Sydney napped throughout the day, and I began to think she was just an insomniac with bizarre sleep patterns. She also continued her equally odd treatment of food, hardly touching her meals. She always let me have the leftovers and was a bit more adventurous with Russian cuisine. I'd had to experiment when I first arrived, and it was nice to have the guidance of someone who, though not a local, knew a lot more about this country than me.
On the third day of our trip, we arrived in Omsk. Omsk was a larger and prettier city than I'd expected of Siberia. Dimitri had always teased me that my images of Siberia looking like Antarctica were wrong, and I could tell that he was right-at least as far as the southern part of the region was concerned. The weather wasn't much different from what I'd have found in Montana this time of year, cool spring air occasionally warmed by sunshine.
Sydney had told me when we got there, she'd get us a ride from some Moroi she knew. Several lived in the city, blending in with the large population. Yet as the day went on, we discovered a problem. No Moroi would take us to the village. Apparently, the road was dangerous. Strigoi often hung out near it at night, hoping to catch traveling Moroi or dhampirs. The more Sydney explained it, the more worried I became about my plan. Apparently, there weren't many Strigoi in Dimitri's town itself. According to her, they lurked on the town's periphery, but few lived out there permanently. If that was the case, my odds of finding Dimitri had dropped. Things got even worse as Sydney continued describing the situation.
"A lot of Strigoi travel the country looking for victims, and the village is just an area they pass through," she explained. "The road is kind of remote, so some Strigoi will stay for a while and try to get easy prey. Then they move on."
"In the U.S., Strigoi often hide in large cities," I said uneasily.
"They do that here too. It's easier for them to take victims without being noticed."
Yes, this definitely threw a wrench into my plans. If Dimitri wasn't residing in this town, I was going to have some serious problems. I'd known Strigoi liked big cities, but somehow, I'd convinced myself Dimitri would return to the place where he grew up.
But if Dimitri wasn't there... well, suddenly, the enormity of Siberia hit me. I'd learned Omsk wasn't even the biggest city in the region, and finding even one Strigoi here could be hard. Looking for him in any number of cities that might be larger? Things could get very, very ugly if my hunch proved wrong.
Since setting out to find Dimitri, I'd occasionally had weak moments in which I half-hoped I'd never find him. The idea of him as a Strigoi still tormented me. I was also visited by other images... images of the way he'd been and memories of the time we'd spent together.
I think my most precious memory was of just before he was turned. It was one of those times when I'd sucked up a lot of the spirit-induced darkness from Lissa. I'd been out of control, unable to get a grip. I was afraid of becoming a monster, afraid of killing myself like another shadow kissed guardian had.
Dimitri had brought me back to myself, lending me his strength. I'd realized then just how strong our connection was, how perfectly we understood each other. I'd been skeptical about people being soul mates in the past, but at that moment, I knew it was true. And with that emotional connection had come a physical one. Dimitri and I had finally given in to the attraction. We'd sworn we never would, but... well, our feelings were just too strong. Staying away from each other had turned out to be impossible. We'd had sex, and it had been my first time ever. Sometimes I felt certain it would be my only time.
The act itself had been amazing, and I'd been unable to separate the physical joy from the emotional. Afterward, we'd lain together in that small cabin for as long as we dared, and that had been amazing too. It had been one of the few moments where I'd felt he was truly mine.
"Do you remember Victor's lust charm?" I had asked, snuggling closer against him.
Dimitri looked at me like I was crazy. "Of course."
Victor Dashkov was a royal Moroi, one who had been friends with Lissa and her family. Little did we know that he'd secretly studied spirit for years and had identified Lissa as a spirit user before she even knew. He'd tortured her with all sorts of mind games that truly made her think she was going crazy. His schemes had fully culminated in his kidnapping and torturing her until she healed the disease that was killing him.
Victor was now in prison for life, both for what he'd done to Lissa and because of his treasonous plans for rebellion against the Moroi government.
He had been one of the few to know about my relationship with Dimitri, something that had worried me to no end. He'd even furthered our relationship by creating a lust charm-a necklace infused with earth and compulsion. The charm was full of dangerous magic that had made Dimitri and me give into our most basic instincts. We had pulled back at the last moment, and until our night in the cabin, I had believed our charm induced encounter to be the ultimate physical high.
"I didn't realize it could get better," I had told Dimitri after we'd actually slept together. I felt a little shy talking about it. "I thought about it all the time... what happened between us."
He turned to me, tugging the covers up. The cabin was cold, but its bed had warm blankets. I suppose we could have put clothes on, but that was the last thing I wanted to do. Being pressed skin-to-skin felt too good.
"I did too."
"You did?" I asked, surprised. "I thought... I don't know. I thought you were too disciplined for that. I thought you'd try to forget it."
Dimitri laughed and kissed my neck. "Rose, how could I forget being na**d with someone as beautiful as you? I stayed awake so many nights, replaying every detail. I told myself over and over that it was wrong, but you're impossible to forget." His lips moved to my collarbone, and his hand stroked my hip. "You're burned into my mind forever. There is nothing, nothing in this world that will ever change that."
And it was memories like that that made it so hard to comprehend this quest to kill him, even if he was a Strigoi. Yet... at the same time, it was exactly because of memories like that that I had to destroy him. I needed to remember him as the man who'd loved me and held me in bed. I needed to remember that that man would not want to stay a monster.
I wasn't very excited when Sydney showed me the car she'd bought, particularly since I'd given her the money for it.
"We're going in that?" I exclaimed. "Can it even make it that far?" The trip was apparently seven hours.
She gave me a shocked look. "Are you serious? Do you know what this is? It's a 1972 Citroen. These things are amazing. Do you have any idea how hard it would have been to get this into the country back in the Soviet days? I can't believe that guy actually sold it. He's clueless."
I knew little about the Soviet era and even less about classic cars, but Sydney stroked the shiny red hood like she was in love. Who would have guessed? She was a car geek. Maybe it was valuable, and I just couldn't appreciate it. I was more into sleek, brand-new sports cars. To be fair, this car didn't have any dents or rust, and aside from an outdated look, it appeared clean and well cared for.
"Will it run?" I asked.
If possible, her expression grew even more incredulous. "Of course!"
And it did. The engine sprang to life with a steady hum, and with the way it accelerated, I started to understand her fascination. She wanted to drive, and I was about to argue that it had been my money that bought it. Seeing the adoring look on her face, though, I finally decided not to come between her and the car.
I was just glad we were leaving right away. It was already late afternoon. If the road was as dangerous as everyone claimed, we wouldn't want to be out there while it was dark. Sydney agreed but said we could get most of the trip in before sundown and then stay overnight at a place she knew. We'd arrive at our destination in the morning.
The farther we drove from Omsk, the more remote the terrain became. As I studied it, I began to understand Dimitri's love of this land. It had a scrubby, barren look, true, but spring was turning the plains green, and there was something hauntingly beautiful about seeing all this untouched wilderness. It reminded me of Montana in some ways yet had a certain quality that was all its own.
I couldn't help but use Sydney's crush on the car as a means of conversation. "Do you know a lot about cars?" I asked.
"Some," she said. "My dad's the Alchemist in our family, but my mom's a mechanic."