The Golden Lily (38 page)

“It wasn’t like that,” he said. “We thought she was one of the Strigoi. We still do.” I scrutinized his face, this guy I’d thought was my friend. I was pretty sure he still was. “Not you. That’s why you threw the fight.”

“I didn’t,” he protested.

“You did. I saw you hesitate when you could have taken out Chris. You didn’t want to win. You didn’t want to kill Sonya because you weren’t sure she realy was

“You did. I saw you hesitate when you could have taken out Chris. You didn’t want to win. You didn’t want to kill Sonya because you weren’t sure she realy was Strigoi.” He didn’t deny it. “I still think they should all be destroyed.”

“So do I.” I reconsidered. “Wel, unless there’s a way to save them al, but that’s unclear.” Despite how much I’d said while advocating for Sonya, I wasn’t quite comfortable letting him on the secrets and experiments. “If the Warriors travel around, what’ll happen the next time they’re in this area? Or even ll.A.?

Will you join them again? Will you travel to the next hunt?”

“No.” The answer was hard. Blunt, even.

Hope surged in me. “You’ve decided to split off from them?” The emotions on Trey’s face were hard to read, but they didn’t look like happy ones. “No. They decided to cut us off—

me and my dad. We’ve been outcast.”

I stared for a few moments, at a loss for words. I didn’t like the Warriors or Trey’s involvement, but this wasn’t quite what I’d been trying to achieve. “Because of me?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Indirectly, I guess.

They don’t blame you personaly or even the Alchemists. Hel, they still want to team up with the Alchemists. They figure you just behaved in your typicaly misguided way. But me? I’m the one who pushed to let you in, who swore everything would be fine. So, they blame me for the lapse of judgment and falout that fine. So, they blame me for the lapse of judgment and falout that came from it. Others are taking the blame too—the council for agreeing, security for not stopping the raid—but that doesn’t make me feel better. Dad and I were the only ones exiled.”

“I … I’m sorry. I never thought anything like that would happen.”

“Wasn’t your place to,” he said pragmaticaly, though his tone was still miserable. “To a certain extent, they’re right. I was the one that got you in. It is my fault, and they’re punishing my dad for what I did. That’s the worst part of al.” Trey was trying to play it cool, but I could see the truth. He’d worked so hard to impress his father and ended up causing the ultimate humiliation.

Trey’s next words confirmed as much. “The Warriors have been my dad’s whole life. To be kicked out like that … wel, he’s taking it pretty badly. I have to find a way to get back in—for him. I don’t suppose you know where any easy-to-kill Strigoi are, do you?”

“No,” I said. “Especialy since none of them are easy kils.” I hesitated, unsure how to proceed. “Trey, what’s this mean for us? I understand if we can’t be friends anymore … seeing as how I, uh, ruined your life’s work.”

A hint of his old smile returned. “Nothing’s ruined for good. I told you, I’ll get back in. And if it’s not by kiling Strigoi, who knows? Maybe if I learn more about you guys, I can bridge the gap between our groups and get us to all work together. That would score me some points.”

“You’re welcome to try,” I said diplomaticaly. I realy didn’t think that would happen, and he could tel.

think that would happen, and he could tel.

“Wel, I’ll figure something out then, some big move to get the Warriors’ attention and get my dad and me back in with them. I have to.” His face started to fall again, but then there was a brief return of the phantom smile—though it was tinged with sadness.

“You know what else sucks? Now I can’t ask Angeline out.

Hanging out with you is one thing, but even if I’m an outcast, I can’t risk being friendly with Moroi or dhampirs. I especialy can’t date one. I mean, I’d figured she was one a while ago, but I could have played dumb. That attack in the arena kind of kiled any chance of that. The Warriors realy don’t like them either, you know.

Dhampirs or Moroi. They’d love to see them brought down too—they just think it’s too hard and less of a priority right now.” Something about those words made me shiver, particularly since I recaled the offhand Warrior comment about eventualy taking out Moroi. The Alchemists certainly had no love for dhampirs and Moroi, but that was a far cry from wanting to bring them down.

