“And you drank from her,” I finished. “When she really didn’t know what was going on.”
“I didn’t drink very much.” I could tell from his expression that even he knew it was a lame excuse. “And technically, she drugged herself.”
I swallowed and tried to address it in an objective Alchemist way. “That was beyond careless. You could’ve exposed the vampire world! Our whole job is covering you guys up, and then you just show everyone.”
“I don’t think she remembered.”
“That almost makes it worse.” My objectivity crumbled. “What you did . . . how could you? It doesn’t matter if it wasn’t a drug! No, it was. Alcohol’s as bad as anything you could’ve slipped her. You took advantage of someone who wasn’t in control of herself. It was a violation.”
Pain crossed his features. “Hell, Sydney. I wasn’t in control of myself.”
“You think that justifies it?” I hissed. “And even if it was ‘just one time,’ how many other times did you look the other way while those friends of yours did a lot worse things?”
“They aren’t my friends anymore. And do you think I could’ve really stopped them?”
“Did you even try?” I demanded.
“I was a different person then!” Realizing how loud he’d gotten, Adrian stepped forward and lowered his voice. “You of all people should understand that. Not even a year ago, you were making the sign against evil around us and wouldn’t shake hands because you thought we were the spawn of Satan.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I was right. And don’t even try to compare superstition to . . . to . . . blood rape.”
He winced. “I’m not saying it’s in the same class. I’m saying people change. We grow up, we learn. You know the kind of person I am. You know I wouldn’t even dream of something like that now.”
“Do I?” I tried to summon up as much outrage as I could because if I didn’t, I might start crying. No way would I crack in a room full of Moroi. “Are you saying you wouldn’t drink my blood if you had the chance? That you don’t think about it?”
“No.” He spoke with such certainty that I almost believed him. “The only thing I want from your body is—well, it’s not that. And you should know that.”
I didn’t know that I did. I turned away, trying to come to terms with something that had just knocked my world off-kilter. I had long ago accepted that he had an extensive romantic past. Surprisingly, it didn’t bother me so much anymore. It was before my time. Those girls were gone. He didn’t love them. He’d been free, and if he’d wanted to fool around with girls who wanted to as well, then that was his right.
And yet . . . here he was, admitting to fooling around with a girl who hadn’t wanted to. “Fooling around” was being kind, considering what he’d done. Drinking blood was probably the biggest sin Moroi committed, in Alchemist eyes. I’d made my peace with it, that it was their way of life, but it still made me squeamish. It was nothing I could watch, and I was always relieved when Jill and Adrian finished at Clarence’s. Now, I couldn’t shake the image of him doing that terrible thing. He embodied every fear Alchemists had about monsters stalking unwitting victims.
“Sydney . . .”
The pain in his voice made my heart ache, but I had no words of comfort to offer. I couldn’t even comfort myself. He said he’d changed, but was that enough? Could that make up for something so horrific?
“Sorry I’m late.” Abe strolled in with a dhampir man I didn’t know, giving me something to look at besides Adrian’s grief-stricken face. Abe was carrying a crate and wore a bright teal silk scarf. He probably loved that it was winter. “Some of these things aren’t so easy to get a hold of.”
“But you got everything?” asked Lissa eagerly.
“Of course.” Abe gestured grandly to the dhampir beside him. “Including our tattooist, Horace. We’re ready to start when you are.”
It wasn’t until all eyes in the room swiveled in my direction that I realized he was talking to me. For a moment, my mind was blank. Why on earth were they staring at me? What was I supposed to do? The only thing I could think about was Adrian and that dark confession. Then, slowly, the scientist in me stirred. Right. The ink. Measurements, chemicals. I could do that. There was no moral ambiguity there.
Throwing my shoulders back, I strode up to Abe and spoke in a cold voice I hadn’t used in a very long time. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
He set out the supplies on a wide table. I examined each one critically and then nodded in satisfaction. “It’s all here.”
“What do you need us to do?” he asked.
“Stay out of my way.”
I pulled up a wooden stool and then took out my cell phone, which contained the exact formula and directions for making the Alchemist ink. A heavy silence fell on us, and I tried to ignore the fact that I had an audience. It had been a long time since I worked with Alchemist substances, though the concentration and diligence weren’t that different from creating spell components. I was simply facilitating chemical reactions instead of magical ones.
It was straightforward Alchemist work, but my hands trembled as I measured and mixed. I had to keep forcing my mind back to the task, away from my broken heart. When they realized the procedure wasn’t going to take five minutes, the group dispersed and talked quietly among themselves, finally giving me some privacy. Rose and Dimitri, thinking I was upset about helping Moroi, stopped by once to tell me what a great thing I was doing. I took their praise with a curt nod.
Sonya came up as I was finishing and offered similar sentiments. “This could be so useful to us, Sydney.”
I glanced up briefly. “I know. I’m glad to help.”
Whatever she saw in my face took her aback. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I looked back down. “Just being at Court and on a weird schedule.”
“It’s more than that. Don’t you think I can tell?”
Yes, of course she could, I thought bitterly. She could probably read the distress in my aura because that’s what she did: peer into others whether they wanted it or not. Boundaries, I was learning, were a negotiable thing among Moroi.
“I saw you talking to Adrian,” she continued. “What did he say to you?” Her voice faltered. “Sydney, I’ve seen things with you two . . .”
