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"Oh. So that's why you're up here. For a pity party."
"This isn't a joke. I'm serious." I could tell Lissa was getting angry. It was trumping her earlier distress.
He shrugged and leaned casually against the sloping wall. "So am I. I love pity parties. I wish I'd brought the hats. What do you want to mope about first? How it's going to take you a whole day to be popular and loved again? How you'll have to wait a couple weeks before Hollister can ship out some new clothes? If you spring for rush shipping, it might not be so long."
"Let me leave," she said angrily, this time pushing him aside.
"Wait," he said, as she reached the door. The sarcasm disappeared from his voice. "What...um, what was it like?"
"What was what like?" she snapped.
"Being out there. Away from the Academy."
She hesitated for a moment before answering, caught off guard by what seemed like a genuine attempt at conversation. "It was great. No one knew who I was. I was just another face. Not Moroi. Not royal. Not anything." She looked down at the floor. "Everyone here thinks they know who I am."
"Yeah. It's kind of hard to outlive your past," he said bitterly.
It occurred to Lissa at that moment - and me to by default - just how hard it might be to be Christian. Most of the time, people treated him like he didn't exist. Like he was a ghost. They didn't talk to or about him. They just didn't notice him. The stigma of his parents' crime was too strong, casting its shadow onto the entire Ozera family.
Still, he'd pissed her off, and she wasn't about to feel sorry for him.
"Wait - is this your pity party now?"
He laughed, almost approvingly. "This room has been my pity party for a year now."
"Sorry," said Lissa snarkily. "I was coming here before I left. I've got a longer claim."
"Squatters' rights. Besides, I have to make sure I stay near the chapel as much as possible so people know I haven't gone Strigoi...yet." Again, the bitter tone rang out.
"I used to always see you at mass. Is that the only reason you go? To look good?" Strigoi couldn't enter holy ground. More of that sinning-against-the-world thing.
"Sure," he said. "Why else go? For the good of your soul?"
"Whatever," said Lissa, who clearly had a different opinion. "I'll leave you alone then."
"Wait," he said again. He didn't seem to want her to go. "I'll make you a deal. You can hang out here too if you tell me one thing."
"What?" She glanced back at him.
He leaned forward. "Of all the rumors I heard about you today - and believe me, I heard plenty, even if no one actually told them to me - there was one that didn't come up very much. They dissected everything else: why you left, what you did out there, why you came back, the specialization, what Rose said to Mia, blah, blah, blah. And in all of that, no one, no one ever questioned that stupid story that Rose told about there being all sorts of fringe humans who let you take blood."
She looked away, and I could feel her cheeks starting to burn. "It's not stupid. Or a story."
He laughed softly. "I've lived with humans. My aunt and I stayed away after my parents...died. It's not that easy to find blood." When she didn't answer, he laughed again. "It was Rose, wasn't it? She fed you."
A renewed fear shot through both her and me. No one at school could know about that. Kirova and the guardians on the scene knew, but they'd kept that knowledge to themselves.
"Well. If that's not friendship, I don't know what it is," he said.
"You can't tell anyone," she blurted out.
This was all we needed. As I'd just been reminded, feeders were vampire-bite addicts. We accepted that as part of life but still looked down on them for it. For anyone else - especially a dhampir - letting a Moroi take blood from you was almost, well, dirty. In fact, one of the kinkiest, practically p**n ographic things a dhampir could do was let a Moroi drink blood during sex.
Lissa and I hadn't had sex, of course, but we'd both known what others would think of me feeding her.
"Don't tell anyone," Lissa repeated.
He stuffed his hands in his coat pockets and sat down on one of the crates. "Who am I going to tell? Look, go grab the window seat. You can have it today and hang out for a while. If you're not still afraid of me."
She hesitated, studying him. He looked dark and surly, lips curled in a sort of I'm-such-a-rebel smirk. But he didn't look too dangerous. He didn't look Strigoi. Gingerly, she sat back down in the window seat, unconsciously rubbing her arms against the cold.
Christian watched her, and a moment later, the air warmed up considerably.
Lissa met Christian's eyes and smiled, surprised she'd never noticed how icy blue they were before. "You specialized in fire?"
He nodded and pulled up a broken chair. "Now we have luxury accommodations."
I snapped out of the vision.
"Rose? Rose?"
Blinking, I focused on Dimitri's face. He was leaning toward me, his hands gripping my shoulders. I'd stopped walking; we stood in the middle of the quad separating the upper school buildings.
"Are you all right?"
"I...yeah. I was...I was with Lissa..." I put a hand to my forehead. I'd never had such a long or clear experience like that. "I was in her head."
"Her...head?"
"Yeah. It's part of the bond." I didn't really feel like elaborating.
"Is she all right?"
"Yeah, she's..." I hesitated. Was she all right? Christian Ozera had just invited her to hang out with him. Not good. There was "coasting through the middle," and then there was turning to the dark side. But the feelings humming through our bond were no longer scared or upset. She was almost content, though still a little nervous. "She's not in danger," I finally said. I hoped.
"Can you keep going?"
The hard, stoic warrior I'd met earlier was gone - just for a moment - and he actually looked concerned. Truly concerned. Feeling his eyes on me like that made something flutter inside of me - which was stupid, of course. I had no reason to get all goofy, just because the man was too good-looking for his own good. After all, he was an antisocial god, according to Mason. One who was supposedly going to leave me in all sorts of pain.
"Yeah. I'm fine."
I went into the gym's dressing room and changed into the workout clothes someone had finally thought to give me after a day of practicing in jeans and a T-shirt. Gross. Lissa hanging out with Christian troubled me, but I shoved that thought away for later as my muscles informed me they did not want to go through any more exercise today.
