Among the other kids, I immediately spotted Diana under the canopy. She was sitting on a suitcase with a bored look, propping up her chin with one hand, and gazing sadly at the mosaic of small colorful tiles covering the small square beneath the canopy. It was good that there was no rain today.
"Hi," I greeted briefly, and my friend gave a lazy smile. "Why is everyone still outside?"
"Some mix-up with the room numbers. They're trying to figure out how to keep the boys and girls apart without mixing us with the sports teams."
"And is it working?"
"Judging by the fact that I've been standing here for about forty minutes — not really," she replied glumly, not even trying to cheer up.
Kostya placed the suitcase next to me and touched my shoulder.
"I'm going inside," my dad nodded toward the automatic doors. "I'll find out what's going on. Maybe I can help somehow."
"Okay," I agreed and cautiously sat down on my suitcase, not entirely sure of its stability. Unlike mine, Diana's suitcase looked more like a portable safe on wheels, with shiny material that could easily be mistaken for metal. However, I wouldn't have been surprised if it turned out to be made of aluminum or something similar, but I didn't ask her.
"Didn't sleep well?" I started, and Diana looked at me in surprise.
"I don't really need sleep, remember?" She leaned forward and whispered. "It's more of a pleasure, or when you want to clear your head."
"Then you have no excuse for the dark circles under your eyes," I joked, but to my misfortune, Diana took it seriously and started digging through her bag for a compact mirror.
"Damn," she muttered, examining her reflection. "I should've eaten with the others yesterday."
"What, didn't you drink blood before the trip?" I exclaimed louder than I intended, and Diana shushed me, anxiously scanning the crowd.
When she was sure no one had paid attention to my outburst, she spoke again.
"No, I didn't have time. The guys were in such a rush yesterday! The siblings didn't even seem to care about graduation. Viola, I think, just grabbed the first dress she found in her closet and tossed it in her suitcase without even bothering to iron it or at least put it in a garment bag to keep it safe. As for the guys, I won't even go into that: it's a disgrace. She waved her hand dismissively, but I easily understood from the pouting lips and furrowed brows just how upset Diana was with her family. "I spent all night making sure these idiots didn't dress like rainbow-colored parrots for graduation. Who wears black sneakers with gray pants and a brown belt? It's just an eyesore and a disgrace. In the end, I spent so much time on them that I didn't have any left for myself. I couldn't decide what to wear until the last minute."
"I figured that out," my hand shot up in a momentary urge to pat Diana on the shoulder, but as soon as my fingers neared her skin, she froze, like stone. Hesitating, I stood still, not touching her.
Our gazes met, and I quickly turned away, trying to focus on anything but her, not wanting to see the fear in her brown eyes, as I had so often in recent months. We couldn't forget what had happened last winter: she, because she had to remember the danger coming from me and never let her guard down, while I held onto the memory of wanting to attack Diana, just to make sure something like that wouldn't happen again.
Kaandor could have killed her. I could have killed her.
We almost killed her.
"Did you buy that sandy dress we found together in the mall?" Diana broke the silence first, and I felt a little relieved.
I smiled and shook my head. The dress had been the last thing on my mind since I was first turned.
"Nope. Dad and Mom said it was too expensive."
"But it's graduation!" Diana threw her arms up in frustration. "Your dad seems to make a decent income: four-bedroom apartment, expensive hobbies, trips to football matches in other cities. Maybe he's just being stingy?"
What Diana said left me confused. Didn't she know...?
"If only," I began carefully, and after a short pause, continued. "You know that no other police officer, like my dad, or any doctor, like yours, earns as much as Kostya and Vladimir?"
Diana looked at me with wide eyes and stopped blinking, as if she had never thought about where the money in their family came from. Had she ever met any truly grown-up mortals to understand how they live, and realize how different the reality of an average city dweller is from those chosen by the protection of another world, where magic, vampires, and wolves existed, rather than ordinary colds, debts, and unpaid bills? Maybe her rose-colored glasses distorted reality far more than mine had only recently.
"You're trying to say that any other family of a chief doctor at a hospital can't afford to live like we do?"
I shook my head, trying to suppress a grin. There was nothing to laugh about here.
