"Safer? Safer? We are at war with the Strigoi!" he yelled. I could smell coffee on his breath, he was so close. "One of them could walk right up to you and snap your pretty little neck before you even noticed him - and he'd barely break a sweat doing it. You might have more speed and strength than a Moroi or a human, but you are nothing, nothing, compared to a Strigoi. They are deadly, and they are powerful. And do you know what makes them more powerful?"
No way was I going to let this jerk make me cry. Looking away from him, I tried to focus on something else. My eyes rested on Dimitri and the other guardians. They were watching my humiliation, stone-faced.
"Moroi blood," I whispered.
"What was that?" asked Stan loudly. "I didn't catch it."
I spun back around to face him. "Moroi blood! Moroi blood makes them stronger."
He nodded in satisfaction and took a few steps back. "Yes. It does. It makes them stronger and harder to destroy. They'll kill and drink from a human or dhampir, but they want Moroi blood more than anything else. They seek it. They've turned to the dark side to gain immortality, and they want to do whatever they can to keep that immortality. Desperate Strigoi have attacked Moroi in public. Groups of Strigoi have raided academies exactly like this one. There are Strigoi who have lived for thousands of years and fed off generations of Moroi. They're almost impossible to kill. And that is why Moroi numbers are dropping. They aren't strong enough - even with guardians - to protect themselves. Some Moroi don't even see the point of running anymore and are simply turning Strigoi by choice. And as the Moroi disappear..."
"...so do the dhampirs," I finished.
"Well," he said, licking sprayed spit off his lips. "It looks like you learned something after all. Now we'll have to see if you can learn enough to pass this class and qualify for your field experience next semester."
Ouch. I spent the rest of that horrible class - in my seat, thankfully - replaying those last words in my mind. The senior-year field experience was the best part of a novice's education. We'd have no classes for half a semester. Instead, we'd each be assigned a Moroi student to guard and follow around. The adult guardians would monitor us and test us with staged attacks and other threats. How a novice passed that field experience was almost as important as all the rest of her grades combined. It could influence which Moroi she got assigned to after graduation.
And me? There was only one Moroi I wanted.
Two classes later, I finally earned my lunch escape. As I stumbled across campus toward the commons, Dimitri fell into step beside me, not looking particularly godlike - unless you counted his godly good looks.
"I suppose you saw what happened in Stan's class?" I asked, not bothering with titles.
"Yes."
"And you don't think that was unfair?"
"Was he right? Do you think you were fully prepared to protect Vasilisa?"
I looked down at the ground. "I kept her alive," I mumbled.
"How did you do fighting against your classmates today?"
The question was mean. I didn't answer and knew I didn't need to. I'd had another training class after Stan's, and no doubt Dimitri had watched me get beat up there too.
"If you can't fight them - "
"Yeah, yeah, I know," I snapped.
He slowed his long stride to match my pain-filled one. "You're strong and fast by nature. You just need to keep yourself trained. Didn't you play any sports while you were gone?"
"Sure," I shrugged. "Now and then."
"You didn't join any teams?"
"Too much work. If I'd wanted to practice that much, I'd have stayed here."
He gave me an exasperated look. "You'll never be able to really protect the princess if you don't hone your skills. You'll always be lacking."
"I'll be able to protect her," I said fiercely.
"You have no guarantees of being assigned to her, you know - for your field experience or after you graduate." Dimitri's voice was low and unapologetic. They hadn't given me a warm and fuzzy mentor. "No one wants to waste the bond - but no one's going to give her an inadequate guardian either. If you want to be with her, then you need to work for it. You have your lessons. You have me. Use us or don't. You're an ideal choice to guard Vasilisa when you both graduate - if you can prove you're worthy. I hope you will."
"Lissa, call her Lissa," I corrected. She hated her full name, much preferring the Americanized nickname.
He walked away, and suddenly, I didn't feel like such a badass anymore.
By now, I'd burned up a lot of time leaving class. Most everyone else had long since sprinted inside the commons for lunch, eager to maximize their social time. I'd almost made it back there myself when a voice under the door's overhang called to me.
"Rose?"
Peering in the voice's direction, I caught sight of Victor Dashkov, his kind face smiling at me as he leaned on a cane near the building's wall. His two guardians stood nearby at a polite distance.
"Mr. Dash-er, Your Highness. Hi."
I caught myself just in time, having nearly forgotten Moroi royal terms. I hadn't used them while living among humans. The Moroi chose their rulers from among twelve royal families. The eldest in the family got the title of "prince" or "princess." Lissa had gotten hers because she was the only one left in her line.