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Not the answer he'd wanted. He shifted his hold. "There are other ways to help her than whatever insanity you're thinking of."

I suddenly went limp. Dimitri stumbled, caught by surprise at my sudden lack of resistance. "What's wrong?" he asked, both puzzled

and suspicious.

I stared off into the night, my eyes not really focused on anything. Instead, I was seeing Lissa and Abe back at Court, remembering

Lissa's feeling of powerlessness and longing for her vote. Tatiana's note came back to me, and for a moment, I could hear her voice in

my head. She is not the last Dragomir. Another lives.

"You′re right," I said at last.

"Right about . . . ?" Dimitri was at a total loss. It was a common reaction for people when I agreed to something reasonable.

"Rushing back to Court won't help Lissa."

Silence. I couldn't fully make out his expression, but it was probably filled with shock.

"I'll go back to the motel with you, and I won't go running off to Court." Another Dragomir. Another Dragomir needing to be found. I

took a deep breath. "But I'm not going to sit around and do nothing. I am going to do something for Lissa—and you and Sydney are

going to help me."

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EIGHT EIGHT

EIGHTEIGHT

IT TURNED OUT I WAS wrong about the local police department comprising of one guy and a dog. When Dimitri and I walked back to

the motel, we saw flashing red and blue lights in the parking lot and a few bystanders trying to see what was happening.

"The whole town turned out," I said.

Dimitri sighed. "You just had to say something to the desk clerk, didn't you?"

We'd stopped some distance away, hidden in the shadow of a run-down building. "I thought it would slow you down."

"It's going to slow us down now." His eyes did a sweep of the scene, taking in all the details in the flickering light. "Sydney's car is

gone. That's something, at least."

My earlier cockiness faded. "Is it? We just lost our ride!"

"She wouldn't leave us, but she was smart enough to get out before the police came knocking on her door." He turned and surveyed

the town's one main road. "Come on. She has to be close, and there's a good chance the police might actually start searching around

if they thought some defenseless girl was being chased down." The tone he used for "defenseless" spoke legions.

Dimitri made an executive decision to walk back toward the road that had led us into town, assuming Sydney would want to get out

of there now that I'd blown our cover. Getting the police involved had created complications, but I felt little regret over what I'd done. I

was excited about the plan that had occurred to me in the woods and wanted, as usual, to get moving on it right away. If I'd helped get

us out of this hole of a town, so much the better.

Dimitri's instincts about Sydney were right. About a half-mile outside of town, we spotted a CR-V pulled off on the road's shoulder.

The engine was off, the lights dark, but I could see well enough to identify the Louisiana plates. I walked over to the driver side window

and knocked on the glass. Inside, Sydney flinched. She rolled down the window, face incredulous.

"What did you do? Never mind. Don't bother. Just get in."

Dimitri and I complied. I felt like a naughty child under her disapproving glare. She started the car without a word and began driving

in the direction we'd originally come from, eventually merging with the small state highway that led back to the interstate. That was

promising. Only, once we'd driven a few miles, she pulled off again, this time at a dark exit that didn't seem to have anything at it.

She turned off the car and turned to peer at me in the backseat. "You ran, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but I got this—"

Sydney held up a hand to silence me. "No, don't. Not yet. I wish you could have pulled off your daring escape without attracting the

authorities."

"Me too," said Dimitri.

I scowled at them both. "Hey, I came back, didn't I?" Dimitri arched an eyebrow at that, apparently questioning just how voluntary that

had been. "And now I know what we have to do to help Lissa."

"What we have to do," said Sydney, "is find a safe place to stay."

"Just go back to civilization and pick a hotel. One with room service. We can make that our base of operation while we work on the

next plan."

"We researched that town specifically!" she said. "We can't go to some random place—at least not nearby. I doubt they took down

my plates, but they could put out a call to look for this kind of car. If they've got that and our descriptions, and it gets to the state police,

it'll get to the Alchemists and then it'll—"

"Calm down," said Dimitri, touching her arm. There was nothing intimate about that, but I still felt a spark of envy, particularly after the

tough love I'd just had being nearly dragged through the woods. "We don't know that any of that's going to happen. Why don't you just

call Abe?"

"Yeah," she said glumly. "That's exactly what I want. To tell him I messed up the plan in less than twenty-four hours."

"Well," I said, "if it makes you feel better, the plan's about to change anyway—"

"Be quiet," she snapped. "Both of you. I need to think."

Dimitri and I exchanged glances, but stayed silent. When I'd told him I knew a way to seriously help Lissa, he'd been intrigued. I

knew he wanted details now, but we both had to wait for Sydney.

She flipped on the dome light and produced a paper map of the state. After studying it for a minute, she folded it back up and simply

stared ahead. I couldn't see her face but suspected she was frowning. Finally, she sighed in that woeful way of hers, turned off the light,

and started the car. I watched as she punched in Altswood, West Virginia into her GPS.

"What's in Altswood?" I asked, disappointed she hadn't entered something like Atlantic City .

"Nothing," she said, pulling back onto the road. "But it's the closest place to where we're going that the GPS can find."

A passing car's headlights briefly illuminated Dimitri's profile, and I saw curiosity on his face too. So. I wasn't the only one out of the

loop anymore. The GPS read almost an hour and a half to our destination. He didn't question her choice, though, and turned back to

me.

"So what's going on with Lissa? What's this great plan of yours?" He glanced at Sydney. "Rose says there's something important

we have to do."

"So I gathered," said Sydney dryly. Dimitri looked back at me expectantly.

