The Indigo Spell (Bloodlines, #3)(17)

"No," I admitted.

Adrian's lips were a breath away. "Then we'll meet in two hours by the hotel's service door." I gave a weak nod, and he stepped back, releasing my hands. "Here's one last sign of good relations." With a bow that could've come straight out of a Jane Austen novel, he gestured to the bar and spoke loudly. "Thank you for the dance. May I escort you to get a drink?"

I followed without a word, my head spinning with what I'd need to do in two hours. At the bar, Adrian astonished me by ordering ginger ale. "Nice restraint," I said, realizing he'd need to stay sober to work spirit. I hoped he hadn't indulged too much already. For him, the only thing better than an open bar would be a case of cigarettes showing up at his door.

"I'm a master of self-control," he declared.

I wasn't so sure of that but didn't contradict him. I sipped my Diet Coke, and we stood there in comfortable silence. Two Moroi men sidled up the bar near us, talking with the volume and exuberance of those who hadn't held back on sampling free liquor.

"Well, no matter how liberal that girl is, she's certainly easy on the eyes," one guy said. "I could look at her all day, especially in that dress."

His friend nodded. "Definitely an improvement over Tatiana. Too bad about what happened to her, but maybe a change of scenery was for the best. Did that woman ever smile?" They both laughed at the joke.

Beside me, Adrian's own smile vanished, and he went perfectly still. Tatiana, the former Moroi queen, had been Christian's great-aunt. She'd been viciously murdered this summer, and though Adrian rarely spoke about her, I'd heard from a number of people that they'd been close. Adrian's lips twisted into a snarl, and he started to turn around. Without hesitation, I reached out and grabbed his free hand, holding it tightly.

"Adrian, don't," I said softly.

"Sydney, they can't say that." There was a dangerous look in his eyes, one I'd never seen.

I squeezed his hand harder. "They're drunk, and they're stupid. They're not worth your time. Please don't start a scene here - for Sonya's sake." I hesitated. "And for me."

His face was still filled with rage, and for a moment, I thought he would ignore me and throw a glass at one of those guys. Or worse. I'd seen angry spirit users, and they were terrifying. At last, that fury faded, and I felt his hand relax in mine. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, they were dazed and unfocused.

"No one really knew her, Sydney." The sorrow in his voice broke my heart. "They all thought she was some draconian bitch. They never knew how funny she was, how sweet she could be. You can't . . . you can't imagine how much I miss her. She didn't deserve to die like that. She was the only one who understood me - even more than my own parents. She accepted me. She saw the good in my soul. She was the only one who believed in me."

He was standing in front of me, but he wasn't with me. I recognized the rambling, consuming nature of spirit. It messed with its users' minds. Sometimes it made them scattered and distant, like he was now. Sometimes it challenged people's grip on reality. And sometimes, it could create a despair with devastating consequences.

"She wasn't the only one," I told him. "I believe in you. She's at peace, and nothing they say can change who she was. Please come back to me."

He still stared off into someplace I couldn't follow. After a few frightening moments, he blinked and focused on me. His expression was still sad, but at least he was in control again. "I'm here, Sage." He removed his hand and glanced around to make sure no one had seen me holding it. Thankfully, the bride and groom had taken to the dance floor, and everyone was too mesmerized watching them. "Two hours."

He knocked back the rest of his drink and walked away. I watched him until he disappeared into the crowd, and then I returned to my own table, glancing at the clock along the way Two hours.

Ian jumped out of his seat at my approach. "Are you okay?"

No Moroi well-wishers were around, so only Stanton was nearby to hear him. She seemed to share his concern. "I'm sorry you had to endure that, Miss Sage. As always, your dedication to our work is admirable."

"I do what I can to help, ma'am," I said. I was still worried about Adrian and hoped he wouldn't slip back into spirit's grip again.

"Did he hurt you?" asked Ian, pointing. "Your hands?"

I looked down and realized I'd been rubbing my hands together. They were warm from where Adrian had touched me. "Huh? Oh, no. Just, um, trying to rub the taint off. In fact . . . I should probably go wash up. Be right back."

They seemed to find this a perfectly reasonable idea and didn't stop me as I hurried to the restroom. Free of their concern, I breathed a sigh of relief. I'd dodged two bullets here, by not letting the Alchemists know that I was friendly with a vampire and also that I was plotting magic with him.

"Sydney?"

I was so distracted when walking out of the restroom that I hadn't noticed Rose standing nearby with Dimitri Belikov. They stood arm in arm, smiling at my surprise. I hadn't seen Dimitri tonight, and his black and white guardian attire told me why. He was on duty here and had undoubtedly been one of the shadows darting among the trees of the greenhouse, keeping a watch on everyone. He must be on a break now because there was no way he'd be standing so casually here, even with Rose, otherwise. And really, "casual" for Dimitri meant he could still leap into battle at any moment.