Spirit Bound va-5 Read online

  "You think Mia knows how to break into a prison?"

  "Mia's good, but I don't think she's that good. She can probably help us get intel, though."

  Lissa groaned. "I can't believe you just used the word intel. This really is turning into a spy movie." She spoke flippantly, but I could feel the worry within her. The light tone was masking her fear, the unease she still felt about freeing Victor, despite her promise to me.

  Those non-royals who worked and did ordinary things at Court lived in apartments far from the queen's quarters and receiving hall. I'd gotten Mia's address in advance, and we set out across the perfectly manicured grounds, grumbling to each other along the way about the hot day. We found her at home, casually dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with a Popsicle in her hand. Her eyes widened when she saw us outside her door.

  "Well, I'll be damned," she said.

  I laughed. It was the kind of response I'd give. "Nice to see you too. Can we come in?"

  "Of course." She stepped aside. "You want a Popsicle?"

  Did I ever. I took a grape one and sat with her and Lissa in the small living room. The place was a far cry from the opulence of royal guest housing, but it was cozy and clean and undoubtedly well loved by Mia and her father.

  "I knew the grads were coming," Mia said, brushing blond curls out of her face. "But I wasn't sure if you were with them or not. Did you even graduate?"

  "I did," I said. "Got the promise mark and everything." I lifted my hair so she could see the bandage.

  "I'm surprised they let you back in after you took off on your killing spree. Or did you get extra credit for that?"

  Apparently, Mia had heard the same tall tale about my adventures that everyone else had. That was fine with me. I didn't want to talk about the truth. I didn't want to talk about Dimitri.

  "Do you think anyone could stop Rose from doing what she wants?" asked Lissa with a smile. She was trying to keep us from getting into too much detail about my past whereabouts, for which I was grateful.

  Mia laughed and crunched on a big chunk of lime ice. It was a wonder she didn't get brain freeze. "True." Her smile faded as she swallowed the bite. Her blue eyes, always shrewd, studied me in silence for a few moments. "And Rose wants something now."

  "Hey, we're just happy to see you," I said.

  "I believe you. But I also believe you've got an ulterior motive."

  Lissa's smile grew. She was amused by me being caught in my spy game. "What makes you say that? Can you read Rose that well or do you just always assume she's got an ulterior motive?"

  Now Mia smiled again. "Both." She scooted forward on the couch, fixing me with a serious look. When had she grown so perceptive? "Okay. No point in wasting time. What do you need my help with?"

  I sighed, busted. "I need to get inside the guardians' main security office."

  Beside me, Lissa made a sort of strangled noise. I felt kind of bad for her. While she could conceal her thoughts from me on occasion, there wasn't much she did or said that came as a true surprise. Me? I continually blindsided her. She had no clue what was coming half the time, but honestly, if we were planning on springing a renowned criminal out of prison, then breaking into a security office shouldn't have been that big of a shock.

  "Wow," said Mia. "You don't waste time with the little stuff." Her grin twitched a bit. "Of course, you wouldn't come to me with little stuff. You could do that yourself."

  "Can you get me–us–in there?" I asked. "You're friendly with some of the guardians here . . . and your dad has access to a lot of places. . . ." I didn't know Mr. Rinaldi's exact job, but I thought it was maintenance-related.

  "What are you looking for?" she asked. She held up a hand when I opened my mouth to protest. "No, no. I don't need details. Just a general idea so I can figure this out. I know you're not going there just to tour the place."

  "I need some records," I explained.

  Her eyebrows rose. "Personnel? Trying to get yourself a job?"

  "I–no." Huh. That wasn't a bad idea, considering my precarious position with being assigned to Lissa. But no. One issue at a time. "I need some records about outside security at other places–schools, royal homes, prisons." I tried to keep my expression casual as I mentioned that last one. Mia was on board with some crazy things, but even she had her limits. "I figured they must keep that stuff there?"

  "They do," she said. "But most of it's electronic. And no offense, but that might even be beyond your abilities. Even if we could get to one of their computers, everything's password protected. And if they walk away, they lock the computers. I'm guessing you haven't become a hacker since the last time I saw you."

