Only Him

Chapter 6

James Wakefield was a tall, gawky sixteen-year-old Moroi. He had dark bruises under his eyes that looked permanent and a quiet, troubled personality. He actually reminded me a little of Christian when we'd been at St. Vlad's.

Lissa and Sonya had spent the better part of the past three days with him. They'd taken one look at him the first day and confirmed Kriova and Mrs. Carmack's suspicions.

"His aura is so bright!" Lissa had exclaimed upon seeing him. James had gaped at them too, not because of who they were, the queen and ex-Strigoi, but because he'd seen their auras too. He'd heard of spirit before, almost everyone in our society had by this point, but it took some convincing for him to accept that he'd specialized in it.

I knew about the hardships of spirit from my experiences in Lissa's head while she struggled with it. I sympathized for the boy. Being told you were a spirit user was as much of a blessing as it was a curse.

I'd spent a little time with them, pitching in with the off-handed comment or two, and warnings about being shadow-kissed, but for the most part I participated in the activities Alberta had assigned to me.

Dimitri and I participated in the field experience, taking on half a dozen novices as they followed their Moroi around on their Saturday routine. It had been fun though not much competition. It wasn't truly fair to have us fight the novices, Dimitri and I were in a different caliber altogether, but Alberta insisted that it gave them a good feel for unequal pairings in fights. I'd been taken down only once, when I'd been teamed up on by three different novices. It had been pretty fun, despite the large bruise on my jaw.

I didn't think Dimitri felt the same.

We spent our time off on Sunday together, wandering through the grounds visiting our old haunts while I bolstered his spirit with reminders that the past was the past and he was no longer like the Strigoi we were playing and by the time Monday came along with our promise to Alberta to speak to the class, he was in much higher spirits.

I walked into Bodyguard Theory a few minutes before the bell rang, casting a curious look around the room. It was completely full, the seats filled by novices (there would be no playing hookie or faked illnesses on a day like today), and the back wall lined with campus guardians, including Alberta. But no Stan.

I voiced my observation to Dimitri.

He chuckled. "Stan isn't assigned here anymore. He guards a Lazar lord somewhere in Canada now."

"Really?" I asked, impressed. I'd never thought of Stan being anywhere other than the academy. Dimitri seemed to know what I was thinking.

"The academy is a temporary stop for many guardians, unless they have a particular gift in teaching. Many are placed here for a year or so to pitch in, offer new faces, and then are sent off to guard someone."

"Huh. Never thought I'd say this, but good for old Stan."

The new instructor, a dhampir in his forties, welcomed us and called the class to order.

"Everyone," he called in a no-nonsense voice. "We have some guests here with us today. Guardian Belikov and Guardian Hathaway have been nice enough to donate their time and tell us of some of their experiences. Do behave." Nobody in the class even looked like they were contemplating otherwise.

I stepped forward, always the more social when it came to Dimitri and myself, and spoke.

"I used to love days like this when I was here," I said. I walked to stand beside a boy with dirty blond hair that stuck up at odd angles. "I used to sit in this desk," I tapped the desk in front of him. He looked up at me with appreciative eyes. I was used to that type of attention. "and annoy the shit out of Guardian Alto." A rumble of giggles passed over the class. I moved away from the desk and continued down the row. "We'd sit in this class and talk theory. We'd propose different situations and come up with action plans. We were so precise in how we'd approach a situation. Unfortunately, it's never like that in the real world." I moved down the row and back towards the front of the room. I felt all eyes on me.