Vampire Academy: The Complete Collection: 1/6 (46 page)

I wanted to tell her it wasn’t that. I wanted to tell her I wasn’t kicking her out for any personal reason. And I wanted to tell her that I wished she were the kind of loving, understanding mother you always hear about, one I could confide in. Maybe even a mother I could discuss my troubled love life with.

God. I wished I could tell
anyone
about that, actually. Especially right now.

But I was too caught up in my own personal drama to say a word. I felt like someone had ripped my heart out and tossed it across the other side of the room. There was a burning, agonizing pain in my chest, and I had no idea how it could ever be filled. It was one thing to accept that I couldn’t have Dimitri. It was something entirely different to realize someone else
could
.

I didn’t say anything else to her because my speech capabilities no longer existed. Fury glinted in her eyes, and her lips flattened out into that tight expression of displeasure she so often wore. Without another word, she turned around and left, slamming the door behind her. That door slam was something I would have done too, actually. I guess we really did share some genes.

But I forgot about her almost immediately. I just kept sitting there and thinking. Thinking and imagining.

I spent the rest of the day doing little more than that. I skipped dinner. I shed a few tears. But mostly, I just sat on my bed thinking and growing more and more depressed. I also discovered that the only thing worse than imagining Dimitri and Tasha together was remembering when he and
I
had been together. He would never touch me again like that, never kiss me again. . . .

This was the worst Christmas ever.

TEN

T
HE SKI TRIP COULDN’T HAVE come a moment too soon. It was impossible to get the Dimitri and Tasha thing out of my head, but at least packing and getting ready made sure I didn’t devote 100 percent of my brain power to him. More like 95 percent.

I had other things to distract me, too. The Academy might—rightfully—be overprotective when it came to us, but sometimes that translated into pretty cool stuff. Example: The Academy had access to a couple of private jets. This meant no Strigoi could attack us at an airport,
and
it also meant we got to travel in style. Each jet was smaller than a commercial plane, but the seats were cushy and had lots of leg room. They extended far enough back that you could practically lie down to sleep. On long flights, we had little consoles in the seats that gave us TV movie options. Sometimes they’d even break out fancy meals. I was betting this flight, however, would be too short for any movies or substantial food.

We left late on the twenty-sixth. When I boarded the jet, I looked around for Lissa, wanting to talk to her. We hadn’t really spoken after the Christmas brunch. I wasn’t surprised to see her sitting with Christian, and they didn’t look like they wanted to be interrupted. I couldn’t hear their conversation, but he’d put his arm around her and had that relaxed, flirty expression that only she could bring out. I remained fully convinced that he could never do as good a job as me of taking care of her, but he clearly made her happy. I put on a smile and nodded at them as I passed down the aisle toward where Mason was waving at me. As I did, I also walked by Dimitri and Tasha sitting together. I pointedly ignored them.

“Hey,” I said sliding into the seat beside Mason.

He smiled at me. “Hey. You ready for the ski challenge?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll go easy on you.”

I scoffed and leaned my head back against the seat. “You’re so delusional.”

“Sane guys are boring.”

To my surprise, he slid his hand over mine. His skin was warm, and I felt my own skin tingle where he touched me. It startled me. I’d convinced myself Dimitri was the only one I’d ever respond to again.

It’s time to move on
, I thought.
Dimitri obviously has. You should have done it a long time ago
.

I laced my fingers with Mason’s, catching him off guard. “I do. This is going to be fun.”

And it was.

I tried to keep reminding myself that we were here because of a tragedy, that there were Strigoi and humans out there who might strike again. No one else seemed to remember that, though, and I admit, I was having a difficult time myself.

The resort was gorgeous. It was built to sort of look like a log cabin, but no pioneer cabin could have held hundreds of people or had such luxury accommodations. Three stories of gleaming, golden-colored wood sat among lofty pine trees. The windows were tall and gracefully arched, tinted for Moroi convenience. Crystal lanterns—electric, but shaped to look like torches—hung around all the entrances, giving the entire building a glittering, almost bejeweled look.

