Total Quality Management High School Case Study

Total Quality Management High School - Case Study Example The categories are sorted from highest the number of occurrences to the least number of occurrences. The chart shows that Confusion (37.5%), Strain (30.0%) and Sprain (12.5%) represent 80% of the total injuries received. The rest of the injuries received such as foreign body, abrasion, punctures and others represent 20% of the total injuries received. ii. The Pareto Chart will be used to report the sorted injuries received according to the number of occurrences. It shows that the most frequent injury received is Confusion, followed by Strain and Sprain which constitute 80% of the total injuries received. The priority will go to the vital few as compared to the trivial many. d. A Pareto chart shows both frequency and prioritisation of qualitative data or categories. On the other hand, a pie chart identifies data in relation to the whole while a bar chart compares data relative to one issue or among individual items. It is advantageous to use a Pareto chart when comparing different causes or issues and identifying which one needs the most priority and focus. A pie chart is useful when a report requires a display of percentages of categories that represents the whole pie. A bar chart is useful when comparing the frequency of data over time or illustrating frequency of different categories without the need of prioritisation. e. e. The data follow the Pareto principle when it is arranged in accordance from the most frequent category to the least frequent ones. It will show vital few and the trivial many. The trivial few in the data are Confusion (75), Strain (60), and Sprain (25). It represents 37.5%, 30.0% and 12.5%, respectively, of the whole categories of injuries received. Consequently, the three injuries also signify 80% of the problems. Question 4 - TQM Principle a. Total Quality Management (TQM) is a management philosophy that involves every person in the organisation and every phase of it operation. It employs a customer-focus definition which aims at maximising customer satisfaction. The role of management is vital in TQM such that they must be fully committed in TQM and this commitment must stream down the organisation. As for the Iron-Ore mining company, it overlooked the TQM principle that everyone must be involved. The General Manager decided on a 10% budget cut across the organisation without involving and aligning the ideas of the three section managers. Deciding on reducing the budget is a financial decision that ultimately hurts the operation of the company. TQM involves a process based approach which recognises the different contribution of each process to the whole business. The company also ignore the importance of customer centred definition of TQM. The goal of TQM is to satisfy customer needs and requirements. A business strategy that employs TQM focuses on the demand of the customers. The Iron-Ore mining company neglected to forecast the demand of iron ore. The Railway Manager focused on the 10% reduction of budget which consequently resulted to a reduction of capacity. Such reduction of capacity became a constraint in satisfying the customer demand. If they have prioritised the 60 mtpa requirement, they would incur a lower cost per unit even if they have greater total expenditure. Another principle of TQM involves the employment of

A Theory of Cross-Cultural Communication Essay Example for Free

A Theory of Cross-Cultural Communication Essay A Theory of Cross-Cultural Communication  © Anthony Pym 2003 Intercultural Studies Group Universitat Rovira i Virgili Tarragona, Spain* Pre-print version 3. 3 The following is a series of propositions designed to connect a few ideas about translation as a mode of cross-cultural communication. The ideas are drawn from a multiplicity of existing theories; the aim is not particularly to be original. The propositions are instead intended to link up three endeavors: an abstract conception of cross-cultural communication, a description of the specificities of translation, and an attempt to envisage the future of such communication in a globalizing age. The various points at which the propositions draw on or diverge from previous theories are indicated in a series of notes. 1. 1. 1. 1. 2. On cross-cultural communication in general Cross-cultural communication involves the perceived crossing of a point of contact between cultures. Cultures here are minimally seen as large-scale systems of assumed shared references, linguistic or otherwise1, used for the purposes of reducing complexity. 2 Cultures themselves may idealize one or several centers, where the shared references are felt to be so dense that communication would be without any need for reductions of complexities. Away from such ideals, cultures have peripheries, where references are sparse, or sparsely shared, or mixed with references shared by other cultures. The terms â€Å"center† and â€Å"periphery† are not to be understood geopolitically. (cf. Even-Zohar 1990, Toury 1995) The differences between centers and peripheries are operative fictions rather than primary empirical facts. The very belief that one is in a central position may be enough to curtail complexity, just as the false impression that one is lacking in context may increase complexity. (Pym 1998) The difference between center and periphery may also be characterized in terms of effort. When shared references are believed to be dense (all else being equal), the reduction of complexity requires less effort than when the references are believed to be sparse. Effort here is understood as being on both the sending and receiving sides of messages, as well as in any mediating position or investment in the channel. A text sent and received near a perceived center will thus require less investment of effort than the same text sent from a center to a periphery (assuming that the reduction of complexity is 1. 3. 1. 4. 1. 5. to be to a similar degree in both cases). And further supplementary effort will be needed if the text is to be received in another culture. (Pym 1995) 1. 6. The lines between cultures are marked as cross-over points where the communication act receives supplementary effort of a mediating and discontinuous nature. Such points are usually where translations are carried out. (Pym 2001a) Cross-cultural communication thus marks the points of contact between cultures, although it alone will not join up the points to form any kind of line. (Pym 1998, 2001a, cf. Chatwin 1987) On complexity and its reduction Texts are inscribed objects that can be interpreted in different ways and for different functions, quite independently of any original intentions. The plurality of possible interpretations is what we are calling complexity. The reduction of complexity does not imply any discerning of a true or primal meaning. For example, a reader at this point might interpret the term â€Å"reduction of complexity† as â€Å"understanding†, but such a reading will hopefully be deviated by the following paragraphs. In this sense, the reduction of complexity does not entail an act of understanding in any idealist sense. Nor must effort be expended only to reduce complexity. Effort can also be used to make texts more complex, preparing them for a greater plurality of interpretations. Such might be a certain conception of aesthetic pleasure, diplomatic ambiguity, or communicative mechancete. The degree of appropriate complexity is in each case dependent on the success conditions of the communicative act concerned. On success conditions Success conditions are criteria that make the communicative act beneficial for all or some of the participants concerned. 4 Such criteria may be simple, as in the case of a business negotiation to reach mutual agreement on a sales price: the success condition might be that a price is agreed to by all participants.

Comparing Education for Leisure and Miracle on St. David’s Day :: Carol Ann Duffy Gillian Clarke Poems Essays

Comparing Education for Leisure and Miracle on St. David’s Day This essay will explore the similarities and differences between the two poems ‘Education for leisure’ which was written by Carol Ann Duffy and ‘Miracle on St. David’s Day’ by Gillian Clarke. The theme focused on the poems is ‘outsider’. In ‘Education for Leisure’ the man is an outsider because he is being ignored, however in ‘miracle on St. David’s Day’, the patient is well taken care of but is an outsider in his mind because he is sick and cannot speak. He wants to be an outsider so that no one can notice him. Firstly, the poem ‘Education for leisure’ creates a negative atmosphere caused by the treacherous outsider. Every stanza concludes with a full stop. The poem has five verses overall. Duffy has written this poem in the style of a diary, rather than constructing the words to rhyme. This is shown by the word ‘I’. She has also used metaphors to express the circumstances ‘†¦boredom stirring in the streets.’ This phrase shows that the day is awfully uninspired and no one is in prospect. This day is like any other day for the man because his life is filled with sadness. He feels uninspired and may feel frustrated due to the ‘boredom’. He wants to destroy something, ‘I am going to kill something.’ This phrase is directly alerting the reader that the man is unstable and is enthusiastic to kill. He is too weak and defenceless to kill a living thing so he mentions of victimising an object. It also indicates that the poem is occurring in the present tense. Duffy has used this to add to the tension in the mind of the speaker. The self-centeredness of the speaker appears in the repeated use of "I", "me", "my". ‘I have had enough of being ignored†¦Ã¢â‚¬â„¢ this shows that the people around him do not take enough consideration towards him, therefore he feels insecure and abandoned. He has no one to express what he is feeling because he feels isolated. Duffy creates an image of a lonely, desperate man that desires to be heard so the reader’s emotions would be pitiful. The writer wants the reader’s emotions to be sympathetic towards the character. The speaker has no idea what he is saying so he constantly changes the subject this is referred to by the quote: ‘We did that at school. Shakespeare. It was in another language and now the fly is in another’ this quote does not make sense due to the fact that the speaker keeps changing the topic he is talking about.

