classes. Pine cleaner.”
I couldn’t help a grin and looked up at him. I’d been half-joking, but it was true: he had changed remarkably since we’d met. There was still a hurting man inside, one who bore the scars of what Rose and Dimitri had done to him, but I could see the signs of healing. He was steadier and stronger, and if he could just continue to hold the course, with no more crises for a while, a remarkable transformation might truly happen.
It took several seconds of silence for me to realize that I’d been staring at him while my mind spun out its thoughts. And, actually, he was staring at me, with a look of wonder.
“My God, Sage. Your eyes. How have I never noticed them?”
That uncomfortable feeling was spreading over me again. “What about them?”
“The color,” he breathed. “When you stand in the light. They’re amazing . . . like molten gold. I could paint those . . .” He reached toward me but then pulled back. “They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
Something in the way he was looking at me froze me up and made my stomach do flip-flops, though I couldn’t quite articulate why. I only knew that he looked as though he was seeing me for the very first time . . . and it scared me. I’d been able to brush off his easy, joking compliments, but this intensity was something different altogether, something I didn’t know how to react to. When he looked at me like this, I
Adrian blinked, and some of that rapture faded. His lips twisted into one of his sly smiles, and it was as though nothing weird had happened. “Showtime, huh?”
I nodded, reeling with a confusing mix of relief, nervousness, and . . . excitement. Except, I wasn’t entirely sure if those feelings were from Adrian or our impending visitors. All I knew was that suddenly, I was able to breathe more easily than I had a few moments ago.
He walked across the living room and opened the door with a flourish. Abe swept in, resplendent in a gray and yellow suit that coordinated bafflingly well with Adrian’s paint job. A wide grin broke out over the older Moroi’s face.
“Adrian, Sydney . . . so lovely to see you again. I believe one of you already knows this young lady?” He moved past us, revealing a lean dhampir girl with auburn hair and big blue eyes filled with suspicion.
“Hello, Angeline,” I said.
When they’d told me Angeline Dawes was going to be Jill’s new roommate, I thought it was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard. Angeline was one of the Keepers, that separatist group of Moroi, dhampirs, and humans who lived in the wilds of West Virginia. They wanted nothing to do with the “civilization” of any of our races and had a number of bizarre customs, not the least of which was their abominable tolerance for interracial romance.
Later, when I’d thought about it, I decided Angeline might not be such a bad choice. She was the same age as Jill, possibly giving Jill a closer connection than I could manage. Angeline, while not trained the way a guardian like Eddie was, still could hold her own in a fight. If anyone came for Jill, they’d have their work cut out for them getting through Angeline. And with the aversion Angeline’s people had toward “tainted” Moroi, she would have no reason to further the politics of some rival faction.
As I studied her and her threadbare clothes, I wondered, though, just how well she was going to adapt to being away from the Keepers. She wore a cocky look on her face that I’d seen when visiting her community, but here it was underscored with some nervousness as she took in Adrian’s place. After living in the woods her entire life, this small apartment with its TV and plaid sofa was probably the height of modern luxury.
“Angeline,” said Abe. “This is Adrian Ivashkov.”
Adrian extended his hand, turning on that natural charm. “A pleasure.”
She took his hand after a moment’s hesitation. “Nice to meet you,” she said in her odd southern accent. She studied him for a few more seconds. “You look too pretty to be useful.”
I gasped in spite of myself. Adrian chuckled and shook her hand.
“Truer words were never spoken,” he said.
Abe glanced over at me. I probably had a look of terror on my face because I was already imagining the damage control I’d have to do with Angeline saying or doing something completely wrong at Amberwood.
“Sydney will undoubtedly want to . . . debrief you on what to expect before you begin school,” said Abe diplomatically.
“Undoubtedly,” I repeated.
Adrian had stepped away from Angeline but was still grinning. “Let Jailbait do it. Better yet, let Castile. It’ll be good for him.”
Abe shut the door but not before I got a glimpse behind him to the empty hallway. “It’s not just the two of you, is it?” I asked. “I heard there were others. Sonya’s one, right?”
Abe nodded. “They’ll be right up. They’re parking the car. Street parking’s terrible around here.”
Adrian looked over at me, hit by revelation. “Hey, do I inherit Keith’s car too?”
“Afraid not,” I said. “It belonged to his dad. He took it back.” Adrian’s face fell.
Abe stuffed his hands in his pockets and strolled casually around the living room. Angeline remained where she was. I think she was still sizing up the situation.
“Ah, yes,” mused Abe. “The late, great Mr. Darnell. That boy’s really been beset with tragedy, hasn’t he? Such a hard life.” He paused and turned to Adrian. “But you, at least, seem to have benefited from his downfall.”
“Hey,” said Adrian. “I earned this, so don’t give me any grief about bailing on Clarence. I know you wanted me to stay there for some weird reason but—”
“And you did,” said Abe simply.
Adrian frowned. “Huh?”
“You did exactly what I wanted. I’d suspected something odd was going on with Clarence Donahue, that he might be selling his blood. I’d hoped keeping you on hand would uncover the plot.” Abe stroked his chin in that mastermind way of his. “Of course, I had no idea Mr. Darnell was involved. Nor did I expect you and young Sydney to team up to unravel it all.”
“I’d hardly go that far,” I said dryly. A strange thought occurred to me. “Why would you care if Keith and Clarence were selling vampire blood? I mean, we Alchemists have reasons for not wanting that . . . but why would you feel that way?”
A surprised glint flashed in Adrian’s eyes, followed by insight. He eyed Abe carefully. “Maybe because he doesn’t want the competition.”
My jaw nearly dropped open. It was no secret to anyone, Alchemist or Moroi, that Abe Mazur trafficked in illegal goods. That he might be moving large amounts of vampire blood to willing humans had never occurred to me. But as I studied him longer, I realized it should have.
“Now, now,” said Abe, never breaking a sweat, “no need to bring up unpleasant topics.”
“Unpleasant?” I exclaimed. “If you’re involved in anything that—”
Abe held up a hand to stop me. “Enough, please. Because if that sentence ends with you saying you’ll talk to the Alchemists, then by all means, let’s get them out here and discuss all sorts of mysteries. Say, for example, like how Mr. Darnell lost his eye.”
I froze.
“Strigoi took it,” said Adrian impatiently.
“Oh, come now,” said Abe, a smile twisting his lips. “My faith in you was just being restored. Since when do Strigoi do such precision maiming? Very artful maiming, I might add. Not that anyone probably ever noticed. Wasted talent, I tell you.”
“What are you saying?” asked Adrian aghast. “It wasn’t Strigoi? Are you saying someone cut his eye out on purpose? Are you saying that you—” Words failed him, and he simply looked back and forth between me and Abe. “That’s it, isn’t it? Your devil’s bargain. But why?”
I cringed as three sets of eyes stared at me, but there was no way I could acknowledge what Adrian was starting to put together. Maybe I could have told him if we were alone. Maybe. But I couldn’t tell him while Abe looked so smug and certainly not with an outsider like Angeline standing there.
