Home > The Indigo Spell (Bloodlines #3)(50)

The Indigo Spell (Bloodlines #3)(50)
Author: Richelle Mead

No, I'm still the same person at heart. I had to be . . . because if I wasn't, then who was I?

Adrian smiled at me sympathetically. "I think it's been a culmination of things. Your curious nature. Your need to do the right thing. It's all led you to this point. I know the Alchemists have taught you to think a certain way, but what you're doing now - it's not wrong."

I raked my hand through my hair. "And yet, despite all of that, I can't bring myself to have one tiny conversation with Ms. Terwilliger's coven."

"You have boundaries." He gently smoothed one of my wayward locks. "Nothing wrong with that."

"Marcus would say it's the tattoo holding me back."

Adrian dropped his hand. "Marcus says a lot of things."

"I don't think Marcus is trying to deceive me. He believes in his cause, and I'm still worried about mind control . . . but honestly, it's hard to believe I'm being held back when I'm out here doing stuff like this." I gestured outside, to where Ms. Terwilliger was. "Alchemist dogma says this magic is unnatural and wrong."

Adrian's smile returned. "If it makes you feel better, you actually looked natural out there - back in the park."

"Doing . . . what? Throwing fireballs?" I shook my head. "There's nothing natural about that."

"You wouldn't think so, but . . . well. You were . . . amazing, throwing that fire like some kind of ancient warrior goddess."

Annoyed, I turned away. "Stop making fun of me."

He caught my arm and pulled me back toward him. "I am absolutely serious."

I swallowed, speechless for a moment. All I was aware of was how close we were, that he was holding me to him with only a few inches between us. Almost as close as at the sorority. "I'm not a warrior or a goddess," I managed at last.

Adrian leaned closer. "As far as I'm concerned, you're both."

I knew that look in his eyes. I knew because I'd seen it before. I expected him to kiss me, but instead, he ran his finger along the side of my neck. "There it is, huh? Badge of honor."

It took me a moment to realize he was talking about the hickey It had faded but wasn't entirely gone. I pulled away. "It is not! It was a mistake. You were out of line doing that to me."

His eyebrows rose. "Sage, I distinctly remember every part of that night. You didn't seem that unwilling. You were practically on top of me."

"I don't really remember the details," I lied.

He moved his hand from my neck and rested a fingertip on my lips. "But I'll stick to just kissing these if it makes you feel better. No mark." He started to lean toward me, and I jerked away.

"You will not! It's wrong."

"What, kissing you, or kissing you in Pies and Stuff?"

I glanced around, suddenly aware that we were creating a dinner show for the senior citizens, even if they couldn't hear us. I backed up.

"Both," I said, feeling my cheeks burn. "If you're going to attempt something inappropriate - something you said you wouldn't do anymore - then you could at least pick a better place."

He laughed softly, and the look in his eyes confused me further. "Okay" he said. "The next time I kiss you, I promise it'll be in a more romantic place."

"I - what? No! You shouldn't try at all!" I began moving toward the door, and he fell in step with me. "What happened to loving me from a distance? What happened to not, um, bringing up any of this stuff?" For someone who was allegedly just going to watch from afar, he wasn't doing a very good job. And I was doing an even worse job of being indifferent.

He moved in front of the door and blocked my way. "I said I wouldn't - if you don't want me to. But you're kind of giving me mixed signals, Sage."

"I am not," I said, amazed that I could even say that with a straight face. Even I didn't believe it. "You're presumptuous and arrogant and a whole lot of other things if you think I've changed my mind."

"You see, that's just it." There he was again, moving into my space. "I think you like the 'other things.'"

I shook off my daze and pulled away. "I like humans."

Another Alchemist lesson came to mind. They look like us, but don't be deceived. The Moroi don't display the malice of the Strigoi, but creatures who drink blood and manipulate nature have no place in our world. Work with them only as you must. We are not the same. Keep your distance as much as possible. It's for the good of your soul.

Adrian didn't look like he believed this either, but he stepped away and headed outside. I followed a few moments later, thinking I'd played with fire more than once today.

Chapter Fourteen

SUNDAY ROLLED AROUND, and the day started off quietly. We were nearing the point when Veronica might strike again, and my stomach was in knots over what her next step would be . . . and how stuck we were on how to stop her. Then I received help from an unexpected source when my phone rang with an unknown number on the display.

Normally, I wouldn't answer something like that, but my life was hardly normal these days. Besides, it was a Los Angeles area code.

"Hello?"

"Hi! Is this Taylor?"

It took me a moment to remember my secret identity. I did not, however, recall giving my actual number to any of the girls we'd warned about Veronica.

"Yes," I said warily.

"This is Alicia, from Old World Bed-and-Breakfast."

"Hi," I said, still puzzled as to why and how she'd be calling me.

Her voice was as cheery and bright as when we'd met her. "I wanted to know if you'd thought any more about getting a room for your anniversary."

"Oh, well . . . that. We're still deciding. But, uh, probably we're going to go with something closer to the coast. You know, romantic beach walks and all that."

"I can totally understand," she said, though she sounded disappointed at the loss of a sale. "If you change your mind, just let me know. We're running a special this month, so you could get the Bunny Suite at a really good price. I remember you saying it reminded you of your pet rabbit. What was his name?"

"Hopper," I said flatly.

"Hopper! That's right. Such a sweet name."

"Yeah, awesome." I tried to think of a polite way to phrase my next question but simply chose directness. "Look, Alicia, how did you get this number?"

"Oh, Jet gave it to me."

"He did?"

"Yup." She'd apparently gotten over her disappointment and now sounded bright and chirpy again. "He filled out an info card while you guys were here and put down your number."

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