He knows, I realized. He knows how I feel about vampires. Of course, everyone knew. Alchemists made no secret about how we believed most vampires and dhampirs were dark creatures who had no business interacting with humans. Because I was with them so often, however, I didn't think my cohort here in Palm Springs really understood how deeply that belief ran. They understood it in theory but didn't really feel it. They had no reason to since they hardly ever saw any evidence of it in me.
But Adrian understood. I didn't know how, but he did. I thought back on the handful of times I'd freaked out around them since being in Palm Springs. Once had been at a mini-golf course when Jill had used her water magic. Another time had been with the Strigoi and Lee, when Adrian had offered to heal me with his magic. Those were small lapses of control for me, ones none of the others had even noticed. Adrian had.
How was it that Adrian Ivashkov, who never seemed to take anything seriously, was the only one among these "responsible" people who had paid attention to such small details?
How was he the only one to really understand the magnitude of what I was feeling?
When the time came to leave, I drove Adrian home along with the rest of us Amberwood students. More silence persisted in the car. Once Adrian had been dropped off, Eddie relaxed and shook his head.
"Man. I don't think I've ever seen Adrian so mad. Actually, I've never seen Adrian mad at all."
"He wasn't that mad," I said evasively, eyes on the road.
"He seemed pretty mad to me," said Angeline. "I thought he was going to jump up and attack Dimitri."
Eddie scoffed. "I don't think it was going to quite reach that point."
"I dunno," she mused. "I think he was ready to take on anyone who messed with you, Sydney."
I continued staring ahead, refusing to look at any of them. The whole encounter had left me feeling confused. Why had Adrian protected me? "I offered to do him a favor next weekend," I said. "I think he feels like he owes me."
Jill, sitting beside me in the passenger seat, had been quiet thus far. With the bond, she might know the answer. "No," she said, a puzzled note in her voice. "He would have done it for you regardless."
Chapter 7
I SPENT MOST OF THE NEXT DAY wrestling with my refusal to help Sonya, ruminating over the decision as I went from class to class. There was a part of me that felt bad about not giving blood for the experiments. After all, I knew what they were doing was useful. If there was a way to protect Moroi from becoming Strigoi, then that could theoretically be applied to humans too. That could revolutionize the way the Alchemists operated. People like that creepy guy Liam being held at the bunker would no longer be a threat. He could be "sterilized" and released, with no fear of him falling prey to the corruption of Strigoi. I knew also that Sonya and the others were running into walls with their research. They couldn't find any reason for what had made Lee impervious to turning Strigoi.
At the same time, despite the worthiness of the cause, I still felt staunchly opposed to giving up my own blood. I really was afraid that doing so would subject me to more and more experiments.
And I just couldn't face that. There was nothing special about me. I hadn't undergone a massive transformation via spirit. Lee and I hadn't had anything in common. I was the same as any other human, any other Alchemist. I just apparently had bad tasting blood, which was fine by me.
"Tell me about the charm spell," Ms. Terwilliger said one afternoon. It was a few days after Clarence's, and I was still mulling over those events even while ostensibly doing work in her independent study.
I looked up from the book in front of me. "Which variant? The charisma one or the meta one?"
She was sitting at her desk and smiled at me. "For someone so against all of this, you certainly learn well. The meta one."
That had been a recent spell I'd had to learn. It was fresh in my mind, but I made sure to sigh heavily and let her know in a passive aggressive way how inconvenient this was for me.
"It allows the caster to have short-term control of someone. The caster has to create a physical amulet that he or she wears..." I frowned as I considered that part of the spell. "And then recite a short incantation on the person being controlled." Ms. Terwilliger pushed her glasses up her nose. "Why the hesitation?" She noticed every slip. I didn't want to engage in this, but she was my teacher, and this was part of my assignment so long as I was stuck in this miserable session. "It doesn't make sense. Well, none of it makes sense, of course. But logically, I'd think you need something tangible to use on the vict - subject. Maybe they'd have to wear an amulet. Or drink something. It's hard for me to believe the caster is the only one who needs enhancement. I feel like they would need to connect with the subject."
"You touched on the key word," she said. "'Enhancement.' The amulet enhances the spell caster's will, as does the incantation. If that's been done correctly - and the caster is advanced and strong enough - that'll push the power of command on to the subject. Perhaps it doesn't seem tangible, but the mind is a powerful tool."