  No, certainly not. And unlike the heroes of those spy movies Lissa teased me about, I had no tech-savvy friends who could even come close to breaking that kind of encryption and security. Damn. I stared glumly at my feet, wondering if I had any chance at all of getting more information out of Abe.

  "But," said Mia, "if the information you need isn't too current, they might still have paper copies."

  I jerked my head up. "Where?"

  "They've got mass storage rooms, tucked away in one of the basements. Files and files. Still under lock and key–but probably easier to get to than fighting the computers. Again, depends on what you need. How old it is."

  Abe had given me the impression that Tarasov Prison had been around for a while. Surely there was a record of it in these archives. I didn't doubt the guardians had gone digital a while ago, which meant we might not find up-to-the-minute details on the place's security, but I'd settle for a blueprint.

  "It might be what we need. Can you get us in?"

  Mia was quiet for several seconds, and I could see her mind whirring. "Possibly." She glanced at Lissa. "Can you still compel people into being your slaves?"

  Lissa grimaced. "I don't like to think of it like that, but yeah, I can." It was another of spirit's perks.

  Mia considered a few moments more and then gave a quick nod. "Okay. Come back around two, and we'll see what we can do."

  Two in the afternoon for the rest of the world meant the middle of the night for Moroi, who ran on a nocturnal schedule. Being out in broad daylight didn't feel particularly sneaky, but I had to figure Mia's planning here was based on the fact that there would also be fewer people around that time of day.

  I was trying to decide if we should socialize more or head out when a knock interrupted my thoughts. Mia flinched and suddenly looked uncomfortable. She rose to get the door, and a familiar voice drifted down

  the hall toward us.

  "Sorry I'm early, but I–"

  Christian stepped into the living room. He abruptly shut up when he saw Lissa and me. Everyone seemed frozen, so it looked like it was up to me to pretend like this wasn't a horribly awkward situation.

  "Hey, Christian," I said cheerfully. "How's it going?"

  His eyes were on Lissa, and it took him a moment to drag them to me. "Fine." He glanced at Mia. "I can come back. . . . "

  Lissa hastily stood up. "No," she said, voice cool and princesslike. "Rose and I have to go anyway."

  "Yeah," I agreed, following her lead. "We have . . . stuff . . . to do. And we don't want to interrupt your . . ." Hell, I had no idea what they were going to do. Wasn't sure I wanted to.

  Mia had found her voice. "Christian wanted to see some of the moves I've been practicing with the campus guardians."

  "Cool." I kept the smile on my face as Lissa and I moved toward the door. She stepped as far around Christian as she could. "Jill will be jealous."

  And not just Jill. After another round of goodbyes, Lissa and I left and set back off across the grounds. I could feel the anger and jealousy radiating through her bond.

  "It's only their fight club, Liss," I said, having no need for her side of the conversation. "Nothing's going on. They're going to talk punches and kicking and other boring stuff." Well, actually that stuff was pretty sweet, but I wasn't about to glorify Christian and Mia hanging out.
r />   "Maybe now nothing's going on," she growled, staring stonily ahead. "But who knows what could happen? They spend time together, practice some physical moves, one thing leads to another–"

  "That's ridiculous," I said. "That kind of stuff isn't romantic at all." Another lie, seeing as that was exactly how my relationship with Dimitri had begun. Again, best not to mention that. "Besides, Christian can't be involved with every girl he hangs out with. Mia, Jill–no offense, but he's not really that much of a ladies' man."

  "He's really good-looking," she argued, those dark feelings still seething within her.

  "Yeah," I conceded, keeping my eyes carefully on the pathway. "But it takes more than that. And besides, I thought you didn't care what he did."

  "I don't," she agreed, not even convincing herself, let alone me. "Not at all."

  My attempts to distract her proved pretty useless for the rest of the day. Tasha's words came back to me: Why haven't you fixed this? Because Lissa and Christian were being too damned unreasonable, both caught up in their own pissed-off feelings–which were kind of pissing me off in return. Christian would have been pretty helpful in my illicit escapades, but I had to keep my distance for Lissa's sake.

