They didn't know I was watching.

I stood outside in the shadow of a massive oak tree outside the dormitory, pretending I was able to hear the even breathing of the sleeping girls inside. My targets. I'd already been standing here for an hour, just waiting, calculating, compiling data on my surroundings. And then I heard the screams.

I wasn't allowed to do anything. It was part of my orders, not to interfere until I was sure I could bring the Princess home. I had to trust that her novice friend could take care of her, though I had consolation in the fact that I knew it couldn't be a strigoi. I had guardians posted at every entryway to the building, and another at each corner of the block. Vasilisa Dragomir had nothing to worry about. Well, except for me.

Then I heard a voice: Rosemarie Hathaway, I assumed. "Liss," she said. "Liss, wake up."

The screams stopped then and were replaced by a barely audible whimpering. Another voice muttered something then, but I couldn't make it out, even with my dhampir hearing.

Dhampir. That's what I am. Half-vampire, half-human, six foot seven and intimidating as hell, at least if the reactions I get for first impressions are anything to go by. I had the longevity, amazing senses, reflexes and healing abilities of a Moroi (I'll get into that later), and the endurance and look of a human. We have the best of both worlds. Essentially, we make the perfect bodyguards, which is why that's what most of us do.

Moroi, like the Princess, are living vampires. They're pale, tall and skinny, a type of skinny no human could achieve and still look as beautiful as Moroi do. They drink blood to survive, but they don't kill the person like a strigoi would. They also have elemental magic; they can control either fire, water, earth or air. And they're hunted down by strigoi, which is what makes my job so essential.

Strigoi are undead vampires, and they are the most unnatural thing in the world. They drain their victims of blood until they're dead, and they don't have emotions. They're immortal, or at least if we don't get around to killing them. They don't age, and they have deathly pale skin. Not like Moroi, who still have some pigment. Strigoi are white. And how do they get as strong as they are? By drinking Moroi blood.

That's why Moroi children usually live in academies like the one these girls ran away from. Academies are far from human culture so as not to be discovered, and are protected by magical wards to keep out strigoi. Novices — dhampirs in training to become full-fledged guardians — also attend academies to learn how to keep Moroi safe once they graduate and are turned out of the protection of the schools.

Most dhampirs become guardians, and guardians protect Moroi from strigoi at all costs. That's what I am. Or, at least, that's what I was, before my charge was killed and I was sent to St. Vladimir's Academy, and sent on this rescue mission.

"Liss, you aren't there anymore. Wake up," I heard the Hathaway girl say.

There was a pause where I assumed the Princess was waking up, then I heard Rosemarie say softly, "It's okay. Everything's okay."

I could imagine her running a hand over the Princess's hair, calming her down.

"I had that dream," I heard Vasilisa murmur.

"Yeah, I know," her friend replied.

There was a long pause without either of them saying anything, and then the light flicked on. I blinked against the onslaught of brightness, squinting. I'd been standing in the dark for so long that even that little bit of light hurt my eyes.

When my eyes finally adjusted, I saw that I had been right. The dark-haired dhampir held the Princess close. I noted that there was a cat in the room as well, which might not be entirely a good thing. Animals aren't so fond of dhampirs, and if he noticed me too soon, my carefully laid out plan was shot. Fortunately he seemed content hanging around the Princess for now.

She scratched his chin, and I was smiling when I heard the next, shocking set of words.

"When did we last do a feeding?"

I worked hard not to show my shock. It wasn't like it was really news to me or anything. We'd suspected all along that's what they'd been doing. They wouldn't have been able to stay off our radar if they had been going to Moroi bars and using feeders, nor if they had been using normal humans. But having it confirmed was a whole different thing.

As I watched, Rosemarie studied Vasilisa. "It's been like . . . more than two days, hasn't it? Three? Why didn't you say anything?"

Even from here I could see that the Princess was a little worse for wear. I don't know what it was, since I couldn't make out any details from this distance. It was almost like she had an aura of frailty around her.

