The Ruby Circle

Epilogue Adrian

“IS THAT THEM?” MY MOTHER CALLED. “I thought I heard the door.”

“It had better be,” I said, taking a pan out of the oven and carefully setting it on the counter. “This roast is at peak deliciousness. I’m not waiting for them to dive in. It would be a crime. A declaration of war against fine cuisine everywhere.”

My mother, used to my theatrics, smiled. “Sydney’s not here yet either.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well, I’ll wait for her.”

Eddie stuck his head in the kitchen, his face alight. “They’re here.”

I took off my oven mitts and apron and strolled out to the living room to see the guests who’d just come into the living room of our small rented house. I hadn’t seen Rose and Dimitri in almost a year and a half, right around the time Jill had been rescued from the Warriors in St. George. They looked the same as ever, gorgeous and formidable, as they stamped snow off their boots and gave us big smiles. Jill, who’d traveled with them, had already thrown herself into Eddie’s arms and was kissing him.

“Whoa, hey,” I said. “It hasn’t been that long since you saw each other. Control yourselves.”

It had actually been about a month since they’d been together, which I knew probably felt like an eternity to them. They’d been dating ever since her rescue from St. George, but she had had to go back to Court to finish her education while Eddie stayed with us. So their relationship had become a long-distance one over the last year, with her visiting us on breaks or him going to Court when he could get another guardian to stay with us.

Jill flushed pink and extracted herself from Eddie long enough to give me a hug. “I’ve missed you so much!” she said.

“I’ve missed you too,” I told her warmly. Every time I saw her, I was astonished to see how much she had transformed from an awkward girl into a poised princess of the Dragomir line. “But you’ve got to admit, I’ve been pretty good about updates. And I send you pictures every week.”

She grinned. “I know, I know. It’s just a little different not being with you like I used to.”

I planted a kiss on her forehead. “Better for both of us that way, Jailbait.”

I’d held good on my word to Sydney. I’d gone back on my meds, silencing both spirit and Aunt Tatiana. It had also quieted the bond between Jill and me. She still had a sense of me but no longer the intimate view into my heart and mind like she’d once had. Before I could say more to her, a plaintive wail made its way to us.

“The little master awakes,” I said. “Be right back.”

I sprinted out of the room and up the stairs, to the bedroom that doubled as both a nursery and Eddie’s room. I had high enough royal rank to finally be assigned my own guardian, and Eddie, in that noble way of his, had pulled strings to be assigned to us. I’d initially protested because I wanted him to stay at Court and have a semi-normal dating life with Jill. Eddie, however, felt obligated to be with us—both out of friendship to Sydney and me and for all the times Neil had helped him. We’d offered to turn the house’s small study into Eddie’s own bedroom, but he always ended up sleeping in Declan’s room anyway.

“Hey, buddy,” I said, walking over to the crib. Declan stood there in fire truck pajamas, watching me seriously with big brown eyes. His dark curls were tousled from sleep, but he beamed as I approached and lifted him out. “Did you have a good nap? We have guests, you know. Aunt Jill is back.”

Declan leaned his head against me and yawned, not responding. He was only a year and a half and not much of a conversationalist. Only a few of us knew his true age, however. To the rest of the world, we said he was just over a year old.

That was because we were also telling the rest of the world that he was my and Sydney’s son.

Neil had been convinced it was the only way to give Declan a chance at an ordinary life, and we’d finally respected Neil’s wishes to stay in hiding. There was no other family to care for Declan; Nina had never recovered. Even if we’d passed Declan off as Olive’s son, whom we were raising on her behalf, there might still be too many questions about his father. But if we, a Moroi and a human, said we had a dhampir son, there was no reason for anyone to think we weren’t telling the truth.

And so Sydney and I had dropped out of contact with everyone for a while, finally telling the world we had a baby a few months after his supposed birthday. We claimed she’d gotten pregnant right after being rescued from re-education, and then we’d said he came early. We stayed away from people enough that we were able to fudge the dates and make it all seem plausible. If we seemed secretive in our actions, most people assumed it was because we were still nervous about the Alchemists. They’d held good on their word to leave us alone so far, but everyone understood why we might be wary.

It had also helped that we’d had excellent allies. There was no way Sydney and I could’ve pulled all this off without our friends. Rose and Dimitri had helped cover for us back at Court. My mom had been huge in helping watch Declan so that Sydney and I could still pursue other interests. Eddie had also helped take care of him, along with offering us much-needed protection. He was also the only one of us who’d finally gotten in touch with Neil in whatever undisclosed location he was at. Neil still kept his distance but had recently allowed Eddie to send updates and pictures, and our hope was that someday Neil and Declan could be back in each other’s lives.

“Look at him!” squealed Jill when I came down the stairs. “He’s gotten so big!”

Even Rose and Dimitri got in on the baby admiration. Whereas we’d seen Jill recently, it had been months and months since their last visit. Declan was probably a giant to them. “We should’ve brought him a silver stake,” Dimitri said. “I’m surprised Eddie hasn’t taught him already.”

