The Indigo Spell (Bloodlines, #3)(15)

"I'm glad we got this chance to be together," Ian told me during a lull in our public relations. "It's so hard with our jobs, you know? I'm in St. Louis now, in the facility archives. Where do they have you?"

Secrecy was key in Jill's protection. "I'm in the field, but I can't say where. You know how it is."

"Right, right. But you know, if you ever wanted to visit . . . I'd show you around."

His desperation was almost cute. "Like for a vacation?"

"Well, yeah. Er, no." He knew as well as I did that Alchemists didn't get vacations easily. "But, I mean, they're doing all the holiday services, you know. If you decide to come to one, well, let me know."

Alchemist priests always conducted special services around Christmas in our main facilities. Some Alchemist families made a point of going to them every year. I hadn't been to any in a while, not with the way my missions kept jumping around.

"I'll keep that in mind."

There was a long pause, and his next words came haltingly. "I'd ask you to dance, you know. Except it wouldn't be right in this kind of unholy setting."

I gave him a stiff smile. "Of course. That, and we're here on business. We've got to focus on building good relationships with them."

Ian had started to respond when a familiar voice interrupted us. "Miss Sage?"

We looked up and found Adrian standing above us, dashing in his shades of blue. His face was the picture of perfect politeness and restraint, meaning something disastrous was probably about to happen.

"It's so nice to see you again," he said. He spoke as though it had been a while, and I nodded in agreement. As I'd assured Stanton, Adrian knew too much familiarity between us might create a trail back to Jill. "Did I just hear you two talking about building good relationships?"

I was tongue-tied, so Ian answered. "That's right. We're here to make things friendlier between our people." His voice, however, was most decidedly unfriendly.

Adrian nodded with all seriousness, like he hadn't noticed Ian's hostility. "I think it's a great idea. And I thought of something that would be an excellent gesture of our future together." Adrian's expression was innocent, but there was a mischievous sparkle in his eye that I knew all too well. He held out his hand to me. "Would you like to dance?"
   





I FROZE. I didn't trust myself to respond.

What was Adrian thinking? Putting aside all the drama between us, it was absolutely unforgivable to ask this here, in front of other Moroi and Alchemists. Maybe in Palm Springs, where things were a little more casual with my friends, it might not be that crazy a request. But here? He risked exposing that we knew each other, which in turn risked Jill. Almost as bad, it could be a tip-off of his feelings for me. Even if I insisted that I had no matching feelings, the fact that things had progressed this far could get me in serious trouble with the Alchemists.

As all these thoughts raced through my mind, a more concerning one suddenly popped up. A good Alchemist shouldn't be worried about any of those things. A good Alchemist would have simply been horrified at the immediate problem: dancing with a Moroi. Touching a vampire. Realizing this, I quickly mustered an outraged expression, hoping I looked convincing.

Fortunately, everyone else was too shocked to pay much attention to me. Good relations only went so far. Stanton and Ian wore legitimate looks of disgust. The Moroi nearby while not appalled, were astonished at the breach of etiquette. And yet . . . I also saw a couple exchange looks that said they weren't entirely surprised Adrian Ivashkov would suggest something so outrageous. This was an attitude I'd seen a lot with him. People often shrugged off his behavior with, "Well, that's Adrian."

Ian found his voice first. "She . . . no! She absolutely can't!"

"Why not?" Adrian glanced between all our faces, his expression still sunny and unassuming. "We are all friends, right?"

Abe, who was rarely shocked by anything, managed to shake off some of his surprise. "I'm sure it's not that big a deal." His tone was uncertain. He knew that Adrian wasn't a total stranger to me but undoubtedly assumed I had the usual Alchemist hang-ups. As tonight had demonstrated, most Alchemists still struggled with handshakes.

Stanton seemed to be waging a mental war. I knew she thought it was an outlandish request . . . yet she was still conscious of the need to keep things pleasant. She swallowed. "Perhaps . . . perhaps it would be a nice gesture." She shot me a sympathetic look that seemed to say, Sometimes you have to take one for the team.

Ian jerked his head toward her. "Are you crazy?"

"Mr. Jansen," she snapped, conveying a stern warning in just his name.

All eyes turned toward me as everyone realized that ultimately, it was my decision. At this point, I didn't know if I should be shocked or scared - and the thought of dancing with Adrian made me feel both. I met Stanton's eyes again and slowly gave a nod. "Sure. Okay. Good relations, right?"

Ian's face turned bright red, but another sharp look from Stanton kept him silent. As Adrian led me to the dance floor, I heard a few whispered comments from curious Moroi mentioning "that poor Alchemist girl" and "there's no predicting what he does sometimes."

Adrian put his arm around my waist, perfectly proper and distant. I tried not to think about the last time I'd been in his arms. Even with appropriate spacing between us, our hands were still clasped, our stances still intimate. I was hyperaware of every single place his fingers rested on my body. His touch was light and delicate but seemed to carry an extraordinary heat and intensity.