The Golden Lily (26 page)

With the clock ticking down on Angeline’s reprieve, we needed to wrap things up shortly thereafter. I was also in charge of taking Adrian home, since we figured it’d be best to eliminate any chance of Dimitri being folowed back to Clarence’s.

Besides, I could tell Dimitri was anxious to begin putting certain things in motion. He wanted to finalize Sonya’s departure and also confer with the guardians—in case Jill needed to be removed. Her face reflected what I felt about that possible outcome. We’d both become attached to Amberwood.

While he was giving some last-minute instructions to Eddie, I puled Sonya aside for a quiet word. “I … I’ve been thinking about something,” I told her.

She studied me carefuly, probably reading my aura and other body language. “What is it?” she asked.

“If you want … if you realy want it, you can have some of my

“If you want … if you realy want it, you can have some of my blood.”

It was a huge, huge admission. Was it something I wanted to do? No. Absolutely not. I still had the same instinctive fears about giving my blood to Moroi, even for scientific purposes.

And yet, yesterday’s events—and even the aley attack—had begun making me re-analyze my worldview. Vampires weren’t the only monsters out there. They were hardly monsters at al, especialy next to these vampire hunters. How could I judge the enemy on race? I was being reminded more and more that humans were just as capable as vampires of evil—and that vampires were capable of good. It was actions that mattered, and Sonya and Dimitri’s were noble ones. They were fighting to destroy the ultimate evil of al, and as squeamish as I felt about giving my blood, I knew the right thing was to help them.

Sonya knew what a sacrifice this was for me. Her face stayed calm—no whoops of joy—and she nodded solemnly. “I have my colection kit here. I can take a sample before you leave, if you’re sure.”

So soon? Wel, why not. It was best to get it over with—

especialy if Sonya would be leaving town soon anyway. We did it in the kitchen, which seemed slightly more sanitary than the living room. Sonya was no doctor, but whatever training she’d had, it was right in line with what I’d observed when getting physicals. Antiseptic, gloves, a new syringe. All the right procedures were folowed, and after a quick poke of the needle, she had my blood sample.

“Thank you, Sydney,” she said, handing me a plastic bandage.

“Thank you, Sydney,” she said, handing me a plastic bandage.

“I know how difficult this must have been for you. Believe me, this could realy help us.”

“I want to help,” I told her. “I realy do.” She smiled. “I know. And we need all the help we can get.

After being one of them …” Her smile faded. “Wel, I believe more than ever that their evil needs to be stopped. You might be the key.” For one second, her words inspired me—that I might somehow play a greater role in the fight against evil and possibly even stop it. Immediately, that thought was replaced by my old panic. No. No. I wasn’t special. I didn’t want to be. I would make a good faith effort to help, but surely nothing would come of it.

I returned to fetch the others. Adrian and Jill were having some earnest conversation in the corner. Eddie and Angeline were also talking, and I overheard her say,

“I’ll stay with Jill more at school, just to be safe. We can’t have her be part of some accident or mistaken identity.” Eddie nodded and looked impressed that she’d suggested it.

“Agreed.” Amazing, I thought.

I left soon with my carpool and swung by downtown to drop Adrian off. As I puled up in front of his building, I saw something that made my jaw drop. Awe and disbelief roled through me. In what was probably the most ungraceful parking job I’d ever done in my life, I brought Latte to an abrupt stop and was out of the car the second I puled my keys from the ignition. The others folowed moments later.

“What,” I breathed. “Is that?”

“Oh,” said Adrian casualy. “That’s my new car.” I took a few steps forward and then stopped, afraid to approach it in the same way someone hesitated before royalty.

“It’s a 1967 Ford Mustang convertible,” I said, knowing my eyes were probably bugging out of my face. I began walking around it. “The year they did a major overhaul and increased the size to keep up with other high-powered competition. See? It’s the first model with the concave tail lights but the last to have the Ford block lettering up front until 1974.”

“What in the world is that color?” asked Eddie, not sounding impressed at al.

“Springtime Yelow,” Adrian and I said in unison.

“I would’ve guessed Lemon Chiffon,” said Eddie. “Maybe you can get it repainted.”

“No!” I exclaimed. I tossed my purse over onto the grass and carefuly touched the car’s side. Brayden’s beautiful new Mustang suddenly seemed so ordinary. “It’s been touched up, obviously, but this is a classic color. Which engine code is this?

C, right?”

“Um … not sure,” said Adrian. “I know it’s got a V-8

engine.”

“Of course it does,” I said. It was hard not to roll my eyes. “A 289. I want to know what the horsepower is.”

“It’s probably in the paperwork,” Adrian said lamely.