Mountains—which my enhanced eyes could just barely make out in the night—surrounded us, and I bet the view would have been breathtaking when it was light out. One side of the grounds led off to the skiing area, complete with steep hills and moguls, as well as lifts and tow ropes. Another side of the lodge had an ice rink, which delighted me since I’d missed out that one day by the cabin. Near that, smooth hills were reserved for sledding.

And that was just the outside.

Inside, all sorts of arrangements had been made to cater to Moroi needs. Feeders stayed on hand, ready to serve twenty-four hours a day. The slopes ran on a nocturnal schedule. Wards and guardians circled the entire place. Everything a living vampire could want.

The main lobby had a cathedral ceiling and an enormous chandelier hanging over it. Its floor was intricately tiled marble, and the front desk stayed open around the clock, ready to indulge our every need. The rest of the lodge, hallways and lounges, had a red, black, and gold color scheme. The deep shade of red dominated over the other hues, and I wondered if its resemblance to blood was a coincidence. Mirrors and art adorned the walls, and little ornamental tables had been placed here and there. They held vases of pale green, purple-spotted orchids that filled the air with a spicy scent.

The room I shared with Lissa was bigger than our dorm rooms put together and had the same rich colors as the rest of the lodge. The carpet was so plush and deep that I immediately shed my shoes at the door and walked in barefoot, luxuriating in the way my feet sank into that softness. We had king-size beds, covered in feather duvets and set with so many pillows that I swore a person could get lost in them all and never be seen again. French doors opened on to a spacious balcony, which, considering we were on the top floor, would have been cool if not for the fact it was freezing outside. I suspected the two-person hot tub on the far end would go a long way to make up for the cold.

Drowning in so much luxury, I reached an overload point where the rest of the accommodations started swimming together. The jetted marble bathtub. The plasma-screen TV. The basket of chocolate and other snacks. When we finally decided to go skiing, I had to practically drag myself from the room. I could probably have spent the rest of my vacation lounging in there and been perfectly content.

But we finally ventured outside, and once I managed to push Dimitri and my mother out of my head, I started to enjoy myself. It helped that the lodge was so enormous; there was little chance of running into them.

For the first time in weeks, I was able to finally focus on Mason and realize just how much fun he was. I also got to hang out with Lissa more than I had in a while, which put me in an even better mood.

With Lissa, Christian, Mason, and me, we were able to get kind of a double-date thing going. The four of us spent almost all of the first day skiing, though the two Moroi had a bit of trouble keeping up. Considering what Mason and I went through in our classes, he and I weren’t afraid to try daring stunts. Our competitive natures made us eager to go out of our way to outdo each other.

“You guys are suicidal,” remarked Christian at one point. It was dark outside, and tall light posts illuminated his bemused face.

He and Lissa had been waiting at the bottom of the mogul hill, watching Mason and me come down. We’d been moving at insane speeds. The part of me that had been trying to learn control and wisdom from Dimitri knew it was dangerous, but the rest of me liked embracing that recklessness. That dark streak of rebelliousness still hadn’t let me go.

Mason grinned as we skidded to a halt, sending up a spray of snow. “Nah, this is just a warm-up. I mean, Rose has been able to keep up with me the whole time. Kid stuff.”

Lissa shook her head. “Aren’t you guys taking this too far?”

Mason and I looked at each other. “No.”

She shook her head. “Well, we’re going inside. Try not to kill yourselves.”

She and Christian left, arm and arm. I watched them go, then turned back to Mason. “I’m good for a while longer. You?”

“Absolutely.”

We took a lift back up to the top of the hill. When we were just about to head down, Mason pointed.

“Okay, how about this? Hit those moguls there, then jump over that ridge, swing back with a hairpin turn, dodge those trees, and land there.”

I followed his finger as he pointed out a jagged path down one of the biggest slopes. I frowned.

“That one really is insane, Mase.”

