“. . . he felt himself entering a moment so real he could only run toward it, shouting.”
“Constantine, eight years old, was working in his father's garden and thinking about his own garden, a square of powdered granite he had staked out and combed into rows at the top of his family's land.”
“Zoe loved Trancas's mother. She respected her exhausted and ironic hope for rebirth.”
“My little girl, oh, the daughter I never had. Now tell me, angel, are you fucking anybody new?”
“...a much younger woman, one of those round-faced, tiny-featured women who were touted as beauties though they were not in fact particularly beautiful. They were simply the daughters of wealthy families powerful enough to demand that the concept of beauty be expanded to include them.”
“Sweet dreams though the guns are booming.”
“Oh. My. God. You're Rose Hathaway aren't you?"
"Yeah." I said with surprise. "Do you know me?"
"Everyone knows you. I mean, everyone heard about you. You're the one who ran away. And then you came back and killed the Strigoi. That is so cool! Did you get molnija marks?" Her words came out in one long string. She hardly took a breath.
"Yeah. I have two." Thinking about the tiny tattoos on the back of my neck made my skin itch.
Her pale green eyes—if possible—grew wider. "Oh my God. Wow." I usually grew irate when people made a big deal about molnija marks. After all, the circumstances had not been cool. But this girl was young, and there was something appealing about her.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Jillian—Jill. I mean, just Jill. Not both. Jillian's my full name. Jill's what everyone calls me."
"Right." I said, hiding a smile. "I figured it out."
"I heard Moroi used magic on that trip to fight. Is that true? I would love to do that. I wish someone would teach me. I use air. Do you think i could fight Strigoi with that? Everyone says I'm crazy!" For centuries, Moroi using magic to fight had been viewed as a sin. Everyone believed it should be used peacefully. Recently, some had started to question that, particularly after Christian had proved useful in the Spokane escape.
"I don't know." I said. "You should talk to Christian Ozera."
She gaped. "Would he talk to me?"
"If you bring up fighting the establishment, yeah he'll talk to you."
"Okay, cool. Was that Guardian Belikov?" she asked, switching subjects abruptly.
"Yeah."
I swore I thought she might faint then and there. "Really? He's even cuter then I heard. He's your teacher right? Like, your own personal teacher?"
"Yeah." I wondered where he was. Talking to Jill was exhausting.
"Wow. You know you guys don't even act like teacher and student. You seem like friends. Do you hang out when you're not training?"
"Er, well, kind of. Sometimes." I remembered my earlier thoughts, about how I was one of the few people Dimitri was social with outside of his guardian duties.
"I knew it! I can't even imagine that—I'd be freaking out all the time around him. I'd never get anything done, but your so cool about it all, kind of like, 'Yeah. I'm with this totally hot guy, but whatever it doesn't matter!'"
I laughed in spite of myself. "I think you're giving me more credit than I deserve."
"No way. And I don't believe any of those stories, you know."
"Um, stories?"
"Yeah about you beating up Christian Ozera."
"Thanks." I said.”
“He'll be coming and going" he had said. "One day you'll see him and another you won't. He doesn't like being tied down--and of course he has other countries to attend to. It's quite all right. He'll often drop in. Only you mustn't press him. He's wild, you know. Not like a tame lion.”
“A sad smile crossed her face, and I knew right then what she was trying to tell me. Her eyes never left mine as she finally said the words that numbed my soul.
I'm dying, Landon.”
“I do know who you are. I just needed to be reminded.”
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