Home > The Fiery Heart (Bloodlines, #4)(13)

The Fiery Heart (Bloodlines, #4)(13)
Author: Richelle Mead

“Your Majesty,” I said grandly.

“Hello, Adrian.” I could tell Lissa was already smiling. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, you know. The glam life of southern California. Palm trees and movie stars.” I slipped into my flippant mask easily, concealing what was really going on. Lissa wouldn’t have bought it if she were here in person, but over the phone, I was protected.

“Well, I hope you can drag yourself away from it because I have a . . . task for you.”

“Task?” Her word choice and change in tone tipped me off that something big was coming.

“There was another Strigoi restoration.”

Wow, the surprises just kept rolling in. “Who was it? And who the hell did it? You?”

“No—a different spirit user. One we didn’t know about. Her name is Nina Sinclair, and she just restored her sister. Olive.”

“Nina. Olive. Got it. Go on.”

Even I knew this was serious. The only thing even remotely as incredible as bringing someone back from the dead with spirit was restoring them from being a Strigoi. It was pretty difficult to do because it wasn’t just a matter of wielding a lot of spirit. You actually had to make sure the Strigoi was subdued. Then, the spirit user had to stake the Strigoi while working the magic. We directly knew of only three people this had happened to. We also didn’t know very many spirit users, so the discovery of a new one was a big deal.

“I need you to drop everything and go to them,” Lissa said. It wasn’t exactly her throne-room voice, but it was definitely the kind that didn’t expect an argument. “We need to find out if we can see anything in a newly saved person that might help us understand why they can’t be turned again. Sonya’s in Europe, and I can’t leave Court. You’re the only spirit user who can go and investigate on short notice.”

Now I understood the importance. Strigoi were made by two methods. One was if a Strigoi drained a victim and then gave blood back to him or her. Moroi could also turn by choice if they drained the person they were feeding from. We’d recently discovered that Strigoi who had been restored couldn’t be turned again. No one knew for sure if it was unique to them or if there was some way to use spirit to spread that ability to others. We couldn’t stop a Strigoi from killing someone through other means, but if there was a way to create magical protection to save others from being forced into that undead state, it could revolutionize our world. Sonya and I had worked for almost two months, running all sorts of tests and examinations to see if we could manipulate spirit into whatever it had done for the restored. No luck.

“Drop everything, huh?” I couldn’t help a little bitterness. Even though she knew I was in college, it could apparently be sidelined at a moment’s notice.

She sighed. “I know you’ve got things going on. I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it wasn’t crucial. She’s very recently restored—very recently. Less than twenty-four hours. If there’s some residual sign of what exactly happened in the process, we can’t waste a moment. We can get you on a flight to Dallas in a few hours. Rose and Dimitri are on their way there now.”

“Really?” At this point, there was really nothing I shouldn’t expect. Spending the weekend with my ex and her Russian warlord was probably just the warm-up for more shenanigans. “Well, at least he’ll have a chance to stock up on his Western wear.”

I could hear a hint of laughter in her voice. “You know why he has to go.”

I did. Dimitri Belikov was one of the lucky three—well, four now—who’d been restored. He didn’t have the ability to see spirit, but he did have the inside track on what it was like to suddenly “wake up” and realize you’d been a bloodthirsty monster who’d subsisted on the lives of innocents. Even I could appreciate how messed up that would make you. A little counseling from someone who’d gone through it would be useful, to say the least.

“I understand. And of course I’ll go, Your Majesty.”

“Don’t call me that. And don’t tell me you’re doing this just because you’re my subject. I hope you’ll do it because you’re my friend—and because it’s the right thing to do.” There was a plaintive note in her voice. It must be hard, I thought, when people saw you more as a queen than an actual person.

My next words were true. “I’m doing it for all of those reasons, cousin.”

