that—dancing.
He nodded and swept me into a turn. He was a good dancer, which wasn’t entirely a surprise. Adrian might be brash and impertinent, but he knew how to move. Maybe dance lessons had been part of growing up in an elite tier of Moroi society. Or maybe he was just naturally skilled at using his body. That kiss had certainly show a fair amount of talent. . . .
Ugh. Adrian was right. I
Unaware of my thoughts, he glanced over at Stanton again. “She’s got the look of a general who just sent her army on a suicide mission.”
“Nice to know she cares,” I said. For a moment, I forgot my dance floor woes as I thought angrily back to Stanton’s “need to know” attitude.
“I can pull you closer, if you want,” he said. “Just to see how much she cares. I’m always willing to help like that, you know.”
“You’re a real team player,” I said. “If putting me in danger is for the greater good, then Stanton probably wouldn’t do anything about you moving in on me.”
Adrian’s self-satisfied smirk faded. “Did she ever come clean about that guy you were trying to find? Martin?”
“Marcus,” I corrected. I frowned. Her denial still bothered me. “She keeps claiming she doesn’t know him, and I can’t push too hard if I don’t want her to get suspicious.”
“I thought of a way you might find him,” said Adrian. I would’ve thought he was joking if his face wasn’t so serious.
“
“Yup. You’ve got his picture, right? Couldn’t you just do the same spell you did the other night? Locate him that way?”
I was so surprised, I nearly tripped. Adrian tightened his grip to keep me from falling. I shivered as that small gesture brought us closer. The tension between us kicked up a notch, and I realized that along with our bodies being nearer, so were our lips.
I had a little difficulty speaking, both because of how it felt to be so close to him and because I was still stunned by what he’d said. “That’s . . . wow . . . that’s not a bad idea. . . .”
“I know,” he said. “I’m kind of amazed myself.”
Really, the circumstances were no different from finding Ms. Terwilliger’s sister. I needed to locate someone I’d never met. I had a picture, which was what the spell required. What was different was that I’d be initiating the spell myself. It was a difficult piece of magic, and I knew Ms. Terwilliger’s coaching had helped me. There was also the moral dilemma of working that type of spell on my own. My conscience had an easier time handling magic when I felt coerced.
“I couldn’t try until next month,” I said, thinking back to the spell book. “I mean, I have the picture with me, but the spell’s got to be done during a full moon. This is the last night for the current one, and I’d never be able to get the components in time.”
“What do you need?”
I told him, and he nodded along, promising he could get them.
I scoffed. “Where are you going to get anise and hyssop at this time of night? In this town?”
“This town’s full of quirky boutique shops. There’s some herbal place that sells soaps and perfume made of anything you can imagine. I guarantee they’ve got what you need.”
“And I guarantee they’re closed.” He swept me into another flourish-filled spin, and I kept up with him perfectly.
The song was wrapping up. The time had flown by faster than I’d thought. I’d forgotten about the onlookers. I’d even forgotten I was with a vampire. I was simply dancing with Adrian, which felt easy and natural, so long as I didn’t think about our audience.
His roguish look returned. “Don’t worry about that. I can find the owner and talk her into making an exception.”
I groaned. “No. Not compulsion.” Compulsion was an ability vampires had to force their wills on others. All vampires had it to a small extent, and spirit users had it in excess. Most Moroi considered it immoral. Alchemists considered it a sin.
The song ended, but Adrian didn’t release me right away. He leaned a little closer. “Do you want to wait another month to find Marcus?”
“No,” I admitted.
Adrian’s lips were a breath away. “Then we’ll meet in two hours by the hotel’s service door.” I gave a weak nod, and he stepped back, releasing my hands. “Here’s one last sign of good relations.” With a bow that could’ve come straight out of a Jane Austen novel, he gestured to the bar and spoke loudly. “Thank you for the dance. May I escort you to get a drink?”
I followed without a word, my head spinning with what I’d need to do in two hours. At the bar, Adrian astonished me by ordering ginger ale. “Nice restraint,” I said, realizing he’d need to stay sober to work spirit. I hoped he hadn’t indulged too much already. For him, the only thing better than an open bar would be a case of cigarettes showing up at his door.
“I’m a master of self-control,” he declared.
I wasn’t so sure of that but didn’t contradict him. I sipped my Diet Coke, and we stood there in comfortable silence. Two Moroi men sidled up the bar near us, talking with the volume and exuberance of those who hadn’t held back on sampling free liquor.
“Well, no matter how liberal that girl is, she’s certainly easy on the eyes,” one guy said. “I could look at her all day, especially in that dress.”
His friend nodded. “Definitely an improvement over Tatiana. Too bad about what happened to her, but maybe a change of scenery was for the best. Did that woman ever smile?” They both laughed at the joke.
Beside me, Adrian’s own smile vanished, and he went perfectly still. Tatiana, the former Moroi queen, had been Christian’s great-aunt. She’d been viciously murdered this summer, and though Adrian rarely spoke about her, I’d heard from a number of people that they’d been close. Adrian’s lips twisted into a snarl, and he started to turn around. Without hesitation, I reached out and grabbed his free hand, holding it tightly.
“Adrian, don’t,” I said softly.
“Sydney, they can’t say that.” There was a dangerous look in his eyes, one I’d never seen.
I squeezed his hand harder. “They’re drunk, and they’re stupid. They’re not worth your time. Please don’t start a scene here—for Sonya’s sake.” I hesitated. “And for me.”
His face was still filled with rage, and for a moment, I thought he would ignore me and throw a glass at one of those guys. Or worse. I’d seen angry spirit users, and they were terrifying. At last, that fury faded, and I felt his hand relax in mine. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, they were dazed and unfocused.
“No one really knew her, Sydney.” The sorrow in his voice broke my heart. “They all thought she was some draconian bitch. They never knew how funny she was, how sweet she could be. You can’t . . . you can’t imagine how much I miss her. She didn’t deserve to die like that. She was the only one who understood me—even more than my own parents. She accepted me. She saw the good in my soul. She was the only one who believed in me.”
He was standing in front of me, but he wasn’t with me. I recognized the rambling, consuming nature of spirit. It messed with its users’ minds. Sometimes it made them scattered and distant, like he was now. Sometimes it challenged people’s grip on reality. And sometimes, it could create a despair with devastating consequences.
“She wasn’t the only one,” I told him. “I believe in you. She’s at peace, and nothing they say can change who she was. Please come back to me.”
He still stared off into someplace I couldn’t follow. After a few frightening moments, he blinked and focused on me. His expression was still sad, but at least he was in control again. “I’m here, Sage.” He removed his hand and glanced around to make sure no one had seen me holding it. Thankfully, the bride and groom had taken to the dance floor, and everyone was too mesmerized watching them. “Two hours.”
