Vampire Academy 2 - Frostbite by Mead Richelle

Author:Mead, Richelle
Language: eng
Format: epub

Vampire Academy 2 - Frostbite

Thirteen

PEO­PLE STOOD UP AND SHOUT­ED, ev­ery­one want­ing their opin­ion to be heard. As it was, most of them held the same view: Tasha was wrong. They told her she was crazy. They told her that in send­ing out Mo­roi and dham­pirs to fight the Strigoi, she'd be ex­pe­dit­ing the ex­tinc­tion of both races. They even had the nerve to sug­gest that that was Tasha's plan all along—that she was some­how col­lab­orat­ing with the Strigoi in all of this.

Dim­itri stood up, dis­gust all over his fea­tures as he sur­veyed the chaos. “You might as well leave. Noth­ing use­ful's go­ing to hap­pen now.”

Ma­son and I rose, but he shook his head when I start­ed to fol­low Dim­itri out.

“You go on,” said Ma­son. “I want to check some­thing out.”

I glanced at the stand­ing, ar­gu­ing peo­ple. I shrugged. “Good luck.”

I couldn't be­lieve it had on­ly been a few days since I'd spo­ken to Dim­itri. Step­ping out in­to the hall with him, I felt like it'd been years. Be­ing with Ma­son these last cou­ple of days had been fan­tas­tic, but see­ing Dim­itri again, all of my old feel­ings for him came rush­ing back. Sud­den­ly, Ma­son seemed like a child. My dis­tress over the Tasha sit­ua­tion al­so came back, and stupid words fell out of my mouth be­fore I could stop them.

“Shouldn't you be in there pro­tect­ing Tasha?” I asked. “Be­fore the mob gets her? She's go­ing to get in big trou­ble for us­ing mag­ic like that.”

He raised an eye­brow. “She can take care of her­self.”

“Yeah, yeah, be­cause she's a badass karate mag­ic us­er. I get all that. I just fig­ured since you're go­ing to be her guardian and all…”

“Where did you hear that?”

“I have my sources.” Some­how, say­ing I'd heard it from my mom sound­ed less cool. “You've de­cid­ed to, right? I mean, it sounds like a good deal, see­ing as she's go­ing to give you fringe ben­efits….”

He gave me a lev­el look. “What hap­pens be­tween her and me is none of your busi­ness,” he replied crisply.

The words be­tween her and me stung. It sound­ed like he and Tasha were a done deal. And, as of­ten hap­pened when I was hurt, my tem­per and at­ti­tude took over.

“Well, I'm sure you guys'll be hap­py to­geth­er. She's just your type, too—I know how much you like wom­en who aren't your own age. I mean, she's what, six years old­er than you? Sev­en? And I'm sev­en years younger than you.”

“Yes,” he said af­ter sev­er­al mo­ments of si­lence. “You are. And ev­ery sec­ond this con­ver­sa­tion goes on, you on­ly prove how young you re­al­ly are.”

Whoa. My jaw al­most hit the floor. Not even my moth­er punch­ing me had hurt as bad­ly as that. For a heart­beat, I thought I saw re­gret in his eyes, like he too re­al­ized just how harsh his words had been. But the mo­ment passed, and his ex­pres­sion was hard once more.

“Lit­tle dham­pir,” a voice sud­den­ly said near­by.

Slow­ly, still stunned, I turned to­ward Adri­an Ivashkov. He grinned at me and gave a brief nod of ac­knowl­edg­ment to Dim­itri.

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