“You haven’t called me that in a while,” she said fondly. We weren’t actually cousins, but it was a term of endearment the royal families often used with one another.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah.” Her voice grew wistful, and I again spared a thought for what it must be like to be a controversial eighteen-year-old queen with the weight of a nation thrust on your shoulders. “There wasn’t much time to talk at the wedding. How are you, Adrian? I mean, how are you really? With Jill . . . and everything . . .”

“You know how it is.” No flippancy. “Some days are better than others. What about you?”

There was a long silence. “The same. I didn’t realize how much Rose was helping me until our bond went away. She was shouldering so much of that darkness. Now it’s all on me. Which is for the best,” she added quickly. “But it’s still hard.”

“I know.” I fully understood the burden of spirit and could only imagine how that would compound the stress of her position. “At least Jill and I haven’t reached that point. She’s safe.”

“For now,” said Lissa. “It took a little while before the darkness started seeping into Rose. If you guys can work on blocking each other, that’ll help out a lot.”

In more ways than one, I thought.

“Yeah, we’re working on that. Not much luck.”

We fell into another moment of silence, but it was comfortable. Even through the phone, there was a warmth and understanding between the two of us about spirit that no one—except Sonya and this Nina girl—could truly ever grasp. Spirit’s price was powerful.

“Queen or not, I’m always here,” Lissa said, her voice soft. “If you ever need to talk about anything, I’ll understand.”

I was glad once again that we were on the phone because I was pretty sure all the strife and emotional turmoil over Sydney would’ve come spilling out. And no matter what Lissa kindheartedly said, I seriously didn’t think she’d understand that.

“Same here, cousin,” I said as gallantly as I could. “Tell me when and where to go, and I’ll be there with bells on.”

“We’ll have the flight info sent to—oh. I nearly forgot. You need to bring one of the dhampirs with you.”

“Did you get a free companion fare or something?”

“No,” she said, laughing. “It’s just safer. If Olive had any connections to other Strigoi—well, you never know if they might come sniffing around. We’re taking precautions. But if it helps, you can pick which one to take.”

That wasn’t even a choice. I was on the verge of saying Eddie when a moment of inspiration struck. “Neil.”

“Neil?” Lissa sounded surprised but didn’t question it. “Okay. We’ll make it happen.”

Maybe getting Mr. Buckingham Palace away from Palm Springs for a couple days would snap some sense into Jill and even Angeline. Sure, Jill would give me grief, but she’d thank me later when she realized she needed to give up on Neil as a distraction and just lay it all out on the line with Eddie.

As soon as I was off the phone with Lissa, I texted Sydney on the Love Phone: Can you talk? Classes weren’t over yet, so I was hoping she’d be Zoe-free. Sure enough, I got a call back a minute later.

“What’s up?” she asked, making no effort to hide her worry. “Are you okay?”

“Aside from the fact that that my world is a cold and lonely place when you aren’t around? Yeah, I’m okay. But I’m about to take an unexpected vacation.” I gave her a quick rundown of Nina and Olive.

“Wow,” she said when I finished. “Where are you going?”

“Guess. ‘The stars at night are big and bright . . .’”

There was silence.

“You don’t know that song?” I asked.

“No.”

“I’m going to Texas. Dallas. Maybe I can find a cute cowgirl outfit to bring back to you. Leather fringe, short skirt—”

“Just bring yourself back,” she said. But there was amusement in her voice. The line between exasperation and adoration was pretty thin with us sometimes. “When do you leave?”

“Lissa made it sound like a few hours, which probably means I’ll need to actually get to the airport soon. She’s still got to send me the information and have someone get in touch with Neil.” I was certain he wouldn’t warrant a personal royal call. Not like some people.

“Well, be careful . . . but wow, what an opportunity.” I could hear her shifting into intellectual mode. Well, she was always in that mode, but some moments were stronger than others. “I’d kind of given up on being able to find any way to prevent people turning.”