I took a deep breath. It was time to reveal the secret I'd been holding since my hearing. "So, it, um, turns out Lissa has a brother or

sister. And I think we should find them."

I managed to sound cool and casual as I spoke. Inside me, my heart lurched. Even though I'd had plenty of time to process Tatiana's

note, saying the words out loud made them real in a way they hadn't been before. It shocked me, hitting me with the full impact of what

this information truly meant and how it changed everything we'd all come to believe.

Of course, my shock was nothing compared to the others'. Score one for Rose and the element of surprise. Sydney made no

attempt to hide her astonishment and gasped. Even Dimitri seemed a little taken aback.

Once they recovered, I could see them preparing their protests. They would either demand evidence or simply dismiss the idea as

ridiculous. I immediately jumped into action before the arguments could start. I produced Tatiana's note, reading it aloud and then

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letting Dimitri look at it. I told them about my ghostly encounter, where the queen's troubled spirit made me believe there was truth to

this. Nonetheless, my companions were skeptical.

"You have no proof Tatiana wrote the note," said Dimitri.

"The Alchemists have no records of another Dragomir," said Sydney.

They each said exactly what I thought they would. Dimitri was the kind of guy always ready for a trick or trap. He suspected anything

without hard proof. Sydney lived in a world of facts and data and had total faith in the Alchemists and their information. If the Alchemists

didn't believe it, neither did she. Ghostly evidence didn't convince either of them.

"I don't really see why Tatiana's spirit would want to deceive me," I argued. "And the Alchemists aren't all-knowing. The note says

this is a pretty heavily guarded secret from Moroi—it makes sense it would be secret from the Alchemists too."

Sydney scoffed, not liking my "all-knowing" comment, but otherwise remained silent. It was Dimitri who pushed forward, refusing to

take anything on faith without more evidence.

"You've said before that it's not always clear what the ghosts are trying to say," he pointed out. "Maybe you misread her."

"I don't know . . ." I thought again about her solemn, translucent face. "I think she did write this note. My gut says she did." I narrowed

my eyes. "You know it's been right before. Can you trust me on this?"

He stared at me for several moments, and I held that gaze steadily. In that uncanny way of ours, I could guess what was going on.

The whole situation was far-fetched, but he knew I was right about my instincts. They'd proven true in the past. No matter what he'd

been through, no matter the current antagonism between us, he still knew me enough to trust in this.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he nodded. "But if we decided to search for this alleged sibling, we'd be going against Lissa's instructions

to stay put."

"You believe that note?" exclaimed Sydney. "You're considering listening to it?"

A flash of anger lit up within me, one I worked to hide. Of course. Of course this would be the next obstacle: Dimitri's inability to

disobey Lissa. Sydney feared Abe, which I could kind of understand, but Dimitri's concern was still the lofty vow of chivalry he'd made

to Lissa. I took a deep breath. Telling him how ridiculous I thought he was behaving wouldn't accomplish what I needed.

"Technically, yes. But if we could actually prove she wasn't the last in her family, it would help her a lot. We can't ignore the chance,

and if you manage to keep me out of trouble while we do it"—I tried not to grimace at that—"then there shouldn't be a problem."

Dimitri considered this. He knew me. He also knew I would use roundabout logic if need be to get my way.

"Okay," he said at last. I saw the shift in his features. The decision was made, and he'd stick to it now. "But where do we start? You

have no other clues, aside from a mysterious note."

It was déjà vu and reminded me of Lissa and Christian's earlier conversation with Abe when they were figuring out where to start

their investigation. She and I lived parallel lives, it seemed, both pursuing an impossible puzzle with a sketchy trail. As I replayed their

discussion, I attempted the same reasoning Abe had used: without clues, start working through obvious conclusions.

"Obviously, this is a secret," I said. "A big one. One people have apparently wanted to cover up—enough that they'd try to steal

records about it and keep the Dragomirs out of power." Someone had broken into an Alchemist building and taken papers indicating

Eric Dragomir had indeed been funding a mystery woman. I pointed out to my companions that it seemed very likely to me this woman

was the mother of his love child. "You could look into that case some more." Those last words were spoken toward Sydney. Maybe

she didn't care about another Dragomir, but the Alchemists still wanted to know who had stolen from them.

"Whoa, hey. How was I not even part of this decision process? " She still hadn't recovered from our conversation suddenly running

away without her. After the way our night had gone so far, she didn't look too pleased about being sucked into another of my rogue

schemes. "Maybe breaking Lissa's orders is no big deal for you two, but I 'd be going against Abe. He might not be so lenient."

It was a fair point. "I'll pull in a daughterly favor," I assured her. "Besides, the old man loves secrets. He'd be into this, believe me.

And you've already found the biggest clue of all. I mean, if Eric was giving money to some anonymous woman, then why wouldn't it be

for his secret mistress and child?"

"Anonymous is the key word," Sydney said, still clearly skeptical of Zmey 's "leniency." "If your theory's right—and it's kind of a leap

—we still have no idea who this mistress is. The stolen documents didn't say."

"Are there other records that tie into the stolen ones? Or could you investigate the bank he was sending money to?" The Alchemists'

initial concern had simply been that someone had stolen hard copies of their records. Her colleagues had discovered which items

were taken but hadn't given much thought to the content. I was willing to bet they hadn't searched for any other documents related to

the same topic. She affirmed as much.

"You really have no idea how ‘researching records' works, do you? It's not that easy," she said. "It could take a while."

"Well . . . I guess that's why it's good we're going somewhere, um, secure, right?" I asked. Struck with the realization that we might

need time to put our next step together, I could kind of see the disadvantage of having lost our out-of-the-way hideout.