“I gotta get going.” Trey reached into his pocket and handed over something that I was grateful to see. My phone. “Figured you were missing this.”

“Yes!” I took it eagerly and turned it on. I hadn’t known if I’d get it back and had been on the verge of buying a new one. This one was three months old and practicaly out-of-date anyway.

“Thanks for saving it. Oh. Wow.” I read the display. “There are like a milion messages from Brayden.” We hadn’t spoken since the night of Sonya’s disappearance.

the night of Sonya’s disappearance.

The mischievous look I liked so well on Trey returned. “Better get on that then. True love waits for no one.”

“True love, huh?” I shook my head in exasperation. “So nice to have you back.”

That earned me an outright grin. “See you around.” As soon as I was alone, I texted Brayden: Sorry for the radio silence. Lost my phone for three days. His response was almost immediate: I’m at work, due for a break soon. Come by? I thought about it. Seeing as I had no life-saving tasks right now, this was as good a time as any. I texted back that I’d leave Amberwood right away.

Brayden had my favorite latte ready for me when I got to Spencer’s. “Based on when you were leaving, I calculated when I would need to make it in order for it to Brayden had my favorite latte ready for me when I got to Spencer’s. “Based on when you were leaving, I calculated when I would need to make it in order for it to be hot when you arrived.”

“Thanks,” I said, taking it. I felt a little guilt that I had a greater emotional reaction to seeing the coffee than him.

He told the other barista he was going on break and then led me over to a remote table. “This won’t take long,” Brayden said.

“I know you probably have a lot of things to do this weekend.”

“Things are actualy starting to lighten up,” I said.

He took a deep breath, showing that same resolve and anxiety he’d had when asking me for future dates. “Sydney,” he said, voice formal, “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” I stopped mid-sip. “Wait … what?”

“I know how devastating this probably is for you,” he added.

“I know how devastating this probably is for you,” he added.

“And I admit, it’s hard for me too. But in light of recent events, it’s become clear you just aren’t ready for a relationship yet.”

“Recent events?”

He nodded solemnly. “Your family. You’ve broken off a number of our social engagements to be with them. While that kind of familial devotion is admirable, I just can’t be in that kind of volatile relationship.”

“Volatile?” I just kept repeating his key words and finaly forced myself to get a grip. “So … let me get this straight.

You’re breaking up with me.”

He thought about it. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

I waited for some internal reaction. An outpouring of grief.

The sense of my heart breaking. Any emotion, realy. But mostly, all I felt was kind of a puzzled surprise.

“Huh,” I said.

That was apparently enough of a distraught reaction for Brayden. “Please don’t make this harder than it is. I admire you a lot. You’re absolutely the smartest girl I’ve ever met. But I just can’t be involved with someone as irresponsible as you.” I stared. “Irresponsible.” Brayden nodded again. “Yes.”

I’m not sure where it started, somewhere in my stomach or chest, maybe. But all of a sudden, I was consumed by uncontrolable laughter. I couldn’t stop. I had to set down my coffee, lest I spil it. Even then, I had to bury my face in my hands to wipe away tears.

“Sydney?” asked Brayden cautiously. “Is this some kind of

“Sydney?” asked Brayden cautiously. “Is this some kind of hysterical-grief reaction?” It took me almost another minute to calm myself enough to answer him. “Oh, Brayden. You’ve made my day. You’ve given me something I never thought I’d get.

Thank you.” I reached for the coffee and stood up. He looked completely lost.

“Um, you’re welcome?”

I left the coffee shop, still laughing like a fool. For the last month or so, everyone in my life had gone on and on about how responsible I was, how diligent, how exemplary. I’d been caled a lot of things. But never, ever, had I been caled irresponsible.

And I kind of liked it.

BECAUSE THIS DAY couldn’t get any weirder, I decided to stop by Adrian’s. There was something I was dying to know but hadn’t had a chance to ask.

He opened the door when I knocked, a paintbrush in hand.

“Oh,” he said. “Unexpected.”

“Am I interrupting anything?”

