Last Sacrifice

'Emily . . . ?' Sonya's voice was very small, on the verge of cracking. 'It . . . it's me . . . really me . . .'

Emily tried to tug the man inside as well but stopped when she got a good look at Sonya. Like anyone else, Emily had to acknowledge the obvious. Sonya had no Strigoi features. Plus, she was out in broad daylight. Emily faltered and opened her mouth to speak, but her lips couldn't quite manage it. She finally turned to me.

'Rose . . . what's going on?'

I was surprised that she would regard me as an authority, both because we'd only met once and because I honestly wasn't sure what was going on either. It took me a few attempts to find my voice. 'I think . . . I think we should come inside . . .'

Emily's gaze fell back on Sonya. Jill tried to push forward to see what all the drama was about, but Emily continued blocking the door, still not totally convinced it was safe. I couldn't blame her. At last, she gave a slow nod and stepped away to give us access.

Sydney's eyes flicked toward the car, where Victor, Robert, and Dimitri were waiting. 'What about them?' she asked me.

I hesitated. I wanted Dimitri to be with me to drop the bombshell, but Emily might only be able to handle one thing at a time here. Moroi didn't have to run in royal circles to know who Victor Dashkov was or what he looked like. Our trip to Las Vegas had been proof of that. I shook my head at Sydney. 'They can wait.'

We settled into the family's living room and learned the guy who'd answered the door was Emily's husband, John Mastrano. Emily went through the motions of offering us beverages, like this was a perfectly ordinary visit, but the look on her face confirmed she was still in shock. She handed us glasses of water like a robot, her face so pale she might have been Strigoi.

John rested his hand on Emily's once she sat down. He kept giving us wary looks, but for her, he was all affection and concern. 'What's going on?'

Emily's eyes were still dazed. 'I . . . don't know. My cousin is here . . . but I don't understand how . . .' She looked back and forth at me, Sydney, and Sonya. 'How is this possible?' Her voice shook.

'It was Lissa, wasn't it?' exclaimed Jill, who undoubtedly knew this relative's sordid history. She was understandably shocked—and a little nervous—but excitement was beginning to stir. 'I heard what happened with Dimitri. It's true, isn't it? Lissa can heal Strigoi. She saved him. She saved . . .' Jill turned toward Sonya, enthusiasm wavering a little. I wondered what kind of stories she'd heard about Sonya. 'She saved you.'

'Lissa didn't do it,' I said. 'Another, uh, spirit user did.'

Jill's face lit up. 'Adrian?' I'd forgotten about her crush on him.

'No . . . someone else. It's not important,' I added hastily. 'Sonya's . . . well, she's Moroi again. Confused, though. Not quite herself.'

Sonya had been drinking in the sight of her cousin but now turned to me with a wry, knowing smile. 'I can speak for myself, Rose.'

'Sorry,' I said.

Emily turned to Sydney and frowned. They'd been introduced, but no more. 'Why are you here?' Emily didn't have to say what she really meant. She wanted to know why a human was here. 'Are you a feeder?'

'No!' exclaimed Sydney, jumping up from her spot beside me on the loveseat. I had never seen her filled with such outrage and disgust. 'Say that again, and I'll walk right out of here! I'm an Alchemist.'

She was met with blank stares, and I pulled Sydney back down. 'Easy, girl. I don't think they don't know what Alchemists are.' Secretly, I was glad. When I'd first discovered the Alchemists, I'd felt like I was the last person in the world to find out. It was nice to know others were out of the loop too. Keeping things simple for now, I explained to Emily, 'Sydney's been helping us.'

Tears brimmed in Emily's blue eyes as she turned back to her cousin. Emily Mastrano was one of the most stunning women I'd ever met. Even tears were beautiful on her. 'It's really you, isn't it? They brought you back to me. Oh God.' Emily rose and walked over to hold her cousin in a deep embrace. 'I've missed you so much. I can't believe this.'

I almost felt like crying, too, but sternly reminded myself that we had come with a mission. I knew how startling this all was. We had just turned the Mastrano family's world upside down . . . and I was about to complicate things even more. I hated to do it. I wished they could have the time they needed to adjust, to celebrate the miracle of having Sonya back. But the clock at Court—and on my life—was ticking.

'We brought her . . .' I said at last. 'But there's another reason we're here.'

I don't know what tone my voice conveyed, but Emily stiffened and stepped back from Sonya, sitting down beside her husband. Somehow, in that moment, I think she knew why we were here. I could see in her eyes that she was afraid—as if she'd been dreading this type of visit for years, as if she'd imagined it a hundred times.

I pushed forward. 'We know . . . we know about Eric Dragomir.'

'No,' said Emily, her voice an odd mixture of harshness and desperateness. Her obstinate manner was remarkably similar to Sonya's initial refusal to aid us. 'No. We are not doing this.'

The instant I'd seen Jill, the instant I'd recognized those eyes, I'd known we had the right place. Emily's words—more importantly, her lack of a denial—confirmed it.

'We have to,' I said. 'This is serious.'

Emily turned to Sonya. 'You promised! You promised you wouldn't tell!'

'I didn't,' said Sonya, but her face wore its earlier doubt.

'She didn't,' I said firmly, hoping to reassure them both. 'It's hard to explain . . . but she kept her promise.'

'No,' repeated Emily. 'This isn't happening. We cannot talk about this.'

'What . . . what's going on?' demanded John. Anger kindled in his eyes. He didn't like seeing strangers upset his wife.

I directed my words to Emily. 'We have to talk about this. Please. We need your help. We need her help.' I gestured to Jill.

'What do you mean?' asked Jill. That earlier eager spark was gone, cooled by her mother's reaction.

'It's about your—' I came to a stop. I'd rushed into this, ready to find Lissa's sibling—her sister, we now knew—with little thought of the implications. I should have known this would be a secret from everyone—including the child in question. I hadn't considered what a shock this would be to her. And this wasn't just some random stranger. This was Jill. Jill. My friend. The girl who was like a little sister to all of us, the one we looked out for. What was I about to do to her? Looking at John, I realized things were worse still. Did Jill think he was her father? This family was about to be shaken to its core—and I was responsible.

'Don't!' cried Emily, jumping up again. 'Get out! All of you! I don't want you here!'

'Mrs. Mastrano . . .' I began. 'You can't pretend this isn't real. You have to face it.'

'No!' she pointed to the door. 'Get out! Get out, or I'll . . . I'll call the police! Or the guardians! You . . .' Realization flashed over her now that the initial shock of seeing Sonya had faded. Victor wasn't the only criminal Moroi would be on guard for. 'You're a fugitive! A murderer!'

'She is not!' said Jill, leaning forward. 'I told you, Mom. I told you before it was a mistake—'

'Get out,' repeated Emily.

'Sending us away won't change the truth,' I said, forcing myself to stay calm.

'Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?' John's face was flushed red, angry and defensive. 'If I don't have an answer within thirty seconds, I'm calling the guardians and the police.'

I looked over at Jill and couldn't speak. I didn't know how to say what I needed to, at least not tactfully. Sydney, however, didn't have that problem.

'He's not your father,' she said bluntly, pointing at John.

There was a slight pause in the room. Jill almost looked disappointed, like she'd hoped for more exciting news.

'I know that. He's my stepdad. Or, well, my dad as far as I'm concerned.'

Emily sank back on the couch, burying her face in her hands. She seemed to be crying, but I was pretty sure she could jump up at any moment and call the authorities. We had to get through this fast, no matter how painful.