Richelle Mead - Bloodlines

The others were still standing, not paying attention to me—well, except for Zoe. She still looked confused and afraid and kept glancing anxiously my way.

“There also may be another Moroi coming along,” continued Stanton. “Honestly, I’m not sure why, but they were very insistent he be with Mastrano. We told them the fewer of them we had to hide, the better, but . . . well, they seemed to think it was necessary and said they’d make arrangements for him there. I think he’s some Ivashkov. Irrelevant.”

“Where is there?” asked my father. “Where do you want to send her?”

Excellent question. I’d been wondering the same thing. My first full-time job with the Alchemists had sent me halfway around the world, to Russia. If the Alchemists were intent on hiding Jill, there was no telling what remote location they’d send her to. For a moment, I dared to hope we might end up in my dream city: Rome. Legendary works of art and Italian food seemed like a good way to offset paperwork and vampires.

“Palm Springs,” said Barnes.

“Palm Springs?” I echoed. That was not what I’d been expecting. When I thought of Palm Springs, I thought of movie stars and golf courses. Not exactly a Roman holiday, but not the Arctic either.

A small, wry smile tugged at Stanton’s lips. “It’s in the desert and receives a lot of sunlight. Completely undesirable for Strigoi.”

“Wouldn’t it be undesirable for Moroi too?” I asked, thinking ahead. Moroi didn’t incinerate in the sun like Strigoi, but excessive exposure to it still made Moroi weak and sick.

“Well, yes,” admitted Stanton. “But a little discomfort is worth the safety it provides. So long as the Moroi spend most of their time inside, it won’t be a problem. Plus, it’ll discourage other Moroi from coming and—”

The sound of a car door opening and slamming outside the window caught everyone’s attention. “Ah,” said Michaelson. “There are the others. I’ll let them in.”

He slipped out of the study and presumably headed toward the front door to admit whoever had arrived. Moments later, I heard a new voice speaking as Michaelson returned to us.

“Well, Dad couldn’t make it, so he just sent me,” the new voice was saying.

The study door opened, and my heart stopped.

No , I thought. Anyone but him.

“Jared,” said the newcomer, catching sight of my father. “Great to see you again.”

My father, who had barely spared me a glance all night, actually smiled . “Keith! I’d been wondering how you’ve been.” The two of them shook hands, and a wave of disgust rolled through me.

“This is Keith Darnell,” said Michaelson, introducing him to the others.

“Tom Darnell’s son?” asked Barnes, impressed. Tom Darnell was a legendary leader among the Alchemists.

“The same,” said Keith cheerfully. He was about five years older than me, with blond hair a shade lighter than mine. I knew a lot of girls thought he was attractive. Me? I found him vile. He was pretty much the last person I’d expected to see here.

“And I believe you know the Sage sisters,” added Michaelson.

Keith turned his blue eyes first to Zoe, eyes that were just fractionally different from each other in color. One eye, made of glass, stared blankly ahead and didn’t move at all. The other one winked at her as his grin widened.

He can still wink , I thought furiously. That annoying, stupid, condescending wink! But then, why wouldn’t he? We’d all heard about the accident he’d had this year, an accident that had cost him an eye. He’d still survived with one good one, but somehow, in my mind, I’d thought the loss of an eye would stop that infuriating winking.

“Little Zoe! Look at you, all grown up,” he said fondly. I’m not a violent person, not by any means, but I suddenly wanted to hit him for looking at my sister that way.

She managed a smile for him, clearly relieved to see a familiar face here. When Keith turned toward me, however, all that charm and friendliness vanished. The feeling was mutual.

The burning, black hatred building up inside of me was so overwhelming that it took me a moment to formulate any sort of response. “Hello, Keith,” I said stiffly.

Keith didn’t even attempt to match my forced civility. He immediately turned toward the senior Alchemists. “What is she doing here?”

“We know you requested Zoe,” said Stanton levelly, “but after consideration, we decided it would be best if Sydney fulfill this role. Her experience dwarfs any concerns about her past actions.”

“No,” said Keith swiftly, turning that steely blue gaze back on me. “There is no way she can come, no way I’m trusting some twisted vamp lover to screw this up for all of us. We’re taking her sister.”

A COUPLE OF PEOPLE GASPED, no doubt over Keith’s use of the term “vamp lover.” Neither word was that terrible in and of itself, but together . . . well, they represented an idea that was pretty much anathema to all that the Alchemists stood for. We fought to protect humans from vampires. Being in league with those creatures was about the vilest thing any of us could be accused of. Even while questioning me earlier, the other Alchemists had been very careful with their choice of language.

Keith’s usage was almost obscene. Horowitz looked angry on my behalf and opened his mouth as though he might make an equally biting retort. After a quick glance at Zoe and me, he seemed to reconsider, and stayed silent. Michaelson, however, couldn’t help himself from muttering, “Protect us all.” He made the sign against evil.

Yet it wasn’t Keith’s name-calling that really set me off (though that did certainly send a chill through me). It was Stanton’s earlier offhand comment. We know you requested Zoe.

Keith had requested Zoe for this assignment? My resolve to keep her out of it grew by leaps and bounds. The thought of her going off with him made me clench my fists. Everyone here might think Keith Darnell was some kind of poster child, but I knew better. No girl—let alone my sister—should be left alone with him.

“Keith,” said Stanton, a gentle warning in her voice. “I can respect your feelings, but you aren’t in a position to make that call.”

He flushed. “Palm Springs is my post! I have every right to dictate what goes on in my territory.”

“I can understand why you’d feel that way,” said my father. Unbelievable. If Zoe or I had questioned authority like Keith had, our father wouldn’t have hesitated to tell us our “rights”—or rather, he’d tell us that we had none. Keith had stayed with my family one summer—young Alchemists sometimes did that while training—and my father had grown to regard him like the son he’d never had. Even then, there’d been a double standard between Keith and us. Time and distance apparently hadn’t diminished that.

“Palm Springs may be your post,” said Stanton, “but this assignment is coming from places in the organization that are far above your reach. You’re essential for coordination, yes, but you are by no means the ultimate authority here.” Unlike me, I suspected Stanton had smacked a few people in her day, and I think she wanted to do that to Keith now. It was funny that she would become my defender, since I’d been pretty sure she didn’t buy my story about using Rose to advance my career.

Keith visibly calmed himself, wisely realizing a childish outburst wasn’t going to get him anywhere. “I understand. But I’m simply worried about the success of this mission. I know both of the Sage girls. Even before Sydney’s ‘incident,’ I had serious concerns about her. I figured she’d grow out of them, though, so I didn’t bother saying anything at the time. I see now I was wrong. Back then, I actually thought Zoe would have been a far better choice for the family position. No offense, Jared.” He gave my father what was probably supposed to be a charming smile.