It was at that moment that I realy processed Adrian’s earlier It was at that moment that I realy processed Adrian’s earlier words. I looked up at him, knowing my face must be filed with disbelief. “This is realy your car?”

“Yup,” he said. “I told you. The old man spotted me the money for one.”

“And you got this one?” I peered in through the window.

“Nice. Black interior, manual transmission.”

“Yeah,” said Adrian, a note of unease in his voice. “That’s the problem.”

I glanced back. “What is? The black is great. And the leather’s condition is fantastic. So is the rest of the car.”

“No, not the interior. The transmission. I can’t drive a stick.” I froze. “You can’t drive a stick?”

“Neither can I,” said Jil.

“You don’t have a license,” I reminded her. Although, my mother had taught me to drive before I had a license—both automatic and manual transmission. I knew I shouldn’t be surprised the stick was a lost art, as savage as such a lack seemed to me. That paled, of course, in comparison to the other obvious problem. “Why on earth would you buy a car like this if you can’t drive a stick? There are dozens of cars—new cars—

that have automatic transmission. It’d be a milion times easier.” Adrian shrugged. “I like the color. It matches my living room.” Eddie snorted.

“But you can’t drive it,” I pointed out.

“I figure it can’t be that hard.” Adrian sounded remarkably unconcerned about what I found blasphemous. “I’ll just practice taking it around the block a few times and figure it out.” taking it around the block a few times and figure it out.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “What? Are you out of your mind? You’ll ruin it if you don’t know what you’re doing!”

“What else am I supposed to do?” he asked. “Are you going to teach me?”

I turned back to the beautiful Mustang. “Yes,” I said adamantly. “If that’s what it takes to save it from you.”

“I can show you too,” said Eddie.

Adrian ignored him and focused on me. “When we can start?” I ran through my school schedule, knowing I’d have to make talking to the Alchemists about the Warriors of Light my top priority. Then, the obvious hit me. “Oh. When we see Wolfe this week. We’ll take this out there.”

“Is that realy to help me?” asked Adrian. “Or do you just want to drive the car?”

“Both,” I said, not embarrassed to admit it.

Angeline’s clock at school was ticking, so the rest of us had to leave. I’d driven three blocks away when I realized I’d left my purse on the grass. With a groan, I looped around and returned to his building. My purse was there, but the Mustang was gone.

“Where’s the car?” I asked, panicked. “No one could have stolen it that fast.”

“Oh,” said Jill from the backseat, sounding slightly nervous. “I saw through the bond. He, um, moved it.” It was handy having the bond as a source of information, but her words made me panic more than if the car actualy had been stolen. “He what?”

“Not far,” she said quickly. “Just behind the building. This

“Not far,” she said quickly. “Just behind the building. This street’s got weird overnight parking rules.” I grimaced. “Wel, I’m glad it won’t get towed, but he should’ve had me move it! Even if it’s not far, he could ruin the transmission.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” said Jil. There was a strange note to her voice.

I didn’t respond. Jill was no car expert. None of them were.

“It’s like letting a toddler loose in a room full of china,” I muttered. “What was he thinking? About any of this?” No one had an answer for that. I got us back to Amberwood in time for Angeline’s curfew and retreated to the sanity and calm of my room. As soon as I was satisfied my friends were safe and secure for the night, I e-mailed Donna Stanton—a high-up Alchemist whom I’d inexplicably developed a good relationship with—about the hunters and what we’d learned. I even took pictures of the pamphlet and e-mailed those as wel. Once that was done, I sat back and tried to think if there was anything else at all I could provide her with that might help.

It was only when I’d exhausted all options (and refreshed my inbox a few times to see if she’d responded already) that I finaly moved on to homework. As usual, I was pretty much caught up on every assignment—save one.

Ms. Terwiliger’s.

That stupid book was on my desk, staring back at me, daring me to open it. I still had a number of days before her spell was due, time during which I could continue to procrastinate. I was due, time during which I could continue to procrastinate. I was beginning to accept, however, that this assignment wasn’t going to go away.

Considering how long some of the prep on these took, maybe it’d be best to bite the bulet and get it out of the way.

Resolved, I brought the book over to my bed and opened it to the table of contents, scanning some of the spels she’d gone over with me. My stomach twisted at most of them, every instinct teling me how wrong it was to even be attempting these.

Magic is for vampires, not humans.

I still believed that to be true, but the analytical part of my mind couldn’t help but apply some of the defensive spels to various situations. Much like my decision to give blood, recent events had made me look at the world differently. Was magic wrong? Yes. But that blindness spell would have certainly been useful in the aley.