  I finally left her to her bad mood when dinner came around. Compared to her romantic situation, my relationship with a semi-spoiled royal playboy from a disapproving family seemed downright optimistic. What a sad and scary world this was becoming. I assured Lissa I'd head straight back after dinner and that we'd go see Mia together. The mention of Mia didn't make Lissa happy, but the thought of a potential break-in did distract her momentarily from Christian.

  The dress I had for dinner was maroon, made of light, gauzy material that was great for summer weather. The neckline was decent, and little cap sleeves gave it a classy edge. With my hair in a low ponytail that did a decent job of hiding the healing tattoo, I almost looked like a respectable girlfriend–which only went to show how deceptive appearances were, seeing as I was part of a crazy scheme to bring my last boyfriend back from the dead.

  Adrian surveyed me from head to toe when I arrived at his parents' town house. They kept a permanent residence here at the Court. The small smile on his face told me he liked what he saw.

  "You approve?" I asked, spinning around.

  He slipped an arm around my waist. "Unfortunately, yes. I was hoping you'd show up in something a lot sluttier. Something that would scandalize my parents."

  "Sometimes it's like you don't even care about me as a person," I observed as we walked inside. "It's like you're just using me for shock value."

  "It's both, little dhampir. I care about you, and I'm using you for shock value."

  I hid a smile as the Ivashkovs' housekeeper led us toward the dining room. The Court actually had restaurants and cafes tucked away within its buildings, but royals like Adrian's parents would consider it classier to have a fancy dinner in their home. Me, I would have preferred being out in public. More escape options.

  "You must be Rose."

  My assessment of the exits was interrupted when a very tall, very elegant Moroi woman came into the room. She wore a long, dark green satin dress that immediately made me feel out of place and that perfectly matched the color of her–and Adrian's–eyes. Her dark hair was pulled into a bun,

  and she smiled down at me with genuine warmth as she took my hand.

  "I'm Daniella Ivashkov," she said. "It's very nice to meet you at last."

  Was it really? My hand automatically shook hers in return. "Nice to meet you too, Lady Ivashkov."

  "Call me Daniella, please." She turned to Adrian and tsked as she straightened the collar of his button-up shirt. "Honestly, darling," she said. "Do you even look in a mirror before you walk out the door? Your hair's a mess."

  He dodged her as she reached toward his head. "Are you kidding? I spent hours in front of the mirror to make it look this way."

  She gave a tormented sigh. "Some days I can't decide if I'm lucky or not to have no other children." Behind her, quiet servants were setting food out on the table. Steam rose up from the platters, and my stomach rumbled. I hoped no one else heard. Daniella glanced off down the hall beyond her. "Nathan, will you hurry up? The food's getting cold."

  A few moments later, heavy footsteps sounded on the ornate wood floor, and Nathan Ivashkov swept into the room. Like his wife, he was dressed formally, the blue satin of his tie gleaming next to the starkness of his heavy black suit coat. I was glad they had air-conditioning in here, or he'd have been melting in that heavy fabric. The feature on him that stood out the most was what I remembered from before: a distinctly silver head of hair and mustache. I wondered if Adrian's hair would look like that when he was older. Nah, I'd never find out. Adrian would probably dye his hair at the first sign of gray–or silver.

  Adrian's father might be exactly as I remembered, but it was clear he had no clue who I was. In fact, he seemed genuinely startled to see me.

  "This is Adrian's, ah, friend, Rose Hathaway," said Daniella gently. "You remember–he said he'd bring her tonight."

  "It's nice to meet you, Lord Ivashkov."

  Unlike his wife, he didn't offer to put us on a first-name basis, which relieved me a little. The Strigoi who had forcefully turned Dimitri had been named Nathan too, and it wasn't a name I wanted to speak aloud. Adrian's father looked me over, but it wasn't with the appreciation Adrian had shown earlier. It was more like I was an oddity. "Oh. The dhampir girl."

