Surprisingly, it was Christian who came to the rescue and changed the subject. "I suppose there's no skiing today, huh?" He pointed to Mason's ankle, immediately triggering an indignant response.
"What, you think this is going to slow me down?" asked Mason.
His anger diminished, replaced by that burning need to prove himself-the need he and I both shared. Lissa and Christian looked at him like he was crazy, but I knew nothing we said would stop him.
"You guys want to come with us?" I asked Lissa and Christian.
Lissa shook her head. "We can't. We have to go to this luncheon being hosted by the Contas."
Christian groaned. "Well, you have to go."
She elbowed him. "So do you. The invitation said I get to bring a guest. Besides, this is just a warm-up for the big one."
"Which one is that?" asked Mason.
"Priscilla Voda's huge dinner," sighed Christian. Seeing him look so pained made me smile. "The queen's best friend. All the snobbiest royals will be there, and I'll have to wear a suit."
Mason flashed me a grin. His earlier antagonism was gone. "Skiing's sounding better and better, huh? Less of a dress code."
We left the Moroi behind and went outside. Mason couldn't compete with me in the same way he had yesterday; his movements were slow and awkward. Still, he did remarkably well when one considered everything. The injury wasn't as bad as we'd feared, but he had the prudence to stick to extremely easy runs.
The full moon hung in the blankness, a glowing sphere of silvery white. The electric lights overpowered most of its illumination on the ground, but here and there, in the shadows, the moon just barely managed to cast its glow. I wished it were bright enough to reveal the surrounding mountain range, but those peaks stayed shrouded in darkness. I'd forgotten to look at them when it was light out earlier.
The runs were super simple for me, but I stayed with Mason and only occasionally teased him about how his remedial skiing was putting me to sleep. Boring runs or no, it was just nice to be outside with my friends, and the activity stirred my blood enough to warm me against the chill air. The light posts lit up the snow, turning it into a vast sea of white, the flakes' crystals sparkling faintly. And if I managed to turn away and block the lights from my field of vision, I could look up and see the stars spilling over the sky. They stood out stark and crystalline in the clear, freezing air. We stayed out for most of the day again, but this time, I called it quits early, pretending to be tired so Mason could get a break. He might manage easy skiing with his tender ankle, but I could tell it was starting to hurt him.
Mason and I headed back toward the lodge walking very close to each other, laughing about something we'd seen earlier. Suddenly, I saw a streak of white in my peripheral vision, and a snowball smashed into Mason's face. I immediately went on the defensive, jerking backward and peering around. Whoops and cries sounded from an area of the resort grounds that held storage sheds and was interspersed with looming pines.
"Too slow, Ashford," someone called. "Doesn't pay to be in love."
More laughs. Mason's best friend, Eddie Castile, and a few other novices from school materialized from behind a cluster of trees. Beyond them, I heard more shouts.
"We'll still take you in, though, if you want to be on our team," said Eddie. "Even if you do dodge like a girl."
"Team?" I asked excitedly.
Back at the Academy, throwing snowballs was strictly prohibited. School officials were inexplicably afraid that we'd throw snowballs packed with glass shards or razor blades, though I had no clue how they thought we'd get a hold of that kind of stuff in the first place.
Not that a snowball fight was that rebellious, but after all the stress I'd been through recently, throwing objects at other people suddenly sounded like the best idea I'd heard in a while. Mason and I dashed off with the others, the prospect of forbidden fighting giving him new energy and causing him to forget the pain in his ankle. We set to the fight with a die-hard zeal.
The fight soon became a matter of nailing as many people as possible while dodging attacks from others. I was exceptional at both and furthered the immaturity by catcalling and shouting silly insults at my victims.
By the time someone noticed what we were doing and yelled at us, we were all laughing and covered with snow. Mason and I once again started back for the lodge, and our mood was so high, I knew the Adrian thing was long forgotten.
Indeed, Mason looked at me just before we went inside. "Sorry I, uh, jumped all over you about Adrian earlier."
