The Indigo Spell (28 page)

And I was about to do something drastic. I hadn’t told Marcus and the gang because
I’d been afraid they really would stop me. When I got back to Amberwood, I went straight
to my room and dialed Stanton. She answered on the first ring, which I took as a divine
sign that I was doing the right thing.

“Miss Sage, this is unexpected. Did you enjoy the services?”

“Yes,” I said. “They were very enlightening. But that’s not why I’m calling. We have
a situation. The Warriors of Light are looking for Jill.” I wasn’t going to waste
any time.

“Why on earth would they do that?” She sounded legitimately surprised, but if there
was one thing in all of this that I believed wholeheartedly, it was that the Alchemists
were exceptional liars.

“Because they know if Jill’s whereabouts got out, it could throw the Moroi into chaos.
Their focus is still on the Strigoi, but they wouldn’t mind seeing thing go bad for
the Moroi.”

“I see.” I always wondered if she paused to gather her thoughts or if it was simply
for effect. “And how exactly did you learn this?”

“That guy I know who used to be with the Warriors. We’re still friendly, and he’s
been having doubts about them. He mentioned hearing them talk about finding a missing
girl that could cause all sorts of trouble.” Maybe it was wrong to drag Trey into
this lie, but I seriously doubted Stanton would interrogate him anytime soon.

“And you assume this is Miss Dragomir?”

“Come on,” I exclaimed. “Who else would it be? Do you know any other Moroi girls?
Of course it’s her!”

“Calm down, Miss Sage.” Her voice was flat and untroubled. “There’s no need for theatrics.”

“There’s a need for action! If they might be on to her, then we need to get out of
Palm Springs immediately.”

“That,” she said crisply, “is not an option. A lot of planning went into getting her
to her current location.”

I didn’t believe that argument for a second. Half our job was doing damage control
and adapting to rapidly changing situations. “Yeah? Well, did you also plan on those
psycho vampire hunters finding her?”

Stanton ignored the jab. “Do you have any evidence at all that the Warriors actually
have concrete data about her? Did your friend supply you with details?”

“No,” I admitted. “But we still need to do something.”

“There’s no ‘we’ here.” Her voice had gone from flat to icy. “
You
do not decide what we do.”

I nearly protested and then caught myself. Horror set in. What had I just done? My
initial intent had been to either get Stanton to take legitimate action or else find
out if she might accidentally reveal knowledge of a Warrior connection. I’d thought
mentioning Trey would give me valid backup since I could hardly tell her the real
reason I feared for Jill. Yet, somehow, I’d gone from a request to a demand. I’d practically
yelled an order at her. That wasn’t typical Sydney behavior. That wasn’t typical Alchemist
behavior. What had Wade said?
You’re leaving a trail of bread crumbs.

Was this because I’d broken the tattoo?

This was no crumb. This was a full loaf. I was on the verge of insubordination, and
my mind could suddenly imagine that list Marcus kept warning about, the one that kept
track of every suspicious thing I did. Was Stanton already updating that list right
now?

I had to fix this, but how? How on earth did I take this back? My mind was racing
frantically, and it took several moments for me to calm down and start thinking logically.
The mission. Focus on the mission. Stanton would understand that.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” I said at last.
Be calm. Be deferential.
“I’m just . . . I’m just so worried about this mission. I saw my dad at the services,
you know.” That would be a fact she could check on. “You had to have seen how it was
that night I left. How bad things are between us. I . . . I have to make him proud.
If things fall apart here, he’ll never forgive me.”

She didn’t respond, so I prayed that meant she was listening intently . . . and believing
me.

“I want to do a good job here. I want to fulfill our goals and keep Jill hidden. But
there have already been so many complications no one predicted—first Keith and then
the Warriors. I just never feel like she’s fully safe now, even with Eddie and Angeline.
It eats at me. And—” I was no actress who could muster tears, but I did my best to
make my voice crack. “And
I
never feel safe. I told you, when I asked to go to the services, how overwhelming
it is with the Moroi. They’re everywhere—and the dhampirs too. I eat with them. I’m
in class with them. Being with other Alchemists this last weekend was a lifesaver.
I mean, I’m not trying to dodge my duties, ma’am. I understand we have to make sacrifices.
And I’ve gotten better around them, but sometimes the stress is just unbearable—and
then when I heard this thing about the Warriors, I cracked. All I could think about
was that I might fail. I’m sorry, ma’am. I shouldn’t have flipped out on you. I was
out of control, and it was unacceptable.”