  He wasn't rude exactly, just disinterested. I mean, it wasn't like he called me a blood whore or anything. We all sat down to eat, and although Adrian kept his typical devil-may-care smile on his face, I again got the vibe that he really, really wanted a cigarette. Probably hard liquor, too. Being around his parents was not something he enjoyed. When one of the servants poured us all wine, Adrian looked immensely relieved and didn't hold back. I shot him a cautioning look that he ignored.

  Nathan managed to rapidly devour his balsamic-glazed pork medallions while still looking elegant and proper. "So," he said, attention focused on Adrian, "now that Vasilisa's graduated, what are you going to do with yourself? You aren't going to keep slumming with high school students, are you? There's no point in you being there anymore."

  "I don't know," said Adrian lazily. He shook his head, further tousling his carefully mussed hair. "I kind of like hanging out with them. They think I'm funnier than I really am."

  "Unsurprising," his father replied. "You aren't funny at all. It's time you do something productive. If you aren't going to go back to college, you should at least start sitting in on some of the family business meetings. Tatiana spoils you, but you could learn a lot from Rufus."

  I knew enough about royal politics to recognize the name. The oldest member of each family was usually its "prince" or "princess" and held a Royal Council position–and was eligible to become king or queen. When Tatiana had taken the crown, Rufus had become prince of the Ivashkov family since he was the next oldest.

  "True," said Adrian deadpan. He wasn't eating so much as pushing his food around. "I'd really like to know how he keeps his two mistresses a secret from his wife."

  "Adrian!" snapped Daniella, a flush spilling over her pale cheeks. "Don't say things like that at our dinner table–and certainly not in front of a guest."

  Nathan seemed to notice me again and gave a dismissive shrug. "She doesn't matter." I bit my lip on that, repressing the urge to see if I could throw my china plate Frisbee style and hit him in the head. I decided against it. Not only would it ruin dinner, but the plate probably wouldn't get the lift I needed. Nathan turned his scowl back to Adrian. "But you do. I'm not going to have you sitting around doing nothing–and using our money to fund it."

  Something told me I should stay out of this, but I couldn't stand to see Adrian dressed down by his annoying father. Adrian did sit around and waste money, but Nathan didn't have the right to make fun of him for it. I mean, sure, I did all the time. But that was different.

  "May
be you could go to Lehigh with Lissa," I offered. "Keep studying spirit with her and then . . . do whatever else you were doing the last time you were in college. . . ."

  "Drinking and skipping classes," said Nathan.

  "Art," said Daniella. "Adrian took art classes."

  "Really?" I asked, turning to him in surprise. Somehow, I could imagine him as an artistic type. It fit his erratic personality. "Then this would be perfect. You could pick it up again."

  He shrugged and finished his second glass of wine. "I don't know. This college would probably have the same problem the last one did."

  I frowned. "What's that?"

  "Homework."

  "Adrian," growled his father.

  "It's okay," said Adrian breezily. He rested his arm casually on the table. "I don't really need a job or extra money. After Rose and I get married, the kids and I'll just live off of her guardian paycheck."

  We all froze, even me. I knew perfectly well that he was joking. I mean, even if he harbored fantasies of marriage and kids (and I was pretty sure he didn't), the meager salary a guardian made would never be enough to keep him in the luxurious life he required.

  Adrian's father, however, clearly did not think he was joking. Daniella seemed undecided. Me, I was just uncomfortable. It was a very, very bad topic to bring up at a dinner like this, and I couldn't believe Adrian had gone there. I didn't even think the wine was to blame. Adrian just liked tormenting his father that much.

  The awful silence grew thicker and thicker. My gut instinct to fill conversation voids was raging, but something told me to stay quiet. The tension increased. When the doorbell rang, all four of us nearly jumped out of our chairs.

  The housekeeper, Torrie, scurried off to answer it, and I breathed a mental sigh of relief. An unexpected visitor would help ease the tension.

  Or maybe not.

  Torrie cleared her throat when she returned, clearly flustered as she looked from Daniella to Nathan. "Her Royal Majesty Queen Tatiana is here."