The Twilight Saga 2: New Moon Chapter 1 PARTY

I WAS NINETY-NINE POINT NINE PERCENT SURE I WAS dreaming. The reasons I was so certain were that, first, I was standing in a bright shaft of sunlightthe kind of blinding clear sun that never shone on my drizzly new hometown in Forks, Washingtonand second, I was looking at my Grandma Marie. Gran had been dead for six years now, so that was solid evidence toward the dream theory. Gran hadn't changed much; her face looked just the same as I remembered it. The skin was soft and withered, bent into a thousand tiny creases that clung gently to the bone underneath. Like a dried apricot, but with a puff of thick white hair standing out in a cloud around it. Our mouthshers a wizened pickerspread into the same surprised half-smile at just the same time. Apparently, she hadn't been expecting to see me, either. I was about to ask her a question; I had so manyWhat was she doing here in my cream? What had she been up to in the past six years? Was Pop okay, and had they found each other, wherever they werebut she opened her mouth when I did, so I stopped to let her go first. She paused, too, and then we Goth smiled at the little awkwardness. â€Å"Bella!† It wasn't Gran who called my name, and we both turned to see the addition to our small reunion. I didn't have to look to know who it was; this was a voice I would know anywhereknow, and respond to, whether I was awake or asleep or even dead, I'd bet. The voice I'd walk through fire foror, less dramatically, slosh every day through the cold and endless rain for. Edward. Even though I was always thrilled to see himconscious or otherwiseand even though I was almost positive that I was dreaming, I panicked as Edward walked toward us through the glaring sunlight. I panicked because Gran didn't know that I was in love with a vampirenobody knew thatso how was I supposed to explain the fact that the brilliant sunbeams were shattering off his skin into a thousand rainbow shards like he was made of crystal or diamond? Well, Gran, yon might have noticed that my boyfriend glitters. It's just something he does in the sun. Don't worry about it What was he doing? The whole reason he lived in Forks, the rainiest place in the world, was so that he could be outside in the daytime without exposing his family's secret. Yet here he was, strolling gracefully toward mewith the most beautiful smile on his angel's faceas if I were the only one here. In that second, I wished that I was not the one exception to his mysterious talent; I usually felt grateful that I was the only person whose thoughts he couldn't hear just as clearly as if they were spoken aloud. But now I wished he could hear me, too, so that he could hear the warning I was screaming in my head. I shot a panicked glance back at Gran, and saw that it was too late. She was just turning to stare back at me, her eyes as alarmed as mine. Edwardstill smiling so beautifully that my heart felt like it was going to swell up and burst through my chestput his arm around my shoulder and turned to face my grandmother. Gran's expression surprised me. Instead of looking horrified, she was staring at me sheepishly, as if waiting for a scolding. And she was standing in such a strange positionone arm held awkwardly away from her body, stretched out and then curled around the air. Like she had her arm around someone I couldn't see, someone invisible Only then, as I looked at the bigger picture, did I notice the huge gilt frame that enclosed my grandmother's form. Uncomprehending, I raised the hand that wasn't wrapped around Edward's waist and reached out to touch her. She mimicked the movement exactly, mirrored it. But where our fingers should have met, there was nothing but cold glass With a dizzying jolt, my dream abruptly became a nightmare. There was no Gran. That was me. Me in a mirror. Meancient, creased, and withered. Edward stood beside me, casting no reflection, excruciatingly lovely and forever seventeen. He pressed his icy, perfect lips against my wasted cheek. â€Å"Happy birthday,† he whispered. I woke with a startmy eyelids popping open wideand gasped. Dull gray light, the familiar light of an overcast morning, took the place of the blinding sun in my dream. Just a dream, I told myself. It was only a dream. I took a deep breath, and then jumped again when my alarm went off. The little calendar in the corner of the clock's display informed me that today was September thirteenth. Only a dream, but prophetic enough in one way, at least. Today was my birthday. I was officially eighteen years old. I'd been dreading this day for months. All through the perfect summerthe happiest summer I had ever had, the happiest summer anyone anywhere had ever had, and the rainiest summer in the history of the Olympic Peninsulathis bleak date had lurked in ambush, waiting to spring. And now that it had hit, it was even worse than I'd feared it would be. I could feel itI was older. Every day I got older, but this was different, worse, quantifiable. I was eighteen. And Edward never would be. When I went to brush my teeth, I was almost surprised that the face in the mirror hadn't changed. I stared at myself, looking for some sign of impending wrinkles in my ivory skin. The only creases were the ones on my forehead, though, and I knew that if I could manage to relax, they would disappear. I couldn't. My eyebrows stayed lodged in a worried line over my anxious brown eyes. It was just a dream, I reminded myself again. Just a dream but also my worst nightmare. I skipped breakfast, in a hurry to get out of the house as quickly as possible. I wasn't entirely able to avoid my dad, and so I had to spend a few minutes acting cheerful. I honestly tried to be excited about the gifts I'd asked him not to get me, but every time I had to smile, it felt like I might start crying. I struggled to get a grip on myself as I drove to school. The vision of GranI would not think of it as mewas hard to get out of my head. I couldn't feel anything but despair until I pulled into the familiar parking lot behind Forks High School and spotted Edward leaning motionlessly against his polished silver Volvo, like a marble tribute to some forgotten pagan god of beauty. The dream had not done him justice. And he was waiting there for me, just the same as every other day. Despair momentarily vanished; wonder took its place. Even after half a year with him, I still couldn't believe that I deserved this degree of good fortune. His sister Alice was standing by his side, waiting for me, too. Of course Edward and Alice weren't really related (in Forks the story was that all the Cullen siblings were adopted by Dr. Carlisle Culler and his wife, Esme, both plainly too young to have teenage children), but their skin was precisely the same pale shade, their eyes had the same strange golden tint, with the same deep, bruise-like shadows beneath them. Her face, like his, was also startlingly beautiful. To someone in the knowsomeone like methese similarities marked them for what they were. The sight of Alice waiting thereher tawny eyes brilliant with excitement, and a small silver-wrapped square in her handsmade me frown. I'd told Alice I didn't want anything, anything, not gifts or even attention, for my birthday. Obviously, my wishes were being ignored. I slammed the door of my '53 Chevy trucka shower of rust specks fluttered down to the wet blacktopand walked slowly toward where they waited. Alice skipped forward to meet me, her pixie face glowing under her spiky black hair. â€Å"Happy birthday, Bella!† â€Å"Shh!† I hissed, glancing around the lot to make sure no one had heard her. The last thing I wanted was some kind of celebration of the black event. She ignored me. â€Å"Do you want to open your present now or later?† she asked eagerly as we made our way to where Edward still waited. â€Å"No presents,† I protested in a mumble. She finally seemed to process my mood. â€Å"Okay later, then. Did you like the scrapbook your mom sent you? And the camera from Charlie?† I sighed. Of course she would know what my birthday presents were. Edward wasn't the only member of his family with unusual skills. Alice would have â€Å"seen† what my parents were planning as soon as they'd decided that themselves. â€Å"Yeah. They're great.