Frostbite(Vampire Academy, Book 2)(23)

Frustrated with the differing stories, I finally-reluctantly-knew I had to seek out one of the two sources who would give me solid information. My mother or Dimitri. It was like flipping a coin. I wasn't really thrilled with either one of them right now. I debated momentarily and finally decided on my mother, seeing as how she wasn't getting it on with Tasha Ozera.

The door to my mother's room was ajar, and as Lissa and I entered, I saw that a sort of makeshift headquarters had been established here. Lots of guardians were milling around, moving in and out, and discussing strategy. A few gave us odd looks, but no one stopped or questioned us. Lissa and I slid onto a small sofa to listen to a conversation my mother was having.

She stood with a group of guardians, one of whom was Dimitri. So much for avoiding him. His brown eyes glanced at me briefly and I averted my gaze. I didn't want to deal with my troubled feelings for him right now.

Lissa and I soon discerned the details. Eight Moroi had been killed along with their five guardians. Three Moroi were missing, either dead or turned Strigoi. The attack hadn't really happened near here; it had been somewhere in northern California. Nonetheless, a tragedy like this couldn't help but reverberate within the Moroi world, and for some, two states away was far too close. People were terrified, and I soon learned what in particular made this attack so notable.

"There had to be more than last time," said my mother.

"More?" exclaimed one of the other guardians. "That last group was unheard of. I still can't believe nine Strigoi managed to work together-you expect me to believe they managed to get more organized still?"

"Yes," snapped my mother.

"Any evidence of humans?" someone else asked.

My mother hesitated, then: "Yes. More broken wards. And the way it was all conducted … it's identical to the Badica attack."

Her voice was hard, but there was a kind of weariness in it, too. It wasn't physical exhaustion, though. It was mental, I realized. Strain and hurt over what they were talking about. I always thought of my mother as some sort of unfeeling killing machine, but this was clearly hard for her. It was a hard, ugly matter to discuss-but at the same time, she was tackling it without hesitation. It was her duty.

A lump formed in my throat that I quickly swallowed down. Humans. Identical to the Badica attack. Ever since that massacre, we'd extensively analyzed the oddity of such a large group of Strigoi teaming up and recruiting humans. We'd spoken in vague terms about "if something like this ever happens again  … " But no one had seriously talked about this group-the Badica killers-doing it again. One time was a fluke-maybe a bunch of Strigoi had happened to gather and impulsively decided to go on a raid. It was horrible, but we could write that off.

But now … now it looked as though that group of Strigoi hadn't been a random occurrence. They'd united with purpose, utilized humans strategically, and had attacked again. We now had what could be a pattern: Strigoi actively seeking out large groups of prey. Serial killings. We could no longer trust the protective magic of the wards. We couldn't even trust sunlight. Humans could move around in the day, scouting and sabotaging. The light was no longer safe.

I remembered what I'd said to Dimitri at the Badica house: This changes everything, doesn't it?

My mother flipped through some papers on a clipboard. "They don't have forensic details yet, but the same number of Strigoi couldn't have done this. None of the Drozdovs or their staff escaped. With five guardians, seven Strigoi would have been preoccupied-at least temporarily-for some to escape. We're looking at nine or ten, maybe."

"Janine's right," said Dimitri. "And if you look at the venue … it's too big. Seven couldn't have covered it."

The Drozdovs were one of the twelve royal families. They were large and prosperous, not like Lissa's dying clan. They had plenty of family members to go around, but obviously, an attack like this was still horrible. Furthermore, something about them tickled my brain. There was something I should remember  …  something I should know about the Drozdovs.

While part of my mind puzzled that out, I watched my mother with fascination. I'd listened to her tell her stories. I'd seen and felt her fight. But really, truly, I'd never seen her in action in a real-life crisis. She showed every bit of that hard control she did around me, but here, I could see how necessary it was. A situation like this created panic. Even among the guardians, I could sense those who were so keyed up that they wanted to do something drastic. My mother was a voice of reason, a reminder that they had to stay focused and fully assess the situation. Her composure calmed everybody; her strong manner inspired them. This, I realized, was how a leader behaved.

