Richelle Mead - The Indigo Spell

Ian jerked his head toward her. “Are you crazy?”

“Mr. Jansen,” she snapped, conveying a stern warning in just his name.

All eyes turned toward me as everyone realized that ultimately, it was my decision. At this point, I didn’t know if I should be shocked or scared—and the thought of dancing with Adrian made me feel both. I met Stanton’s eyes again and slowly gave a nod. “Sure. Okay. Good relations, right?”

Ian’s face turned bright red, but another sharp look from Stanton kept him silent. As Adrian led me to the dance floor, I heard a few whispered comments from curious Moroi mentioning “that poor Alchemist girl” and “there’s no predicting what he does sometimes.”

Adrian put his arm around my waist, perfectly proper and distant. I tried not to think about the last time I’d been in his arms. Even with appropriate spacing between us, our hands were still clasped, our stances still intimate. I was hyperaware of every single place his fingers rested on my body. His touch was light and delicate but seemed to carry an extraordinary heat and intensity.

“What were you thinking?” I demanded once we were moving to the music. I was trying to ignore his hands. “Do you know how much trouble you may have gotten me in?”

Adrian grinned. “Nah. They all feel bad for you. You’ll achieve martyrdom after dancing with a mean, wicked vampire. Job security with the Alchemists.”

“I thought you weren’t going to pressure me about . . . you know . . . that stuff. . . .”

The look of innocence returned. “Have I said a word about that? I just asked you to dance as a political gesture, that’s all.” He paused for impact. “Seems like you’re the one who can’t get ‘that stuff’ off your mind.”

“Stop turning my words against me! That’s not—no—that’s not right at all.”

“You should see that Stanton woman watching us,” he remarked with amusement, glancing behind me.

“Everyone’s watching us,” I grumbled. It wasn’t like the entire room had come to a standstill, but there were certainly a number of curious onlookers, gawking at the unlikely sight of a Moroi and a human—an Alchemist, at that—dancing.

He nodded and swept me into a turn. He was a good dancer, which wasn’t entirely a surprise. Adrian might be brash and impertinent, but he knew how to move. Maybe dance lessons had been part of growing up in an elite tier of Moroi society. Or maybe he was just naturally skilled at using his body. That kiss had certainly show a fair amount of talent. . . .

Ugh. Adrian was right. I was the one who couldn’t get over “that stuff.”

Unaware of my thoughts, he glanced over at Stanton again. “She’s got the look of a general who just sent her army on a suicide mission.”

“Nice to know she cares,” I said. For a moment, I forgot my dance floor woes as I thought angrily back to Stanton’s “need to know” attitude.

“I can pull you closer, if you want,” he said. “Just to see how much she cares. I’m always willing to help like that, you know.”

“You’re a real team player,” I said. “If putting me in danger is for the greater good, then Stanton probably wouldn’t do anything about you moving in on me.”

Adrian’s self-satisfied smirk faded. “Did she ever come clean about that guy you were trying to find? Martin?”

“Marcus,” I corrected. I frowned. Her denial still bothered me. “She keeps claiming she doesn’t know him, and I can’t push too hard if I don’t want her to get suspicious.”

“I thought of a way you might find him,” said Adrian. I would’ve thought he was joking if his face wasn’t so serious.

“ You did?” I asked. The Alchemists had vast information at our disposal, with hands in all sorts of agencies and organizations. I’d been scouring them these last few weeks and found it unlikely that Adrian would have access to something I didn’t.

“Yup. You’ve got his picture, right? Couldn’t you just do the same spell you did the other night? Locate him that way?”

I was so surprised, I nearly tripped. Adrian tightened his grip to keep me from falling. I shivered as that small gesture brought us closer. The tension between us kicked up a notch, and I realized that along with our bodies being nearer, so were our lips.

I had a little difficulty speaking, both because of how it felt to be so close to him and because I was still stunned by what he’d said. “That’s . . . wow . . . that’s not a bad idea. . . .”

“I know,” he said. “I’m kind of amazed myself.”

Really, the circumstances were no different from finding Ms. Terwilliger’s sister. I needed to locate someone I’d never met. I had a picture, which was what the spell required. What was different was that I’d be initiating the spell myself. It was a difficult piece of magic, and I knew Ms. Terwilliger’s coaching had helped me. There was also the moral dilemma of working that type of spell on my own. My conscience had an easier time handling magic when I felt coerced.

“I couldn’t try until next month,” I said, thinking back to the spell book. “I mean, I have the picture with me, but the spell’s got to be done during a full moon. This is the last night for the current one, and I’d never be able to get the components in time.”

“What do you need?”

I told him, and he nodded along, promising he could get them.

I scoffed. “Where are you going to get anise and hyssop at this time of night? In this town?”

“This town’s full of quirky boutique shops. There’s some herbal place that sells soaps and perfume made of anything you can imagine. I guarantee they’ve got what you need.”

“And I guarantee they’re closed.” He swept me into another flourish-filled spin, and I kept up with him perfectly.

The song was wrapping up. The time had flown by faster than I’d thought. I’d forgotten about the onlookers. I’d even forgotten I was with a vampire. I was simply dancing with Adrian, which felt easy and natural, so long as I didn’t think about our audience.

His roguish look returned. “Don’t worry about that. I can find the owner and talk her into making an exception.”

I groaned. “No. Not compulsion.” Compulsion was an ability vampires had to force their wills on others. All vampires had it to a small extent, and spirit users had it in excess. Most Moroi considered it immoral. Alchemists considered it a sin.

The song ended, but Adrian didn’t release me right away. He leaned a little closer. “Do you want to wait another month to find Marcus?”

“No,” I admitted.

Adrian’s lips were a breath away. “Then we’ll meet in two hours by the hotel’s service door.” I gave a weak nod, and he stepped back, releasing my hands. “Here’s one last sign of good relations.” With a bow that could’ve come straight out of a Jane Austen novel, he gestured to the bar and spoke loudly. “Thank you for the dance. May I escort you to get a drink?”

I followed without a word, my head spinning with what I’d need to do in two hours. At the bar, Adrian astonished me by ordering ginger ale. “Nice restraint,” I said, realizing he’d need to stay sober to work spirit. I hoped he hadn’t indulged too much already. For him, the only thing better than an open bar would be a case of cigarettes showing up at his door.

“I’m a master of self-control,” he declared.

I wasn’t so sure of that but didn’t contradict him. I sipped my Diet Coke, and we stood there in comfortable silence. Two Moroi men sidled up the bar near us, talking with the volume and exuberance of those who hadn’t held back on sampling free liquor.

“Well, no matter how liberal that girl is, she’s certainly easy on the eyes,” one guy said. “I could look at her all day, especially in that dress.”