Another spell, one that temporarily immobilized people, could’ve been used if I’d wanted to flee from the hunters at the café. Sure, it only lasted thirty seconds, but that was more than enough time for me to have escaped.

On and on, I went down the list. They were all so wrong and yet … so useful. If I hadn’t seen the fire charm I’d made ignite a Strigoi, I wouldn’t have believed any of these were possible. But by all accounts, they were.

So much power … the ability to protect myself …

Immediately, I rebuked myself for such a thought. I had no need for power. That kind of thinking was what led freaks like Liam to want to be Strigoi. Although …

was it realy the same? I didn’t want immortality. I didn’t want to hurt others. I just didn’t want immortality. I didn’t want to hurt others. I just wanted to protect myself and those I cared about. Wolfe had a lot to teach me, but his preventative techniques wouldn’t help if determined vampire hunters cornered Sonya and me again. As time went on, it was becoming clear that the hunters were very determined.

I returned to the table of contents, finding several that would be useful and well within my capabilities to make. According to Ms. Terwiliger, someone like me had excelent potential for magic because of inborn talent (which I didn’t entirely believe) and the rigorous Alchemist training in measurement and attention to detail. It wasn’t difficult to figure out how long it would take me to produce any of these likely candidates.

The question was which spell did I make? Which did I have time to make?

The answer was eerily simple.

I had time to make all of them.

ADRIAN’S CAR DROVE LIKE A DREAM.

When I got behind the wheel, I nearly forgot to check for any pursuit. In fact, I nearly forgot that I was supposed to be taking us to Wolfe’s and showing Adrian how to use a stick shift.

Instead, I was caught up in the way the engine hummed around us and in the scent of the leather. Leaving his neighborhood, I had to restrain myself from flooring it in the crowded streets of downtown Palm Springs. This was a car screaming to be let loose on the open road. I had admired Brayden’s Mustang, but I worshipped this one.

“I feel like I’ve just crashed someone’s date,” Adrian remarked, once we were getting on the highway. No one had tailed us out of downtown, making me feel much safer. “Like I’m intruding on you two. If you want to drop me off somewhere, I’ll understand.”

“Huh?”

I’d been paying careful attention to the way the car built up to higher speeds, both through sound and feel. The Mustang was in stunning shape. People often have the idea that classic cars are expensive. They are—if they’re in good condition. Most aren’t.

expensive. They are—if they’re in good condition. Most aren’t.

When something’s sat around for years without care, it inevitably fals apart, which is why so many older cars are fixer-uppers.

Not Adrian’s. This had been maintained and restored throughout the years and had probably never left the state of California—

meaning it hadn’t faced harsh winters. That all added up to a high price tag, making it that much more ludicrous that Adrian had bought something he couldn’t drive.

I groaned. “I’m sorry … I don’t know what I was thinking.” Wel, I kind of knew. I’d been wondering what my odds of a ticket would be if I broke the speed limit to see how fast we could go. “I should’ve been walking you through this as soon as I started the car. I promise I will when we leave Wolfe’s, all the steps. For now, I guess we can recap the basics. This is the clutch …”

Adrian didn’t seem annoyed by my neglect. If anything, he looked amused and simply listened to my explanations with a small, quiet smile on his face.

Wolfe looked just as disreputable as he had last time, complete with the eye patch and what I suspected were the same Bermuda shorts as before. I hoped he’d done laundry since then. Despite his appearance, he was ready to go when our class assembled and seemed competent in his subject matter.

Although he reminded us again about the importance of avoiding conflicts and being aware of one’s surroundings, he quickly moved past those points and focused on actualy practicing more physical ways of protecting oneself.

Considering how much Adrian had complained last time about Considering how much Adrian had complained last time about the “boring” safety talk, I figured he’d be excited that we were pretty much jumping right into some action. Instead, that amused look from the car vanished, and he grew increasingly tense as Wolfe explained what he wanted us to do in our partnered practice sessions.

When the time actualy came to practice, Adrian looked blatantly unhappy.

“What’s the matter?” I asked. I suddenly remembered last time, when Adrian had freaked out over my “attack.” Maybe he hadn’t realy expected he’d have to work here. “Come on, these are simple. You won’t get dirty.”

Even when teaching more combative actions, Wolfe was still an advocate of keeping things fast and simple. We weren’t trying to learn to beat someone up. These maneuvers were effective means of distracting an assailant so that we could escape. Most were done with the dummies, since we could hardly try to stick fingers in each other’s eyes. Adrian went through those motions diligently, if silently. It was working directly with me that he seemed to have a problem with.

Wolfe noticed it too as he made his rounds. “Come on, boy!