“Just homework.” He stepped aside to let me in. “Don’t worry. It’s not the crisis for me that it would be for you.” I entered the living room and was happy to see it filed with canvases and easels once again. “You’ve got your art studio back.”

“Yup.” He set the brush down and wiped his hands on a rag.

“Now that this place is no longer research central, I can return it to its normal artistic state.” He leaned against the back of the plaid sofa and watched me as I stroled from canvas to canvas. One of them gave me pause.

“What’s this? It looks like a lily.”

“It is,” he said. “No offense, but this lily is kind of more badass than yours. If the Alchemists want to buy the rights to this and start using it, I’m wiling to negotiate.” and start using it, I’m wiling to negotiate.”

“Noted,” I said. I was still smiling from Brayden’s breakup, and this only added to my good mood. Although, admittedly, the painting kind of lost me a little—as the abstract nature of his art often did. The lily, despite being more stylized and “badass” than the prim one on my cheek, was still clearly identifiable. It was even done in gold paint. Splashes of free-form scarlet paint surrounded it, and around the red was an almost crystaline pattern in ice blue. It was striking, but if there was some deeper meaning, it was beyond me.

“You’re in an awfuly good mood,” he observed. “Was there a sale at Khakis-R-Us?”

I gave up on my artistic interpretation and turned to him.

“Nope. Brayden broke up with me.”

Adrian’s smirk faded. “Oh. Shit. I’m sorry. Are you … I mean, do you need a drink? Do you need to, uh, cry or anything?” I laughed. “No. Weirdly, I’m fine. It realy doesn’t bother me at al. But it should, right? Maybe there’s something wrong with me.” Adrian’s green eyes weighed me. “I don’t think so. Not every breakup is a tragedy. still … you might be due for some kind of comfort.” He straightened and walked over to the kitchen. Puzzled, I watched as he puled something from the freezer and rifled through his silverware drawer. He returned to the living room and presented me with a pint of pomegranate gelato and a spoon.

spoon.

“What’s this for?” I asked, accepting the offering out of shock alone.

“For you, obviously. You wanted pomegranate, right?” I thought back to the night at the Italian restaurant. “Wel, yeah … but you didn’t need to do this …”

“Wel, you wanted it,” he said reasonably. “That, and a deal’s a deal.”

“What deal?”

“Remember when you said you’d drink a regular can of pop if I didn’t smoke for a day? Wel, I calculated the calories, and that’s the same as a serving of this. If you can believe there are four servings in that tiny thing.”

I nearly dropped the gelato. “You … you went a day without smoking?”

“Almost a week, actualy,” he said. “So you can eat the whole thing if you want.”

“Why on earth would you do that?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Hey, you laid out the chalenge. Besides, smoking’s an unhealthy habit, right?”

“Right …” I was still stunned.

“Eat up. It’s going to melt.”

I handed the gelato back. “I can’t. Not with you watching. It’s too weird. Can I eat it later?”

“Sure,” he said, returning it to the freezer. “If you’ll realy eat it. I know how you are.” I crossed my arms as he stood opposite me. “Oh?” He fixed me with a disconcertingly hard look. “Maybe He fixed me with a disconcertingly hard look. “Maybe everyone else thinks your aversion to food is cute—but not me.

I’ve watched you watch Jil. Here’s some tough love: you will never, ever have her body. Ever. It’s impossible. She’s Moroi.

You’re human. That’s biology. You have a great one, one that most humans would kill for—and you’d look even better if you put on a little weight. Five pounds would be a good start. Hide the ribs. Get a bigger bra size.”

“Adrian!” I was aghast. “You … are you out of your mind?

You have no right to tell me that! None at al.” He scoffed. “I have every right, Sage. I’m your friend, and no one else is going to do it. Besides, I’m the king of unhealthy habits. Do you think I don’t know one when I see it? I don’t know where this came from—your family, too many Moroi, or just your own OCD nature

—but I’m teling you, you don’t have to do it.”

“So this is some kind of intervention.”

“This is the truth,” he said simply. “From someone who cares and wants your body to be as healthy and amazing as your mind.”

