Silver Shadows (Bloodlines #5)(50)
Author: Richelle Mead

“You’ve been with us for some time now,” she explained. “Yet you’ve spoken very little about your past. Every day, the others open up about themselves, but you keep to yourself. That’s not really fair, now is it?”

I wanted to tell her that it was really none of their business, but I knew I should be grateful I wasn’t on the hook here for more immediate crimes. “What would you like to know, ma’am?”

“Why don’t you tell us why you’re here?”

“I . . .” My earlier cockiness dried up. Masterminding plans to break out of my room by sabotaging the lock so that I could then create magical protection for my fellow detainees didn’t faze me nearly as much as the scrutiny of all those eyes. It didn’t matter how friendly I’d gotten with a few of them. I didn’t want to share my story.

But you have to play the game, Sydney, I reminded myself. It doesn’t matter what you do, so long as you win at the end.

I focused back on Sheridan. “I broke some of the cardinal rules of the Alchemists. I went against our basic beliefs.”

“How?” she prompted.

I took a deep breath. “Because I became romantically involved with a Moroi.”

My gaze stayed on Sheridan. I was afraid to look at the others because even though we were all rebels of sorts, there were varying degrees of sin around here—and mine was pretty extreme.

“Why?” Sheridan asked.

I frowned. “Ma’am?”

“Why did you become romantically involved with such a foul creature? That doesn’t just go against Alchemist beliefs. That goes against the rules of nature. Why would you do that?”

My heart had an answer ready, but I didn’t let it cross my lips. Because he’s wonderful and sensitive and funny. Because we bring out the best in each other and are better people because of our love. Because when we’re together, I feel like I understand my place in the world.

“I don’t know exactly,” I said, trying to find a believable answer that she would want to hear. “Because I thought I was in love.”

“With one of them?” she asked. The tone in her voice when she said them made me want to slap her.

“He didn’t seem like one of them,” I said instead. “He seemed very kind and very charming. He was . . . is very good at compulsion. I don’t know if that’s part of what happened to me. Maybe I was just weak.”

“Don’t you feel ashamed?” she prodded. “Don’t you feel dirty and used up? Even if you graduate from here, do you think any of your own kind would ever want to touch you after letting yourself be used like that?”

That took me aback for a moment because it echoed so closely the fears Carly had once had when justifying why she couldn’t tell anyone about what Keith had done to her. I should’ve given some contrite response, but instead I answered Sheridan with a variation of what I’d told Carly. “I’d hope that whomever I’m with next will see me and value me for the person I am inside. None of the rest will matter.”

Sheridan’s expression turned to one of pity. “I don’t think you’ll ever find anyone like that.”

I already have, I thought. And he’s coming to get me out of here and away from you.

Aloud, I said simply, “I don’t know, ma’am.” Admitting your own ignorance was always a safe bet around here.

“Well,” she said, “let’s hope you’re less delusional about vampires than you are about how you’ve sullied yourself. How do you feel about him now?”

I knew better than to even breathe the truth on that. “He betrayed me,” I said simply. “He was supposed to meet me the night I was brought here, and he never showed. I was deceived.”

It was a lie none of them could disprove. In fact, no Alchemist really knew entirely what I’d been doing the night I was taken. Let them think they’d thwarted some reunion with Adrian and me, thus helping turn me against him.

“That’s what they do, Sydney,” Sheridan said, looking very pleased. “They deceive.”

When we disbanded, I noticed a few of my fellow detainees—some of whom I thought I’d made strides with—physically avoiding me as they had in the early days. “What’s that about?” I muttered to Emma, who was walking near me.

“Sheridan helped remind them of how tainted you are,” she explained.

My heart sank a little as I gazed after them. “Do they really believe that? I thought some of them . . .”

I couldn’t finish, but Emma knew my thoughts. “Were just playing along to survive here? Some are, but even if they haven’t been reprogrammed, they’ve learned enough to survive here. And part of survival is steering clear from people who’ll get you in trouble. You crossed a line—no, you trampled it, and even if they think what you did is okay, they know they can’t let Sheridan and the others think so.”

“What do you think?” I asked.

She gave me a tight smile. “I think you and your ink are a good precaution in case they ever try to mess with my mind. But I’m also going to keep my distance. See you later.”

She hurried off, and I spent the rest of the day formulating my plan, wishing it was more solid than it was. When I was in the bathroom that evening, I popped one of Addison’s gum sticks into my mouth, chewing until I hoped I’d mustered up a sticky enough result. I kept it in my hand as I left and then brushed my hand against the door as I entered my room, right over the place the bolt entered. I hoped the system was as touchy as Duncan had claimed and that the one piece had been enough. I’d nearly used both but thought a second might be useful in the future. I slipped it into my sock.

Later, when the lights went out, I heard a click at the door but didn’t know if it had been successful. I crept out of bed and tentatively approached the slit of light, waiting and listening to make sure no one was outside. They weren’t. Gingerly, I tried to slide the door open a crack . . . and succeeded. The bolt hadn’t worked! I exhaled a deep breath and braced myself for the next part of the task: getting out unseen.

I’d used invisibility spells in the past, once even to break into an Alchemist facility, which seemed ironic in my current situation. They weren’t easy, otherwise—as Ms. Terwilliger had noted—everyone would use them. The best coverage required a lot of spell components and ideally an amulet. Even then, the spell would often be unraveled if someone knew to look for you. I had nothing to aid me here, only the knowledge of a small spell and my own power to pull it off. It would last thirty minutes at most and be susceptible to anyone searching for me or who looked me directly in the eye. It would protect me from cameras, however, and my big gamble was that the halls would be deserted this time of night, when our masters thought we were all locked in and drugged.