There’d been no dreams. Adrian hadn’t come.

CHAPTER 8

ADRIAN

I DIDN’T MEAN FOR THINGS to get so out of hand.

My intentions had been good when I came to Court, but after failing with Lissa and then learning about my parents, something snapped inside me. I threw myself back into my old life with a vengeance, losing all semblance of responsibility. I tried to tell myself that I was just having a little fun and finding a way to unwind while I was at Court. Sometimes I even told myself it was for Nina. Maybe that excuse would’ve worked in the first few days I was back, but after a week of almost nonstop revelry and parties, even she timidly offered a protest when I picked her up one night.

“Let’s stay in,” she said. “We’ll take it easy and watch a movie. Or play cards. Anything you want.”

Despite her words, she was still dressed to go out and live it up, looking very pretty in a periwinkle dress that made her gray eyes luminous. I gestured to it. “And waste this? Come on, I thought you wanted to meet new people.”

“I do,” she said. “I have. In fact, we’re starting to see the same ones over and over. They’ve all seen me in this dress already.”

“Is that the problem?” I asked. “I’ll lend you money for another one.”

She shook her head. “I can’t even pay you back for this one.”

After finding out about the lie my parents were living, I’d been tempted to make a statement and refuse the ample allowance my dad had regularly wired into my account. I didn’t have the same bills here that I had in Palm Springs, and I’d liked the idea of showing Nathan Ivashkov that he couldn’t buy off everyone in his family. But when Nina had casually remarked she felt underdressed at some of the royal parties we went to, I’d decided using my father’s money to fund a secretary’s wardrobe would be just as irritating. Admittedly, he didn’t know about it yet, but I took a lot of personal satisfaction from it. Nina had only agreed to the arrangement if it was treated as a loan, not a gift, but even she’d been taken aback when she saw the amounts I was throwing around. A small voice of reason warned me I was in danger of falling into some of the bad spending habits I’d had in my low moments in Palm Springs, but I shushed it. After all, I’d get more from my dad soon, and most everyone was pouring my drinks for free these days anyway.

“Well, it looks great,” I said. “It’d be a shame to hide such beauty away. Unless there’s some other problem?”

“No,” she said, flushing at my words. She looked me over, and I had the feeling she was reading my aura, which would have revealed—if other signs hadn’t already—that I’d done a little pre-party imbibing already. She sighed. “Let’s go.”

She can’t keep up with you, said Aunt Tatiana as we trekked across the Court’s grounds. Sunset was causing shadows to lengthen around us. But then, what girl can?

Sydney could keep up with me, I thought. Not in the partying sense. I mean . . . in life.

Her words brought that terrible ache that no amount of revelry could ever chase away. Sydney. Without her, I simply felt like I was going through the motions of life, creating a dreary existence made worse by my inability to find her. All I could do was my fruitless and increasingly sporadic dream searching. I hadn’t yet searched for her tonight and wondered if maybe I should heed Nina’s suggestion, if only to buy some brief sobriety.

It’s too early, warned Aunt Tatiana. Check later. No human would be asleep yet in the United States. Besides, do you want it to come back?

She had a point about the time. The thing was, I’d missed good times to check for Sydney all week, and it was starting to bother me. But she was also right about it coming back: that terrible, plunging darkness that threatened to consume my whole world. My depression had been bad in Palm Springs after Sydney’s disappearance and had only worsened here after my failure to get Lissa’s help. I knew my former psychiatrist and even Sydney would probably tell me that was a sign to go back on medication, but how could I, when I might be able to use spirit to help her? Admittedly, I wasn’t of much use right now, but I still refused to let the magic go. And so, an increase in the self-soothing wonders of alcohol helped mute some of it, as did relying on phantom Aunt Tatiana’s advice and presence—a presence that had become disconcertingly more frequent in the last week. I knew she wasn’t real and that my psychiatrist would’ve had plenty to say about her too, but her delusion seemed to be creating a wall between the worst of my depression and me. At least she got me out of bed each morning.

That night’s party was being hosted by a Conta guy I didn’t know very well, but he seemed pleased that we’d shown up and welcomed us with a friendly wave across the room. Nina had become my accepted shadow at these events, and a lot of people who wanted to get in good with me thought cozying up to her was the way to do it. I could tell it flustered her, but I rather enjoyed the show of royals who’d normally treat her like furniture in the palace offices now sucking up as they tried to get on her good side.

Almost every party this time of year was held outdoors, weather permitting. We were schooled from such an early age to stay inside and hide from Strigoi that if an outdoor opportunity presented itself in a safe location—like Court—we could hardly refuse the opportunity. Young Lord Conta had gone out of his way to make this party particularly memorable, with all sorts of novelties to amuse and entertain. One of my favorites was a giant fountain sitting on a table, shooting up champagne in high arcs. Within the depths of the glass base, an array of colored lights shone through the sparkling liquid.

I filled glasses for Nina and me, admiring the lights as they went through a turn of colors. “Adrian,” she said softly. “Look over there, on the other side of the pool.”

I followed her gaze and saw Wesley Drozdov sipping from a martini glass and glaring daggers at me. I was kind of surprised to see him. He’d made himself noticeably scarce since our last run-in, and I wondered if he’d shown up tonight thinking I wouldn’t be at a party where I didn’t know the host well. Trash, Aunt Tatiana murmured in my head. He doesn’t deserve a royal name.

“What an aura,” added Nina. “He hates you.”

I’d already accepted a shot from a passing server on our way in and wasn’t in the best position to read auras. I had no reason to doubt Nina and chuckled at the concern in her voice. “Don’t worry. He’s not going to start anything. See?”