicking and screaming from them and
pretend they don’t exist.”

“You’re right about the attitude,” he said now, nodding along with my words. Once
again, he looked remarkably serious. “And I’m sorry.”

“You . . . are?” I could only stare. “So . . . you’re done with all of that . . .
stuff? Done with, uh, feeling that way?” I couldn’t bring myself to elaborate.
Done with being in love with me.

“Oh, no,” he said cheerfully. “Not at all.”

“But you just said—”

“I’m done with the pouting,” he said. “Done with being moody—well, I mean, I’m always
a little moody. That’s what Adrian Ivashkov’s all about. But I’m done with the excessive
stuff. That didn’t get me anywhere with Rose. It won’t get me anywhere with you.”

“
Nothing
will get you anywhere with me,” I exclaimed.

“I don’t know about that.” He put on an introspective look that was both unexpected
and intriguing. “You’re not as much of a lost cause as she was. I mean, with her,
I had to overcome her deep, epic love with a Russian warlord. You and I just have
to overcome hundreds of years’ worth of deeply ingrained prejudice and taboo between
our two races. Easy.”

“Adrian!” I felt my temper beginning to flare. “This isn’t a joke.”

“I know. It’s certainly not to me. And that’s why I’m not going to give you a hard
time.” He paused dramatically. “I’ll just love you whether you want me to or not.”

The attendant came by with hot towels, putting our conversation on hold and allowing
his slightly disturbing words to hang in the air between us. I was dumbfounded and
couldn’t muster a response until after she came back to collect the cloths.

“Whether I want you to or not? What on earth does that mean?”

Adrian grimaced. “Sorry. That came off creepier than I intended. I just mean, I don’t
care if you say we can’t be together. I don’t care if you think I’m the most evil,
unnatural creature walking the earth.”

For the briefest of moments, his choice of words threw me back in time, to when he’d
told me I was the most beautiful creature walking the earth. Those words haunted me
now, just as they had then. We’d been sitting in a dark, candlelit room, and he’d
looked at me in a way that no one ever had—

Stop it, Sydney. Focus.

“You can think whatever you want, do whatever you want,” Adrian continued, unaware
of my traitorous thoughts. There was a remarkable calm about him. “I’m going to just
go on loving you, even if it’s hopeless.”

I don’t know why that shocked me as much as it did. I glanced around to make sure
no one was listening. “I . . . what? No. You can’t!”

He tilted his head to the side as he regarded me carefully. “Why? It doesn’t hurt
you or anything. I told you I won’t bother you if you don’t want me to. And if you
do, well, I’m all about that. So what’s it matter if I just love you from afar?”

I didn’t entirely know. “Because . . . because you can’t!”

“Why not?”

“You . . . you need to move on,” I managed. Yes, that was a sound reason. “You need
to find someone else. You know I don’t—that I can’t. Well, you know. You’re wasting
your time with me.”

He remained firm. “It’s my time to waste.”

“But it’s crazy! Why would you do that?”

“Because I can’t help doing it,” he said with a shrug. “And hey, if I keep loving
you, maybe you’ll eventually crack and love me too. Hell, I’m pretty sure you’re already
half in love with me.”

“I am not! And everything you just said is ridiculous. That’s terrible logic.”

Adrian returned to his crossword puzzle. “Well, you can think what you want, so long
as you remember—no matter how ordinary things seem between us—I’m still here, still
in love with you, and care about you more than any other guy, evil or otherwise, ever
will.”

“I don’t think you’re evil.”

“See? Things are already looking promising.” He tapped the magazine with his pen again.
“‘Romantic Victorian poetess.’ Eight letters.”

I didn’t answer. I had been rendered speechless. Adrian never mentioned that dangerous
topic again for the rest of the flight. Most of the time, he kept to himself, and
when he did speak, it was about perfectly safe topics, like our dinner and the upcoming
wedding. Anyone sitting with us would never have known there was anything weird between
us.

But
I
knew.

That knowledge ate me up. It was all-consuming. And as the flight progressed, and
eventually landed, I could no longer look at Adrian the same way. Each time we made
eye contact, I just kept thinking of his words:
I’m still here, still in love with you, and care about you more than any other guy
ever will.
Part of me felt offended. How dare he? How dare he love me whether I wanted him to
or not? I had told him not to! He had no right to.