Eddie, his arm resting on Jill, smiled. “We work on it right after morning nap.”

The living room door opened again, and Sydney stepped through, snowflakes in her blond hair, a backpack over one shoulder, and a paper bag in her arms. I quickly handed Declan to Jill and took the bags from Sydney. Inside the paper one, I saw French bread and some fruit. The backpack felt like it had a hundred books in it, which was probably true. She smiled up at me as she took her heavy coat off.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said. “The roads were bad.”

Underneath the coat, she wore a red wool dress and a nametag reading SYDNEY IVASHKOV, STUDENT DOCENT. “Exciting times at the museum?” I asked.

“Always,” she said, giving me a brief kiss on the lips.

“Better be careful in that dress,” I said. “Someone might mistake you for a work of art.”

After we’d moved here last year, Sydney had been ready to throw herself into the job market to support us, and that’s when we’d had our first real fight that didn’t involve something supernatural. I’d been insistent she finally go to college. She’d said it could wait until our finances built up. Fortunately, another good friend had come through for us: Clarence. With his ample fortune, he’d been more than happy to send us regular stipends—in fact, we’d had to limit him so as not to attract too much attention. But between those payments and student loans, Sydney had finally achieved her dream of studying ancient art at a local university. She’d even nabbed an internship at their museum.

Recently, I’d also been able to help our family income with . . . my own job.

Sometimes that seemed like the most surreal part of all. Me, Adrian Ivashkov, earning an ordinary living. After all the bizarre ups and downs I’d had with money, going from a spoiled kid with unlimited funds to a guy cut off by his father, it seemed unreal sometimes that I now got by with an hourly wage like everyone else. Equally astonishing was how much I’d grown to like it. I’d honestly never expected to get a job with my art degree—if I even finished it. There just weren’t that many jobs demanding artists and certainly not ones that needed people with incomplete art degrees. While helping out a neighbor one day, though, I’d learned her daughter’s preschool was looking for a part-time art teacher. At that level, my degree didn’t matter so much, just my enthusiasm for teaching art to kids. Incredibly, I’d turned out to be pretty good at it—though maybe it was just my natural-born immaturity that allowed me to relate to kids. I’d found a few other preschools and pitched myself to them too, eventually gathering enough part-time positions to contribute substantially to our family’s income.

The original place liked me so much that the director had told me if I finished a bachelor’s degree in education, I could come work a full-time teacher’s position with better pay and solid hours. Sydney hadn’t pressured me to go back to college, but when she’d heard that, her eyes had lit up, and I had a feeling she’d be working my college tuition into her master budget.

I’d never seen this budget plan, but it apparently accounted for a lot of things. So far, it managed to support the five of us in the rented house and had a timeline in place for when we’d be able to afford a house of our own, more education for her and me, and eventually Declan’s education. It was pretty impressive that she could make all of this work, but then, I’d learned to expect impressive things from her.

She hugged all our guests and then took Declan from Jill. Pretending he was our dhampir son might have started off as an act, but it had become reality as far as we were concerned. Sydney loved the little guy fiercely and, like the rest of us, would do anything for him. She kissed the top of his curly head and was rewarded with a smile. “¿Cómo estás, mi amor?” she asked, carrying him off to the kitchen to check dinner.

Rose turned to me. “Did she just speak to him in Spanish?”

“Yeah,” I said. “She only speaks to him in Spanish, actually. It was in some parenting book she read about kids learning a second language.”

“We should eat,” my mother said, shooting me a wry look. “Otherwise a crime against fine cuisine might be committed.”

That was another thing I’d taken upon myself, along with my collection of jobs: cooking. And it turned out I wasn’t so bad at that either.

Later, when dinner had wound down and we were all around the table, I found myself gazing around and unable to believe this was how my life had turned out. Never would I have guessed I’d fall so comfortably into the role of husband and father. Never would I have guessed I’d be married to a human. And I certainly wouldn’t have guessed I’d be so happy without spirit.

After we’d rescued Jill and agreed to raise Declan, we’d had to make a very quick decision about where to run off to with our newly bought freedom. Northern Maine had won out. Close to civilization but far enough that it wasn’t so easy for someone to sneak up on us. I still woke conflicted sometimes, feeling guilty for loving Declan so much, being so glad I was able to call him my son. And always, always, I felt guilty for not saving Olive, for not having rationed my spirit that night.

But the past was gone, and all I could do now was honor Olive’s wishes and give Declan as normal a life as possible. So far, we seemed to be pulling that off. He had no idea there was anything different about himself. Only a handful of people knew he wasn’t actually my son. Even fewer than that knew the truth of his remarkable parentage. Everyone here at this Christmas gathering was in that elite group. All knew about Declan’s past, and all were committed to protecting his future.

Thinking about that, my gaze rested on Rose and Dimitri, sitting together at one end of the table. We’d told them about Declan because the odds were good they too were in the same situation as Olive and Neil. Both Dimitri and Olive had been restored from being Strigoi, and whatever feat of spirit had allowed Olive to conceive with another dhampir would likely apply to Rose and Dimitri also. Unlike us, however, they weren’t going to be able to go off and cover up the miracle. Their lives were too visible. If they had a child together, everyone would know . . . and the revelation would come to light. Both of them knew this, but what their future plans were, I still didn’t know.