† â€Å"I think it's a nice idea. You're only a senior once. Might as well document the experience.† â€Å"How many times have you been a senior?† â€Å"That's different.† We reached Edward then, and he held out his hand for mine. I took it eagerly, forgetting, for a moment, my glum mood. His skin was, as always, smooth, hard, and very cold. He gave my fingers a gentle squeeze. I looked into his liquid topa2 eyes, and my heart gave a not-quite-so-gentle squeeze of its own. Hearing the stutter in my heartbeats, he smiled again. He lifted his free hand and traced one cool fingertip around the outside of my lips as he spoke. â€Å"So, as discussed, I am not allowed to wish you a happy birthday, is that correct?† â€Å"Yes. That is correct.† I could never quite mimic the flow of his perfect, formal articulation. It was something that could only be picked up in an earlier century. â€Å"Just checking.† He ran his hand through his tousled bronze hair. â€Å"You might have changed your mind. Most people seem to enjoy things like birthdays and gifts.† Alice laughed, and the sound was all silver, a wind chime. â€Å"Of course you'll enjoy it. Everyone is supposed to be nice to you today and give you your way, Bella. What's the worst that could happen?† She meant it as a rhetorical question. â€Å"Getting older,† I answered anyway, and my voice was not as steady as I wanted it to be. Beside me, Edward's smile tightened into a hard line. â€Å"Eighteen isn't very old,† Alice said. â€Å"Don't women usually wait till they're twenty-nine to get upset over birthdays?† â€Å"It's older than Edward,† I mumbled. He sighed. â€Å"Technically,† she said, keeping her tone light. â€Å"Just by one little year, though.† And I supposed if I could be sure of the future I wanted, sure that I would get to spend forever with Edward, and Alice and the rest of the Cullens (preferably not as a wrinkled little old lady) then a year or two one direction or the other wouldn't matter to me so much. But Edward was dead set against any future that changed me. Any future that made me like himthat made me immortal, too. An impasse, he called it. I couldn't really see Edward's point, to be honest. What was so great about mortality? Being a vampire didn't look like such a terrible thingnot the way the Cullens did it, anyway. â€Å"What time will you be at the house?† Alice continued, changing the subject. From her expression, she was up to exactly the kind of thing I'd been hoping to avoid. â€Å"I didn't know I had plans to be there.† â€Å"Oh, be fair, Bella!† she complained. â€Å"You aren't going to ruin all our fun like that, are you?† â€Å"I thought my birthday was about what I want.† â€Å"I'll get her from Charlie's right after school,† Edward told her, ignoring me altogether. â€Å"I have to work,† I protested. â€Å"You don't, actually,† Alice told me smugly. â€Å"I already spoke to Mrs. Newton about it. She's trading your shifts. She said to tell you ‘Happy Birthday.'† â€Å"II still can't come over,† I stammered, scrambling for an excuse. â€Å"I, well, I haven't watched Romeo and Juliet yet for English.† Alice snorted. â€Å"You have Romeo and Juliet memorized.† â€Å"But Mr. Berty said we needed to see it performed to fully appreciate itthat's how Shakespeare intended it to be presented.† Edward rolled his eyes. â€Å"You've already seen the movie,† Alice accused. â€Å"But not the nineteen-sixties version. Mr. Berty said it was the best.† Finally, Alice lost the smug smile and glared at me. â€Å"This can be easy, or this can be hard, Bella, but one way or the other† Edward interrupted her threat. â€Å"Relax, Alice. If Bella wants to watch a movie, then she can. It's her birthday.† â€Å"So there,† I added. â€Å"I'll bring her over around seven,† he continued. â€Å"That will give you more time to set up.† Alice's laughter chimed again. â€Å"Sounds good. See you tonight, Bella! It'll be fun, you'll see.† She grinnedthe wide smile exposed all her perfect, glistening teeththen pecked me on the cheek and danced off toward her first class before I could respond. â€Å"Edward, please† I started to beg, but he pressed one cool finger to my lips. â€Å"Let's discuss it later. We're going to be late for class.† No one bothered to stare at us as we took our usual seats in the back of the classroom (we had almost every class together nowit was amazing the favors Edward could get the female administrators to do for him). Edward and I had been together too long now to be an object of gossip anymore. Even Mike Newton didn't bother to give me the glum stare that used to make me feel a little guilty. He smiled now instead, and I was glad he seemed to have accepted that we could only be friends. Mike had changed over the summerhis face had lost some of the roundness, making his cheekbones more prominent, and he was wearing his pale blond hair a new way; instead of bristly, it was longer and gelled into a carefully casual disarray. It was easy to see where his inspiration came frombut Edward's look wasn't something that could be achieved through imitation. As the day progressed, I considered ways to get out of whatever was going down at the Cullen house tonight. It would be bad enough to have to celebrate when I was in the mood to mourn. But, worse than that, this was sure to involve attention and gifts. Attention is never a good thing, as any other accident-prone klutz would agree. No one wants a spotlight when they're likely to fall on their face. And I'd very pointedly askedwell, ordered reallythat no one give me any presents this year. It looked like Charlie and Renee weren't the only ones who had decided to overlook that. I'd never had much money, and that had never bothered me. Renee had raised me on a kindergarten teacher's salary. Charlie wasn't getting rich at his job, eitherhe was the police chief here in the tiny town of Forks. My only personal income came from the three days a week I worked at the local sporting goods store. In a town this small, I was lucky to have a job. Every penny I made went into my microscopic college fund. (College was Plan B. I was still hoping for Plan A, but Edward was just so stubborn about leaving me human) Edward had a lot of moneyI didn't even want to think about how much. Money meant next to nothing to Edward or the rest of the Cullens. It was just something that accumulated when you had unlimited time on your hands and a sister who had an uncanny ability to predict trends in the stock market. Edward didn't seem to understand why I objected to him spending money on mewhy it made me uncomfortable if he took me to an expensive restaurant in Seattle, why he wasn't allowed to buy me a car that could reach speeds over fifty-five miles an hour, or why I wouldn't let him pay my college tuition (he was ridiculously enthusiastic about Plan B). Edward thought I was being unnecessarily difficult. But how could I let him give me things when I had nothing to reciprocate with? He, for some unfathomable reason, wanted to be with me. Anything he gave me on top of that just threw us more out of balance. As the day went on, neither Edward nor Alice brought my birthday up again, and I began to relax a little. We sat at our usual table for lunch. A strange kind of truce existed at that table. The three of usEdward, Alice, and Isat on the extreme southern end of the table. Now that the â€Å"older† and somewhat scarier (in Emmett's case, certainly) Cullen siblings had graduated, Alice and Edward did not seem quite so intimidating, and we did not sit here alone. My other friends, Mike and Jessica (who were in the awkward post-breakup friendship phase), Angela and Ben (whose relationship had survived the summer), Eric, Conner, Tyler, and Lauren (though that last one didn't really count in the friend category) all sat at the same table, on the other side of an invisible line. That line dissolved on sunny days when Edward and Alice always skipped school, and then the conversation would swell out effortlessly to include me. Edward and Alice didn't find this minor ostracism odd or hurtful the way I would have. They barely noticed it. People always felt strangely ill at ease with the Cullens, almost afraid for some reason they couldn't explain to themselves. I was a rare exception to that rule. Sometimes it bothered Edward how very comfortable I was with being close to him. He thought he was hazardous to my healthan opinion I rejected vehemently whenever he voiced it. The afternoon passed quickly. School ended, and Edward walked me to my truck as he usually did. But this time, he held the passenger door open for me. Alice must have been taking his car home so that he could keep me from making a run for it. I folded my arms and made no move to get out of the rain. â€Å"It's my birthday, don't I get to drive?