Richelle Mead - Silver Shadows

“You’re leaving?” asked Trey, looking as dumbfounded as I felt.

“I guess I am.” I thought about it a little more, and suddenly, it seemed like a great idea. Why was I still here, torturing myself in a desert? Sydney was gone. Jill was making rapid strides in learning to block me through the bond, thanks to my extreme behavior recently. Besides, she’d be leaving here in another month as well. “Yes,” I said more confidently. “I’m definitely leaving. It’s prepaid through fall. You can stay on.”

I needed to be away from this place and its memories of Sydney. She was everywhere I looked, not just in this apartment but also at Amberwood and even Palm Springs at large. Every place brought up some image of her, and although I hadn’t given up on finding her, I’d continue doing so in a place that didn’t cause me so much pain. Maybe this was the fresh start I needed.

That … and my mom was back! I’d missed her deeply, in a different way from Sydney, and had almost as little contact. My mother hadn’t wanted me to reach her in dreams, and my father wouldn’t deliver any letters. I’d worried about how Daniella Ivashkov had survived in a prison, but watching her now, she seemed no worse for it. She seemed as elegant as ever, well-dressed and well-made-up, moving around my room with that single-minded authority and confidence that defined her—and had played a role in her arrest.

“Here,” she said, handing me something from the dresser. “Keep these on you. You don’t want to check them in your luggage.”

I looked down and was met with a sparkling array of diamonds and rubies set in platinum. They’d been a gift from my Aunt Tatiana. She’d given them to me “for special occasions,” as though I’d have all sorts of reasons to wear thousands of dollars on my sleeves. Maybe I would have if I’d stayed at Court. Mostly in Palm Springs, they’d been a temptation, one I’d nearly pawned in a desperate attempt to get some cash. I squeezed them tightly a few moments now, letting the sharp corners dig into my palms, and then slipped them into my pocket.

My mom finished the suitcase in less than ten minutes. When I pointed out she’d only packed a fraction of my belongings, she waved my concern off. “No time. We’ll buy you new things at Court.”

So. We were going to Court. I wasn’t entirely surprised. My family had a few other guesthouses around the world, but the Moroi Court in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania was their primary residence. Honestly, I didn’t care where we were going as long as it was away from here.

In the living room, I found a watchful guardian waiting for us. My mom introduced him as Dale and said he’d also be our driver. I made an awkward farewell with Trey, who still seemed stunned by the abrupt turn of events. He asked if I wanted to send a message through him to Jill or the others, which gave me pause. At last, I shook my head.

“No need.”

Jill would understand why I needed to leave, why I needed to get away from my memories and my failures. Anything I told her in words would pale to what she’d learn from the bond, and she could either tell the others or come up with a pretty story for me. Eddie would think I was running away, but staying here for three months had brought me closer to only misery, not Sydney. Maybe this change of venue was what I needed.

My mom had booked us first-class seats to Pennsylvania, with Dale sitting right across the aisle. After living a frugal college student’s life for so long, that kind of expense made my mind reel a little, yet the more I sat with my mom, the more natural it became. A flight attendant came around offering drinks, but my pounding head made me abstain and stick to water. That, and I wanted my wits about me to hear what my mom had to say.

“I’ve been home for a week,” she said, as though she’d been away on holiday. “Naturally, I’ve been busy getting things back in order there, but you were first and foremost on my mind.”

“How did you know where to find me?” I asked. My location, being tied to Jill’s, was a tightly guarded secret. No one would risk her by revealing me.

Her brow knit. “I received a puzzling message. Anonymous. Said you were ‘going through a tough time’ and needed me. It had your address and strict instructions not to share it, as you were conducting important business for the queen. A little of that’s gotten around—about the work you’ve been doing to protect us from Strigoi. It’s very impressive.”

Going through a tough time. Those were the words Jill had used to defend me last night for forgetting her fashion show. I nearly groaned. No one would risk Jill’s safety to tell my mom where I was—except Jill herself.

“Does anyone know you’re here?” I asked.

“Of course not,” said my mom, looking offended. “I’d never reveal secrets so important to the Moroi’s future. If there’s a way to eradicate the Strigoi, I’ll do my part and help you in yours … though, I must admit, darling, you do seem a bit out of sorts.”

If my mom thought we were just doing Strigoi research in Palm Springs, then so be it. She’d hopefully have no reason to give it a second thought now that she’d retrieved me.

“‘Out of sorts’ is putting it lightly,” I told her.

She rested her hand on mine. “What’s wrong? You were dealing so well. I understand you’ve been taking classes again? And doing this work for the queen?”

With a start, I realized I’d never checked on my other two classes. Did I have final exams in them? Culminating projects? Crap. I’d been so stunned over my mom’s arrival and the chance to escape that I’d completely forgotten to follow up at Carlton. I may have blown my last attempt at college success. The pride in her voice touched me, though, and I couldn’t bear to tell her that part of the truth.

“Yeah, I’ve been busy,” I said vaguely.

“Then what’s wrong?” she reiterated.

I met her eyes, seeing the rare compassion few saw. Before her imprisonment, most saw her as prim, aristocratic Daniella Ivashkov, cold and unconcerned with image. I knew her that way as well, but in these rare, shining moments, I also knew her as my mother. And suddenly, I found myself telling the truth … or at least a version of it.

“There … well, there was a girl, Mom.”

She sighed. “Oh, Adrian. Is that all?”

“It’s not all!” I exclaimed angrily. “She was the girl. The one who changed everything. The one who changed me.”

“All right, all right,” she said, trying to soothe me. “I’m sorry. What happened with her?”

I tried to find some way to accurately convey the truth. “Her family didn’t approve of me.”

Now my mother was angry, assuming, naturally, that I was talking about a Moroi girl. “That’s ridiculous! You come from the finest Moroi bloodlines, on both the Tarus and Ivashkov sides. The queen herself couldn’t ask for better lineage. If this girl’s family has problems with you, then they’re clearly deluded.”

I almost smiled. “Well, that we can agree on.”

“Then what’s the problem? If she’s an adult—oh, Adrian, please tell me she’s an adult and not a minor.”

“She’s an adult.”

Relief flooded my mother’s features. “Then she’s capable of making her own decisions and coming to you, regardless of what her family thinks. And if she stands with them, then she’s not worth your time, and you’re better off without her.”

I wanted to tell her that it wasn’t that simple, but she hadn’t reacted well to me being involved with Rose. A dhampir was unforgiveable. A human was inconceivable.

“I think it had as much to do with me personally as my bloodline,” I said instead.