We made it upstairs, where a cluster of guardians anxiously waited at the stairwell’s entrance. They’d been under strict orders not to interfere, but it was clear that went against their natures.
“Get everyone out of here,” I said to the guardian closest to me. “There’s a fire down there, and I don’t know how far it’s spread. And make sure there are no weapons left up here.” These were the Warriors, after all. I didn’t want a new disaster brought on because of explosives accidentally igniting.
Adrian and I made it outside, and I guided him past the busy guardians and Alchemists, as well as the Warrior prisoners. Out near where we’d parked, I caught sight of some familiar faces and made them our destination. Rose, Dimitri, and Eddie stood by Jill, who was sitting in a folding chair next to another chair. That chair’s occupant was starting to get up and be led away by a guardian, and I recognized the vacant expression of a feeder.
“Wait,” I called. “Adrian needs blood too.”
Jill leapt to her feet, still looking weary and bedraggled, but with much more life and color in her face than when I’d seen her in the basement. Despite everything she’d just been through, she hurried forward to help Adrian sit. I didn’t know if he actually needed blood, but he’d just been through a big ordeal of his own, and blood usually had a curative effect on Moroi. He hadn’t said a word to me since my name earlier, and I couldn’t shake the panic that spirit might have finally claimed him for good. The feeder offered his neck, and Adrian automatically leaned over and bit down. I looked away, not sure I’d ever be entirely comfortable with this part of vampiric life.
“He’s in there,” said Jill, holding my hand, her green eyes looking even wider than usual with her face so gaunt. “He’ll be okay.”
I nodded and tried to hold back tears. “You should be resting,” I told her. My heart was tied up with Adrian, but it hit me then just how much she’d endured. The fact that she could stand here and be concerned for someone else was a testament to her strength. “Oh, God, Jill. I can’t even imagine what you must have gone through. I’m so sorry we couldn’t get to you sooner. Did they hurt you?”
She shook her head and managed a weak smile, though I could see the anguish in her eyes. “Most were too nervous to be around me that long. Alicia had some kind of time conditions set on that spell . . . with that creature. There was a short period each day, around sunrise, when someone could come into my cell, drug me, leave food and blood, and then get out. They never stayed long—I think they were too afraid of being trapped in there with me.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said again. “I wish we could have saved you sooner.”
Jill hugged me. “I know you were trying. I was able to see a lot through the bond and—”
“Jailbait?”
The feeder was stepping away, and Adrian was looking in our direction, his expression alert and clear. Jill cried out and ran into his arms, tears shining on her face. My own tears fell then, unable to stop themselves in the wake of this reunion.
“You’re okay,” he breathed, cupping her face. “You’re okay. I was so worried. You have no idea. I thought I’d failed you—”
Jill began to cry harder. “You’ve never failed me. Never.”
I wanted to throw myself in Adrian’s arms as well but waited so that they could have this moment. The love Adrian and I shared was powerful, and I knew it would sustain us for the rest of our lives, no matter what was to come. But the love he and Jill shared, this sibling-like affection born from spirit, was powerful too. I knew how it had eaten him up to be away from her.
The sound of a car door caught my attention. I looked over to the other side of the makeshift parking lot just in time to see my father and Zoe getting out of a car—with Stanton. After a quick glance to ascertain Adrian and Jill were fine without me, I walked over to intercept the Alchemists.
“Sydney,” said Stanton, by way of greeting. “It seems everything’s worked out in this operation of yours. I presume you’ll give me those other two names?”
“Charlene Hampton and Eugene Li,” I said promptly.
Stanton repeated them to herself and immediately reached for her cell phone. “Very good. I’ll see to it they’re looked into.”
“What about the rest of our deal?” I demanded.
“Not much time has passed,” she reminded me. “But I was able to get an intermediary decision—for you. The other Alchemist leaders have agreed to leave you alone. You and your, uh, husband may go off into the world and do whatever it is you plan on doing.” A small frown in her otherwise proper delivery was the only indication of how distasteful she found that prospect.
“You mean it?” I asked. “Adrian and I are free? No one spying on us or looking over our shoulder?” My dad’s jaw dropped.
“As free as anyone is in this world,” she said ruefully. “Honestly, I think it was a relief to some of them. You’re an awful lot of trouble, Sydney Ivashkov.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “And what about the others? The other detainees?”
“Amnesty for them as well—if you turn over the information,” she added. “I can’t make any guarantees about the future of re-education. That’s a more complex issue.”
It didn’t seem that complex to me, but freedom for me and the others who’d suffered through re-education was a huge boon—if the Alchemists held true to it.
“I meant what I said about my questions concerning the re-education issue,” Stanton told me. “It is one I plan on pursuing. We do need to have disciplinary systems in place—like in the case of the tattoo emergence—but obviously, there are lines we might be able to better redefine.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” I said. Again, I hoped I was right in my read of her, that she was telling the truth. “I’ll have the laptop’s contents sent to you.”
“Excellent. Now excuse me a moment while I deal with Ms. Hampton and Mr. Li.” She dialed a number on her cell phone and strolled away, leaving me in a slightly awkward situation with my dad and Zoe.
“I don’t know what you’ve pulled over her,” my dad growled. “But there’s no way the Alchemists are going to let you just get away with this abomination of a life. Some might think it’s okay, but others won’t.”