I cut off my rant and tensed as I waited for her response. Hopefully I’d given her
enough to dismiss any thoughts of me being a dissident. Of course, I might have just
come off as a totally weak and unstable Alchemist who needed to be pulled from this
mission. If that happened . . . well, maybe I’d have to take Marcus up on Mexico.

Her characteristic pause was especially painful this time. “I see,” she said. “Well,
I’ll take this all into consideration. This mission is of the utmost importance, believe
me. My earlier questioning of your information was not some weakening of our resolve.
Your concerns have been heard, and I will decide the best course of action.”

It wasn’t exactly what I wanted, but hopefully she would be true to her word. I really,
really wanted to believe she was on the up-and-up. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Is there anything else, Miss Sage?”

“No, ma’am. And . . . and I’m sorry ma’am.”

“Your apology is noted.”

Click.

I’d paced while I’d talked and now stood staring at the phone. A gut instinct told
me I really had driven Stanton to take some sort of action. The mystery was whether
that action would prove beneficial or catastrophic for me.

Falling asleep was difficult after that, and it had nothing to do with Veronica for
a change. I was too keyed up, too anxious about what had happened with Marcus and
Stanton. I tried to seize that feeling of freedom again, using it to strengthen me.
It was only a spark this time, flickering with my new uncertainties, but it was better
than nothing.

I fell asleep sometime around three. I had a vague sense of a couple hours passing
before I was swept into one of Adrian’s dreams, back in the reception hall. “Finally,”
he said. “I almost gave up checking in. I thought you were going to pull an all-nighter.”
He’d stopped wearing his suit in these dreams, probably because I always showed up
in jeans. Tonight he wore jeans also, along with a plain black T-shirt.

“Me too.” I wrung my hands and began pacing here as well. The nervous energy from
my waking self had carried over into the dream. “A lot of stuff’s kind of happened
tonight.”

The dream felt real, solid. Adrian was sober. “Didn’t you just get back? How much
could’ve happened?”

When I told him, he shook his head in amazement. “Man, Sage. It’s all or nothing with
you. Never a dull moment.”

I came to a halt in front of him and leaned against a table. “I know, I know. Do you
think I just made a huge mistake? God, maybe Marcus was right, and there was some
compulsion forcing me to be loyal in the tattoo. I’m free for one hour and completely
go over the edge with my superior.”

“It sounds like you covered your tracks,” he said, though a small frown appeared on
his face. “But I would be disappointed if they sent you somewhere less stressful.
That seems like it might be the worst-case scenario from everything you said.”

I started laughing, but it was the hysterical kind. “What in the world’s happened
to me? I was doing crazy stuff way before Marcus broke the tattoo tonight. Meeting
with rebels, chasing evil sorceresses, even buying that dress! Yelling at Stanton
is just one more thing on a long list of insanity. It’s just like I said at Pies and
Stuff: I don’t know who I am anymore.”

Adrian smiled and clasped my hands, taking a few steps toward me. “Well, first off,
I’m
the expert in insanity, and this is nothing. And as for who you are, you’re the same
beautiful, brave, and ridiculously smart caffeinated fighter you’ve been since the
day I met you.” Finally, he put “beautiful” at the top of his list of adjectives.
Not that I should have cared.

“Sweet talker,” I scoffed. “You didn’t know anything about me the first time we met.”

“I knew you were beautiful,” he said. “I just hoped for the rest.”

He always got this glint in his eyes when he complimented my looks, like he was seeing
so much more than just my actual appearance. It was disorienting and heady . . . but
I didn’t mind. And that wasn’t the only thing I suddenly found overwhelming. How had
he gotten so close to me without me even realizing it? It was like he had secret stealth
abilities. His hands were warm on mine, our fingers locked together. I still had remnants
of that earlier joy within me, and being connected to him amplified those feelings.
The green of his eyes was as lovely as usual, and I wondered if mine had the same
effect on him. There was a little amber mixed with the brown that he had once said
looked like gold.

