He had a machine similar to Wolfe’s and loaded the ink into his needle. Neil sat down beside it, and Olive hovered near him. “Does it have to be the face?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. We just do that to identify ourselves.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Neil pulled off his T‑shirt, revealing a well‑muscled physique. He pointed to his upper left arm. “Here.”

Horace brought the needle down and then turned, puzzled. “What am I drawing?”

There were a few moments of comical silence. “Whatever’s fastest,” I said.

“I kind of wanted a cross,” said Neil wistfully. His stoic mask fell into place. “But do whatever you need to.”

“Do a cross with simple lines,” Adrian said unexpectedly. “I’ll design more art to go around it later, and you can just get regular ink to embellish it.”

Even I was surprised at the offer, considering how much Neil usually irritated Adrian. Horace was already at work. Even with a simple design, tattooing wasn’t something that could be done in a hurry. He was obviously moving as fast as he could, but I could tell by the spirit users’ strained faces that they were still losing ground. I grew so caught up in the drama that I actually forgot about Adrian. My world narrowed down to each drop of ink that went into Neil’s skin.

When Horace finished, everyone looked ready to faint from the exhaustion of stress. Lissa rested her head on Christian’s shoulder, and a paler‑than‑usual Sonya sank into a chair. “There was still magic in the ink when you finished,” she said. “But I don’t sense it anymore. I have no way of knowing if it worked–aside from the obvious.”

I was struck by the parallels between Neil and Trey. Both were now marked with experimental ink to protect them from insidious powers . . . but nobody truly knew if the procedures had been effective. The potential to solve Trey’s mystery was in a crate back in my room. The answer to Neil’s, unfortunately, was in the teeth of a Strigoi.

Sonya closed her eyes and rested her hand on her forehead. I could only imagine what she was feeling. Protecting Moroi from Strigoi had become an obsession for her, a project with very personal implications. This had to be monumental for her, the potential conclusion to her work. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and fixed them on Adrian as a revelation seemed to hit her.

“Why didn’t you help us? We might have saved more magic. You did nothing.”

“She’s right,” Lissa said, clearly surprised. “I didn’t realize it until now. It was just the three of us.”

We all looked at Adrian, and even I was astonished. This had become a personal mission for him too, especially considering his monumental role in saving Olive’s blood. Why would he shirk helping now? Indecision warred on his face. At last, he sighed with resignation.

“I didn’t help . . . because I can’t.”

Lissa straightened up from where she was resting against Christian. “What does that mean exactly?”

He gave her a rueful smile. “It means, cousin, that I’m going on my third week of mood stabilizers and no longer have access to spirit.”

My heart stopped.

“Why . . . why would you do that?” Lissa asked.

“You tell me,” he replied. “You did it once. Or something like it. I wanted my life back. I didn’t want spirit to control me anymore. You know what it can do.” He looked at Lissa, Sonya, and Nina in turn. “You all know.”

From their chagrined expressions, they did know. But it was clear they were also confused.

“Why would you do it now of all times?” exclaimed Sonya. “When you knew we still needed you?”

He focused back on her, holding his ground. “Did I know that? I did my part–a big part. I had no idea it’d come to this. Besides, what time should I have waited for? When I was about to jump off a bridge?”

The words hit Sonya like a slap in the face. “Of course not. But . . . there are other ways to cope . . .”

Adrian laughed. “Yeah? Alcohol poisoning? Cutting? Turn‑ing Strigoi?”

It was a cruel thing to say to Lissa and Sonya, but neither of them could muster an argument. Nina was the one who spoke up, confusion in her gray eyes. “But how can you stand to be away from the magic? The rush? Don’t you miss it?”

“Yes,” he said bluntly. “But other things in my life are more important.”

My legs grew weak, and I backed up, settling down into a plush armchair. I clasped my hands together to stop them from shaking.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help this time, but none of you have the right to judge me,” Adrian added. There was a strength and conviction in his voice that I doubt any of them had seen before. “This is my life, and there’s nothing you can say to change my mind–unless Her Majesty wants to give a royal command for me to stop.”

Lissa blanched. “Of course not.”

Everything was kind of weird after that.

I kept my distance from the others, and this time, no one seemed to notice or care. Adrian became the new attraction. Sonya and Lissa apologized, and Nina tried to engage him about what it was like. He shot me another pained look from across the room, and I had to glance away because my confusion was too great.

And as the night progressed, it became clear to me they weren’t going to give him up anytime soon. The spirit users wanted to know more about Adrian and the pills. Everyone else wanted to know what the next step with Neil was. My role was done, and when exhaustion began weighing me down, I quietly slipped out of the room to go get some sleep. I knew travel arrangements were being made for later tomorrow, so no one would need me right away. The nice thing about being forced onto this schedule was that I was so legitimately tired that my body wasn’t going to let my mind keep me awake with questions. And believe me, I had plenty. I needed to understand the Adrian of long ago. I needed to understand the Adrian I loved. And I needed to understand why he hadn’t told me he was facing one of his greatest fears by taking a prescription.

Tears sprang to the corner of my eyes and then began to freeze. I stopped in the middle of a walkway leading through some ornamental trees and tried to wipe my face as best as I could.

“Hey, are you okay?”

I jerked my head up at the unfamiliar voice. Well, not entirely unfamiliar. A young man materialized from the trees, and a moment later, a second joined him. Tired and emotionally frayed, I didn’t recognize them at first. Then, I realized they were Adrian’s friends–or, well, ex‑friends–from the café. I stiffened, suddenly wide awake and alert.

And terrified.

“Sydney, right?” It was the guy who’d first spoken. “I’m–”

“Wesley,” I said. “I remember.”

“You do? That’s great. Then you must remember Lars too.”

The faint light of a lamppost a little ways away filtered through the branches of a tree above us, lighting up his face as he grinned in what he probably thought was a friendly manner. I didn’t need him to get any closer to know he was drunk–just like he had been yesterday. Was that what Adrian used to be like? Waking up and going from one state of intoxication to another? It was a pathetic, dismal life.

“Where are you headed?” asked Lars. “You need directions?”

“I’m just going back to my room to get some sleep.” I pointed at the building, which suddenly seemed very far away. “Right over there.”

“Sleep?” Lars laughed. “That’s right. You’re on a flipped schedule. Look, why don’t you come out with us? Live it up while you’re here. We’ll get you some caffeine and hit some parties.”

“Or if you want something quieter, we could just go back to my place and talk.” That was Wesley, and he seemed to be having a difficult time sounding serious and responsible.

“No, thank you,” I said, shifting a little. It put me two steps closer to my building. Unfortunately, I probably had about two hundred more to go. “I’m really tired.”

Lars nudged Wesley. “See, this is what happens when you get stuck with Adrian as a tour guide. It makes you feel satisfied with boredom.”