The Golden Lily

"Pure deliciousness, you mean. I haven't had a good one in ages."

"You're getting off topic," I pointed out.

"Oh. Right. Well, whether I have to go on a slush-based diet or whatever, you'll get your money. And that's the other reason... I'm kind of hoping the old man might agree to up my income.

You probably don't believe it, but I hate always borrowing from you. It's easy for my dad to dodge phone calls, but face-to-face? He can't escape. Plus, he thinks it's more 'manly'

and 'respectable' to ask for something directly. Classic Nathan Ivashkov honor." Once again, the bitterness. Maybe a little anger. I studied Adrian for a long time as I thought about my next response. The hall was dim, giving him the advantage. He could probably see me perfectly while some details were more difficult for me. Those green, green eyes I so often admired in spite of myself simply looked dark now. The pain on his face, however, was all too apparent. He hadn't yet learned to hide his feelings from Jill and the bond, but I knew he kept that lazy, devil-may-care attitude on for the rest of the world - well, for everyone except me lately. This wasn't the first time I'd seen him vulnerable, and it seemed weird to me that I, of all people, was the one he kept baring his emotions to. Or was it weird? Maybe this was just my social ineptitude confusing me again. Regardless, it pulled at something within me.

"Is that really what this is about? The money?" I asked, tucking my other questions aside.

"You don't like him. There has to be something more here."

"The money's a big part. But I meant what I said earlier... about my mom. I need to know how she is, and he won't tell me about her. Honestly, I think he just wants to pretend it never happened - either for that reputation of his or maybe... maybe because it hurts him. I don't know, but like I said, he can't dodge if I'm right there. Plus..." Adrian glanced away a moment before mustering the courage to meet my eyes again. "I don't know. It's stupid. But I thought... well, maybe he'd be impressed that I was sticking to college this time. Probably not, though."

My heart ached for him, and I suspected that last part - earning his dad's approval - was bigger than Adrian was letting on. I knew all about what it was like to have a father who continually judged, whom nothing was ever good enough for. I understood as well the warring emotions... how one day you could say you didn't care, yet be yearning for approval the next.

And I certainly understood motherly attachment. One of the hardest parts of being in Palm Springs was the distance from my mom and sisters.

"Why me?" I blurted out. I hadn't meant to touch on those earlier questions, but I suddenly couldn't help myself. There was too much tension here, too much emotion. "You could've asked Sonya or Dimitri to drive you. They probably would've even let you borrow their rental car."

The ghost of a smile flashed across Adrian's face. "I don't know about that. And I think you know why I don't want to risk being trapped in a car with our Russian friend. As for the rest... I don't know, Sage. There's something about you... you don't judge like the others. I mean, you do. You're more judgmental than any of them in some ways. But there's an honesty to it. I feel..." The smile left his face as he faltered for words. "Comfortable around you, I guess." There was no way I could stand against that, though I find it ironic he was allegedly most comfortable around me when Moroi gave me panic attacks half the time. You don't have to help, an inner voice warned me. You don't owe him anything. You don't owe any Moroi anything that isn't absolutely necessary. Have you forgotten Keith? This isn't a part of your job.

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.