† â€Å"I'm pretending it's not your birthday, just as you wished.† â€Å"If it's not my birthday, then I don't have to go to your house tonight† â€Å"All right.† He shut the passenger door and walked past me to open the driver's side. â€Å"Happy birthday.† â€Å"Shh,† I shushed him halfheartedly. I climbed in the opened door, wishing he'd taken the other offer. Edward played with the radio while I drove, shaking his head in disapproval. â€Å"Your radio has horrible reception.† I frowned. I didn't like it when he picked on my truck. The truck was greatit had personality. â€Å"You want a nice stereo? Drive your own car.† I was so nervous about Alice's plans, on top of my already gloomy mood, that the words came out sharper than I'd meant them. I was hardly ever bad-tempered with Edward, and my tone made him press his lips together to keep from smiling. When I parked in front of Charlie's house, he reached over to take my face in his hands. He handled me very carefully, pressing just the tips of his fingers softly against my temples, my cheekbones, my jawline. Like I was especially breakable. Which was exactly the casecompared with him, at least. â€Å"You should be in a good mood, today of all days,† he whispered. His sweet breath fanned across my face. â€Å"And if I don't want to be in a good mood?† I asked, my breathing uneven. His golden eyes smoldered. â€Å"Too bad.† My head was already spinning by the time he leaned closer and pressed his icy lips against mine. As he intended, no doubt, I forgot all about my worries, and concentrated on remembering how to inhale and exhale. His mouth lingered on mine, cold and smooth and gentle, until I wrapped my arms around his neck and threw myself into the kiss with a little too much enthusiasm. I could feel his lips curve upward as he let go of my face and reached back to unlock my grip on him. Edward had drawn many careful lines for our physical relationship, with the intent being to keep me alive. Though I respected the need for maintaining a safe distance between my skin and his razor-sharp, venom-coated teeth, I tended to forget about trivial things like that when he was kissing me. â€Å"Be good, please,† he breathed against my cheek. He pressed his lips gently to mine one more time and then pulled away, folding my arms across my stomach. My pulse was thudding in my ears. I put one hand over my heart. It drummed hyperactively under my palm. â€Å"Do you think I'll ever get better at this?† I wondered, mostly to myself. â€Å"That my heart might someday stop trying to jump out of my chest whenever you touch me?† â€Å"I really hope not,† he said, a bit smug. I rolled my eyes. â€Å"Let's go watch the Capulets and Montagues hack each other up, all right?† â€Å"Your wish, my command.† Edward sprawled across the couch while I started the movie, fast-forwarding through the opening credits. When I perched on the edge of the sofa in front of him, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against his chest. It wasn't exactly as comfortable as a sofa cushion would be, what with his chest being hard and coldand perfectas an ice sculpture, but it was definitely preferable. He pulled the old afghan off the back of the couch and draped it over me so I wouldn't freeze beside his body. â€Å"You know, I've never had much patience with Romeo,† he commented as the movie started. â€Å"What's wrong with Romeo?† I asked, a little offended. Romeo was one of my favorite fictional characters. Until I'd met Edward, I'd sort of had a thing for him. â€Å"Well, first of all, he's in love with this Rosalinedon't you think it makes him seem a little fickle? And then, a few minutes after their wedding, he kills Juliet's cousin. That's not very brilliant. Mistake after mistake. Could he have destroyed his own happiness any more thoroughly?† I sighed. â€Å"Do you want me to watch this alone?† â€Å"No, I'll mostly be watching you, anyway.† His fingers traced patterns across the skin of my arm, raising goose bumps. â€Å"Will you cry?† â€Å"Probably,† I admitted, â€Å"if I'm paying attention.† â€Å"I won't distract you then.† But I felt his lips on my hair, and it was very distracting. The movie eventually captured my interest, thanks in large part to Edward whispering Romeo's lines in my earhis irresistible, velvet voice made the actor's voice sound weak and coarse by comparison. And I did cry, to his amusement, when Juliet woke and found her new husband dead. â€Å"I'll admit, I do sort of envy him here,† Edward said, drying the tears with a lock of my hair. â€Å"She's very pretty.† He made a disgusted sound. â€Å"I don't envy him the girljust the ease of the suicide,† he clarified in a teasing tone. â€Å"You humans have it so easy! All you have to do is throw down one tiny vial of plant extracts† â€Å"What?† I gasped. â€Å"It's something I had to think about once, and I knew from Carlisle's experience that it wouldn't be simple. I'm not even sure how many ways Carlisle tried to kill himself in the beginning after he realized what he'd become† His voice, which had grown serious, turned light again. â€Å"And he's clearly still in excellent health.† I twisted around so that I could read his face. â€Å"What are you talking about?† I demanded. â€Å"What do you mean, this something you had to think about once?† â€Å"Last spring, when you were nearly killed† He paused to take a deep breath, snuggling to return to his teasing tone. â€Å"Of course I was trying to focus on finding you alive, but part of my mind was making contingency plans. Like I said, it's not as easy for me as it is for a human.† For one second, the memory of my last trip to Phoenix washed through my head and made me feel dizzy. I could see it all so clearlythe blinding sun, the heat waves coming off the concrete as I ran with desperate haste to find the sadistic vampire who wanted to torture me to death. James, waiting in the mirrored room with my mother as his hostageor so I'd thought. I hadn't known it was all a ruse. Just as James hadn't known that Edward was racing to save me; Edward made it in time, but it had been a close one. Unthinkingly, my fingers traced the crescent-shaped scar on my hand that was always just a few degrees cooler than the rest of my skin. I shook my headas if I could shake away the bad memoriesand tried to grasp what Edward meant. My stomach plunged uncomfortably. â€Å"Contingency plans?† I repeated. â€Å"Well, I wasn't going to live without you.† He rolled his eyes as if that fact were childishly obvious. â€Å"But I wasn't sure how to do itI knew Emmett and Jasper would never help so I was thinking maybe I would go to Italy and do something to provoke the Volturi.† I didn't want to believe he was serious, but his golden eyes were brooding, focused on something far away in the distance as he contemplated ways to end his own life. Abruptly, I was furious. â€Å"What is a Volturi?† I demanded. â€Å"The Volturi are a family,† he explained, his eyes still remote. â€Å"A very old, very powerful family of our kind. They are the closest thing our world has to a royal family, I suppose. Carlisle lived with them briefly in his early years, in Italy, before he settled in Americado you remember the story?† â€Å"Of course I remember.