"You just said you could."
"I can-just not right now. I take this prescription … for depression and other stuff … and it cuts me off from the magic."
He threw his arms up in the air. "How can I teach you to walk through dreams then? How else are we going to find Rose?"
"Look," she said angrily, "I don't want to take the meds. But when I was off them … I did really crazy stuff. Dangerous stuff. That's what spirit does to you."
"I don't take anything. I'm okay," he said.
No, he wasn't, I realized. Lissa realized it too.
"You got really weird that day when Dimitri was in your room," she pointed out. "You started rambling, and you didn't make any sense."
"Oh, that? Yeah … it happens now and then. But seriously, not often. Once a month, if that." He sounded sincere.
Lissa stared at him, suddenly reevaluating everything. What if Adrian could do it? What if he could use spirit without pills and without any harmful side effects? It would be everything she had been hoping for. Besides, she wasn't even sure if the pills would keep working anymore … .
He smiled, guessing what she was thinking.
"What do you say, cousin?" he asked. He didn't need to use compulsion. His offer was plenty tempting in its own right. "I can teach you everything I know if you're able to touch the magic. It'll take a while for the pills to get out of your system, but once they do … "
CHAPTER 21
This was so not what I needed right now. I could have handled anything else Adrian did: hitting on her, getting her to smoke his ridiculous cigarettes, whatever. But not this. Lissa quitting those pills was exactly what I'd wanted to avoid.
Reluctantly I pulled out of her head and returned to my own grim situation. I would have liked to see what further developed with Adrian and Lissa, but watching them would do no good. Okay. I really needed a plan now. I needed action. I needed to get us out of here. But, glancing around me, I found myself no closer to escape than I had been earlier, and I spent the next few hours brooding and speculating.
We had three guards today. They looked a little bored but not enough to slack off. Nearby, Eddie appeared unconscious, and Mason stared blankly at the floor. Across the room, Christian glared at nothing in particular, and I think Mia was sleeping. Painfully aware of how dry my throat was, I almost laughed in recalling how I'd told her water magic was useless. It might not do much in a fight, but I would have given anything for her to summon up some-
Magic.
Why hadn't I thought of this before? We weren't helpless. Not entirely.
A plan slowly coalesced in my mind-a plan that was probably insane but was also the best we had. My heart thudded with anticipation, and I immediately schooled my features to calmness before the guards noticed my sudden insight. On the opposite side of the room, Christian was watching me. He'd seen the brief flare of excitement and realized I'd thought of something. He watched me curiously, as ready for action as I was.
God. How could we pull this off? I needed his help, but I had no real way of letting him know what I had in mind. In fact, I wasn't even sure if he could help me at all-he was pretty weak.
I held his gaze, willing him to understand that something was going to happen. There was confusion on his face, but it was paired with determination. After making sure none of the guards were looking directly at me, I shifted slightly, giving a small tug at my wrists. I glanced behind me as much as I could, then met Christian's eyes again. He frowned, and I repeated the gesture.
"Hey," I said loudly. Mia and Mason both jerked in surprise. "Are you guys really going to keep starving us? Can't we at least have some water or something?"
"Shut up," said one of the guards. It was a pretty standard answer whenever any of us spoke.
"Come on." I used my best bitchy voice. "Not even like a sip of something? My throat's burning. Practically on fire." My gaze flicked to Christian as I said those last few words, then returned to the guard who'd spoken.
As expected, he rose from his seat and lurched toward me. "Do not make me repeat myself," he growled. I didn't know if he'd really do anything violent, but I had no interest in pushing it just yet. Besides, I'd accomplished my goal. If Christian couldn't take the hint, there was nothing else to be done for it. Hoping I looked afraid, I shut up.
The guard returned to his seat, and after a while, he stopped watching me. I looked at Christian again and gave the wrist tug. Come on, come on, I thought. Put it together, Christian.
