Bloodlines (Bloodlines #1)(58)

The condos were in a peach stucco building with three floors, two units on each floor. From Adrian's memories, Jill remembered going to the top of the building and turning right. I retraced those steps and came to a blue door with a heavy brass knocker. I knocked.

When no answer came after almost a minute, I tried again more loudly. I was nearly on the verge of a third attempt when I heard the lock unclick. The door opened a crack, and a girl peeked out.

She was clearly Moroi, with a skinny runway model build and pale, perfect skin that seemed particularly irritating today, considering I was pretty sure a pimple was going to break out on my forehead soon. She was my age, maybe a little older, with sleek black hair and deep blue eyes. She looked like some otherworldly doll. She was also half-asleep.

"Yeah?" She looked me over. "Are you selling something?" Next to this tall, perfect Moroi, I suddenly felt self-conscious and frumpy in my linen skirt and button-down top.

"Is Adrian here?"

"Who?"

"Adrian. Tall. Brown hair. Green eyes."

She frowned. "Do you mean Jet?"

"I... I'm not sure. Does he smoke like a chimney?"

The girl nodded sagely. "Yup. You must mean Jet." She glanced behind her and yelled, "Hey, Jet! There's some saleswoman here to see you."

"Send her out," called a familiar voice.

The Moroi opened the door wider and beckoned me in. "He's on the balcony."

I walked through a living room that served as a cautionary tale of what would ever happen if Jill and I lost all sense of housekeeping and self-respect. The place was a disaster. A girl disaster. Laundry piles littered the floor, and dirty dishes covered every square inch that wasn't occupied by empty beer bottles. A knocked-over bottle of nail polish had created a bubblegum pink splotch on the carpet. On the couch, tangled in blankets, a blond Moroi girl peered at me drowsily and then went back to sleep.

Stepping around everything, I made my way to Adrian through a patio door. He stood on a balcony, leaning against its railing, his back to me. The morning air was warm and clear, so naturally, he was trying to ruin it by smoking.

"Tell me this, Sage," he said, without turning back to face me. "Why the hell would someone put a building near the beach but not have the balconies face the water? They were built to look at hills behind us. Unless the neighbors start doing something interesting, I'm ready to declare this structure a total waste."

I crossed my arms and glared at his back. "I'm so glad I've got your valuable opinion on that. I'll be sure and note it when I file my complaint to the city council for their inadequate ocean views."

He turned around, the hint of a smile twisting his lips. "What are you doing here? I figured you'd be in church or something."

"What do you think? I'm here because of the pleas of a fifteen-year-old girl who doesn't deserve what you put her through."

Any trace of a smile vanished. "Oh. She told you." He turned back around.

"Yes, and you all should have told me sooner! This is serious... monumental."

"And no doubt something the Alchemists would love to study." I could envision his sneer perfectly.

"I promised her I wouldn't tell. But you still should've filled me in. It's kind of important information to have since I'm the one who has to babysit all of you."

'"Babysit' is kind of an extreme term, Sage."

"Considering the current scenario? No, not really."

Adrian said nothing, and I gave him a quick assessment. He wore high-quality, dark-washed jeans and a red cotton shirt that must have been slept in, judging from the wrinkles. His feet were bare.

"Did you bring a coat?" I asked.

"No."

I went back inside and did a search among the clutter. The blond Moroi girl was fast asleep, and the one who'd let me in was sprawled on an unmade bed in another room. I finally found Adrian's socks and shoes tossed in a corner. I rushed to retrieve them, then headed back outside and dropped them next to him on the balcony.

"Put those on. We're leaving."

"You aren't my mom."

"No, yours is serving a sentence for perjury and theft, if memory serves."

It was a mean, mean thing to say, but it was also the truth. And it got his attention.

Adrian's head whipped around. Anger glinted in the depths of his green eyes, the first I'd ever truly seen in him. "Don't you ever mention her again. You have no idea what you're talking about."

His anger was a little intimidating, but I held my ground. "Actually, I was the one in charge of tracking down the records she stole."

"She had her reasons," he said through gritted teeth.

"You're so willing to defend someone who was convicted of a crime, yet you don't have any consideration for Jill - who's done nothing."

"I have plenty of consideration for her!" He paused to light a cigarette with trembling hands, and I suspected he was also trying to get a grip on his emotions. "I think about her all the time. How could I not? She's there... I can't feel it, but she's always there, always listening to things in my head, listening to things I don't even want to hear. Feeling things I don't want to feel." He inhaled on the cigarette and turned to look at the view, though I doubted he actually saw it.