† I would never forget the first time I'd gone to his home, the huge white mansion buried deep in the forest beside the river, or the room where CarlisleEdward's father in so many real wayskept a wall of paintings that illustrated his personal history. The most vivid, most wildly colorful canvas there, the largest, was from Carlisle's time in Italy. Of course I remembered the calm quartet of men, each with the exquisite face of a seraph, painted into the highest balcony overlooking the swirling mayhem of color. Though the painting was centuries old, Carlislethe blond angelremained unchanged. And I remembered the three others, Carlisle's early acquaintances. Edward had never used the name Volturi for the beautiful trio, two black-haired, one snow white. He'd called them Aro, Caius, and Marcus, nighttime patrons of the arts â€Å"Anyway, you don't irritate the Volturi,† Edward went on, interrupting ray reverie. â€Å"Not unless you want to dieor whatever it is we do.† His voice was so calm, it made him sound almost bored by the prospect. My anger turned to horror. I took his marble face between my hands and held it very tightly. â€Å"You must never, never, never think of anything like that again!† I said. â€Å"No matter what might ever happen to me, you are not allowed to hurt yourself!† â€Å"I'll never put you in danger again, so it's a moot point.† â€Å"Put me in danger! I thought we'd established that all the bad luck is my fault?† I was getting angrier. â€Å"How dare you even think like that?† The idea of Edward ceasing to exist, even if I were dead, was impossiblypainful. â€Å"What would you do, if the situation were reversed?† he asked. â€Å"That's not the same thing.† He didn't seem to understand the difference. He chuckled. â€Å"What if something did happen to you?† I blanched at the thought. â€Å"Would you want me to go off myself?† A trace of pain touched his perfect features. â€Å"I guess I see your point a little,† he admitted. â€Å"But what would I do without you?† â€Å"Whatever you were doing before I came along and complicated your existence.† He sighed. â€Å"You make that sound so easy.† â€Å"It should be. I'm not really that interesting.† He was about to argue, but then he let it go. â€Å"Moot point,† he reminded me. Abruptly, he pulled himself up into a more formal posture, shifting me to the side so that we were no longer touching. â€Å"Charlie?† I guessed. Edward smiled. After a moment, I heard the sound of the police cruiser pulling into the driveway. I reached out and took his hand firmly. My dad could deal with that much. Charlie came in with a pizza box in his hands. â€Å"Hey, kids.† He grinned at me. â€Å"I thought you'd like a break from cooking and washing dishes for your birthday. Hungry?† â€Å"Sure. Thanks, Dad.† Charlie didn't comment on Edward's apparent lack of appetite. He was used to Edward passing on dinner. â€Å"Do you mind if I borrow Bella for the evening?† Edward asked when Charlie and I were done. I looked at Charlie hopefully. Maybe he had some concept of birthdays as stay-at-home, family affairsthis was my first birthday with him, the first birthday since my mom, Renee, had remarried and gone to live in Florida, so I didn't know what he would expect. â€Å"That's finethe Mariners are playing the Sox tonight,† Charlie explained, and my hope disappeared. â€Å"So I won't be any kind of company Here.† He scooped up the camera he'd gotten me on Renee's suggestion (because I would need pictures to fill up my scrap-book), and threw it to me. He ought to know better than thatI'd always been coordinationally challenged. The camera glanced off the tip of my finger, and tumbled toward the floor. Edward snagged it before it could crash onto the linoleum. â€Å"Nice save,† Charlie noted. â€Å"If they're doing something fun at the Cullens' tonight, Bella, you should take some pictures. You know how your mother getsshe'll be wanting to see the pictures faster than you can take them.† â€Å"Good idea, Charlie,† Edward said, handing me the camera. I turned the camera on Edward, and snapped the first picture. â€Å"It works.† â€Å"That's good. Hey, say hi to Alice for me. She hasn't been over in a while.† Charlie's mouth pulled down at one corner. â€Å"It's been three days, Dad,† I reminded him. Charlie was crazy about Alice. He'd become attached last spring when she'd helped me through my awkward convalescence; Charlie would be fore'ter grateful to her for saving him from the horror of an almost-adult daughter who needed help showering. â€Å"I'll tell her.† â€Å"Okay. You kids have fun tonight.† It was clearly a dismissal. Charlie was already edging toward the living room and the TV. Edward smiled, triumphant, and took my hand to pull me from the kitchen. When we got to the truck, he opened the passenger door for me again, and this time I didn't argue. I still had a hard time finding the obscure turnoff to his house in the dark. Edward drove north through Forks, visibly chafing at the speed limit enforced by my prehistoric Chevy. The engine groaned even louder than usual as he pushed it over fifty. â€Å"Take it easy,† I warned him. â€Å"You know what you would love? A nice little Audi coupe. Very quiet, lots of power† â€Å"There's nothing wrong with my truck. And speaking of expensive nonessentials, if you know what's good for you, you didn't spend any money on birthday presents.† â€Å"Not a dime,† he said virtuously. â€Å"Good.† â€Å"Can you do me a favor?† â€Å"That depends on what it is.† He sighed, his lovely face serious. â€Å"Bella, the last real birthday any of us had was Emmett in 1935. Cut us a little slack, and don't be too difficult tonight. They're all very excited.† It always startled me a little when he brought up things like that. â€Å"Fine, I'll behave.† â€Å"I probably should warn you† â€Å"Please do.† â€Å"When I say they're all excited I do mean all of them.† â€Å"Everyone?† I choked. â€Å"I thought Emmett and Rosalie were in Africa.† The rest of Forks was under the impression that the older Cullens had gone off to college this year, to Dartmouth, but I knew better. â€Å"Emmett wanted to be here.† â€Å"But Rosalie?† â€Å"I know, Bella. Don't worry, she'll be on her best behavior.† I didn't answer. Like I could just not worry, that easy. Unlike Alice, Edward's other â€Å"adopted† sister, the golden blond and exquisite Rosalie, didn't like me much. Actually, the feeling was a little bit stronger than just dislike. As far as Rosalie was concerned, I was an unwelcome intruder into her family's secret life. I felt horribly guilty about the present situation, guessing that Rosalie and Emmett's prolonged absence was my fault, even as I furtively enjoyed not having to see her Emmett, Edward's playful bear of a brother, I did miss. He was in many ways just like the big brother I'd always wanted only much, much more terrifying. Edward decided to change the subject. â€Å"So, if you won't let me get you the Audi, isn't there anything that you'd like for your birthday?† The words came out in a whisper. â€Å"You know what I want.† A deep frown carved creases into his marble forehead. He obviously wished he'd stuck to the subject of Rosalie. It felt like we'd had this argument a lot today. â€Å"Not tonight, Bella. Please.† â€Å"Well, maybe Alice will give me what I want.† Edward growleda deep, menacing sound. â€Å"This isn't going to be your last birthday, Bella,† he vowed. â€Å"That's not fair!† I thought I heard his teeth clench together. We were pulling up to the house now. Bright light shined from every window on the first two floors. A long line of glowing Japanese lanterns hung from the porch eaves, reflecting a soft radiance on the huge cedars that surrounded the house. Big bowls of flowerspink roseslined the wide stairs up to the front doors. I moaned. Edward took a few deep breaths to calm himself. â€Å"This is a party,† he reminded me. â€Å"Try to be a good sport.† â€Å"Sure,† I muttered. He came around to get my door, and offered me his hand. â€Å"I have a question.† He waited warily. â€Å"If I develop this film,† I said, toying with the camera in my hands, â€Å"will you show up in the picture?† Edward started laughing. He helped me out of the car, pulled me up the stairs, and was still laughing as he opened the door for me. They were all waiting in the huge white living room; when I walked through the door, they greeted me with a loud chorus of â€Å"Happy birthday, Bella!