I squeezed his hand. "It's okay. I know Mia can tell some pretty convincing stories."
"Yeah … but even if you were with him … it's not like I have any right … "
I stared at him, surprised to see his usual brash countenance turn shy. "Don't you?" I asked.
A smile turned up his lips. "Do I?"
Smiling back, I stepped forward and kissed him. His lips felt amazingly warm in the freezing air. It wasn't like the earth-shattering kiss I'd had with Dimitri before the trip, but it was sweet and nice-a friendly sort of kiss that maybe could turn into more. At least, that was how I saw it. From the look on Mason's face, it appeared his whole world had been rocked.
"Wow," he said, eyes wide. The moonlight made his eyes look silvery blue.
"You see?" I said. "Nothing to worry about. Not Adrian, not anybody."
We kissed again-a bit longer this time-before finally dragging ourselves apart. Mason was clearly in a better mood, as well as he should have been, and I dropped into bed with a smile on my face. I wasn't technically sure if Mason and I were a couple now, but we were very close to it.
But when I slept, I dreamed about Adrian Ivashkov.
I stood with him on the porch again, only it was summer. The air was balmy and warm, and the sun hung bright in the sky, coating everything in golden light. I hadn't been in this much sun since living among humans. All around, the mountains and valleys were green and alive. Birds sang everywhere.
Adrian leaned against the porch's railing, glanced over, and did a double-take when he saw me. "Oh. Didn't expect to see you here." He smiled. "I was right. You are devastating when you're cleaned up."
Instinctively, I touched the skin around my eye.
"It's gone," he said.
Even without being able to see it, I somehow knew he was right. "You aren't smoking."
"Bad habit," he said. He nodded toward me. "You scared? You're wearing a lot of protection."
I frowned, then looked down. I hadn't noticed my clothing. I wore a pair of embroidered jeans I'd seen once but had been unable to afford. My T-shirt was cropped, showing off my stomach, and I wore a belly-button ring. I'd always wanted to get my belly button pierced but had never been able to afford it. The charm I now wore here was a little silver dangly one, and hanging at the end of it was that weird blue eye pendant my mom had given me. Lissa's chotki was wound around my wrist.
I looked back up at Adrian, studying the way the sun shone off his brown hair. Here, in full daylight, I could see that his eyes were indeed green-a deep emerald as opposed to Lissa's pale jade. Something startling suddenly occurred to me.
"Doesn't all this sun bother you?"
He gave a lazy shrug. "Nah. It's my dream."
"No, it's my dream."
"Are you sure?" His smile returned.
I felt confused. "I … I don't know."
He chuckled, but a moment later, the laugher faded. For the first time since I'd met him, he looked serious. "Why do you have so much darkness around you?"
I frowned. "What?"
"You're surrounded in blackness." His eyes studied me shrewdly, but not in a checking-me-out sort of way. "I've never seen anyone like you. Shadows everywhere. I never would have guessed it. Even while you're standing here, the shadows keep growing."
I looked down at my hands but saw nothing out of the ordinary. I glanced back up. "I'm shadow-kissed … ."
"What's that mean?"
"I died once." I'd never talked to anyone other than Lissa and Victor Dashkov about that, but this was a dream. It didn't matter. "And I came back."
Wonder lit his face. "Ah, interesting … "
I woke up.
Someone was shaking me. It was Lissa. Her feelings hit me so hard through the bond that I briefly snapped into her mind and found myself looking at me. «Weird» didn't begin to cover it. I pulled back into myself, trying to sift through the terror and alarm coming from her.
"What's wrong?"
"There's been another Strigoi attack."
CHAPTER 12
I was out of bed in a flash. We found the entire lodge abuzz with the news. People clustered in small groups in the halls. Family members sought each other out. Some conversations were conducted in terrified whispers; some were loud and easy to overhear. I stopped a few people, trying to get the story straight. Everyone had a different version of what had happened, though, and some wouldn't even pause to talk. They hurried past, either seeking out loved ones or preparing to leave the resort, convinced there might be a safer place elsewhere.