The Golden Lily (Bloodlines, #2)(30)

The bunker came back to me, and I recalled how one vampire deal had landed Keith in Reeducation.

How much worse was I? Social interaction was an inevitable part of this assignment, but I was blurring all the lines around it again.

"Okay," I said. "I'll do it. E-mail me what time you need to leave." That's when the funniest part came. He looked totally floored. "Really?" I couldn't help but laugh. "You gave me that whole pitch and didn't really think I'd agree, did you?"

"No," he admitted, still clearly amazed. "I can't always tell with you. I cheat with people, you know. I mean, I'm good at reading faces, but I pick up a lot from auras and act like I just have amazing insight. I haven't learned to totally understand humans, though. You've got the same colors but a different feel."

Auras didn't weird me out as much as other vampire magic, but I still wasn't entirely comfortable with them. "What color is mine?"

"Yellow, of course."

"Of course?"

"Smart, analytic types usually have yellow. You've got a little purple here and there, though." Even in the dimness, I could see a mischievous spark in his eyes. "That's what makes you interesting."

"What's purple mean?"

Adrian put his hand on the door. "Gotta go, Sage. Don't want to keep Dorothy waiting."

"Come on. Tell me what purple is." I was so curious, I nearly grabbed his arm.

He turned the knob. "I will if you want to join us."

"Adrian - "

Laughing, he disappeared inside the room and shut the door. With a shake of my head, I started to return to the others and then decided to seek out my Diet Coke after all. I lingered with it in the kitchen for a while, leaning against the granite countertops and staring absentmindedly at the brilliant copper pots hanging from the ceiling. Why had I agreed to drive Adrian?

What was it about him that managed to crack all the propriety and logic I built my life around? I understood why I often had a soft spot for Jill. She reminded me of my younger sister, Zoe. But Adrian? He wasn't like anyone I knew. In fact, I was fairly certain there was no one in the entire world quite like Adrian Ivashkov.

I delayed so long that when I returned to the living room, Adrian was on his way back too.

I sat down on the couch, nursing the last of my Diet Coke. Sonya brightened upon seeing me.

"Sydney, we just had a wonderful idea."

Maybe I wasn't always the quickest in picking up social cues, but I did notice this wonderful idea was addressed to me, and not Adrian and me.

"We were just talking about the reports from the night of the... incident." She gave Clarence a meaningful look, and I nodded in understanding. "Both the Moroi and the Alchemists said the Strigoi had trouble with your blood too, correct?" I stiffened, not liking this at all. It was a conversation I'd lived in fear of. The Strigoi who'd killed Lee hadn't just had "trouble" with my blood. Lee's had tasted strange to them. Mine had been disgusting. The one who'd tried to drink from me hadn't been able to tolerate it at all.

She'd even spit it out.

"Yes..." I said carefully.

"Obviously, you're not a restored Strigoi," said Sonya. "But we'd like to take a look at your blood too. Maybe there's something about it that could help us. A small sample should suffice." All eyes were on me, even Clarence's. The room started to close in as a familiar panic filled me. I had thought a lot about why the Strigoi hadn't liked my blood - actually, I'd tried to avoid thinking about it. I didn't want to believe there was anything special about me. There couldn't be. I didn't want to attract anyone's attention. It was one thing to facilitate these experiments and another to actually be a subject. If they wanted me for one test, they might want me for something else. And then something else. I'd end up locked away, poked and prodded.

There was also the fact that I just didn't want to give up my blood. It didn't matter that I liked Sonya and Dimitri. It didn't matter that the blood would be drawn with a needle, not teeth. The basic concept was still there, a taboo stemming from the most rudimentary of Alchemist beliefs: giving blood to vampires was wrong. It was my blood. Mine. No one - especially vampires - had any business with it.

I swallowed, hoping I didn't look like I wanted to bolt. "It was only one Strigoi's opinion.

And you know they don't like humans as well as... you guys." That was part of why the Moroi lived in such fear and had seen their numbers reduced over time. They were the creme de la creme of Strigoi cuisine. "That's probably all it was."

"Perhaps," said Sonya. "But there's no harm done in checking." Her face was alight with this new idea. I hated turning her down... but my principles on this matter were too strong. It was everything I'd been raised to believe.

"I think it's a waste of time," I said. "We know spirit has to be involved, and I have no connection to that."

"I do think it would be helpful," she said. "Please."

Helpful? From her point of view, yes. She wanted to rule out every possibility. But my blood had nothing to do with Strigoi conversions. It couldn't.

"I... I'd rather not." A tame response, considering the emotions churning inside me. My heart was starting to race, and the walls were still closing in on me. My anxiety increased as I was visited by an old feeling, the awful realization that I was outnumbered here at Clarence's.