"That's very unlikely. Maybe in Moscow—after all, it's the capital—or in other big cities where budgets are very different."
"Moscow isn't Russia," she blurted out.
She must have picked up that phrase from other classmates who had been to the capital, although I doubted there were many of them in our grade. Just because their parents frequently traveled to different cities and countries for work trips didn't mean they took their kids with them everywhere. My mom rarely took me when she went to Moscow for a book festival, leaving me with my grandmother and saying how difficult it would be to keep an eye on me at the event since she had to work.
"Anyway," I continued cautiously, not sure how to explain to Diana the true state of affairs: "Our fathers did business together until recently. You know, until all those research findings of Vladimir's and his collaboration with my mother came to light. The doctor made medicines and attracted wealthy people to Kserton: to some, he promised to cure their addictions with hypnosis, to others—help children whose diseases could no longer be treated by traditional medicine—in exchange for investments. Gradually, those whose families needed constant care began moving here and investing in the development of our town. If it weren't for your father's abilities, Kserton would have long been made of sawdust, because there was no other production or demand for his goods. Kostya kept order and cleaned up Vladimir's mistakes, finding common ground with the dissenters, especially the talkative ones, who put the town's fragile balance and artificial prosperity at risk."
The longer I spoke, the more I felt a lump in my throat. The truth had only been revealed to me recently, and it was still hard to accept. Seeing my father in a new, dark light, and not turning away, was easier said than done. I knew Kostya had done everything he thought was right to protect the simple townspeople of Kserton and the prosperity of the town, but thinking about the long list of things my father must have done made me feel sick. Our entire life had been tainted by years of joint service between my father and Vladimir and the machinations they had carried out year after year just to keep our secrets.
Diana turned away and began studying the tips of her immaculate shoes as though they had just come straight from the factory and onto her feet.
Perhaps Diana had already suspected everything but turned a blind eye to it, not wanting to delve into the details.
"Only money can buy silence," Diana said. "Big money."
"If you already suspected, then why pretend like you don't understand how much and why your father makes?"
"Look around," she gestured toward the classmates who were annoyed by the long wait. "Look at their clothes, the brands. Tanya's father even gave her a new foreign car for graduation, despite the trouble she's gotten herself into. What do you think, where do their parents get this money from?"
"What are you hinting at?"
She looked straight ahead with a blank stare. Her shoulders slumped under the weight of thoughts that had likely been troubling her for a long time.
"I think it's impossible to be both good and rich at the same time."
I snorted, not expecting to hear something like that from my friend.
"Yeah, let's now label anyone who earns a decent living to support their family as villains. Why not? The innovators, who are always inventing something and developing their fields, doing research—they must be thinking of nothing but how to trick everyone and bring about the end of the world."
"Why are you so angry?"
"Because you're just talking nonsense to justify your dad. Like, he's not evil, it's just that everyone around him is."
"Asya," Diana's voice trembled. "Don't."
"Don't what?" I looked her in the eyes and saw the tension on her face. "Stop defending him! Vladimir wipes his feet on you every time I see you two together, and you keep trying to paint him as a hero who has to do what he does for the greater good."
My voice grew louder, and Diana began looking around nervously.
"I didn't say anything like that," she replied in a cold tone. "Could you lower your voice? People are starting to notice."
"Let them."
Diana smirked.
"What happened to your usual 'be careful, or others will notice you're different'?"
I stared at her, trying to fully comprehend what she had just said. The question stung like a sharp pin. I wanted to bite my tongue, to make it stop sending words into the world so quickly, thoughtlessly, and emotionally.
"Hey," Stas spoke up, and if it weren't for him, I probably would have said even more to Diana, unable to stop myself. "What's all the noise about?"
"Never mind," I leaned forward and folded my arms in front of me, rubbing my palm with my thumb. "So, what about the rooms? Has it been resolved?"
Diana didn't try to explain anything to her brother and forced a smile, as though nothing had happened, but I could feel another brick being firmly added to the fresh wall between us. The construction of a barrier had resumed, and soon we would be on opposite sides of the playing field. Whether we could maintain our friendship as the shared history of the Smirnovs and Chernykh families grew more complicated with every meeting, I didn't know, but I understood very well—one can't balance forever somewhere in between, cautiously choosing words or tearing apart the delicate threads that had bound our souls together, pulling them closer to each other.
