"Stop it!" he yelled, gripping my arms. "Don't you get it? You can't win!"
"Then kill me!" I wriggled, but his hold on my upper arms was too strong, and even holding the stake, I couldn't do anything with it. "You said you would if I didn't surrender myself. Well, guess what? I didn't. I won't. So just get it over with."
That phantom moonlight lit up his face, eradicating the normal shadows and making his skin stark white against the night's backdrop. It was like all the colors in the world had been blanked out. His eyes merely looked dark, but in my mind's eye, they glowed like fire. His expression was cold and calculating.
Not my Dimitri.
"It'd take a lot for me to kill you, Rose," he said. "This isn't enough."
I wasn't convinced. Still holding onto me with that unbreakable grip, he leaned toward me. He was going to bite me. Those teeth would pierce my skin, and he'd turn me into a monster like him or drink until I was dead. Either way, I'd be too drugged and too stupid to know it. The person who was Rose Hathaway would leave this world without even realizing it.
Pure panic shot through me-even as that part of me that was still in withdrawal cried out for more of those glorious endorphins. No, no. I couldn't allow that. Every nerve I had was set on fire, ramping up for defense, attack, anything... anything to stop this. I would not be turned. I could not be turned. I wanted so badly to do something to save myself. My whole being was consumed with that urge. I could feel it ready to burst out, ready to. My hands could touch each other but not Dimitri. With a bit of maneuvering, I used the fingers of my left hand to pry off Oksana's ring. It slipped off and into the mud, just as Dimitri's fangs touched my skin.
It was like a nuclear explosion going off. The ghosts and spirits I'd summoned on the road to Baia burst between us. They were all around, translucent and luminescent in shades of pale green, blue, yellow, and silver. I'd let loose all of my defenses, let myself succumb to my emotions in a way I hadn't been able to when Dimitri first caught me. The ring's healing power had barely kept me in check just now, but it was gone. I had no barriers on my power.
Dimitri sprang back, wide-eyed. Like the Strigoi on the road, he waved his hands around, swatting the spirits as one would mosquitoes. His hands passed right through them, ineffectual. Their attack was more or less ineffectual too. They couldn't physically hurt him, but they could affect the mind, and they were damned distracting. What had Mark said? The dead hate the undead. And from the way these ghosts swarmed Dimitri, it was clear that they did.
I stepped back, scanning the ground below me. There. The ring's silver gleamed up at me from a puddle. I reached down and grabbed it, then ran off and left Dimitri to his fate. He wasn't exactly screaming, but he was making some horrible noises. That tore at me, but I kept going, running toward the bridge. I reached it a minute or so later. It was as high as I'd feared, but it was sturdy and well built, if narrow. It was the kind of country bridge that only one car at a time could cross.
"I've come this far," I muttered, staring up at the bank. It was not only higher than the one I'd fallen down, it was also steeper. I pocketed the ring and stake and then reached out, digging my hands into the ground. I was going to have to half-crawl, half-climb this one. My ankle got a slight reprieve; this was all upper-body strength now. As I climbed, however, I began to notice something. Faint flashes in my periphery. An impression of faces and skulls. And a throbbing pain in the back of my head.
Oh no. This had happened before too. In this panicked state, I couldn't maintain the defenses I usually did to keep the dead away from myself.
They were now approaching me, more curious than belligerent. But as their numbers grew, it all became as disorienting as what Dimitri was now experiencing.
They couldn't hurt me, but they were freaking me out, and the telltale headache that came with them was starting to make me dizzy. Glancing back toward him, I saw something amazing. Dimitri was still coming. He really was a god, a god who brought death closer with each footstep. The ghosts still swarmed him like a cloud, yet he was managing progress, one agonizing step at a time. Turning back, I continued my climb, ignoring my own glowing companions as best I could.
At long last, I reached the top of the bank and stumbled onto the bridge. I could barely stand, my muscles were so weak. I made it a few more steps and then collapsed to my hands and knees. More and more spirits were spinning around, and my head was on the verge of exploding. Dimitri still made his slow progress but was a ways from the bank yet. I tried to stand again, using the bridge's rails for support, and failed. The rough grating on the bridge scraped my bare legs.
"Damn."
I knew what I had to do to save myself, though it could very well end up killing me, too. With trembling hands, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the ring. I shook so badly that I felt certain I'd drop it. Somehow, I held on and managed to slide it onto my finger. A small surge of warmth radiated from it into me, and I felt a tiny bit of control settle into my body. Unfortunately, the ghosts were still there.
The traces of that fear, of dying or turning Strigoi, were still in me, but it had lessened now that I was out of immediate danger. Feeling less unstable, I sought for the barriers and control I usually kept up, desperate to slam them into place and drive my visitors away.
"Go, go, go," I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. The effort was like pushing on a mountain, an impossible obstacle that no one could have the strength for. This was what Mark had warned about, why I shouldn't do this. The dead were a powerful asset, but once called, they were difficult to get rid of. What had he said? Those who danced on the edge of darkness and insanity shouldn't risk this.
"Go!" I shouted, throwing my last bit of strength into the effort.
One by one, the phantoms around me vanished. I felt my world settle back into its rightful order. Only, when I looked down, I saw that the ghosts had left Dimitri too-as I'd suspected. And just like that, he was on the move again.
"Damn." My word of the night.
I managed to get on my feet this time as he sprinted up the slope. Again, he was slower than usual-but still more than fast enough. I began backing up, never taking my eyes off of him. Getting rid of the ghosts had given me more strength, but not what I needed to get away. Dimitri had won.
"Another shadow-kissed effect?" he asked, stepping onto the bridge.
"Yeah." I swallowed. "Turns out ghosts don't much like Strigoi."
"You didn't seem to like them much either."
I took another slow step backward. Where could I go? As soon as I turned around to run, he'd be on me.
"So, did I go far enough for you to not want to turn me?" I asked as cheerfully as I could manage.
He gave me a wry, twisted smile. "No. Your shadow-kissed abilities have their uses... Too bad they'll go away when you're awakened." So. That was still his plan. In spite of how much I'd infuriated him, he still wanted to keep me around for eternity.
"You're not going to awaken me," I said.
"Rose, there's no way you can-"
"No."
I climbed up onto the railing of the bridge, swinging one leg over. I knew what had to happen now. He froze.
"What are you doing?"
"I told you. I'll die before I become Strigoi. I won't be like you or the others. I don't want that. You didn't want that, once upon a time." My face felt cold as a night breeze blew over it, the result of stealthy tears on my cheeks.
I swung my other leg over and peered down at the swiftly moving water. We were a lot more than two stories up. I'd hit the water hard, and even if I survived that fall, I didn't have the strength to out swim the current and get to shore. As I stared down, contemplating my death, I thought back to when Dimitri and I sat in the backseat of an SUV once, discussing this very topic.
It was the first time we'd sat near each other, and every place our bodies touched had been warm and wonderful. He'd smelled good-that scent, that scent of being alive was gone now, I realized-and he'd been more relaxed than usual, ready to smile. We'd talked about what it meant to be alive and in full control of your soul-and what it meant to become one of the undead, to lose the love and light of life and all those you'd known.
We'd looked at each other and agreed death was better than that fate.
Looking at Dimitri now, I had to agree.
"Rose, don't." I heard true panic in his voice. If he lost me over the edge, I was gone. No Strigoi. No awakening. For me to be turned, he needed to kill me by drinking my blood and then feed blood back to me. If I jumped, the water would kill me, not bloodletting. I would be long dead before he found me in the river.