Although I understood why she was upset, I couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt. “I did it for us. For our anniversary. I thought you’d like it.”

“What I’d like is for my husband to stay sane,” she snapped back.

“Well, we’re long past that,” I said.

She doesn’t know the half of it, remarked Aunt Tatiana.

Sydney crossed her arms and sat on the bed. “See? There you go. Making a joke of everything. This is serious, Adrian.”

“And I’m being serious. I know what I can handle.”

She met my gaze levelly. “Do you? I still think you’d be better off stopping spirit altogether. Go back on your pills. It’s safest.”

“What about finding Jill?” I reminded her. “What if we need my spirit magic for that?”

Sydney looked away. “Well, it hasn’t been of much use so far. No one’s magic has.”

That last remark was a condemnation of herself as much as of me. Our friend Jill Mastrano Dragomir had been kidnapped a month ago, and so far, our efforts to find her had been for nothing. I hadn’t been able to reach Jill in spirit dreams, nor had Sydney—an adept student of human witchcraft—been able to locate her using the spells at her disposal. The best Sydney’s magic had been able to tell us was that Jill was still alive, but that was it. The general belief was that wherever she was, Jill was being drugged—which could effectively hide someone from both human and Moroi magic. It didn’t stop us from both feeling useless, though. We both cared about Jill immensely—and my relationship with her was particularly intense since I’d once used spirit magic to bring her back from the brink of death. Not knowing what had happened to her now had cast a shadow over Sydney and me—and any attempts at happiness we’d mustered while under this self-imposed house arrest.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “When we do find her, I need my magic. There’s no telling what I’ll need to do.”

“Like fix her acne?” asked Sydney.

I flinched. “I told you, it was nothing! Let me worry about me and how much spirit I can use. It’s not your job.”

She turned incredulous. “Of course it is! I’m your wife, Adrian. If I’m not going to worry about you, who will? You need to keep spirit in check.”

“I can handle it,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Is your aunt still talking to you?” she demanded.

I looked away, refusing to meet her eye. In my head, Aunt Tatiana sighed. You never should have told her about me.

At my silence, Sydney said, “She is, isn’t she? Adrian, that’s not healthy! You have to know that!”

I spun around in anger. “I can handle it. Okay? I can handle it, and I can handle her!” I shouted. “So stop telling me what to do! You don’t know everything—no matter how much you want everyone to think you do!”

Stricken, Sydney took a step back. The pain in her eyes hurt me a lot more than her earlier words had. I felt terrible. How had this day gone so wrong? It was supposed to have been perfect. Suddenly, I needed to get out. I couldn’t stand these four walls anymore. I couldn’t stand my mother’s control. I couldn’t stand feeling like I was always disappointing Sydney—and Jill. Sydney and I had come to Court to seek protection from our enemies, hiding here so we could be together. Lately, it seemed like this arrangement was in danger of tearing us apart.

“I have to get out,” I said.

Sydney’s eyes widened. “To where?”

I raked a hand through my hair. “Anywhere. Anywhere to get some air. Anywhere but here.”

I turned before she could say anything and stormed out through the living room, past where my mom was drinking from the feeder. She gave me a quizzical look, but I ignored it and kept on going until I was out our door and through the lobby of the guest-housing building. It wasn’t until I emerged outside, until the balmy summer air hit my skin, that I paused to evaluate my actions—and pop a piece of gum, which was my current way to avoid smoking when stressed. I stared back up at the building, feeling guilty and cowardly for running out on our fight.

Don’t feel bad, Aunt Tatiana said. Marriage is hard. That’s why I never did it.

It is hard, I agreed. But that’s not an excuse to run away. I need to go back. I need to apologize. I need to work things out.

You’re never going to work things out as long as you’re locked up here and Jill’s still missing, warned Aunt Tatiana.

Two guardians walked past me just then, and I caught a piece of their conversation, mentioning extra patrols for the council meeting going on. I remembered my mom’s earlier comment about that meeting, and inspiration suddenly hit. Turning away from the building, I began hurrying toward what served as the royal palace here at Court, hoping I could get to the meeting in time.

I know what to do, I told Aunt Tatiana. I know how to get us out of here and fix things with Sydney and me. We need a purpose, a goal. And I’m going to get us one. I need to talk to Lissa. If I can make her understand, I can fix everything.

That phantom made no response as I walked. Around me, midnight had clothed the world in darkness—bedtime for humans, prime time for those of us on a vampiric schedule. The Moroi Court was set up like a university: forty or so venerable brick buildings arranged around beautifully landscaped quads and courtyards. It was high summer, warm and humid, and there were a fair number of people out and about. Most were too consumed with their own affairs to notice me or realize who I was. Those who did shot me those same curious looks.




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