Yes, Vladimir and Konstantin ensured the safety of the local magical creatures. This had to be respected, and at the same time, I understood that probably every vacation and the four-room apartment we had were paid for by funds that should have gone toward the benefit of others, not for personal comfort and entertainment. But it's easy to talk about justice when your plate is full and your heart is light. Growing up, perhaps, meant finally learning to make tough decisions, testing your moral compass for accuracy again and again. I'd bet Vladimir's needle had long pointed straight to hell. No matter what benefits he used to brainwash his children, in my memory are the burned-in names of those who suffered from his feigned virtue.
"It seems Konstantin helped solve the housing issue so that the sports teams and our grade were more or less evenly distributed: they decided to send the guys to the top floor and the girls closer to the reception, on the second. The teachers and coaches got rooms closer to the stairs, to make sure they could hear if anyone tried sneaking from the boys' rooms to the girls' or vice versa."
Diana raised her hands in annoyance.
"Great! I can barely see Max because he's always helping his dad. I thought at least here we could spend some time alone," she pouted, and I couldn't help but smile at her naivety.
"Did you really think the principal would let you two stay in the same room?" I couldn't suppress a smirk and glanced at Stas briefly. A sly smile played across his face, the look of someone who was delighting in how he would ruin the teachers' brilliant plan.
"It doesn't concern us." He said self-assuredly, tilting his head to his shoulder, pleased with himself. "No teacher will hear us moving if we make the slightest effort."
"Personally, I'll hear just fine," I reminded him challengingly, trying to bring both of them back to reality. Stas's smile became less satisfied, though it didn't entirely fade. He slid a strange, studying gaze over my face, then down and back up again, before sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans and leaning so close to me that I felt his deep breath on my skin, as though it took a lot of effort for him to remain calm. Slowly, he leaned toward my ear and whispered:
"What, would you love to teach me biology, Black? I thought I was the one leading the labs in our pair."
The familiar scent of Stas hit my nose, perfectly blending with the summer evening and the setting sun on the horizon. The scent seemed to cover my soul with a satin blanket. Playfully, it slid softly across my skin, making everything inside me tremble, then slipped away from the tips of my fingers, leaving only memories of what had been. Elusive, alluring, and so desirable. I definitely didn't like how Stas affected me.
To break free from the wave of emotions that rushed over me, I pushed Stas away, trying to do it as gently as possible. Calculating strength was never easy, but lately, I had been making progress in pretending to be ordinary more convincingly.
Finally, the room key cards were handed out. Most of the guys were paired up. I don't know what Kostya said to the principal, but I got a single room, and maybe that was for the best, considering the circumstances: it was one thing to be in an apartment with mom and dad, who Kaandor wouldn't touch, and quite another to live in the same room with Diana or Dasha. I'll admit, I wanted to spend more time with my friends before graduation, but I knew perfectly well that Diana and Viola would most likely be sneaking to their boyfriends' rooms at night, while Dasha, torn between me and Tatyana, stuck with her old friend. It always hurt a little, though I understood in my head that you can't erase years of friendship just because someone new entered your life.
Dad suggested walking me to my room and carrying my suitcase, and I didn't argue, even though I didn't need the help. I appreciated his concern, and honestly, I was delaying as much as I could the moment when my father would leave. This trip promised to be some kind of test. It would show me if Kaandor and I had truly managed to establish a connection, but I swear, I would have preferred to test my self-control in a crowd of strangers rather than among the people I cared about. Kostya thought the stakes should be raised; otherwise, the experiment wouldn't make sense. Dad believed in me, and how I wished I could feel the same way.
The hallway on the girls' floor was crowded. Almost every door was wide open, and everyone was trying to settle in and rest as quickly as possible. The journey had exhausted many of them, and the issues with accommodation had taken so long to resolve! Surely tonight would be the only truly quiet night of the entire week.
"Seems like this one's yours," Kostya stopped by the closed door at the end of the hallway, and I swiped the key card at the lock. The indicator lit up green and beeped, after which the handle turned easily. I let Dad go in first, and he rolled the suitcase inside, placing it against the wall by the window.
