Suddenly, everyone started talking at once, excited about the idea. They drew Lissa in, and soon there was a passionate conversation going on about her plan. I got shuffled to the edges and decided that was just fine. Then I retreated altogether and sought out a corner near a door.

Along the way, I passed a server with a tray of hors d'oeuvres. Still hungry, I eyed them suspiciously but saw nothing that looked like the foie gras from the other day. I gestured to one that looked like some sort of braised, rare meat.

"Is that goose liver?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Sweetbread."

That didn't sound bad. I reached for it.

"It's pancreas," said a voice behind me. I jerked back.

"What?" I squeaked. The waitress took my shock for rejection and moved on.

Adrian Ivashkov moved into my line of sight, looking immensely pleased with himself.

"Are you messing with me?" I asked. "'Sweetbread' is pancreas?" I don't know why that shocked me so much. Moroi consumed blood. Why not internal organs? Still, I repressed a shudder.

Adrian shrugged. "It's really good."

I shook my head in disgust. "Oh, man. Rich people suck."

His amusement continued. "What are you doing here, little dhampir? Are you following me around?"

"Of course not," I scoffed. He was dressed to perfection, as always. "Especially not after all the trouble you've gotten us into."

He flashed one of his tantalizing smiles, and despite how much he annoyed me, I again felt that overwhelming urge to be near him. What was up with that?

"I don't know," he teased. He looked perfectly sane now, exhibiting no trace of the weird behavior I'd witnessed in his room. And yeah, he looked a lot better in a tuxedo than any guy I'd seen in there so far. "As many times as we keep seeing each other? This is, what, the fifth time? It's starting to look suspicious. Don't worry, though. I won't tell your boyfriend. Either of them."

I opened my mouth to protest, then remembered he'd seen me with Dimitri earlier. I refused to blush. "I only have one boyfriend. Sort of. Maybe not anymore. And anyway, there's nothing to tell. I don't even like you."

"No?" asked Adrian, still smiling. He leaned toward me, like he had a secret to share. "Then why are you wearing my perfume?"

This time, I did blush. I took a step back. "I'm not."

He laughed. "Of course you are. I counted the boxes after you left. Besides, I can smell it on you. It's nice. Sharp…but still sweet-just like I'm sure you are deep down inside. And you got it right, you know. Just enough to add an edge…but not enough to drown your own scent." The way he said «scent» made it sound like a dirty word.

Royal Moroi might make me uncomfortable, but smartass guys hitting on me didn't. I dealt with them on a regular basis. I shook off my shyness and remembered who I was.

"Hey," I said, tossing my hair back. "I had every right to take one. You offered them. Your mistake is in assuming me taking one means anything. It doesn't. Except that maybe you should be more careful with where you dump all that money of yours."

"Ooh, Rose Hathaway is here to play, folks." He paused and took a glass of what looked like champagne from a passing waiter. "You want one?"

"I don't drink."

"Right." Adrian handed me a glass anyway, then shooed the waiter away and took a drink of the champagne. I had a feeling it wasn't his first of the night. "So. Sounds like our Vasilisa put my dad in his place."

"Your …" I glanced back at the group I'd just left. Silver Hair still stood there, gesticulating wildly. "That guy's your dad?"

"That's what my mom says."

"You agree with him? About how Moroi fighting would be suicide?"

Adrian shrugged and took another sip. "I don't really have an opinion on that."

"That's not possible. How can you not feel one way or another?"

"Dunno. Just not something I think about. I've got better things to do."

"Like stalk me," I suggested. "And Lissa." I still wanted to know why she'd been in his room.

He smiled again. "I told you, you're the one following me."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Five times-" I stopped. "Five times?"

He nodded.

"No, it's only been four." With my free hand, I ticked them off. "There was that first night, the night at the spa, then when I came to your room, and now tonight."

The smile turned secretive. "If you say so."

"I do say so…" Again, my words trailed off. I had talked to Adrian one other time. Sort of. "You can't mean …"

"Mean what?" A curious, eager expression lit his eyes. It was more hopeful than presumptuous.

I swallowed, recalling the dream. "Nothing." Without thinking about it, I took a drink of champagne. Across the room, Lissa's feelings burned back to me, calm and content. Good.

"Why are you smiling?" Adrian asked.

"Because Lissa's still over there, working that crowd."

"No surprise there. She's one of those people who can charm anyone she wants if she tries hard enough. Even people who hate her."

I gave him a wry look. "I feel that way when I talk to you."

"But you don't hate me," he said, finishing the last of his champagne. "Not really."

"I don't like you either."

"So you keep saying." He took a step toward me, not threatening, just making the space between us more intimate. "But I can live with that."

"Rose!"

The sharpness of my mother's voice cut through the air. A few people within earshot glanced over at us. My mother-all five angry feet of her-stormed up to us.

CHAPTER 17

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded. Her voice was still too loud as far as I was concerned.

"Nothing, I-"

"Excuse us, Lord Ivashkov," she growled. Then, like I was five years old, she grabbed me by my arm and jerked me out of the room. Champagne sloshed out of my glass and splashed onto the skirt of my dress.

"What do you think you're doing?" I exclaimed, once we were out in the hall. Mournfully, I looked down at my dress. "This is silk. You could have ruined it."

She grabbed the champagne flute and set it down on a nearby table. "Good. Maybe it'll stop you from dressing up like a cheap whore."

"Whoa," I said, shocked. "That's kind of harsh. And where do you get off turning motherly all of a sudden?" I gestured to the dress. "This isn't exactly cheap. You thought it was nice of Tasha to give it to me."

"That's because I didn't expect you to wear it out with Moroi and make a spectacle of yourself."

"I'm not making a spectacle of myself. And anyway, it covers everything up."

"A dress that tight might as well be showing everything," she retorted. She, of course, was dressed in guardian black: tailored black linen pants and a matching blazer. She had a few curves of her own, but the clothing hid them.

"Especially when you're with a group like that. Your body's…conspicuous. And flirting with Moroi doesn't really help."

"I wasn't flirting with him."

The accusation made me angry because I felt I'd been on really good behavior lately. I used to flirt all the time- and do other things-with Moroi guys, but after a few talks and one embarrassing incident with Dimitri, I'd realized how stupid that was. Dhampir girls did have to be careful with Moroi guys, and I kept that in mind all the time now.

Something petty occurred to me. "Besides," I said mockingly, "isn't that what I'm supposed to do? Hook up with a Moroi and further my race? It's what you did."

She glowered. "Not when I was your age."

"You were only a few years older than me."

"Don't do anything stupid, Rose," she said. "You're too young for a baby. You don't have the life experience for it- you haven't even lived your own life yet. You won't be able to do the kind of job you wish you could."