The Golden Lily (Bloodlines, #2)(40)

I didn't have the same longing for water that a magic user like Jill possessed, but I had been living in the desert for almost two months. This was amazing.

I was so transfixed with the beauty outside that I didn't notice Adrian's return. In fact, I didn't even notice he was standing right beside me until a mother calling for her daughter -

also named Sydney - made me glance aside. There, I saw Adrian only inches away, watching me with amusement.

I flinched and stepped back a little. "How about some warning next time?" He smiled. "I didn't want to interrupt. You looked happy for a change."

"For a change? I'm happy lots of times."

I knew Adrian well enough to recognize the sign of an incoming snarky comment. At the last second, he changed course, his expression turning serious. "Does that guy - that Brendan guy - "

"Brayden."

"Does that Brayden guy make you happy?"

I looked at Adrian in surprise. These kinds of questions were almost always a setup from him, but his neutral face made it hard to guess his motives this time.

"I guess," I said at last. "Yeah. I mean, he doesn't make me unhappy." That brought Adrian's smile back. "Red-hot answer if ever there was one. What do you like about him? Aside from the car? And that he smells like coffee?"

"I like that he's smart," I said. "I like that I don't have to dumb myself down around him." Now Adrian frowned. "You do that a lot for people?"

I was surprised at the bitterness in my own laugh. "'A lot?' Try all the time. Probably the most important thing I've learned at Amberwood is that people don't like to know how much you know. With Brayden, there's no censoring for either of us. I mean, just look at this morning.

One minute we were talking Halloween costumes, the next we were discussing the ancient Athenian origins of democracy."

"I'm not going to claim to be a genius, but how the hell did you make that leap?"

"Oh," I said. "Our Halloween costumes. We're dressing Greek. From the Athenian era."

"Of course," he said. And this time, I could tell the snark was about to return. "No sexy cat costumes for you. Only the most dignified, feminist attire will do." I shook my head. "Feminist? Oh, no. Not Athenian women. They're about as far from feminist as you can - well, forget it. It's not really important." Adrian did a double take. "That's it, isn't it?" He leaned toward me, and I nearly moved back... but something held me where I was, something about the intensity in his eyes.

"What?" I asked.

He pointed at me. "You stopped yourself just now. You just dumbed it down for me." I hesitated only a moment. "Yeah, I kind of did."

"Why?"

"Because you really don't want to hear about ancient Athens, any more than you wanted to hear Brayden talk about Chaos Theory."

"That's different," said Adrian. He hadn't moved away and was still standing so, so close to me. It seemed like that should've bothered me, but it didn't. "He's boring. You make learning fun. Like a children's book or after school special. Tell me about your... um, Athenian women." I tried not to smile. I admired his intentions here but knew he really wasn't up for a history lesson. Again, I wondered what game was going on. Why was he pretending to be interested?

I tried to compose an answer that would take less than sixty seconds.

"Most Athenian women weren't educated. They mostly stayed inside and were just expected to have kids and take care of the house. The most progressive women were the hetaerae.

They were like entertainers and high-class prostitutes. They were educated and a little flashier.

Powerful men kept their wives at home to raise children and then hung out with hetaerae for fun." I paused, unsure if he'd followed any of that. "Like I said, it's not really important."

"I don't know," said Adrian thoughtfully. "I find prostitutes vastly important."

"Well. How refreshing to see that things haven't changed," a new voice cut in.

We both flinched and looked up at the scowling man who had just joined us.

Adrian's father had arrived.




THOSE OF US WHO KNEW what to look for could instantly spot Moroi by their pale complexions and tall, slim builds. To most human eyes, those features stood out but weren't a vampire tip-off. Humans just noted the features as striking and unusual, much as Lia regarded Jill as the perfect ethereal runway form. I didn't want to play upon stereotypes, but after a quick assessment of Mr. Ivashkov's Moroi-paleness, long face, dour look, and silver hair, I kind of wondered that he didn't get mistaken for a vampire more often. No, vampire wasn't really the correct term, I decided. More like undertaker.

"Dad," said Adrian stiffly. "Always a pleasure."

"For some of us." His father studied me, and I saw his eyes fall on my cheek. He extended a hand. I took it, proud that shaking hands with Moroi was a non-event for me now. "Nathan Ivashkov."

"Sydney Sage," I replied. "It's very nice to meet you, sir."

"I met Sage while I was bumming around out here," explained Adrian. "She was nice enough to give me a ride from ll.A. today since I don't have a car." Nathan looked at me in astonishment. "That's a long drive." Not nearly as long as the drive from Palm Springs, but we'd figured it would be safest - and more believable - to let him think Adrian was in Los Angeles.