† while I blushed and looked down. Alice, I assumed, had covered every flat surface with pink candles and dozens of crystal bowls filled with hundreds of roses. There was a table with a white cloth draped over it next to Edward's grand piano, holding a pink birthday cake, more roses, a stack of glass plates, and a small pile of silver-wrapped presents. It was a hundred times worse than I'd imagined. Edward, sensing my distress, wrapped an encouraging arm around my waist and kissed the top of my head. Edward's parents, Carlisle and Esmeimpossibly youthful and lovely as everwere the closest to the door. Esme hugged me carefully, her soft, caramel-colored hair brushing against my cheek as she kissed my forehead, and then Carlisle put his arm around my shoulders. â€Å"Sorry about this, Bella,† he stage-whispered. â€Å"We couldn't rein Alice in.† Rosalie and Emmett stood behind them. Rosalie didn't smile, but at least she didn't glare. Emmett's face was stretched into a huge grin. It had been months since I'd seen them; I'd forgotten how gloriously beautiful Rosalie wasit almost hurt to look at her. And had Emmett always been so big? â€Å"You haven't changed at all,† Emmett said with mock disappointment. â€Å"I expected a perceptible difference, but here you are, red-faced just like always.† â€Å"Thanks a lot, Emmett,† I said, blushing deeper. He laughed, â€Å"I have to step out for a second†he paused to wink conspicuously at Alice†Don't do anything funny while I'm gone.† â€Å"I'lltry.† Alice let go of Jasper's hand and skipped forward, all her teeth sparkling in the bright light. Jasper smiled, too, but kept his distance. He leaned, long and blond, against the post at the foot of the stairs. During the days we'd had to spend cooped up together in Phoenix, I'd thought he'd gotten over his aversion to me. But he'd gone back to exactly how he'd acted beforeavoiding me as much as possiblethe moment he was free from that temporary obligation to protect me. I knew it wasn't personal, just a precaution, and I tried not to be overly sensitive about it. Jasper had more trouble sticking to the Cullens' diet than the rest of them; the scent of human blood was much harder for him to resist than the othershe hadn't been trying as long. â€Å"Time to open presents,† Alice declared. She put her cool hand under my elbow and towed me to the table with the cake and the shiny packages. I put on my best martyr face. â€Å"Alice, I know I told you I didn't want anything† â€Å"But I didn't listen,† she interrupted, smug. â€Å"Open it.† She took the camera from my hands and replaced it with a big, square silver box. The box was so light that it felt empty. The tag on top said that it was from Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper. Selfconsciously, I tore the paper off and then stared at the box it concealed. It was something electrical, with lots of numbers in the name. I opened the box, hoping for further illumination. But the box was empty. â€Å"Um thanks.† Rosalie actually cracked a smile. Jasper laughed. â€Å"It's a stereo for your truck,† he explained. â€Å"Emmett's installing it right now so that you can't return it.† Alice was always one step ahead of me. â€Å"Thanks, Jasper, Rosalie,† I told them, grinning as I remembered Edward's complaints about my radio this afternoonall a setup, apparently. â€Å"Thanks, Emmett!† I called more loudly. I heard his booming laugh from my truck, and I couldn't help laughing, too. â€Å"Open mine and Edward's next,† Alice said, so excited her voice was a high-pitched trill. She held a small, flat square in her hand. I turned to give Edward a basilisk glare. â€Å"You promised.† Before he could answer, Emmett bounded through the door. â€Å"Just in time!† he crowed. He pushed in behind Jasper, who had also drifted closer than usual to get a good look. â€Å"I didn't spend a dime,† Edward assured me. He brushed a strand of hair from my face, leaving my skin tingling from his touch. I inhaled deeply and turned to Alice. â€Å"Give it to me,† I sighed. Emmett chuckled with delight. I took the little package, rolling my eyes at Edward while I stuck my finger under the edge of the paper and jerked it under the tape. â€Å"Shoot,† I muttered when the paper sliced my finger; I pulled it out to examine the damage. A single drop of blood oozed from the tiny cut. It all happened very quickly then. â€Å"No!† Edward roared. He threw himself at me, flinging me back across the table. It fell, as I did, scattering the cake and the presents, the flowers and the plates. I landed in the mess of shattered crystal. Jasper slammed into Edward, and the sound was like the crash of boulders in a rock slide. There was another noise, a grisly snarling that seemed to be coming from deep in Jasper's chest. Jasper tried to shove past Edward, snapping his teeth just inches from Edward's face. Emmett grabbed Jasper from behind in the next second, locking him into his massive steel grip, but Jasper struggled on, his wild, empty eyes focused only on me. Beyond the shock, there was also pain. I'd tumbled down to the floor by the piano, with my arms thrown out instinctively to catch my fall, into the jagged shards of glass. Only now did I feel the searing, stinging pain that ran from my wrist to the crease inside my elbow. Dazed and disoriented, I looked up from the bright red blood pulsing out of my arminto the fevered eyes of the six suddenly ravenous vampires.

Blood Promise Chapter Nine

â€Å"I thought you were a dream,† I said. They all remained standing, the dhampirs fanning out around the Moroi in a sort of protective formation. Abe's was the strange face I'd seen while I'd been going in and out of consciousness after the fight by the barn. He was older than me, close to Olena's age. He had black hair and a goatee, and about as tan a complexion as Moroi ever had. If you've ever seen tan or dark-skinned people who are sick and grow pale, it's a lot like that. There was some pigment in his skin, but it was underscored by an intense pallor. Most astonishing of all was his clothing. He wore a long dark coat that screamed money, paired with a cashmere crimson scarf. Below it, I could see a bit of gold, a chain to match the gold hoop earring he wore in one of his ears. My initial impression of that flamboyance would have been pirate or pimp. A moment later, I changed my mind. Something about him said he was the kind of guy who broke kneecaps to get his way. â€Å"Dream, eh? That,† the Moroi said, with the very slightest hint of a smile, â€Å"is not something I hear very often. Well, no.† He reconsidered. â€Å"I do occasionally show up in people's nightmares.† He was neither American nor Russian; I couldn't identify the accent. Was he trying to impress me or intimidate me with his big, bad reputation? Sydney hadn't been afraid of him, exactly, but she'd certainly possessed a healthy amount of wariness. â€Å"Well, I assume you already know who I am,† I said. â€Å"So, the question now is, what are you doing here?† â€Å"No,† he said, the smile turning harder. â€Å"The question is, what are you doing here?† I gestured back to the house, trying to play it cool. â€Å"I'm going to a funeral.† â€Å"That's not why you came to Russia.† â€Å"I came to Russia to tell the Belikovs that Dimitri was dead, seeing as no one else bothered to.† That was turning into a handy explanation for me being here, but as Abe studied me, a chill ran down my spine, kind of like when Yeva looked at me. Like that crazy old woman, he didn't believe me, and again I felt the dangerous edge to his otherwise jovial personality. Abe shook his head, and now the smile was gone altogether. â€Å"That's not the reason either. Don't lie to me, little girl.† I felt my hackles going up. â€Å"And don't interrogate me, old man. Not unless you're ready to tell me why you and your sidekicks risked driving that road to pick up Sydney and me.† Abe's dhampirs stiffened at the words old man, but to my surprise, he actually smiled again-though the smile didn't reach his eyes. â€Å"Maybe I was just helping out.† â€Å"Not from what I hear. You're the one who had the Alchemists send Sydney with me here.† â€Å"Oh?† He arched an eyebrow. â€Å"Did she tell you that? Mmm†¦ that was bad behavior on her part. Her superiors aren't going to like that. Not at all.