Well, I soon learned one plan of theirs.

“Holy crap,” I said. While staring off at Rose and Dimitri, a brilliant flash had caught my eye—a flash on Rose’s finger.

“What’s that?” I exclaimed. “Did you rob Lissa’s crown jewels?”

Rose, in what was a rare look for her, actually appeared flustered. “Maybe it’s too much.”

Dimitri brought her hand up to his lips and kissed the top of it. “No, it’s perfect.”

Jill clapped her hands in delight. “An engagement ring!”

“Hold up,” I ordered. “Show the goods.”

With Dimitri grinning, Rose complied, holding out her left hand for the rest of the table to see. It was a remarkable piece of work. A large, perfectly cut round diamond was set into a lacy square of platinum filigree that was edged in tiny blue opals. It was a statement ring if ever there was one, and a wholly unexpected choice.

“Did you pick that out?” I asked Dimitri. Honestly, I would have expected him to bend a piece of steel with his bare hands and present her with that.

“He did,” said Rose, her normal good humor returning. “He kept telling me that once I turned twenty, it was just a matter of time before he proposed. I told him if he did, he better make it a rock star ring—nothing subtle.”

“That’s pretty rock star,” said Eddie. “How long ago did this happen?”

“About a month,” said Dimitri. “I got her to wear it but can’t get her to set a date.”

She grinned. “All in good time, comrade. Maybe when I’m thirty. There’s no hurry. Besides, surely Christian’s going to propose to Liss one of these days. We don’t want to overshadow them.”

Dimitri shook his head in exasperation, but he kept smiling. “You’ve always got an excuse, Roza. One of these days . . .”

“One of these days,” she agreed.

We stayed up late catching up with everyone and then finally dispersed for bed. Rose and Dimitri were camped out in the living room, and Jill had made the study her bedroom, just as she always did when she visited. Declan had passed out a while ago, and once I made sure he was resting comfortably in his crib, I made my way to my own bedroom. This house we’d been renting was an old Victorian, and our bedroom was in the turret, which was off to the house’s side and practically its own wing. I loved the room’s round shape and privacy. It made me feel like we were in our own castle.

Seeing as Jill had taken over Sydney’s usual studying place, I wasn’t surprised to find Sydney on our bed surrounded by books now, wearing a short robe. “You changed,” I said, shutting the door behind me. “I was hoping to see some more of that red dress.”

She smiled up at me and closed a textbook entitled Minoan Art and Architecture. “I thought you’d like this better. But I could go put it back on if you want.”

I helped her stack up the books and move them off the bed so that I could sit beside her. “That depends,” I said, running a hand over her leg. “Is there anything on under it?”

“Nope. Probably I should change.” She pretended to get up, and I caught her hand, pulling her down and rolling her to her back.

“Don’t even think of it.” She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I noticed she still had on her rings, which reminded me of our guests’ big news. “I’d been wondering how Rose and Dimitri would handle having kids or not,” I remarked. “But I guess that’s a question that won’t be decided for a while, seeing as how he can’t even get her to the altar.”

Sydney laughed. “I think he’ll get her there sooner than you think. She talks a good game, but I bet she’ll give in eventually. I did.”

“Yeah, but Belikov’s not nearly as charming as I am. Or as good a cook. It’s an uphill battle for him.”

“Maybe you can give him some pointers,” Sydney teased.

“Maybe,” I agreed. I brought my mouth down and kissed her, amazed at how one touch from her always set me aflame. Even after long days, whenever I came home to her, I always felt alive and energized. I’d worried once we weren’t always on the run and living life on the edge that the passion might fade between us. If anything, stability—and, most importantly, freedom—had ignited it even more. The sentiment I’d had last year had been confirmed: I didn’t need spirit. I just needed Sydney. I slid my hand to the sash in her robe and discovered she’d tied it with some sort of sailor’s knot that only she could undo. “Oh, come on,” I groaned.

“Sorry,” she said, laughing again. “I didn’t even think about it. Honest.”

“I believe you,” I said. I paused to kiss the nape of her neck. “You’re the smartest girl I know. You can’t help knowing everything and being constantly brilliant—and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I kissed her lips again, but after several moments, she pulled back slightly.

“Hey,” she murmured. “There are people in the house.”

“There are always people in the house,” I reminded her. “That’s why we escaped up here to the castle tower. Escape plan number . . . hell, I don’t know. I lost count. We haven’t had to come up with some dreamy escape plan in a while.”

Sydney trailed her fingers down the side of my face. “That’s because we’re living it, Adrian. This is the only escape plan we need.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, propping myself up on one elbow. I tried to put on a thoughtful, speculative expression. “Because there are things that could be tweaked. Like a bigger house. Or maybe—”

“Adrian,” she interrupted. “Didn’t you just say I’m brilliant and know everything? Then trust me on this.”

“Always,” I said, letting her pull me back down to her. “Always.”