And the rest of me? The rest of me was scared.

If I keep loving you, maybe you’ll eventually crack and love me too.

It was ludicrous. You couldn’t make someone love you just by loving them. It didn’t
matter how charming he was, how good looking, or how funny. An Alchemist and a Moroi
could never be together. It was impossible.

I’m pretty sure you’re already half in love with me.

Very
impossible.

TRUE TO HIS WORD,
Adrian made no other mention of the relationship—or lack thereof—between us. Every
once in a while, though, I could swear I saw something in his eyes, something that
brought back an echo of his proclamation about continuing to love me. Or maybe it
was just his typical impertinence.

A connecting flight and an hour-long car ride later, it was night by the time we finally
reached the small resort town in the Pocono Mountains. Getting out of the car was
a shock. December in Pennsylvania was very, very different from December in Palm Springs.
Crisp, frigid air hit me, the kind that freezes your mouth and nose. A layer of fresh
snow covered everything, glittering in the light of the same full moon that Ms. Terwilliger
and I had worked magic by. The stars were out here in just as much force as the stark
desert, though the cold air made them glitter in a sharper way.

Adrian stayed in our hired car but leaned out as the driver handed me my small suitcase.
“Need any help with that?” Adrian asked. His breath made a frosty cloud in the air.

It was an uncharacteristic offer from him. “I’ll be fine. Thanks, though. I take it
you aren’t staying here?” I nodded toward the bed-and-breakfast the car had stopped
at.

Adrian pointed down the road, toward a large, lit-up hotel perched on a hill. “Up
there. That’s where all the parties will be, if you’re interested. They’re probably
just getting started.”

I shivered, and it had nothing to do with the cold. Moroi normally ran on a nocturnal
schedule, starting their days around sunset. Those living among humans—like Adrian—had
to adapt to a daytime schedule. But here, in a small town that must be bursting with
Moroi guests, he’d have the chance to return to what was for him a more natural schedule.

“Noted,” I said. A moment of awkwardness followed, but the temperature gave me an
excuse for escape. “Well. I’d better get in where it’s warm. Nice, uh, traveling with
you.”

He smiled. “You too, Sage. See you tomorrow.”

The car door closed, and I suddenly felt lonely without him. They drove off toward
the towering hotel. My bed-and-breakfast seemed tiny by comparison, but it was cute
and in good shape. The Alchemists had booked me here precisely because they knew the
Moroi guests would have other accommodations. Well, most of them.

“Are you here for the wedding, dear?” asked the innkeeper as she checked me in. “We
have some other guests staying with us as well.”

I nodded as I signed my credit card slip. It was no surprise that there’d be overflow
to this inn, but there’d be a lot less here than the other hotel. I’d make sure to
lock my door. I trusted my friends in Palm Springs, but all other Moroi and dhampirs
were questionable.

Towns like this, and the inns within them, always seemed intended for couples on romantic
getaways. My room was no exception. It had a California-king-size bed draped in a
gauzy canopy, along with a heart-shaped Jacuzzi by the fireplace. It screamed love
and romance, which brought Adrian back to my mind. I ignored it all as best I could
and jotted out a quick text to Donna Stanton, a higher-ranking Alchemist who oversaw
my assignment in Palm Springs.

Arrived in Pocono Hollow. Checked into inn.

Her response came quickly:
Excellent. See you tomorrow.
A second text followed a moment later:
Lock your door.

Stanton and one other Alchemist were invited to the wedding as well. But they were
already on the East Coast and could simply travel here tomorrow. I envied them.

Despite my uneasiness, I slept surprisingly well and dared to emerge for breakfast
in the morning. I had no need to worry about Moroi, though. I was the only person
eating in the sun-drenched dining room.

“How strange,” remarked the innkeeper as she delivered my coffee and eggs. “I know
many of the guests were out late, but I thought at least a few might be here to eat.”
Then, to emphasize the oddness of it all, she added, “After all, breakfast is complimentary.”