His eyebrows suddenly shot up, and he stared at me in amazement. Well. He'd apparently figured out something. I just hoped it was what I'd wanted. His look turned questioning, as though asking if I was really serious. I nodded emphatically. He frowned in thought for a few moments and then took a deep, steadying breath.
"All right," he said. Everyone jumped again.
"Shut up," said one of the guards automatically. He sounded weary.
"No," said Christian. "I'm ready. Ready to drink."
Everyone in the room froze for the space of a few heartbeats, including me. This wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind.
The guards' leader stood up. "Do not screw around with us."
"I'm not," said Christian. He had a feverish, desperate look on his face that I didn't think was entirely faked. "I'm tired of this. I want to get out of here, and I don't want to die. I'll drink-and I want her." He nodded toward me. Mia squeaked in alarm. Mason called Christian something that would have earned him a detention back at school.
This definitely wasn't what I'd had in mind.
The other two guards looked to their leader questioningly. "Should we get Isaiah?" asked one of them.
"I don't think he's here," said the leader. He studied Christian for a few seconds and then made a decision. "And I don't want to bother him anyway if this is a joke. Let him go, and we'll see."
One of the men produced a pair of sharp pliers. He moved behind Christian and leaned down. I heard the sound of plastic popping as the flex-cuffs gave way. Grabbing a hold of Christian's arm, the guard jerked him upright and led him over to me.
"Christian," exclaimed Mason, fury filling his voice. He struggled against his constraints, shaking his chair a little. "Are you out of your mind? Don't let them do this!"
"You guys have to die, but I don't," snapped Christian, tossing his black hair out of his eyes. "There's no other way out of this."
I didn't really know what was going on now, but I was pretty sure I should be showing a lot more emotion if I was about to die. Two guards flanked Christian on either side, watching warily as he leaned toward me.
"Christian," I whispered, surprised at how easy it was to sound afraid. "Don't do this."
His lips twisted into one of the bitter smiles he produced so well. "You and I have never liked each other, Rose. If I've got to kill someone, it might as well be you." His words were icy, precise. Believable. "Besides, I thought you wanted this."
"Not this. Please, don't-"
One of the guards shoved Christian. "Get it over with, or get back to your chair."
Still wearing that dark smile, Christian shrugged. "Sorry, Rose. You're going to die anyway. Why not do it for a good cause?" He brought his face down to my neck. "This is probably going to hurt," he added.
I actually doubted it would … if he was really going to do it. Because he wasn't … right? I shifted uneasily. By all accounts, if you got all your blood sucked out of you, you also got enough endorphins pumped in during the process to dull most of the pain. It was like going to sleep. Of course, that was all speculation. People who died from vampire bites didn't really come back to report on the experience.
Christian nuzzled my neck, moving his face under my hair so that it partially obscured him. His lips brushed my skin, every bit as soft as I recalled from when he and Lissa kissed. A moment later, the points of his fangs touched my skin.
And then I felt pain. Real pain.
But it wasn't coming from the bite. His teeth only pressed against my skin; they didn't break it. His tongue moved against my neck in a lapping motion, but there was no blood to suck. If anything, it was more like some kind of weird, twisted kiss.
No, the pain came from my wrists. A burning pain. Christian was using his magic to channel heat into my flex-cuffs, just as I had wanted him to. He'd understood my message. The plastic grew hotter and hotter as he continued his barely there drinking. Anyone who'd been looking closely would have been able to tell he was half-faking it, but too much of my hair was blocking the guards' view.
I knew plastic was hard to melt, but only now did I really, really understand what that meant. The temperatures required to do any damage were off the charts. It was like plunging my hands into lava. The flex-cuffs seared my skin, hot and terrible. I squirmed, hoping I could relieve the pain. I couldn't. What I did notice, however, was that the cuffs gave a little when I moved. They were getting softer. Okay. That was something. I just had to hold out a little longer. Desperately, I tried to focus on Christian's bite and distract myself. It worked for about five seconds. He wasn't giving me much in the way of endorphins, certainly not enough to combat that increasingly horrible pain. I whimpered, probably making myself more convincing.