Vasilisa looked away from Rosemarie and said, "You were busy. I didn't want to —"

Hathaway cut her off. "Screw that." She shifted on the bed, moving closer to her friend. The cat jumped away, moving to sit at the window. I tensed, hoping he didn't see me. For the moment, he didn't, and I turned my attention back to the girls. "Come on," the novice said. "Let's do this."

"Rose —" Vasilisa protested. She was cut off again.

"Come on. It'll make you feel better."

Rosemarie — or, Rose, I guess — bared her neck to the Moroi. The Princess hesitated for only a second before slowly lowering her mouth to Rose's neck.

As Vasilisa's fangs sank into Rose's neck, I heard the dhampir cry out before a look of blissful ecstacy fell over her. I shivered automatically. In our culture, letting someone drink your blood was taboo. A dhampir who gave their blood to a Moroi during sex was known as a blood whore, and was considered the dirtiest of the dirty.

Of course, it wasn't like the two of them were having sex. This was purely for survival. I had to admit, deep down, under the disgust that filled me, I felt a smidgen of pride that Rosemarie would go to such great lengths to keep her friend alive.

They were done in less than a minute.

Vasilisa pulled back and wiped her mouth. "You okay?"

"I . . . yeah," Rosemarie said as she lay back on the bed. "I just need to sleep it off. I'm fine."

Personally, I doubted it, but it would help when I had to capture them, so I was okay with it. At least for now. As long as it didn't keep happening when we got back to the academy. Then again, I'd still probably be able to force them to come with me, but it's never good to underestimate your opponent.

The Princess stood up. "I'm going to get you something to eat," she declared and left.

I tensed again when the cat looked out the window and right at me. I hadn't realized I'd ever relaxed, if just a little bit. I tensed even further when the Hathaway girl turned her head and looked at the black cat.

"You don't know what you're missing," she said to it, and I wondered just how long a Moroi bite lasts if she was talking to a cat. Of course, that was assuming she was still high and not just a little crazy.

I glared at the cat when Rose sat up, staring at the cat. I was sure she was questioning why the cat looked so furious.

As a natural defense, animals don't like dhampirs. I don't really know why, all I know is that in times like this it was both helpful and annoying. Helpful because I did want her to see me eventually. Annoying because I didn't necessarily want her to see me yet.

The girl swayed as she sat up, and waited a moment before standing up and moving to stand next to the cat and look out the window. The furry feline scooted over a little so there was some space between the two of them, but ultimately decided he was more interested in me than in her.

She stuck her head out the open window, and the breeze played with her long dark hair. Hair I could see now, backlit as it was with the light from the lamp, that was beautiful and thick, such a dark brown that it almost looked black when she cocked her head.

I was able to tell the exact moment that she first saw me, because she jerked back into the room, backing up two steps unconsciously. I watched her for a moment more, allowing her to take in my height and feel intimidated, and also to make sure that she was actually going to run.

Then I stepped back into the shadows, and Johnathon — one of the other guardians with me — came up to me.

"The street's clear. No one will see when we take them. Should I tell José to head inside and eavesdrop outside their room?"

I nodded, backing up farther. "Flick on your earpiece," I told him, speaking low and deep. My Russian accent came through more when I did that.

He did as I told, and I turned my own on. The crackling feedback made me flinch, but I turned and started loping down the street.

"They're heading to a car parked down the street, at the corner of Brown," I heard over the earpiece. I flinched again at the sudden noise, but at least I knew where I was going now. My plan was to wait at their destination and ambush them.

I sighed in relief when I saw it: a green Honda. I waited across the street, in the shadow of another tree.

"Alright, guys," I said, low and fast, to the nine other guardians who'd come with me on this mission. "Follow them. I want two flanking on their exposed left side, to ensure they can't veer off course."

"You got it, Guardian Belikov," Johnathon replied.

I liked him. He was a good guardian, and I'd given him the task of being my second-in-command.