“I’m not listening to this,” I said, turning away. A mix of emotions churned in me. Anger. Outrage. And weirdly, a little relief. “I’m going. I never should have come by.” His hand on my shoulder stopped me. “Wait … listen to me.” Reluctantly, I turned. His expression was still stern, but his voice had softened. “I’m not trying to be mean. You’re the last person I want to hurt … but I don’t want you hurting yourself either.

I want to hurt … but I don’t want you hurting yourself either.

You can ignore everything I just said, but I had to get it out, okay? I won’t mention it again. You’re the one in control of your life.” I looked away and blinked back tears. “Thanks,” I said. I should have been happy he was going to back off. Instead, there was an ache inside me, like he’d torn something open that I was trying to ignore and keep shut away. An ugly truth I didn’t want to admit to myself, which I knew was hypocritical for someone who claimed to deal in facts and data. And whether I wanted to agree with him or not, I knew without a doubt he was right about one thing: no one else would’ve told me what he just had.

“Why did you come by anyway?” he asked. “You sure you don’t want to make my awesome painting the new Alchemist logo?” I couldn’t help a small laugh. I looked back up at him, wiling to help him with the abrupt change in subject. “No. Something much more serious.” He looked relieved at my smile and gave me one of his smirky ones in return. “Must be really serious.”

“That night at the compound. How did you know how to drive the Mustang?”

His smile vanished.

“Because you did,” I said. “You drove it without any hesitation. As good as I could have. I started to wonder if maybe someone else had been showing you how to do it. But even if you’d had lessons every day since you got the car, you couldn’t have driven like that. You shifted like you’ve been driving manual have driven like that. You shifted like you’ve been driving manual your whole life.”

Adrian turned abruptly away and walked to the opposite side of the living room. “Maybe I’m a natural,” he said, not looking at me.

It was funny how quickly the tables had turned. One minute he had me backed into a corner, forcing me to face issues I didn’t want. Now it was my turn. I folowed him over to the window and made him meet my gaze.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” I pushed. “You’ve been driving one your whole life!”

“Not even Moroi give licenses to infants, Sage,” he said wryly.

“Don’t dodge this. You know what I mean. You’ve known how to drive stick for years.” His silence answered for him, teling me I was right, even if his face was hard to read.

“Why?” I demanded. Now I was nearly pleading. Everyone said I was so exceptionaly smart, I could string random things together and make remarkable conclusions. But this was beyond me, and I couldn’t handle something that made so little sense.

“Why would you do that? Why would you act like you didn’t know how to drive?”

A milion thoughts seemed to cross his mind, none of which he wanted to share. At last, he shook his head in exasperation.

“Isn’t it obvious, Sage? No, of course it isn’t. I did it so I’d have a reason to be around you—one I knew you couldn’t refuse.” I was more confused than ever. “But

… why? Why would I was more confused than ever. “But … why? Why would you want to do that?”

“Why?” he asked. “Because it was the closest I could get to doing this.”

He reached out and puled me to him, one hand on my waist and the other behind my neck. He tipped my head up and lowered his lips to mine. I closed my eyes and melted as my whole body was consumed in that kiss. I was nothing. I was everything. Chils ran over my skin, and fire burned inside me.

His body pressed closer to mine, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. His lips were warmer and softer than anything I could have ever imagined, yet fierce and His body pressed closer to mine, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. His lips were warmer and softer than anything I could have ever imagined, yet fierce and powerful at the same time. Mine responded hungrily, and I tightened my hold on him.

His fingers slid down the back of my neck, tracing its shape, and every place they touched was electric.

But perhaps the best part of all was that I, Sydney Katherine Sage, guilty of constantly analyzing the world around me, wel, I stopped thinking.

And it was glorious.

At least, it was until I started thinking again.

My mind and all its worries and considerations suddenly took over. I puled away from Adrian, despite my body’s protests. I backed up from him, knowing my eyes were terrified and wide.

“What … what are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a grin. He took a step toward me. “But I’m pretty sure you were doing it too.”

