Silver Shadows (Bloodlines #5)(12)
Author: Richelle Mead

Snickers sounded from around the class, and I found myself blushing in spite of myself. “That wasn’t my intent here at all, sir. I’m just saying, if we’re going to critically analyze the reasons why—”

“Sydney,” he interrupted, “I’m afraid we won’t be analyzing anything, as it’s obvious you aren’t quite ready to participate with the rest of us.”

My heart stopped. No. No, no, no. They couldn’t send me back to the darkness, not when I’d only just gotten out.

“Sir—”

“I think,” he continued, “that a little purging might make you better able to participate with the rest of us.”

I had no idea what that meant, but two burly men in suits suddenly entered the classroom, which must have been under surveillance. I attempted another protest to Harrison, but the men swiftly escorted me out of the room before I could make much of a plea to my instructor. So I tried arguing with the henchmen instead, going on about how there was clearly some sort of misunderstanding and how if they’d just give me a second chance, we could work all of this out. They remained silent and stone-faced, however, and my stomach sank at the prospect of being locked away again. I’d been so condescending toward what I viewed as the Alchemists’ mind games with creature comforts that I hadn’t realized how dependent I’d already grown on them. The thought of being stripped of my dignity and basic needs again was almost too much to bear.

But they only took me down one floor this time, not back to the level with the cells. And the room they led me to was painfully well-lit, with a larger monitor at the front of the room and a huge armchair with manacles facing it. Sheridan stood nearby, looking serene as ever . . . and she was brandishing a needle.

It wasn’t a tattooist’s needle either. It was a big, wicked-looking thing, the kind you used for medical injections. “Sydney,” she said sweetly, as the men strapped me down in the chair. “What a shame I have to see you again so soon.”

CHAPTER 4

ADRIAN

I HAD SO MANY QUESTIONS for my mom that it was hard to know where to begin. Probably the most important one was what she was even doing here, since last I’d known she was serving time in a Moroi prison for perjury and interfering with a murder investigation.

“We’ll have plenty of time to talk later,” she insisted. “Right now we have a flight to catch. Human boy, can you find us a suitcase?”

“His name is Trey,” I said. “And he’s my roommate, not my valet.” I staggered to my closet and pulled out the suitcase I’d brought when I first came to Palm Springs. My mom took it from me and began packing up my room’s belongings as though I were eight again.

“You’re leaving?” asked Trey, looking as dumbfounded as I felt.

“I guess I am.” I thought about it a little more, and suddenly, it seemed like a great idea. Why was I still here, torturing myself in a desert? Sydney was gone. Jill was making rapid strides in learning to block me through the bond, thanks to my extreme behavior recently. Besides, she’d be leaving here in another month as well. “Yes,” I said more confidently. “I’m definitely leaving. It’s prepaid through fall. You can stay on.”

I needed to be away from this place and its memories of Sydney. She was everywhere I looked, not just in this apartment but also at Amberwood and even Palm Springs at large. Every place brought up some image of her, and although I hadn’t given up on finding her, I’d continue doing so in a place that didn’t cause me so much pain. Maybe this was the fresh start I needed.

That . . . and my mom was back! I’d missed her deeply, in a different way from Sydney, and had almost as little contact. My mother hadn’t wanted me to reach her in dreams, and my father wouldn’t deliver any letters. I’d worried about how Daniella Ivashkov had survived in a prison, but watching her now, she seemed no worse for it. She seemed as elegant as ever, well-dressed and well-made-up, moving around my room with that single-minded authority and confidence that defined her—and had played a role in her arrest.

“Here,” she said, handing me something from the dresser. “Keep these on you. You don’t want to check them in your luggage.”

I looked down and was met with a sparkling array of diamonds and rubies set in platinum. They’d been a gift from my Aunt Tatiana. She’d given them to me “for special occasions,” as though I’d have all sorts of reasons to wear thousands of dollars on my sleeves. Maybe I would have if I’d stayed at Court. Mostly in Palm Springs, they’d been a temptation, one I’d nearly pawned in a desperate attempt to get some cash. I squeezed them tightly a few moments now, letting the sharp corners dig into my palms, and then slipped them into my pocket.

My mom finished the suitcase in less than ten minutes. When I pointed out she’d only packed a fraction of my belongings, she waved my concern off. “No time. We’ll buy you new things at Court.”

So. We were going to Court. I wasn’t entirely surprised. My family had a few other guesthouses around the world, but the Moroi Court in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania was their primary residence. Honestly, I didn’t care where we were going as long as it was away from here.

In the living room, I found a watchful guardian waiting for us. My mom introduced him as Dale and said he’d also be our driver. I made an awkward farewell with Trey, who still seemed stunned by the abrupt turn of events. He asked if I wanted to send a message through him to Jill or the others, which gave me pause. At last, I shook my head.

“No need.”

Jill would understand why I needed to leave, why I needed to get away from my memories and my failures. Anything I told her in words would pale to what she’d learn from the bond, and she could either tell the others or come up with a pretty story for me. Eddie would think I was running away, but staying here for three months had brought me closer to only misery, not Sydney. Maybe this change of venue was what I needed.

My mom had booked us first-class seats to Pennsylvania, with Dale sitting right across the aisle. After living a frugal college student’s life for so long, that kind of expense made my mind reel a little, yet the more I sat with my mom, the more natural it became. A flight attendant came around offering drinks, but my pounding head made me abstain and stick to water. That, and I wanted my wits about me to hear what my mom had to say.

“I’ve been home for a week,” she said, as though she’d been away on holiday. “Naturally, I’ve been busy getting things back in order there, but you were first and foremost on my mind.”