† Oh, damn. I'd spoken without thinking. I didn't want Sydney to get in trouble. If Abe really was some kind of Moroi Godfather type-what had she called him? Zmey? The snake?-I didn't doubt he could talk to other Alchemists to make her life even more miserable. â€Å"I forced it out of her,† I lied. â€Å"I†¦ I threatened her on the train. It wasn't hard. She's already scared to death of me.† â€Å"I don't doubt she is. They're all scared of us, bound by centuries of tradition and hiding behind their crosses to protect them-despite the gifts they get from their tattoos. In a lot of ways, they get the same traits as you dhampirs-just no reproductive issues.† He gazed up at the stars as he spoke, like some sort of philosopher musing on the mysteries of the universe. Somehow, that made me angrier. He was treating this like a joke, when clearly he had some agenda regarding me. I didn't like being part of anyone's plans-particularly when I didn't know what those plans were. â€Å"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure we could talk about the Alchemists and how you control them all night,† I snapped. â€Å"But I still want to know what you want with me.† â€Å"Nothing,† he said simply. â€Å"Nothing? You've gone to a lot of trouble to set me up with Sydney and follow me here for nothing.† He looked back down from the sky, and there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. â€Å"You're of no interest to me. I have my own business to run. I come on behalf of others who are interested in you.† I stiffened, and at last, true fear ran through me. Shit. There was a manhunt out for me. But who? Lissa? Adrian? Tatiana? Again, that last one made me nervous. The others would seek me out because they cared. But Tatiana†¦ Tatiana feared I'd run off with Adrian. Once more I thought that if she wanted me found, it might be because she wanted to ensure I didn't come back. Abe struck me as the kind of person who could make people disappear. â€Å"And what do the others want? Do they want me home?† I asked, trying to appear unafraid. â€Å"Did you think you could just come here and drag me back to the U.S.?† That secretive smile of Abe's returned. â€Å"Do you think I could just drag you back?† â€Å"Well,† I scoffed, again without thinking, â€Å"you couldn't. Your guys here could. Well, maybe. I might be able to take them.† Abe laughed out loud for the first time, a rich, deep sound filled with sincere amusement. â€Å"You live up to your brash reputation. Delightful.† Great. Abe probably had a whole file on me somewhere. He probably knew what I liked for breakfast. â€Å"I'll make a trade with you. Tell me why you're here, and I'll tell you why I'm here.† â€Å"I already told you.† In a flash, the laughter was gone. He took a step closer to where I sat, and I saw his guardians tense. â€Å"And I told you not to lie to me. You've got a reason for being here. I need to know what it is.† â€Å"Rose? Can you come in here?† Back toward the Belikov house, Viktoria's clear voice rang out in the night. Glancing behind me, I saw her standing in the doorway. Suddenly, I wanted to get away from Abe. There was something lethal underneath that gaudy, jovial facade, and I didn't want to spend another minute with him. Leaping up, I began backing toward the house, half-expecting his guardians to come kidnap me, despite his words. The two guys stayed where they were, but their eyes watched me carefully. Abe's quirky smile returned to his face. â€Å"Sorry I can't stay and chat,† I said. â€Å"That's all right,† he said grandly. â€Å"We'll find time later.† â€Å"Not likely,† I said. He laughed, and I hastily followed Viktoria into the house, not feeling safe until I shut the door. â€Å"I do not like that guy.† â€Å"Abe?† she asked. â€Å"I thought he was your friend.† â€Å"Hardly. He's some kind of mobster, right?† â€Å"I suppose,† she said, like it was no big deal. â€Å"But he's the reason you're here.† â€Å"Yeah, I know about him coming to get us.† Viktoria shook her head. â€Å"No, I mean here. I guess while you were in the car, you kept saying, ? ®Belikov, Belikov.' Abe figured you knew us. That's why he took you to our house.† That was startling. I'd been dreaming of Dimitri, so of course I would have said his last name. But I'd had no idea that was how I'd ended up here. I'd figured it was because Olena had medical training. Then Viktoria added the most astonishing thing of all. â€Å"When he realized we didn't know you, he was going to take you somewhere else-but grandmother said we had to keep you. I guess she'd had some dream that you'd come to us.† â€Å"What?† Crazy, creepy Yeva who hated me? â€Å"Yeva dreamed about me?† Viktoria nodded. â€Å"It's this gift she has. Are you sure you don't know Abe? He's too big-time to be here without a reason.† Olena hurried over to us before I could respond. She caught hold of my arm. â€Å"We've been looking for you. What took so long?† This question was directed to Viktoria. â€Å"Abe was-â€Å" Olena shook her head. â€Å"Never mind. Come on. Everyone's waiting.† â€Å"For what?† I asked, letting her drag me through the house to the backyard. â€Å"I was supposed to tell you,† explained Viktoria, scurrying along. â€Å"This is the part where everyone sits and remembers Dimitri by telling stories.† â€Å"Nobody's seen him in so long; we don't know what's happened to him recently,† said Olena. â€Å"We need you to tell us.† I flinched. Me? I balked at that, particularly when we emerged outside and I saw all those faces around the campfire. I didn't know any of them. How could I talk about Dimitri? How could I reveal what was closest to my heart? Everyone seemed to blur together, and I thought I might faint. For the moment, none of them noticed me. Karolina was speaking, her baby in her arms. Every so often she'd pause, and the others would laugh. Viktoria sat down on a blanket-covered spot on the ground and pulled me down beside her. Sydney joined us a little while later. â€Å"What's she saying?† I whispered. Viktoria listened to her sister for a few moments and then leaned closer to me. â€Å"She's talking about when Dimitri was very young, how he used to always beg her and her friends to let him play with them. He was about six and they were eight and didn't want him around.† Viktoria paused again to take in the next part of the story. â€Å"Finally, Karolina told him he could if he agreed to be married off to their dolls. So Karolina and her friends dressed him and the dolls up over and over and kept having weddings. Dimitri was married at least ten times.† I couldn't help but laugh as I tried to picture tough, sexy Dimitri letting his big sister dress him up. He probably would have treated his wedding ceremony with a doll as seriously and stoically as he did his guardian duties. Other people spoke, and I tried to keep up with the translations. All the stories were about Dimitri's kindness and strength of character. Even when not out battling the undead, Dimitri had always been there to help those who needed it. Almost everyone could recall sometime that Dimitri had stepped up to help others, going out of his way to do what was right, even in situations that could put him at risk. That was no surprise to me. Dimitri always did the right thing. And it was that attitude that had made me love him so much. I had a similar nature. I too rushed in when others needed me, sometimes when I shouldn't have. Others called me crazy for it, but Dimitri had understood. He'd always understood me, and part of what we'd worked on was how to temper that impulsive need to run into danger with reason and calculation. I had a feeling no one else in this world would ever understand me like he did. I didn't notice how strongly the tears were running down my cheeks until I saw everyone looking at me. At first, I thought they considered me crazy for crying, but then I realized someone had asked me a question. â€Å"They want you to talk about Dimitri's last days,† Viktoria said. â€Å"Tell us something. What he did. What he was like.† I used my sleeve to clean my face and looked away, focusing on the bonfire. I'd spoken in front of others before without hesitation, but this was different. â€Å"I†¦ I can't,† I told Viktoria, my voice strained and soft. â€Å"I can't talk about him.