“It depends on how you define ‘okay,’” Sonya replied. “The doctor thinks her difficulties with waking up are due to exhaustion. She’ll hopefully come around with a little more rest. But as for what state she’ll be in . . .”
“If she’s so worn out, that would explain why she’s not making any sense,” Adrian said quickly. I could tell he very, very badly wanted to believe that. “Hell, you should see me after pulling an all-nighter. I make her sound totally articulate and lucid.”
Sonya didn’t laugh at the joke. “It’s possible . . . but I don’t think it’s that simple. I’ve seen her aura. That tells its own tale, and it’s not a good one. Plus, I’ve spent a lot of time with Avery Lazar, Adrian. I’ve seen what spirit did to her—and this has a very similar feel.”
“So what are you saying?” I asked, surprised at the lump in my throat. I didn’t even know Nina that well, but there was something chilling in listening to this grim prognosis—maybe because I feared one day, we’d be talking about Adrian.
Sonya suddenly looked tired, as though she were the one who’d expended so much power and energy and needed to sleep. “I’m saying, when Nina comes around, she may not be the same Nina we knew. What happened? I thought you were going to keep her from using excessive spirit?”
“I tried. I really did.” Adrian leaned against me, and I rested my arm on his back. “I led the dream. I did most of the work when Olive took control—but Nina got impatient and took over. She blew through everything before I could stop her.”
Sonya nodded wearily. “Were you able to talk to Olive at least?”
“Not really,” he said carefully. I kept my own face schooled to neutrality, lest I give away that he wasn’t telling the whole truth. He held up the piece of paper he’d sketched on for me. “Does this mean anything to you?”
“No, I’m sorry.” Sonya looked down and grimaced. “I’m getting a text from the doctor monitoring Nina. They have some more questions for me. I’ll be in touch if I learn more.”
Adrian gave a weak nod, and I clutched his hand. I knew he felt terrible, like he was personally responsible for Nina’s state. With Sonya gone from the call too, that left Rose, looking dismayed at the news.
“Well, I’m glad we got a lead on Jill,” she said. “But you guys really should have been more careful about—”
“What was that you showed Sonya?”
Dimitri suddenly joined Rose on the screen. She shot him an amused look. “Easy, comrade. You’ll get your chance to lecture them too.”
“Geez,” said Adrian. “How many other people are there lurking off-screen?”
“What was that you showed her?” Dimitri reiterated, his face hard as he peered at us. Even through a computer screen, he was intimidating.
Adrian held up the piece of paper again. “This?” He leaned forward eagerly. “Do you know what it is?”
“Yes, it’s—” Dimitri bit off his words and glanced at Rose, then back at the drawing. “It’s a kind of marker worn by women in, uh, dhampir communes.”
Rose had no problem stating what his delicate sensibilities had held back from. “A blood whore camp?” Her eyes widened, and suddenly, she turned as angry as Lissa had been earlier. “Adrian Ivashkov! You should be ashamed of yourself, going to a place like that, especially now that you’re married—”
Adrian scoffed. “Both of you, calm down. I’ve never set foot in one of those places, nor do I really want to.” He looked back at Dimitri. “What do you mean, it’s a marker?”
I could tell from Dimitri’s face that it wasn’t a topic he liked discussing, and frankly, I didn’t blame him. Moroi society hadn’t always treated dhampir women well. They could only have children with Moroi fathers, fathers who often viewed those women as little more than playthings. The standard practice for dhampir women who had children was to turn those children over early to one of the schools, like St. Vladimir’s, while the mother returned to guardian services. A lot of dhampir women didn’t like doing that, however. They wanted to raise their own children. Some would go off and blend into human society, but that was discouraged. Even if dhampirs looked identical to humans, dhampirs often demonstrated extraordinary physical abilities that called too much attention to them. Without other options, these dhampir women often banded together in “communes,” some more civilized than others. Some dhampir women found perfectly ordinary ways to survive . . . others turned to more desperate paths, which Dimitri confirmed.
“Members of these communes wear markers that show what their role is,” he explained. “Some are residents, some are guests. Some are women making themselves available to interested men—selling their bodies.”
“Disgusting,” said Rose.
I glanced at Adrian’s drawing, and a horrible, terrible thought occurred to me about Olive. Had she become that desperate? “Do you know what kind this is?” I asked.
Dimitri shook his head. “Not without color. These marks identify which commune it is. There’s usually a color on it to signify the person’s status.”