"Oh, I see," he said in an exaggerated tone. "You grill me like crazy about how to see auras and walk in dreams, but now you won't reveal your trade secrets."
"It's not a 'won't,'" she argued. "It's a 'can't.'"
"Well, cousin, try." Then suddenly he raked his nails across his hand and drew blood.
"Jesus Christ!" I yelped. "Are you insane?" Who was I kidding? Of course he was.
Lissa reached out and held his hand, and just like before, she healed the skin. Elation filled her, but my mood suddenly dropped without any real cause.
The two of them launched into a discussion I couldn't follow, using standard magical terms as well as some terms I was pretty sure they'd invented on the spot. Judging from Christian's face, it looked like he didn't understand either, and it soon became clear that Adrian and Lissa had forgotten us in their zeal over the mystery of spirit.
Christian finally stood up, looking bored. "Come on, Rose. If I wanted to listen to this, I'd be back in class. I'm hungry."
Lissa glanced up. "Dinner's not for another hour and a half."
"Feeder," he said. "I haven't had mine today."
He planted a kiss on Lissa's cheek and then left. I followed alongside him. It had started snowing again, and I glared at the flakes accusingly as they drifted down around us. When it had first started snowing in early December, I'd been excited. Now this white stuff was getting pretty damned old. As it had a few nights ago, though, being out in such harsh weather defused my mood a little, the cold air kind of snapping me out of it. With each step closer to the feeders, I felt myself calming down.
A "feeder" was what we called humans who volunteered to be regular sources of blood for Moroi. Unlike Strigoi, who killed the victims they drank from, Moroi took only small quantities each day and didn't have to kill the donor. These humans lived for the high they got from vampire bites and seemed perfectly happy to spend their lives that way and separate from normal human society. It was weird but necessary for Moroi. The school usually had a feeder or two in the Moroi dorms for overnight hours, but for most of the day, students had to go to the commons to get their daily fix.
As I continued walking, taking in the sights of white trees, white fences, and white boulders, something else white in the landscape caught my attention. Well, it wasn't white exactly. There was color - pale, washed-out color.
I came to an abrupt halt and felt my eyes go wide. Mason stood on the other side of the quad, nearly blending in with a tree and a post. No, I thought. I'd convinced myself that this was over, but there he was, looking at me with that sorrowful, phantom face. He pointed, off toward the back of campus. I glanced that way but again had no clue what to look for. Turning back to him, I could only stare, fear twisting within me.
An icy-cold hand touched the side of my neck, and I spun around. It was Christian.
"What's up?" he asked.
I looked back to where I'd seen Mason. He was gone, of course. I squeezed my eyes shut a moment and sighed. Then, turning back to Christian, I kept walking and said, "Nothing."
Christian usually always had some witty stream of comments whenever we were together, but he was silent as we made the rest of our journey. I was consumed with my own thoughts and worries about Mason, so I had little to say either. This sighting had only lasted a few seconds. Considering how hard it was to see out there, it seemed more than likely that he'd been a trick of the eye, right? I tried to convince myself of this for the rest of the walk. When we entered the commons and escaped the cold, it finally hit me that something was amiss with Christian.
"What's wrong?" I asked, trying not to think about Mason. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," he said.
"The way you just said that proves you aren't fine."
He ignored me as we went to the feeders' room. It was busier than I'd expected, and all of the little cubicles that feeders sat in were filled with Moroi. Brandon Lazar was one of them. As he fed, I caught a glimpse of a faded green bruise on his cheek and recalled that I never had found out who had beaten him up. Christian checked in with the Moroi at the door and then stood in the waiting area until he was called. I racked my brain, trying to figure out what could have caused Christian's bad mood.
"What's the matter? Didn't you like the movie?"
No answer.
"Grossed out by Adrian's self-mutilation?" Giving Christian a hard time was a guilty pleasure. I could do this all night.
No answer.
"Are you - Oh."
It hit me then. I was surprised I hadn't thought of this before.
"Are you upset that Lissa wanted to talk magic with Adrian?"
He shrugged, which told me all I needed to know.
"Come on, she doesn't like magic more than she likes you. It's just this thing with her, you know? She spent all these years thinking she couldn't do real magic, and then found out she could - except it was this wacky, completely unpredictable kind. She's just trying to understand it."