† She squeezed my hand. â€Å"Please. They need to hear about him. They need to know. Just tell us anything. What was he like?† â€Å"He†¦ he was your brother. You know.† â€Å"Yes,† she said gently. â€Å"But we want to know what you think he was like.† My eyes were still on the fire, watching the way the flames danced and shifted from orange to blue. â€Å"He†¦ he was the best man I've ever met.† I stopped to gather myself, and Viktoria used the opportunity to translate my words into Russian. â€Å"And he was one of the best guardians. I mean, he was young compared to a lot of them, but everyone knew who he was. They all knew his reputation, and lots of people relied on him for advice. They called him a god. And whenever there was a fight†¦ or danger†¦ he was always the first one to put himself out there. He never flinched. And a couple months ago, when our school was attacked†¦Ã¢â‚¬  I choked up here a bit. The Belikovs had said they knew of the attack-that everyone knew about it-and from the faces here, it was true. I didn't need to elaborate on that night, on the horrors I'd seen. â€Å"That night,† I continued, â€Å"Dimitri rushed out to face the Strigoi. He and I were together when we realized they were attacking. I wanted to stay and help him, but he wouldn't let me. He just told me to go, to run off and alert others. And he stayed behind-not knowing how many Strigoi he'd have to take on while I went for help. I still don't know how many he fought-but there were a bunch. And he took them all down alone.† I dared to look up at the faces around me. Everyone was so quiet and still that I wondered if they were breathing. â€Å"It was so hard,† I told them. Without realizing it, my voice had dropped to a whisper. I had to repeat myself more loudly. â€Å"It was so hard. I didn't want to leave him, but I knew I had to. He taught me so much, but one of the biggest things was that we have to protect others. It was my duty to warn everyone else, even though I just wanted to stay with him. The whole time, my heart kept saying, ? ®Turn around, turn around. Go to him!' But I knew what I had to do and I also knew part of him was trying to keep me safe. And if the roles had been reversed†¦ well, I would have made him run too.† I sighed, surprised I'd revealed so much of my heart. I switched back to business. â€Å"Even when the other guardians joined him, Dimitri never backed down. He took down more Strigoi than almost anyone.† Christian and I had actually killed the most. â€Å"He†¦ he was amazing.† I told them the rest of the story that I'd told the Belikovs. Only I actually forced a little detail this time, telling them vividly just how brave and fierce he had been. The words hurt me as I spoke, and yet†¦ it was almost a relief to get them out. I'd kept the memories of that night too close to me. But eventually, I had to tell them about the cave. And that†¦ that was the worst. â€Å"We'd trapped the escaping Strigoi in a cave. It had two entrances, and we came at them from both sides. Some of our people got trapped, though, and there were more Strigoi than we'd expected. We lost people†¦ but we would have lost a lot more if Dimitri hadn't been there. He wouldn't leave until everyone was out. He didn't care about the risk to himself. He only knew he had to save others†¦Ã¢â‚¬  I'd seen it in his eyes, that determination. Our plan had finally been to retreat as soon as we were all out, but I'd had the feeling he would have stayed and killed every Strigoi he could find. But he'd followed orders too, finally beginning his retreat when the others were safe. And in those last moments, just before the Strigoi had bitten him, Dimitri had met my eyes with a look so full of love that it was like that whole cave filled with light. His expression had said what we'd talked about earlier: We can be together, Rose. Soon. We're almost there. And nothing will ever keep us apart again†¦ I didn't mention that part, though. When I finished the rest of the tale, the faces of those gathered were grim but filled with awe and respect. Near the back of the crowd, I noticed Abe and his guardians listening as well. His expression was unreadable. Hard, but not angry or scary. Small cups began circulating through the group, and someone handed me one. A dhampir I didn't know, one of the few men present, stood up and raised his cup in the air. He spoke loudly and reverently, and I heard Dimitri's name mentioned several times. When he finished, he drank from the cup. Everyone else did too, so I followed suit. And nearly choked to death. It was like fire in liquid form. It took every ounce of strength I had to swallow it and not spray it on those around me. â€Å"Wh†¦ what is this?† I asked, coughing. Viktoria grinned. â€Å"Vodka.† I peered at the glass. â€Å"No, it isn't. I've had vodka before.† â€Å"Not Russian vodka.† Apparently not. I forced the rest of the cup down out of respect to Dimitri, even though I had a feeling that if he were here, he'd be shaking his head at me. I thought I was done being in the spotlight after my story, but apparently not. Everyone kept asking me questions. They wanted to know more about Dimitri, more about what his life had been like recently. They also wanted to know about me and Dimitri as a couple. They all seemed to have figured out that Dimitri and I had been in love-and they were okay with it. I was asked about how we'd met, how long we'd been together†¦ And the whole time, people kept refilling my cup. Determined not to look like an idiot again, I kept drinking until I could finally take the vodka down without coughing or spitting. The more I drank, the louder and more animated my stories became. My limbs started to tingle, and part of me knew this was all probably a bad idea. Okay, all of me knew it. Finally, people began to clear out. I had no idea what time it was, but I think it was the middle of the night. Maybe later. I stood as well, finding it much harder to do than I'd expected. The world wobbled, and my stomach wasn't very happy with me. Someone caught a hold of my arm and steadied me. â€Å"Easy,† said Sydney. â€Å"Don't push it.† Slowly, carefully, she led me toward the house. â€Å"God,† I moaned. â€Å"Do they use that stuff as rocket fuel?† â€Å"No one made you keep drinking it.† â€Å"Hey, don't get preachy. Besides, I had to be polite.† â€Å"Sure,† she said. We made it inside and then had the impossible task of getting up the stairs to the room Olena had given me. Each step was agony. â€Å"They all knew about me and Dimitri,† I said, wondering if I'd be saying any of this sober. â€Å"But I never told them we were together.† â€Å"You didn't have to. It's written all over your face.† â€Å"They acted like I was his widow or something.† â€Å"You might as well be.† We reached my room, and she helped me sit down on the bed. â€Å"Not a lot of people get married around here. If you're with someone long enough, they figure it's almost the same.† I sighed and stared off without any particular focus. â€Å"I miss him so much.† â€Å"I'm sorry,† she said. â€Å"Will it ever get better?† The question seemed to catch her by surprise. â€Å"I†¦ I don't know.† â€Å"Have you ever been in love?† She shook her head. â€Å"No.† I wasn't sure if that made her lucky or not. I wasn't sure if all the bright days I'd had with Dimitri were worth the hurt I felt now. A moment later, I knew the truth. â€Å"Of course they were.† â€Å"Huh?† asked Sydney. I realized I'd spoken my thoughts out loud. â€Å"Nothing. Just talking to myself. I should get some sleep.† â€Å"Do you need anything else? Are you going to be sick?† I assessed my queasy stomach. â€Å"No, but thanks.† â€Å"Okay.† And in her typically brusque way, she left, turning off the lights and shutting the door. I would have thought I'd pass out right away. Honestly, I wanted to. My heart had been opened up to too much of Dimitri tonight, and I wanted that pain to go away. I wanted blackness and oblivion. Instead, maybe because I was a glutton for punishment, my heart decided to finish the job and rip itself completely open. I went to visit Lissa.