He tucked a loose piece of hair behind my ear, concern in his deep green eyes. At first, I thought his worry was just for Lissa. "I will,' he said. "I'll do what I can. But Rose ... will it happen to me? Is that what I'll become? Like her and the others?'
Adrian had never shown the extreme side effects Lissa had, largely because he didn't use as much spirit and because he did so much self-medicating with alcohol. I didn't know how long that would last, though. From what I'd seen, there were only a few things to delay the insanity: self-discipline, antidepressants, and bonding to someone shadow-kissed. Adrian didn't seem interested in any of those options.
It was weird, but in this moment of vulnerability, I was reminded of what had just happened with Dimitri. Both of these men, so strong and confident in their ways, yet each needing me for support. You're the strong one, Rose, a voice whispered inside my head.
Adrian gazed off. "Sometimes ... sometimes I can believe the insanity is all imagined, you know? I've never felt it like the others ... like Lissa or old Vlad. But once in a while ...' he paused. "I don't know. I feel so close, Rose. So close to the edge. Like if I allow myself one small misstep, I'll plunge away and never come back. It's like I'll lose myself.'
I'd heard him say stuff like this before, when he'd go off on some weird tangent that only half made sense. It was the closest he ever came to showing that spirit might be messing with his mind too. I'd never realized he was aware of these moments or what they could mean.
He looked back down at me. "When I drink ... I don't worry about it. I don't worry about going crazy. But then I think ... maybe I already I am. Maybe I am, but no one can tell the difference when I'm drunk.'
"You're not crazy,' I said fiercely, pulling him to me. I loved his warmth and the way he felt against my skin. "You'll be okay. You're strong.'
He pressed his cheek to my forehead. "I don't know,' he said. "I think you're my strength.'
It was a sweet and romantic statement, but something about it bothered me. "That's not quite right,' I said, wondering how I could put my feelings into words. I knew you could help someone else in a relationship. You could strengthen them and support them. But you couldn't actually do everything for them. You couldn't solve all their problems. "You have to find it within your--'
The hotel room's alarm clock blared and broke me from the dream, leaving me frustrated both because I missed Adrian and hadn't been able to say all I wanted to. Well, there was nothing I could do for him now. I could only hope he'd manage on his own.
Sydney and I were both sluggish and squinty-eyed. It made sense that she'd be exhausted, since her whole sleeping schedule--when she actually got sleep--had been thrown off. Me? My fatigue was mental. So many people, I thought. So many people needed me ... but it was so hard to help all of them.
Naturally, Dimitri was up and ready to go. He'd woken before us. Last night's breakdown might as well have never happened. It turned out he'd been dying for coffee and had patiently waited for us, not wanting to leave us sleeping and undefended. I shooed him off, and twenty minutes later, he returned with coffee and a box of donuts. He also had purchased an industrial-strength chain at a hardware store across the street "for when we find Sonya,' which made me uneasy. By then Sydney and I were ready to go, and I decided to hold off on my questions. I wasn't crazy about wearing shorts again, not with my legs in this condition, but I was too eager to get to Sonya to insist we stop at a mall.
I did, however, decide it was time to get my companions up to speed.
"So,' I began casually, "Victor Dashkov might be joining us soon.'
It was to Sydney's credit that she didn't drive off the road. "What? That guy who escaped?' I could see in Dimitri's eyes that he was just as shocked, but he kept cool and under control, like always. "Why,' he began slowly, "is Victor Dashkov joining us?'
"Well, it's kind of a funny story ...'
And with that intro, I gave them as brief yet thorough a recap as I could, starting with the background on Robert Doru and ending with the brothers' recent dream visits. I glossed over Victor's "mysterious' escape a few weeks ago, but something told me that Dimitri, in that uncanny way we had of guessing each other's thoughts, was probably putting the pieces together. Both Lissa and I had told Dimitri we'd gone through a lot to learn how to restore him, but we'd never explained the full story--especially the part about breaking out Victor so that he could help us find his brother.
"Look, whether he can help or not, this is our chance to catch him,' I added hastily. "That's a good thing, right?'
"Its an issue we'll deal with ... later.' I recognized the tone in Dimitri's voice. He'd used it a lot at St. Vladimir's. It usually meant there was a private talk in my future, where I'd be grilled for more details.
Kentucky turned out to be pretty beautiful as we drove out to Paris. The land was rolling and green as we got out of the city, and it was easy to imagine wanting to live in a little house out here. I wondered idly if that had been Sonya's motivation and then caught myself. I'd just told Dimitri that Strigoi saw no beauty. Was I wrong? Would gorgeous scenery matter to her?
I found my answer when our GPS led us to Martin Lake. There were only a few houses scattered around it, and among those, only one was blue. Stopping a fair distance away from the house, Sydney parked the car off to the side of the road as much as she could. It was narrow, the shoulders covered in trees and high grass. We all got out of the car and walked a little ways, still keeping our distance.
"Well. It's a blue house,' declared Sydney pragmatically. "But is it hers? I don't see a mailbox or anything.'