He’s the only one who never tells me to do anything,
I realized. Oh, sure, he asked me to do lots of things, often with cajoling and fast
talking. But he made no demands on me, not like the Alchemists or Marcus. Even Jill
and Angeline tended to preface their requests with, “You have to . . .”

“Speaking of that dress,” he added, “I still haven’t seen it.”

I laughed softly. “You couldn’t handle it.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “Is that a challenge, Sage? I can handle a lot.”

“Not if our history is any indication. Each time I wear some moderately attractive
dress, you lose it.”

“That’s not exactly true,” he said. “I lose it no matter what you’re wearing. And
that red dress was not ‘moderately attractive.’ It was like a piece of heaven here
on earth. A red, silky piece of heaven.”

I should’ve rolled my eyes. I should’ve told him I wasn’t here for his personal entertainment.
But there was something in the way he was looking at me and something in the way I
felt tonight that made me want to see his reaction. Breaking the tattoo hadn’t affected
anything between us, but it—and the deeds I’d done this weekend—had left me feeling
bold. For the first time, I wanted to take a risk with him, despite my usual set of
logical arguments. Besides, there was nothing dangerous in letting him look.

I manipulated the dream the way he’d taught me. A few moments later, the lacy minidress
replaced my jeans and blouse. I even summoned the heels, which bumped my height up.
I was still nowhere near as tall as him, but the small boost brought our faces closer
together.

His eyes widened. Still holding my hands, he took a step back so that he could take
in the whole look. There was almost something tangible to the way his gaze swept my
body. I could practically feel every place it touched. By the time his eyes reached
mine again, my breathing was heavy, and I was acutely aware that there really wasn’t
that much clothing between the two of us. Maybe there was something dangerous in letting
him look after all.

“A piece of heaven?” I managed to ask.

He slowly shook his head. “No. The other place. The one I’m going to burn in for thinking
what I’m thinking.”

He’d moved toward me again. His hands released mine and moved to my waist, and I noticed
I wasn’t the only one breathing heavily. He pulled me to him, bringing our bodies
together. The world was all heat and electricity, thick with tension that was only
one spark away from exploding around us. I was balancing on another precipice, which
wasn’t easy to do in heels.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, and this time I was the one who drew him closer.
“Damn,” he murmured.

“What?” I asked, never taking my eyes off his.

He ran his hands over my hips. “I’m not supposed to kiss you.”

“It’s okay.”

“What is?”

“It’s okay if I kiss you.”

Adrian Ivashkov wasn’t easy to surprise, but I surprised him then when I brought his
mouth toward mine. I kissed him, and for a moment, he was too stunned to respond.
That lasted for, oh, about a second. Then the intensity I’d come to know so well in
him returned. He pushed me backward, lifting me so that I sat on the table. The tablecloth
bunched up, knocking over some of the glasses. I heard what sounded like a china plate
crash against the floor.

Whatever logic and reason I normally possessed had melted away. There was nothing
but flesh and fire left, and I wasn’t going to lie to myself—at least not tonight.
I wanted him. I arched my back, fully aware of how vulnerable that made me and that
I was giving him an invitation. He accepted it and laid me back against the table,
bringing his body down on top of mine. That crushing kiss of his moved from my mouth
to the nape of my neck. He pushed down the edge of my dress and the bra strap underneath,
exposing my shoulder and giving his lips more skin to conquer. A glass rolled off
and smashed, soon followed by another. Adrian broke off his kissing, and I opened
my eyes. He had an exasperated look on his face.

“A table,” he said. “A goddamned table.”

A few moments later, the table was gone. I was in his apartment, on his bed, and was
glad that I no longer had silverware underneath me. With the venue change complete,
his lips found mine again. The urgency in the way I responded surprised even me. I
never would’ve thought myself capable of a feeling so primal, so removed from the
reason that usually governed my actions. My nails dug into his back, and he trailed
his lips down the edge of my chin, down the center of my neck. He kept going until
he reached the bottom of the dress’s V-neck. I let out a small gasp, and he kissed
all around the neckline, just enough to tease.