“It’s not a done deal,” I reminded her. “There may not be anything to see. Or I may not be able to find it.” The gravity of what was being placed on my shoulders began to settle in. This mystery had consumed some of the best and brightest minds over the last few months. Now, we had a huge lead . . . and it was up to me to examine it? Who was I to unlock spirit’s secrets? Sonya was better suited to this.

“If it can be done, you can do it,” Sydney said, guessing my insecurity. “I believe in you.”

“You have to say that because you’re my girlfriend.”

“I have to say it because it’s the truth.”

Later, as I packed a hasty overnight bag, I almost wished Sydney hadn’t called. Actually speaking to her just made our parting more bittersweet. Never—not even when I was obsessed with Rose—had I thought I’d be so far gone for a girl. A couple days away, and I plunged into despair. It was ironic since there’d been girls in the past that I kind of wished would stay away for a couple of days. Okay, a lot of days. It all seemed crazy, but then, I was crazy for Sydney.

Lissa sent along my travel info, and I took a taxi over to the airport. Sydney would’ve killed me if I left the Ivashkinator in the long-term parking garage. I was supposed to meet Neil at our airline’s desk and spotted him right away, with his height and rigid posture. And, to my surprise, a shorter blond figure stood beside him. Sydney turned at my approach, a cool Alchemist expression on her face.

“Why, Sage Senior,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound like I wanted to throw her up against a wall and kiss her. “Did they draft you for this crazy adventure too?”

“Sydney was nice enough to give me a ride,” said Neil obliviously.

“That was nice of you,” I agreed, trying to sound as condescending as possible. “Figured you and your sister would be off doing top secret color coding. Or whatever it is you guys do for fun.”

Sydney crossed her arms and put on a stern look. “We rescheduled it so that I could make sure you guys got on your flight. I had to come in and see for myself that you showed up. This is serious, you know.”

I shrugged. “If you say so.”

She managed to look like a perfect, pissed-off Alchemist. Now I wanted to kiss her more than ever.

“We don’t have time for you guys to argue,” said Neil. “And this is serious.” He glanced over at a monitor, and in that brief moment, Sydney met my eyes. A hint of a smile curved at her lips, vanishing just as Neil faced us again. “Time to go. We need to check in.”

She nodded, just as businesslike as him. “Safe travels, and good luck.”

“We make our own luck, Sage.”

That nearly broke her act. It was an old joke between us, and I was glad Neil was too distracted to notice any interpersonal cues or body language. She and I were standing a healthy distance apart, but I was fully conscious of every inch between us and every detail of her body. To anyone else passing by, it was probably completely obvious that we were seconds away from ripping each other’s clothes off.

She bid us farewell and left without a backward glance, but as I got in line to check in, my phone buzzed with a text: I love you.

On such short notice, we had to fly coach. Keeping me away from the temptation of complimentary liquor was probably just as well, since I’d need a clear head to tune in to spirit. Neil, mercifully, was a quiet companion, and I tried to distract myself by reading The Great Gatsby. Sydney had been horrified to discover my home library consisted of a bartending dictionary and an old copy of Esquire, and at her pleading, I’d promised to read something more substantial. I was trying to think deep thoughts as I read Gatsby, but mostly I wanted to throw some parties.

Nina and Olive were being kept at a safe house on the far outskirts of Dallas, with few neighbors to notice the odd sight of guardians patrolling the property. We parked our rental car in the driveway, and through the window, I recognized a familiar figure sitting on the porch’s chair swing, her feet up propped up on the railing. A prickle of anxiety ran through me.

“Here goes nothing,” I muttered.

Rose stood up as we stepped onto the porch. For a moment, I was transported to our first meeting over a year ago, also on a porch. That one had been covered in snow, attached to a posh ski resort. Her beauty had taken my breath away then, and now, after all this time, I still wasn’t unaffected. Her long, dark hair spilled over her shoulders, and there was a fire in her brown eyes that was both dangerous and alluring. That same mix radiated from her body, even in a casual pose and wearing jeans.

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