There was a smell of freshly laundered linens and a soft scent of lavender. The room was small: a tiny hallway, with a bathroom on one side of the entrance, featuring a glass shower, and the bedroom right after the hallway. The furniture was sparse: near the entrance, opposite the bathroom, was a chest of drawers for clothes, and in the room, a double bed with nightstands on either side, and a desk opposite the bed.
There was a small fridge under the desk. Kostya noticed it too and hurried to look inside. When he opened the door, I saw that the shelves were nearly completely filled with various carbonated drinks, while the door was stocked with packets of nuts and chips. Dad studied the labels on the cans with a stern look:
"No alcohol," he nodded approvingly. "Thoughtful. That's good."
I laughed when I realized that Kostya was far more concerned about the alcohol in my blood than about the possibility of me staining all the hotel walls red.
"Dad," I started nervously laughing, "you know, I'm really not interested in beer or anything else. All alcohol tastes like solvent to me."
"And when did you manage to try every kind of alcohol and, especially, solvent, to make such conclusions?"
"Okay," I rolled my eyes and noted to myself that being a buzzkill was a family trait. "All the alcohol you and mom let me try didn't leave an impression."
"Oh really? So, you won't drink anything at graduation, even if your classmates offer?"
I lowered my gaze.
"Well, there won't be any alcohol."
Dad raised an eyebrow and looked at me with interest, as though expecting a follow-up. At some point, the pause became uncomfortable, and I shrugged.
"What?"
"No alcohol?" he asked with a smirk. "None? At graduation?"
"Well, yeah. Mom's on the parent committee and even mentioned it at home when you were there."
Kostya blinked several times, as if not believing what he had heard, then burst out laughing.
"Aha, ahem," Dad cleared his throat and tried to put on a less cheerful expression. "There won't be any alcohol at graduation. And, of course, no students secretly brought any with them. Of course, yes."
Dad brought his fist to his mouth and started clearing his throat again, still struggling to suppress his laughter. Of course, Dad probably saw every year how graduation at Kserton ended and knew perfectly well that some students would celebrate in their own way, but I had nothing to hide from Kostya. If the others had plans to sneak alcohol into the hotel, no one had shared them with me.
My phone vibrated in my back pocket, and I hurried to see who the message was from. While reading the popup from Denis, I missed the rest of Dad's comments, as he still couldn't let go of the alcohol topic at graduation.
"I need to go," I interrupted Dad. "Denis is done."
Dad looked at me in surprise.
"And what's he doing here?"
"Didn't Uncle tell you?" When Dad shook his head, I continued, "Denis and his mom are doing the floral decorations in the hall for graduation."
"But that's still a week away. What could they have come up with? The flowers will surely wilt by the big day."
I shrugged, giving Dad the impression that I probably knew no more than he did.
"I doubt it will be without magic," I threw the suitcase onto the floor and hurriedly opened it to get my running leggings, sports top, and t-shirt. "There are some works with the local garden too. Mom's involved as well."
"I see," Dad said and rubbed his neck with his palm, as he often did lately when I mentioned Mom. "Are you still on bad terms with her?"
"She's the one on bad terms with me."
"Asya," Dad stretched out, "maybe enough already?"
I shrugged. It was hard to imagine what could happen between me and Maria to warm our relationship even slightly. The Maria who had raised me with my grandmother in Rostov was long gone. In her place was an unpleasant stranger. By the way—an irresponsible witch with no more understanding of morality than Doctor Vladimir.
"Maybe enough. I don't know. Time will tell." I packed the clothes I needed and headed to the bathroom. "I think it's time for you to go."
Dad loudly inhaled through his nostrils and exhaled slowly.
"Alright," he finally said, "that's between you two."
Dad fastened his jacket and aligned himself with me by the door. It was at that moment that I saw Kaandor behind him. The dark spirit's black muzzle almost blended into the darkness of the hallway. His presence was more clearly revealed by his amber eyes, which in the dim light seemed to shimmer with golden particles.
"You'll call if something goes wrong, won't you?" Dad said, and a chilling smile that resembled a grimace spread across the spirit's face.
"Of course," I tried to sound as confident as possible, but I already knew that even if the worst happened, Kaandor would do everything to make sure I was left without help.