She can’t try to escape if you don’t try to hold her. She’s not going to hurt you, and you won’t hurt her.” The maneuver in question was actualy one that would’ve been helpful the night I’d been grabbed in the aley. So, I was eager to practice it and frustrated that Adrian kept only halfheartedly helping. He was supposed to put an arm around my torso and attempt to cover my mouth. Unfortunately, his efforts torso and attempt to cover my mouth. Unfortunately, his efforts were so weak and his hold so loose that I didn’t need any special techniques to escape. I could have simply walked right out of his arms.

With Wolfe there, Adrian made a slightly better showing as an assailant but immediately resorted to his former ways once we were alone. “Let’s switch,” I said at last, nearly wanting to pull my hair out. “You try to escape me. Make up for last time.” I couldn’t believe that Adrian’s sluggish attitude had turned out to be the problem here. I’d expected the hang-up would be me not wanting to touch a vampire, but it didn’t bother me at al.

I wasn’t thinking of him as a vampire. He was Adrian, and my partner in this class. I needed him to learn the move. It was all very pragmatic. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost say that Adrian was afraid to touch me, which made no sense. Moroi didn’t have those hang-ups. Was something wrong with me?

Why wouldn’t Adrian touch me?

“What’s going on?” I demanded, once we were in the car and headed back to the city. “I get that you’re not an athlete, but what happened in there?” Adrian refused to meet my eyes and instead stared pointedly out the window. “I don’t think this is realy my thing. I was all about playing action hero before, but Adrian refused to meet my eyes and instead stared pointedly out the window. “I don’t think this is realy my thing. I was all about playing action hero before, but now … I don’t know. This is a bad idea. It’s more work than I thought.” There was a flippant, dismissive tone in his voice that I hadn’t heard in a while.

“What happened to you finishing things you started?” I asked.

“What happened to you finishing things you started?” I asked.

“You told me you had changed.”

“That was for art,” said Adrian quickly. “I’m still in those classes, aren’t I? I didn’t jump ship on those. I just don’t want to do this one anymore. Don’t worry. Now that I’ve got more money, I’ll pay you back the class fee. You won’t be out anything.”

“That doesn’t matter,” I argued. “It’s still a waste! Especialy since what Wolfe’s showing us isn’t realy that difficult. We’re not ripping ourselves apart like Eddie and Angeline would. Why is this so hard for you to stick with and learn?” My earlier self-doubt returned. “Do you just not want to work with me? Is there … is there something wrong with me?”

“No! Of course not. Absolutely not,” said Adrian. In my periphery, I saw him finaly look at me. “Maybe there are only so many things I can learn at once. I mean, I’m supposed to also be learning to drive a stick shift. Not that I see that happening.” I wanted to slap myself on the forehead. In my frustration over class, I’d completely forgotten again about showing Adrian how to drive. I felt like an idiot, even though I was still mad at him for giving up on Wolfe. I checked the time. I had things to do tonight at Amberwood but felt obligated to make up for my shoddy teaching.

“We’ll practice once we’re back in your neighborhood,” I promised. “We’ll start slow, and I’ll show you everything you need to do. I might even let you try driving around the block tonight if you seem like you’re paying attention to the lesson.” The transformation in Adrian was remarkable. He went from The transformation in Adrian was remarkable. He went from sulen and uncomfortable to cheerful and energetic. I couldn’t figure it out. Sure, I found cars and driving fascinating, but technicaly speaking, there was a lot more detail to learn about manual transmission than there was in Wolfe’s evasive techniques. Why were those difficult for him, but the clutch was easy?

I stuck around for about an hour when we got back. To his credit, Adrian paid attention to every word I said, although his results were inconsistent whenever I quizzed him or actualy let him try something. Sometimes he’d respond like a pro. Other times, he’d seem totaly lost on things I could have sworn he’d picked up.

By the end of the hour, I felt safe enough with him driving the car at low speeds on empty streets. He was a long way from the highway or stop-and-go traffic of a busy city.

“Looks like we’ve got more lessons in our future,” I told him when we finished. I’d parked the car behind his building, and we were walking back toward the main entrance and Latte. “Do not take that car beyond a half-mile radius. I checked the odometer.

I’ll know.”

“Noted,” he said, still wearing that smirky smile. “When’s the next lesson? You want to come back tomorrow night?”

“Can’t,” I said. “I’m going out with Brayden.” I was surprised at how much I was looking forward to it. Not only did I want to make things up to him after the dance, but I also just wanted a dose of normality—wel, at least the kind of normality Brayden and I had together. Plus, things with Adrian were feeling realy weird

…

weird …

“Oh.” Adrian’s smile fel. “Wel. I understand. I mean, love and romance and all that.”

