Silver Shadows

“I’ve been home for a week,” she said, as though she’d been away on holiday. “Naturally, I’ve been busy getting things back in order there, but you were first and foremost on my mind.”

“How did you know where to find me?” I asked. My location, being tied to Jill’s, was a tightly guarded secret. No one would risk her by revealing me.

Her brow knit. “I received a puzzling message. Anonymous. Said you were ‘going through a tough time’ and needed me. It had your address and strict instructions not to share it, as you were conducting important business for the queen. A little of that’s gotten around—about the work you’ve been doing to protect us from Strigoi. It’s very impressive.”

Going through a tough time. Those were the words Jill had used to defend me last night for forgetting her fashion show. I nearly groaned. No one would risk Jill’s safety to tell my mom where I was—except Jill herself.

“Does anyone know you’re here?” I asked.

“Of course not,” said my mom, looking offended. “I’d never reveal secrets so important to the Moroi’s future. If there’s a way to eradicate the Strigoi, I’ll do my part and help you in yours . . . though, I must admit, darling, you do seem a bit out of sorts.”

If my mom thought we were just doing Strigoi research in Palm Springs, then so be it. She’d hopefully have no reason to give it a second thought now that she’d retrieved me.

“‘Out of sorts’ is putting it lightly,” I told her.

She rested her hand on mine. “What’s wrong? You were dealing so well. I understand you’ve been taking classes again? And doing this work for the queen?”

With a start, I realized I’d never checked on my other two classes. Did I have final exams in them? Culminating projects? Crap. I’d been so stunned over my mom’s arrival and the chance to escape that I’d completely forgotten to follow up at Carlton. I may have blown my last attempt at college success. The pride in her voice touched me, though, and I couldn’t bear to tell her that part of the truth.

“Yeah, I’ve been busy,” I said vaguely.

“Then what’s wrong?” she reiterated.

I met her eyes, seeing the rare compassion few saw. Before her imprisonment, most saw her as prim, aristocratic Daniella Ivashkov, cold and unconcerned with image. I knew her that way as well, but in these rare, shining moments, I also knew her as my mother. And suddenly, I found myself telling the truth . . . or at least a version of it.

“There . . . well, there was a girl, Mom.”

She sighed. “Oh, Adrian. Is that all?”

“It’s not all!” I exclaimed angrily. “She was the girl. The one who changed everything. The one who changed me.”

“All right, all right,” she said, trying to soothe me. “I’m sorry. What happened with her?”

I tried to find some way to accurately convey the truth. “Her family didn’t approve of me.”

Now my mother was angry, assuming, naturally, that I was talking about a Moroi girl. “That’s ridiculous! You come from the finest Moroi bloodlines, on both the Tarus and Ivashkov sides. The queen herself couldn’t ask for better lineage. If this girl’s family has problems with you, then they’re clearly deluded.”

I almost smiled. “Well, that we can agree on.”

“Then what’s the problem? If she’s an adult—oh, Adrian, please tell me she’s an adult and not a minor.”

“She’s an adult.”

Relief flooded my mother’s features. “Then she’s capable of making her own decisions and coming to you, regardless of what her family thinks. And if she stands with them, then she’s not worth your time, and you’re better off without her.”

I wanted to tell her that it wasn’t that simple, but she hadn’t reacted well to me being involved with Rose. A dhampir was unforgiveable. A human was inconceivable.

“I think it had as much to do with me personally as my bloodline,” I said instead.

My mother tsked in disapproval. “Well, we’ll see if she comes around. Who wouldn’t want my boy? In the meantime, I wish you wouldn’t let these things hit you so hard. What is it with you and girls, dear? Why do they either mean nothing to you or everything? It’s always an extreme.”

“Because I don’t do things in halves, Mom. Especially when it comes to love.”

When we landed and I was able to turn on my cell phone, I found a text message waiting from Jill: Yup, it was me. I know you came to Palm Springs for my sake, but I figured it was time for you to change things. When I heard from Lissa that your mom was back, I thought it’d be good for you to see her, so I helped get you two connected. Hope that was okay.

You’re the best, Jailbait, I wrote back.

Her response made me smile: You don’t know the half of it. Your other two classes required final projects, not exams. Trey and I dug around the apartment and found some of your rejected projects to turn in. Not sure if you’ll pass, but some credit is better than no credit.

It figured. Jill had kept track of what was due in my classes when I hadn’t. I started and stopped a lot of projects, so there was no telling what she’d turned in, but in my recent state, it was probably better than anything I would’ve attempted on purpose for those final grades. It was in fate’s hands now.

One thing puzzled me, though, as Dale drove my mom and me to Court. My mom herself had said that she’d been back for a week. Jill had given my address to my mom, which certainly created greater impact with a personal visit, but had it been necessary? Although Jill’s location was a secret, Lissa would have made sure my mom had a secure way to call me as soon as she was free, had my mom asked. Why hadn’t she? It was almost as though my mom had been putting off contacting me, and it wasn’t until Jill called her attention to the problems I was having that my mom had acted. Surely, even if everything was fine with me, my mom would’ve wanted to get in touch right away . . . right?