The nocturnal Moroi, who were all still in bed, emboldened me to explore the town
a little that day. Even though I’d prepared with boots and a heavy coat, the weather
change was still a bit shocking. Palm Springs had made me soft. I soon called it an
early day and spent the rest of the afternoon reading Ms. Terwilliger’s book by the
fire. I flew through the first section and even went on to the advanced one she’d
told me to skip. Maybe it was the fact that it was forbidden, but I couldn’t stop
reading. The scope of what the book described was so gripping and consuming that I
nearly jumped a foot in the air when I heard a knock at the door. I froze, wondering
if some confused Moroi had mistaken my room for a friend’s. Or, worse, for a feeder’s.

My phone suddenly chimed with a text message from Stanton:
We’re at your door.

Sure enough, when I opened it, I found Stanton standing there—with Ian Jansen, an
Alchemist the same age as me. His presence was a surprise. I hadn’t seen Ian since
he, Stanton, and I had been detained by Moroi for questioning in the escape of a dhampir
fugitive. Back then, Ian had had an unwelcome crush on me. Judging from the dopey
smile on his face when he saw me, things hadn’t changed. I gestured them inside, making
sure to lock the door when I closed it. Like me, both Alchemists had golden lily tattoos
on their left cheeks. It was the sign of our order, tattoos infused with vampire blood
that gave us quick healing and were magically designed to stop us from discussing
Alchemist affairs with those who didn’t know about them.

Stanton arched an eyebrow at the heart-shaped tub and then settled into a chair by
the fire. “No trouble getting here?”

Aside from traveling with a good-looking vampire who thinks he’s in love with me?

“None,” I replied. I regarded Ian with a frown. “I didn’t expect you to be here. I
mean, I’m glad you are, but after last time . . .” I paused as something hit me. I
looked around. “It’s all of us. All of us that were, uh, under house arrest.”

Stanton nodded. “It was decided that if we’re going to foster good relations between
our groups, the Moroi would start by making amends to the three of us specifically.”

Ian scowled and crossed his arms, leaning against a wall. He had brown eyes, with
matching brown hair that he wore in a neat haircut. “I don’t want any ‘amends’ from
those monsters after what they did to us this summer. I can’t even believe we’re here!
This place is crawling with them. Who knows what’ll happen if one of them drinks too
much champagne tonight and goes looking for a snack? Here we are, fresh humans.”

I wanted to tell him that was ridiculous, but by Alchemist reasoning, it was a very
legitimate concern. And, reminding myself that I didn’t know most of the Moroi here,
I realized perhaps his fears weren’t that unfounded.

“I guess we’ll have to stick together,” I said. That was the wrong word choice, judging
from Ian’s happy smile.

The Alchemists rarely had social time, and this was no exception. Stanton soon got
us down to business, going over our plans for the wedding and what our purpose was
here. A file folder provided background on Sonya and Mikhail, as though I knew nothing
about them. My mission and history with Sonya were secret from other Alchemists, so,
for Ian’s sake, I had to nod along with everything as if it was as new to me as it
was to him.

“Festivities will probably last until almost sunrise,” said Stanton, gathering up
her papers once she’d finished the briefing. “Ian and I will be departing then and
will drop you off at the airport on our way out. You won’t have to spend another night
here.”

Ian’s face grew darkly protective. “You shouldn’t have stayed here alone last night.
You should have had someone to look after you.”

“I can look after myself,” I snapped, a bit more harshly than I intended. Whether
I liked it or not, Ms. Terwilliger’s training had empowered me—literally and figuratively.
That, and recent self-defense classes had taught me how to watch out for myself and
my surroundings. Maybe Ian meant well, but I didn’t like the idea of him—or anyone—thinking
I needed coddling.

“Miss Sage is quite well as you can see,” said Stanton dryly. Ian’s crush had to be
obvious to her, and it was equally obvious to me she had no use for such frivolity.
Her gaze drifted to the window, which was glowing orange and red with the setting
sun. “Well, then. It’s nearly time. Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

They had arrived in their dress clothes, but I still needed to prepare. They talked
together while I got ready in the bathroom, but each time I emerged—to get a hairbrush
or earrings or something else—I’d see Ian watching me with that sappy look. Great.
This was not what I needed.

The wedding was being held in the town’s claim to fame: a huge, indoor garden that
defied the wintry conditions outside. Sonya was a huge lover of plants and flowers,
and this was pretty much her dream location for a wedding. The glass walls that composed
the building were steamed from the drastic difference between inner and outer temperatures.
The three of us stepped inside, into an entry area that was used to sell tickets during
the greenhouse’s normal operating hours. Here, at last, we found the Moroi that had
been hidden to me in daylight.

