With that, she took her book and lay on the bed, purposely putting her back to me. I didn’t care, though. It was no different than any other attitude I’d received today, and I now had a much bigger concern on my mind. I’d scarcely allowed myself to think about it until now. There’d been too many other trials and ordeals to get through, but now we were here. The end of the day. Bedtime. Once I was in pajamas (identical to my day scrubs) and had brushed my teeth, I got into bed with a barely constrained excitement.
I would sleep soon. And I would dream of Adrian.
The realization had swirled at the back of my mind, keeping me going through my low points. This was what I had worked for, why I had endured the day’s indignities. I was out of my cell and free of the gas. Now I would sleep normally and dream of him . . . provided my eagerness didn’t keep me awake.
As it turned out, that wasn’t going to be an issue. After an hour of reading time, the chimes sounded, and the lights went out automatically. The room’s door was a sliding pocket door that didn’t quite hit flush against the wall, allowing a crack of light in from the hall that I was kind of happy to see after my months in pitch-blackness. I heard a click, like some kind of bolt coming out, that locked the door in place. I snuggled into the covers, filled with excitement . . . and suddenly began to feel tired. Very tired. One minute I was imagining what I’d say to Adrian; the next, I could barely keep my eyes open. I fought it, forcing my mind to stay focused, but it was as though a heavy fog was descending on me, weighing me down and clouding my mind. It was a sensation I was all too familiar with.
“No . . .” I managed to say. I wasn’t free of the gas. They were still regulating our sleep, probably to make sure no afterhours collusion took place. I was too exhausted to think past that. Thick sleep soon wrapped around me, dragging me into a darkness that had no dreams.
And no chance for escape.
CHAPTER 6
ADRIAN
NINA WAS A GOOD DRINKING BUDDY and not just because she could hold her liquor.
Even when not actively wielding spirit, she had the same intuitiveness that we spirit users naturally possessed. She quickly picked up on when I wanted to talk about things and, most importantly, when I didn’t. We started off in a quiet bar, and I was happy to let her do most of the talking. It didn’t sound like she’d made many friends these last few months at Court, and with Olive gone, Nina had had little chance to unburden herself.
“I just don’t understand,” she said. “People almost seem afraid of me. I mean, they say they aren’t, but I can tell. They avoid me.”
“Spirit still freaks a lot of people out, that’s all. And I can tell you this, after living around Moroi, dhampirs, and humans, it’s a fact that people are afraid of what they don’t understand.” I emphasized my point with a drink stirrer. “And most are too lazy or ignorant to find out more.”
Nina smiled but still looked wistful. “Yeah, but everyone seems to accept Dimitri and Sonya. And they actually were Strigoi. Seems like that would be a lot harder to get on board with than a girl who just helped restore one.”
“Oh, there was plenty of freaking out going on when those two were first restored, believe me. But Dimitri’s gallant reputation and heroic acts soon overshadowed that. Then Sonya got her own fame with all her ‘Strigoi vaccine’ work.”
“Is that what it takes?” Nina asked. “Do I—and Olive—have to do great deeds to get people to forget about our pasts?”
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” I said staunchly. “Is that why Olive left? Was it too hard being around others?”
Nina frowned and looked down at the edge of her glass. She was drinking cosmos, which were a little too fruity for my tastes. I spared a moment to idly wonder what Sydney would drink, if she ever allowed herself to indulge. Some girly cocktail like that? No, I instantly knew if Sydney ever drank, it would be wine, and she’d be one of those people who could tell you the year, region, and soil components the grapes were grown in, based on a sip alone. Me? I’d be lucky if I could tell the difference between boxed and bottled wine. The thought of her made me start to smile, and I quickly hid it, lest Nina see and think I was laughing at her.
“I don’t know why Olive left,” she said at last. “And that’s almost as bad as her leaving in the first place. I’m her sister. I brought her back!” Nina jerked her head back up, and tears glittered in those gray eyes. “If something’s bothering her, she should have come to me first. After everything I went through for her . . . does she think I wouldn’t listen? Doesn’t she know how much I love her? We share the same blood; that’s a bond nothing and no one can ever break. I would do anything for her—anything—if she only asked, if she’d only trust me enough to ask. . . .”
She trembled, and there was a slightly unhinged quality to her voice, one I recognized. It happened to me when spirit started to make me feel unstable. “Maybe she feels like you’ve done too much for her already,” I said, gently placing a hand over hers. “Have you reached out to her in dreams?”
Nina nodded, calming a little. “She always tells me she’s fine and that she just needs more time.”
“Well, there you go. My mom told me the same thing when she was locked up. Sometimes people need to work things out on their own.”
“I guess,” she said. “But I still hate the thought of her being alone. I wish she’d at least reached out to Neil or someone else.”
“I think he wishes it too. But he’ll be glad to know she’s just figuring things out. He probably respects the whole solitary journey thing.” I finished my drink and saw hers was getting low too.
“Another round?” she asked.
“Nah.” I stood up and put some cash on the table. “Let’s find a different scene. You said you wanted to meet more people, right?”
“Yes . . .” Her voice was wary as she stood with me. “Do you know where to find a party or something?”
“I’m Adrian Ivashkov,” I declared. “The parties find me.”
That was a slight exaggeration, as I actually did have to go seeking one . . . but I was right on my first try. A royal who’d been in my class at Alder, Vanessa Szelsky, used to always throw weekend parties at her parents’ Court accommodations, and I had no reason to think things had changed in less than a year, especially since I’d heard her parents still traveled excessively. Vanessa and I had made out a few times over the years, enough that she regarded me pretty favorably but not enough that she would blink or get upset about me crashing her party with another girl.