A scene from the first book of the Vampire Academy series, as told from Dimitri's
point of view.
“DIMITRI!”
I turned instantly at the sound of
my name, shooting a glare at the guardian approaching in the darkness. What was
he thinking? Everyone out here tonight knew how essential secrecy was. It
didn’t matter that he was young and simply excited about his first big mission.
We had no room for errors, not when this was the only break we’d had in over a
year. Realizing his mistake, he grew apologetic, though not nearly enough.
“Sorry.”
He dropped his voice to a stage whisper and tapped his ear. “Headset’s not
working. We checked the house, and they’re already gone. They must have had
warning, maybe a perimeter of spies on the streets.” As his excitement
returned, the young guardian—Laurence—began speaking rapidly. “I was thinking
about it. They probably have a whole network of people working with them! It
makes sense, right? How else have they managed to stay ahead of us for so long?
There’s no telling how deep this conspiracy goes! We might be facing an army
tonight!”
I
said nothing and showed nothing as I mulled over his words. It was something of a mystery how a couple
of teenage girls had managed to escape detection for two years, especially when
one of them was a privileged Moroi princess and the other a delinquent dhampir
with a disciplinary file so long that it broke school records. When I’d joined
the teaching staff of St. Vladimir’s last year and learned of the princess’s
case, I’d honestly been surprised the girls hadn’t slipped up sooner. Being in
league with others might explain how they’d remained hidden . . . and yet, in all our data gathering, we’d
never once had even the slightest hint that they had one accomplice, let alone “a whole network” or “army.”
My
silence made Laurence nervous, and he no longer smiled. “It’s irrelevant now,”
I told him. “And there’s no point jumping to conclusions when—”
“Dimitri?”
A female voice crackled in my earpiece. “We’ve got visuals on them. They’re
approaching the intersection of Brown and Boudreaux, from the north.”
Without
another word to Laurence, I turned and headed toward the streets indicated. I
heard him running after me, but his stride was shorter, and he couldn’t quite
keep up. I tried to force calm as my heart rate increased, but it was
difficult. This was it. This was it.
We might finally have her: Vasilisa Dragomir, the missing princess, last of her
line. Although I knew all guardian work was honorable—including the instruction
of future guardians—part of me had longed for something more at St. Vladimir’s.
When I’d learned about the Dragomir princess and how she’d escaped the school,
I’d made finding her a personal project, pushing leads that others had said
were hopeless.
Me?
I didn’t believe in hopeless.
I
slowed my pace as the intersection neared, allowing Laurence to catch up. A
quick scan revealed the dark shapes of other guardians lurking in shadows and
behind objects. This was the spot they’d chosen for the interception. Quickly,
I stepped off the road and hid in the cover of a tree, urging Laurence to do
the same with a jerk of my head. We didn’t have to wait long. As I peered
around the tree’s edge, I saw two female figures approaching, one practically
dragging the other along. At first, I assumed it must be the stronger dhampir
helping the princess, but as they grew closer, their heights and builds
revealed that it was exactly the opposite.
I
had no time to ponder this oddity. When they were about six feet from me, I
quickly stepped out from the tree and blocked their path. They came to a halt,
and whatever weaknesses the dhampir girl had now vanished. She grabbed the
princess roughly by the arm and jerked her back, so that the dhampir’s own body
served as a shield keeping me away. Around us, other guardians fanned out,
taking defensive positions but not advancing without my command. The dhampir
girl’s dark eyes made note of them, but she kept her attention focused squarely
on me.
I
didn’t entirely know what to expect from her, maybe that she’d try to run away
or beg for her freedom. Instead, she shifted into an even more defensive
position in front of the princess and spoke in a voice that was barely more
than a growl: “Leave her alone. Don’t touch her.”
The
girl was hopelessly outmatched yet still defiant, as though I were the one at a disadvantage. In
moments like these, I was glad my old instructors in Russia had grilled me into
concealing my feelings—because I was surprised. Very surprised. And as I took
this dhampir girl in, I suddenly understood with perfect clarity how they’d
eluded us for so long. A network of accomplices? An army? Laurence was a fool.
The princess didn’t need a network or army, not when she had this protector.
Rose
Hathaway.
There
was a passion and intensity that radiated off of her, almost like a palpable
thing. Tension filled every part of her body as she regarded me, daring me to
make a move. She possessed a fierceness I hadn’t expected—that no one had
expected, I realized, most likely because they couldn’t see past that
delinquent record of hers. But there was a look in her eyes now that said this
was no joke, that she would die a thousand times over before she let anyone
harm the princess at her back. She reminded me of a cornered wildcat, sleek and
beautiful—but fully capable of clawing your face out if provoked.
And
yes, even in the poor lighting, I could see that she was beautiful—in a deadly
way—and that struck me too. Her pictures hadn’t done her justice. Long, dark
hair framed a face filled with the sort of hard-edged beauty a man might easily
dash his heart against. Her eyes, though filled with hatred for me, still
managed to be alluring—which only added to her danger. She might be unarmed,
but Rose Hathaway was in possession of many weapons.
I
didn’t want to fight her and held out my hands in a placating gesture as I took
a step forward. “I’m not going to—”
She
attacked.
I
saw it coming and wasn’t surprised by the action itself so much as that she’d
even try it with the odds stacked against her. Should I have been surprised?
Probably not. As I’d observed, it was clear that Rose was willing to do
anything and fight anyone to protect her friend. I admired that—I admired that a lot—but it didn’t stop me from
striking out to block her. The princess was still my goal tonight. And although
Rose might have passion and defiance, her attack was clumsy and easy to
deflect. She’d been gone too long from formal training. She recovered badly and
started to fall, and I remembered how she’d stumbled earlier. Out of instinct,
I reached out and caught her before she could hit the ground, keeping her
steady on her feet. That long, marvelous hair fell away from her face,
revealing two bloody marks on the side of her neck. Another surprise—but it
explained her fatigue and pale complexion. Apparently her devotion to the
princess went beyond just defense. Noticing my scrutiny, Rose knocked some of
her tangled hair forward to cover her neck.
Despite
the hopelessness of her situation, I could see her lithe body preparing for
another attack. I tensed in response, even though I didn’t want this brave,
beautiful, and wild girl to be my enemy. I wanted her as . . . what? I wasn’t
sure. Something more than an outmatched scuffle on a Portland street. There was
too much potential here. This girl could be unstoppable if her talents were
properly cultivated. I wanted to help her.
But
I would fight her if I had to.
Suddenly,
Princess Vasilisa caught hold of her friend’s hand. “Rose. Don’t.”
For
a moment, nothing happened, and we all stood frozen. Then, slowly, the tension
and hostility eased out of Rose’s body. Well, not all of the hostility. There
was still a dangerous glint in her eyes that kept me on guard. The rest of her
body language said that although she hadn’t exactly admitted defeat , she had
conceded to a truce—so long as I gave her no cause for alarm.
I
didn’t plan to. I also don’t plan on ever
underestimating you again, wild girl, I thought, momentarily locking eyes
with her. And I’ll make sure no one else
ever underestimates you either.
Satisfied
that she was pacified—at least momentarily—I dragged my eyes from her dark gaze
and focused on the princess. After all, runaway or not, Vasilisa Dragomir was
the last of a royal line, and certain protocols had to be followed. I bowed
before her.
“My
name is Dimitri Belikov. I’ve come to take you back to St. Vladimir’s Academy,
Princess.”