“Ah,” he said triumphantly. “She finally cracks.”

I glowered. “She does not.” After another survey of his crazy route, I conceded. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

He gestured. “You first.”

I took a deep breath and leapt off. My skis slid smoothly over the snow, and piercing wind blasted into my face. I made the first jump neatly and precisely, but as the next part of the course sped forward, I realized just how dangerous it really was. In that split second, I had a decision to make. If I didn’t do it, I’d never hear the end of it from Mason—and I
really
wanted to show him up. If I did manage it, I could feel pretty secure about my awesomeness. But if I tried and messed up . . . I could break my neck.

Somewhere in my head, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Dimitri’s started talking about wise choices and learning when to show restraint.

I decided to ignore that voice and went for it.

This course was as hard as I’d feared, but I pulled it off flawlessly, one insane move after another. Snow flew up around me as I made each sharp, dangerous turn. When I safely reached bottom, I looked up and saw Mason gesturing wildly. I couldn’t make out his expression or words, but I could imagine his cheers. I waved back and waited for him to follow suit.

But he didn’t. Because when Mason got halfway down, he wasn’t able to pull off one of the jumps. His skis caught, and his legs twisted. Down he went.

I reached him at about the same time some of the resort staff did. To everyone’s relief, Mason hadn’t broken his neck or anything else. His ankle did appear to have a nasty sprain, however, which was probably going to limit his skiing for the rest of the trip.

One of the instructors monitoring the slopes ran forward, fury all over her face.

“What were you kids thinking?” she exclaimed. She turned on me. “I couldn’t believe it when you did those stupid stunts!” Her glare fixed on Mason next. “And then
you
had to go ahead and copy her!”

I wanted to argue that it had all been his idea, but blame didn’t matter at this point. I was just glad he was all right. But as we all went inside, guilt began to gnaw at me. I
had
acted irresponsibly. What if he’d been seriously injured? Horrible visions danced through my mind. Mason with a broken leg . . . a broken neck . . .

What had I been thinking? No one had made me do that course. Mason had suggested it . . . but I hadn’t fought back. Goodness knew I probably could have. I might have had to endure some mockery, but Mason was crazy enough about me that feminine wiles probably would have stopped this madness. I’d gotten caught up in the excitement and the risk—much as I had in kissing Dimitri—not giving enough thought to the consequences because secretly, inside of me, that impulsive desire to be wild still lurked. Mason had it too, and his called to me.

That mental Dimitri voice chastised me once more.

After Mason was safely returned to the lodge and had ice on his ankle, I carried our equipment back outside toward the storage buildings. When I went back inside, I went through a different doorway than I normally used. This entrance was set behind a huge, open porch with an ornate wooden railing. The porch was built into the side of the mountain and had a breathtaking view of the other peaks and valleys around us— if you felt like standing around long enough in freezing temperatures to admire it. Which most people didn’t.

I walked up the steps to the porch, stomping snow off my boots as I did. A thick scent, both spicy and sweet, hung in the air. Something about it felt familiar, but before I could identify it, a voice suddenly spoke to me out of the shadows.

“Hey, little dhampir.”

Startled, I realized someone was indeed standing on the porch. A guy—a Moroi—leaned against the wall not far from the door. He brought a cigarette up to his mouth, took a long drag, and then dropped it to the floor. He stamped the butt out and crooked me a smile. That was the scent, I realized. Clove cigarettes.

Warily, I stopped and crossed my arms as I took him in. He was a little shorter than Dimitri but wasn’t as lanky as some Moroi guys ended up looking. A long, charcoal coat—probably made out of some insanely expensive cashmere-wool blend—fit his body exceptionally well, and the leather dress shoes he wore indicated more money still. He had brown hair that looked like it had been purposely styled to appear a little unkempt, and his eyes were either blue or green—I didn’t have quite enough light to know for sure. His face was cute, I supposed, and I pegged him to be a couple years older than me. He looked like he’d just come from a dinner party.