Through the intercoms, I could hear the girls' conversation as they hurried toward where I waited.

"Rose . . . what are we going to do if they catch us?" Vasilisa — I assumed — asked.

"They won't. I won't let them," came the response, and I imagined her glaring at the world.

"But if they've found us —" She was cut off.

"They've found us before. They didn't catch us then. We'll just drive over to the train station and go to L.A. They'll lose the trail."

I frowned at that. We'd never found them before. That's why, when we'd found out where we were, we'd rushed over here to catch them while we had the chance.

On the plus side, at least we knew now where they were going if, by some miracle, they did manage to get away.

She made it sound so simple, it was almost laughable. Because, if their hideaway life was anything, simple it was not.

"Do you hear that?" the Princess asked suddenly. No doubt her Moroi hearing had picked up the footsteps of the pursuing guardians.

There was a pause before Rosemarie said, "We've got to run for it."

"But you can't —" Vasilisa seemed to protest her friends thoughts a lot. Each of them trying to protect the other.

Rose cut her off. "Run."

As I watched, they came pounding down the road. It was cruel, I know, but I waited until they were about fifteen feet away from the Honda before stepping out five feet in front of them, blocking their desperate escape.

I hadn't expected them to look so mature. They'd given us pictures before we left, but they'd been from two years ago. A lot can change in that time. And change it sure had!

The Princess was taller, her face thinner, her blonde hair longer. Her jade green eyes were more intelligent and wise.

And as for Rosemarie . . . She was a whole other person. In the photo she looked young, but seeing her now made me really realize that they'd been gone for two years. She'd grown her hair out longer than it was in the picture, and her brown eyes were more jaded and beautiful. Then again, that could have just been because I was seeing her in person.

Of course, because I was a trained guardian, I was able to take all this in during the ten second pause the dhampir girl took to assess the situation.

She shoved the Princess behind her and pressed herself against her, facing me.

"Leave her alone. Don't touch her," she growled.

There was no way she could we, and we both knew it, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt. I raised both hands to show that I didn't have a weapon and that I wasn't going to hurt either of them.

"I'm not going to —" I started, stepping forward.

Apparently that one step was one step too close.

She lashed out at me. I admired her courage, but her technique was beyond sloppy. I was able to easily block it. However, because of her blood loss and because she'd underestimated my speed and strength — and possibly because I hit a little harder than I'd intended to — she stumbled back and wasn't able to catch her footing. She started to fall, going straight for the sidewalk, hip-first.

I saw her flinch as she prepared herself for the pain that would accompany hitting the cement, and, before I thought about it (though I probably still would have done it even if I'd thought it over for hours) I reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her right where she was.

As she hung in mid-air, held upright only by me, her hair swung down because of gravity, revealing the bite mark on her neck. I couldn't help staring at it, this mark of the dirty thing she'd done, never mind the fact that it was necessary for her friend's survival.

She righted herself, but I still couldn't stop looking at the still-revealed bite. When she noticed, she tentatively reached up to touch it, and her fingers came back slick with dark blood. Heat rose to her cheeks, and she shook her hair out to cover it. It made me wonder if that was the reason it was so long.

I looked at the now-covered mark for a moment longer before meeting her eyes. She gave me a look of defiance and yanked her arm out of my grip. I let her go. I could have held her for as long as I wanted, but I didn't see the point. We had them cornered. It was either come back to St. Vladimir's Academy with us or . . . well, there really wasn't any other option.

Rosemarie back toward the Princess, tensed and ready to attack again, despite how badly the first time went. I admired her perseverance, at least.

Vasilisa grabbed her hand. "Rose," she whispered. "Don't."

The words didn't have any effect on her at first, but I saw the moment when she realized she was outclassed. She sagged in defeat, staring at the ground.

I mentally sighed in relief, then stepped forward, looking at Vasilisa. I bowed to her and said, "My name is Dimitri Belikov. I've come to take you back to St. Vladimir's Academy, Princess."