I looked back up, and my earlier anger returned. “If you want to help, let me work and forget whatever it is you think you’ve seen.”
She flinched, and I experienced a small pang of regret. Sonya was my friend and probably did have good intentions. I just didn’t want them right now, and after a few more seconds, she backed off.
I completed the suspension and sat back to admire the vial I’d created. It was as perfect as it could get. The others returned, making me feel oppressed and trapped.
“That’s it?” asked Neil. “You can tattoo me now?”
“No.” I pointed to the untouched vial of blood, still in its silver-bound box. “My suspension needs to sit for a while before we can mix them together.”
Clearly, they hadn’t expected that. “How long?” asked Abe.
“A couple hours should do it.”
Sonya sighed in dismay. “Each hour, the spirit weakens.” She turned to Adrian. “Do you think there’s still enough in it to be useful?”
“There has to be,” he said enigmatically.
“There’s nothing I can do to speed it up,” I explained. “Unless you want to deviate from what we’ve done for hundreds of years.” I was being snippy but couldn’t help it. “I’m going to go back to my room and rest. I’ll come back when it’s time for the next step.”
“Do you want me to walk you?” asked Dimitri. My bad mood was coming through to all of them.
I stood up and carefully placed the duplicate ingredients back in the crate. “Thanks, but I know the way.” I preferred to take my chances walking through Court at night than deal with more good-intentioned counseling. “Although . . . Abe, if you’ve got a minute, I have a question . . .”
My soliciting Abe caught a few people by surprise, especially Abe. He hid it quickly, though, and his natural sense of curiosity immediately took over. “But of course. Here, let me carry that for you. Or, actually, if you just want to leave it, I’ll take care of them since you didn’t need the duplicate set.”
I held my chin up in an imperious Alchemist way. “These are ingredients used for one of our most important purposes. I can’t leave these behind.”
We walked out, passing Adrian and Nina near the doorway. His heart was in his eyes as he watched me, and he barely seemed to hear Nina worriedly telling him about how Olive and Neil had stayed out late together. I quickly averted my eyes from him, afraid of what I might betray.
The night was crisp and cold and dotted with stars as Abe and I walked out toward guest housing. “So,” he said. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
“The ingredients you got me. One of them was Moroi blood.”
“It was on your list, though it seemed strange,” he replied. “I mean, I understand that’s normally in Alchemist tattooing ink, but in our case tonight, we already had a specific blood sample to use. In fact, that was kind of the point.”
Clever Abe. Nothing slipped past him.
“Is it charmed?” I asked.
“No. You didn’t leave any other directions, so I simply obtained a plain sample. Again, since we weren’t making standard ink, I didn’t think it was necessary. I wouldn’t have known what kind of compulsion you wanted anyway.”
“Have you ever done it?” Here it was. No way would Abe think this was a hypothetical. “Done a compulsion charm for the Alchemists?”
Silence. Yes, he knew something was up, but he hadn’t put it together. “No, I haven’t. I understand the principles, though. A fairly straightforward compulsion spell encouraging discretion and group loyalty.”
“Fairly straightforward,” I repeated. That was an under-statement.
He chuckled. “For an earth user, yes.”
“So you could do it, even though you haven’t? You could do it to these samples?”
“I could . . .” My building was in sight, and he came to a halt. “Miss Sage, let me make sure I’m following correctly. You’re asking me to put a compulsion spell on the blood samples you have. And what you aren’t explicitly asking—but are wishing—is that I not tell the other Alchemists.”
I kicked at a tree branch with my boot. A recent storm must have knocked a number of them down because they were strewn about the quads and walkways. “You’re too smart for your own good.”
“So are you. Which is what makes this completely and utterly fascinating. And let me guess. You aren’t carting off the extra ingredients simply to make sure they return to righteous Alchemist hands.” His eyes were dark and foreboding in the dim lighting. “Who are you trying to compel? Some boy? Love compulsions almost never work.”
“No! It’s nothing like that. I just need an all-purpose, off-the-rack compulsion charm on it like you’d do for standard ink. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“You’ll take care of ‘the rest,’” he said, clearly amused. “The rest being where you activate the magic as it’s injected and are able to imprint your command on someone.”
“Can you do it or not?” I asked. The wind stirred, lightly scattering snowflakes down upon us from a nearby tree.
“Oh, I can do it right now,” he said cheerfully. “The question is, what do I get in return?”
I sighed. “I knew it’d come to this. Does there always have to be something? Can’t you do things just to be nice?”
“My dear, I do plenty of things to be nice. What I don’t do is let an advantage slip through my fingers. Do you think I’ve gotten where I am today by heedlessly giving away things that can result in power and knowledge?”
“Power and knowledge?” I shook my head. “You might be asking for more than I’m capable of giving you.”
“Explain to me why you’re interested in an off-the-record tattoo, and that’ll be knowledge. More than enough payment.”
I hesitated. Abe wasn’t going to sell me out to the Alchemists, but no way was I going to get into the backstory of Marcus’s rebel movement. This was a tightly guarded secret. “I’m not trying to control anyone. This is part of an experiment—purely scientific. That’s the truth. Beyond that, though, I can’t tell you. That’s the extent of the knowledge you can have. But if you want to haggle for some other payment, be my guest. Let’s just do it somewhere warmer.”