There were about two dozen of them milling around in this entryway, dressed in rich
clothing and eerily beautiful with their slim, pale features. Some were ushers and
other attendants, helping organize the event and guide guests into the atrium farther
into the building. Most Moroi were simply ordinary guests stopping to sign the guest
book or chat with friends and family they hadn’t seen in a long time. Around the sides,
dhampirs in neat black and white suits stood sentry, watchful for any sign of danger.
Their presence reminded me of a far, far greater threat than some drunken Moroi mistaking
us for feeders.

Holding the event at night meant exposing us to attack by Strigoi. Strigoi were a
very different type of vampire—so different, in fact, that I almost felt foolish being
unnerved in this group. Strigoi were undead, made immortal by killing their victims,
unlike the Moroi, who simply drank enough blood from human volunteers to sustain themselves.
Strigoi were vicious, fast, and strong—and only came out at night. The sunlight that
Moroi found simply uncomfortable was lethal to Strigoi. Strigoi made most of their
kills on unwitting humans, but Moroi and dhampirs were their preferred food. An event
like this—Moroi and dhampirs crammed into a small space—was practically like offering
up a Strigoi buffet.

Eyeing the guardian dhampirs, however, I knew any Strigoi would have a difficult task
breaking into this event. Guardians trained hard their entire lives, honing skills
to fight Strigoi. Seeing as the Moroi queen was attending this event, I suspected
the security I’d seen so far didn’t even begin to scratch the surface.

A number of those gathered here stopped talking when they saw us. Not all Moroi knew
about Alchemists or how we worked with their people. So, the attendance of three non-feeder
humans was a bit of an oddity. Even those who knew about Alchemists were probably
surprised to see us, given the formality of our relationship. Stanton was too experienced
to let her unease show, but Ian openly made the Alchemist sign against evil as Moroi
and dhampir eyes studied us. I did a pretty good job of keeping my cool but wished
there was at least one familiar face in this crowd.

“Miss Stanton?”

A round-cheeked Moroi hurried forward. “I’m Colleen, the wedding coordinator. We spoke
on the phone?” She extended a hand, and even tough Stanton hesitated before shaking
it.

“Yes, of course,” said Stanton, voice cool and proper. “Thank you for inviting us.”
She introduced Ian and me.

Colleen waved us toward the atrium’s entry. “Come, come. We have your seats reserved.
I’ll take you there myself.”

She swept us past the curious onlookers. As we entered the atrium, I stopped and momentarily
forgot the vampires around us. The main greenhouse was magnificent. The ceiling was
high and vaulted, made of that same steamed glass. A central area had been cleared
and set with seats draped in flowers, very much like what you’d see at a human wedding.
A dais at the front of the seating area was covered in more flowers and was obviously
where the couple would take their vows.

But it was the rest of the room that took my breath away. It was like we’d stepped
into some tropical jungle. Trees and other plants heavy with brightly colored flowers
lined the sides, filling the humid air with a perfume that was almost dizzying. Since
there was no sunlight to light up the greenhouse, torches and candles had been cleverly
placed throughout the greenery, casting a mysterious—yet still romantic—light on everything.
I felt as though I’d stepped into some secret Amazonian ritual space. And of course,
nearly hidden among the trees and bushes, black-clad guardians paced and kept watch
on everything.

Colleen led us to three seats on the right side of the seating area, marked with a
RESERVED
sign. They were about halfway back—not as esteemed a spot as family would get, of
course, but enough to show that the Moroi thought highly of us and really were trying
to undo the strained relationship caused by our detainment.

“Can I get you anything?” Colleen asked. I realized now her exuberant energy was partially
nervousness. We made her almost—but certainly not quite—as uneasy as she and the others
made us. “Anything at all?”

“We’re fine,” said Stanton, speaking for all of us. “Thank you.”

Colleen nodded eagerly. “Well, if you need anything—no matter how small—don’t hesitate
to ask. Simply grab one of the ushers, and they’ll find me immediately.” She stood
there a moment longer, wringing her hands. “I’d best check on the others. Remember—call
if you need anything.”