“We’re going to the textile museum,” I said. “It’s cool, though I’m not sure how much love and romance there’ll realy be there.” Adrian nearly came to a halt. “There’s a textile museum here?

What do people do there?”

“Wel, they look at … um, textiles. There’s actualy a great exhibit on—”

I stopped as we reached the front of the building. There, behind Latte, was a familiar car, the rental that Sonya and Dimitri were using. I looked questioningly at Adrian.

“Were you expecting them tonight?”

“No,” he said, resuming his walk to the door. “They’ve got a key, though, so I suppose they can make themselves at home anytime. They do it a lot, actualy. He eats my food, and she uses my hair stuff.”

I folowed him. “Hopefuly it’s just Dimitri.” After our recent revelations about the hunters, Sonya was pretty much under house arrest. Or so I thought. When we walked into the apartment, she was sitting on the couch. No Dimitri in sight. She glanced up at us from her laptop.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” she said, directing her words to me. “Jill said you two were out and I was hoping to catch you.” Something told me no good would come out of her wanting to Something told me no good would come out of her wanting to

“catch” me, but I had greater concerns. “What are you doing here?” I asked, half-expecting hunters to come through the door.

“You’re supposed to be at Clarence’s until you leave town.”

“Day after tomorrow,” she confirmed. She stood; eyes alight with whatever had driven her here. “But I needed to talk to you now—face-to-face.”

“Day after tomorrow,” she confirmed. She stood; eyes alight with whatever had driven her here. “But I needed to talk to you now—face-to-face.”

“I would’ve come to you,” I protested. “It’s not safe for you to be out.”

“I’m fine,” she said. “I made sure I wasn’t folowed. This was too important.” She was breathless and excited.

More important than being caught by wannabe vampire hunters? Debatable.

Adrian crossed his arms and looked surprisingly disapproving.

“Wel, it’s too late now. What’s going on?”

“We got the results back from Sydney’s blood,” explained Sonya.

My heart stopped. No, I thought. No, no, no.

“Just like with Dimitri’s blood, nothing physiological showed up,” she said. “Nothing unusual with proteins, antibodies, or anything like that.” Relief poured through me. I’d been right. Nothing special about me, no inexplicable properties. And yet … at the same time, I felt a tiny pang of regret. I wasn’t the one who would fix everything.

“We sent it to a Moroi lab this time, not an Alchemist one,” Sonya continued. “One of the researchers—an earth user—felt a hum of earth magic. Just like how Adrian and I felt spirit in hum of earth magic. Just like how Adrian and I felt spirit in Dimitri’s blood. The technician had other types of magic users examine your sample, and all four basic elements were detected.”

That panic returned. She had me on an emotional roler coaster, one that left me nauseous. “Magic … in my blood?” A moment later, I understood. “Of course there is,” I said slowly. I touched my cheek. “The tattoo has vampire blood and magic in it. That’s what it is. There are different degrees of charms in it from different users. That would show up in my blood.” I shivered. Even with a logical explanation, it was a scary thing accepting that there was magic in my blood. Ms.

Terwiliger’s spels were still anathema to me, but at least there was some comfort in knowing they drew magic from outside of me. But knowing I had something internal? That was terrifying. And yet, I couldn’t be surprised at this finding, not with the tattoo. Sonya nodded along. “Yes, of course. But there must be something about that combination that’s repulsive to Strigoi. It may be the key to all of our work!” To my surprise, Adrian took a few steps toward me, and there was a tension in his stance that was fiercely protective.

“So you know Alchemist blood has magic in it,” he said.

“That’s no surprise. Case closed. What do you want from her now?”

“Another sample to start,” said Sonya eagerly. “There’s none left in the original vial I took, once all the testing was done. I know this sounds strange, but it’d also be useful if a Moroi could … wel, taste your blood and see if it has the same could … wel, taste your blood and see if it has the same repulsive quality as it did to Strigoi. Fresh blood would be ideal, but even I’m not deluded enough to ask you to submit to a feeding. We should simply be able to use your sample and—”

“No,” I said. I stumbled backward, horrified. “Absolutely not.

Whether it’s from a neck or a vial, there’s no way I’m giving my blood for anyone to taste. Do you know how wrong that is? I know you do it all the time with feeders, but I’m not one of them.

I should never have given you the first sample. You don’t need me for any of this. Spirit’s the key. Lee’s proof that former Strigoi are the ones you need to examine.” Sonya wasn’t cowed by my outburst. She pushed forward, though her tone was gentler. “I understand your fear, but think of the applications! If something in your blood makes you resistant to Strigoi, then you could save countless lives.”