Dimitri was just as collected as she was, but he deferred to her to run things. I had to remind myself sometimes that he was young as far as guardians went. They discussed the attack more, how the Drozdovs had been having a belated Christmas party in a banquet hall when they were attacked.

"First Badicas, now Drozdovs," muttered one guardian. "They're going after royals."

"They're going after Moroi," said Dimitri flatly. "Royal. Non-royal. It doesn't matter."

Royal. Non-royal. I suddenly knew why the Drozdovs were important. My spontaneous instincts wanted me to jump up and ask a question right now, but I knew better. This was the real deal. This was no time for irrational behavior. I wanted to be as strong as my mother and Dimitri, so I waited for the discussion to end.

When the group started to break up, I leapt up off the sofa and pushed my way toward my mother.

"Rose," she said, surprised. Like in Stan's class, she hadn't noticed me in the room. "What are you doing here?"

It was such a stupid question, I didn't try to answer it. What did she think I was doing here? This was one of the biggest things to happen to the Moroi.

I pointed to her clipboard. "Who else was killed?"

Irritation wrinkled her forehead. "Drozdovs."

"But who else?"

"Rose, we don't have time-"

"They had staff, right? Dimitri said non-royals. Who were they?"

Again, I saw the weariness in her. She took these deaths hard. "I don't know all the names." Flipping through a few pages, she turned the clipboard toward me. "There."

I scanned the list. My heart sank.

"Okay," I told her. "Thanks."

Lissa and I left them to go about their business. I wished I could have helped, but the guardians ran smoothly and efficiently on their own; they had no need for novices underfoot.

"What was that about?" asked Lissa, once we were heading back to the main part of the lodge.

"The Drozdovs' staff," I said. "Mia's mom worked for them … ."

Lissa gasped. "And?"

I sighed. "And her name was on the list."

"Oh God." Lissa stopped walking. She stared off into space, blinking back tears. "Oh God," she repeated.

I moved in front of her and placed my hands on her shoulders. She was shaking.

"It's okay," I said. Her fear came to me in waves, but it was a numbed fear. Shock. "This is going to be okay."

"You heard them," she said. "There's a band of Strigoi organizing and attacking us! How many? Are they coming here?"

"No," I said firmly. I had no evidence of that, of course. "We're safe here."

"Poor Mia  … "

There was nothing I could say to that. I thought Mia was an absolute bitch, but I wouldn't wish this on anyone, not even my worst enemy-which, technically, she was. Immediately, I corrected that thought. Mia wasn't my worst enemy.

I couldn't bear to leave Lissa's side for the rest of the day. I knew there were no Strigoi lurking in the lodge, but my protective instincts ran too strong. Guardians protected their Moroi. Like usual, I also worried about her being anxious and upset, so I did my best to diffuse those feelings.

The other guardians provided reassurance for Moroi too. They didn't walk side by side with the Moroi, but they reinforced lodge security and stayed in constant communication with guardians at the scene of the attack. Information flowed in all day about the grisly specifics, as well as speculation about where the band of Strigoi was. Little of this was shared with novices, of course.

While the guardians did what they did best, the Moroi also did what they-unfortunately-did best: talk.

With so many royals and other important Moroi at the lodge, a meeting was organized that night to discuss what had happened and what might be done in the future. Nothing official would be decided here; the Moroi had a queen and a governing council elsewhere for those types of decisions. Everyone knew, though, that opinions gathered here would make their way up the chain of command. Our future safety could very well depend on what was discussed in this meeting.

It was held in an enormous banquet hall inside the lodge, one with a podium and plenty of seating. Despite the businesslike atmosphere, you could tell this room had been designed for things other than meetings about massacres and defense. The carpet had the texture of velvet and showed an ornate floral design in shades of silver and black. The chairs were made of black polished wood and had high backs, clearly intended for fancy dining. Paintings of long-dead Moroi royalty hung on the walls. I stared briefly at one of a queen whose name I didn't know. She wore an old-fashioned dress-too heavy on lace for my tastes-and had pale hair like Lissa's.