“No. No. Don’t get any closer! You can’t do that again. Do

“No. No. Don’t get any closer! You can’t do that again. Do you understand? We can’t ever … we shouldn’t have … oh my God. No. Never again. That was wrong.” I put my fingers to my lips, as though I would wipe away what had just happened, but mostly I was reminded again of the sweetness and heat of his mouth against mine. I promptly dropped my hand.

“Wrong? I don’t know, Sage. Honestly, that was the most right thing that’s happened to me in a while.” Nonetheless, he kept his distance.

I shook my head franticaly. “How can you say that? You know how it is! There’s no … wel, you know. Humans and vampires can’t … no. There can’t be anything between them.

Between us.”

“Wel, there had to have been at one point,” he said, attempting a reasonable tone. “Or there wouldn’t be dhampirs today. Besides, what about the Keepers?”

“The Keepers?” I nearly laughed, but no part of this was funny. “The Keepers live in caves and wage campfire battles over possum stew. If you want to go live that life, you’re more than welcome to. If you want to live in the civilized world with the rest of us, then do not touch me again. And what about Rose? Aren’t you madly in love with her?” Adrian looked way too calm for this situation. “Maybe I was once. But it’s been … what, nearly three months? And honestly, I haven’t thought much about her in a while. Yeah, I’m still hurt and feel kind of used, but … realy, she’s not the one I’m always thinking about anymore. I don’t see her face when I go to sleep.

I don’t wonder about—”

I don’t wonder about—”

“No!” I backed up even further. “I don’t want to hear this.

I’m not going to listen to any more.”

With a few swift steps, Adrian stood in front of me again. The wall was only a couple inches behind me, and I had nowhere to go. He made no threatening moves, but he did clasp my hands and hold them to his chest while leaning down to me.

“No, you will listen. For once, you’re going to hear something that doesn’t fit into your neat, compartmentalized world of order and logic and reason. Because this isn’t reasonable. If you’re terrified, believe me—this scares the hellout of me, too. You asked about Rose? I tried to be a better person for her—but it was to impress her, to get her to want me. But when I’m around you, I want to be better because … wel, because it feels right.

Because I want to. You make me want to become something greater than myself. I want to excel. You inspire me in every act, every word, every glance. I look at you, and you’re like … like light made into flesh. I said it on Haloween and meant every word: you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen walking this earth. And you don’t even know it. You have no clue how beautiful you are or how brightly you shine.” I knew I needed to break away, to jerk my hands from his.

But I couldn’t. Not yet. “Adrian—”

“And I know, Sage,” he continued, his eyes filed with fire. “I know how you guys feel about us. I’m not stupid, and believe me, I’ve tried to get you out of my head. But there isn’t enough liquor or art or any other distraction in the world to do it. I had to stop going to Wolfe’s because it was too hard being that close to stop going to Wolfe’s because it was too hard being that close to you, even if it was all just pretend fighting. I couldn’t stand the touching. It was agonizing because it meant something to me—

and I knew it meant nothing to you. I kept teling myself to stay away altogether, and then I’d find excuses … like the car … anything to be around you again.

Hayden was an asshole, but at least as long as you were involved with him, I had a reason to keep my distance.” Adrian was still holding my hands, his face eager and panicked and desperate as he spiled his heart before me. My own heart was beating uncontrolably, and any number of emotions could have been to blame. He had that distracted, enraptured look … the one that he held when spirit seized him and made him ramble. I prayed that’s what this was, some spirit-induced fit of insanity. It had to be. Right?

“His name is Brayden,” I said at last. Slowly, I was able to quiet my anxiety and gain some control. “And even without him, you have a million reasons to keep your distance. You say you know how we feel. But do you? Do you realy?” I puled my hands from his and pointed at my cheek. “Do you know what the golden your distance. You say you know how we feel. But do you? Do you realy?” I puled my hands from his and pointed at my cheek. “Do you know what the golden lily truly means? It’s a promise, a vow to a lifestyle and a belief system. You can’t throw something like that away.

This won’t let me, even if I wanted to. And truthfuly, I don’t want to! I believe in what we do.” Adrian regarded me levely. He didn’t try to take my hands again, but he didn’t back away either. My hands felt painfuly empty without his. “This ‘lifestyle’ and