swarming, it might as well have been an attack.
Desperately, I tried again to summon my walls, to block the ghosts off from me as I'd done long ago. The effort was excruciating. Somehow, my out-of-control emotions had brought the spirits, and while I was calmer now, that control was harder to bring about. My head continued throbbing.
Gritting my teeth, I focused every ounce of my strength into blocking out the ghosts.
"Go away," I hissed. "I don't need you anymore."
For a moment, it looked like my efforts were going to be useless. Then, slowly, one by one, the spirits began to fade. I felt the control I'd learned before gradually slip into place. Soon, there was nothing there but me, the darkness, and the barn-and Sydney.
I noticed her just as I collapsed to the ground. She was running out of the house in her pajamas, face pale. Kneeling at my side, she helped me sit up, legitimate fear all over her. "Rose! Are you okay?"
I felt like every scrap of energy in my brain and body had been sucked out. I couldn't move. I couldn't think.
"No," I told her.
And then I passed out.
I dreamed of Dimitri again, his arms around me and beautiful face leaning over me to care for me as he'd done so often when I was sick. Memories of things past came to me, the two of us laughing over some joke. Sometimes, in these dreams, he'd carry me away. Sometimes, we'd be riding in a car. Occasionally, his face would start to take on that fearsome Strigoi image that always tormented me. Then I'd quickly order my mind to brush such thoughts away.
Dimitri had taken care of me so many times and had always been there when I needed him. It had gone both ways, though. Admittedly, he had not seemed to end up in the infirmary as much as me. That was just my luck. Even when he was injured, he wouldn't acknowledge it. And as I dreamed and hallucinated, images came to me of one of the few times I'd been able to take care of him.
Just before the school had been attacked, Dimitri had been involved in a number of tests with me and my fellow novices to see how well we reacted to surprise assaults. Dimitri was so tough that he was almost impossible to beat, though he still got bruised up a number of times. I'd run into him in the gym once during these tests, surprised to see a cut on his cheek. It was hardly fatal, but there was a fair amount of blood showing.
"Do you realize you're bleeding to death?" I'd exclaimed. It was kind of an exaggeration, but still.
He touched his cheek absentmindedly and seemed to notice the injury for the first time. "I wouldn't quite go that far. It's nothing."
"It's nothing until you get an infection!"
"You know that's not likely," he said obstinately. That was true. Moroi-aside from contracting the occasional rare disease, as Victor had-hardly ever got sick. We dhampirs had inherited that from them, just as Sydney's tattoo gave her some protection. Nonetheless, I wasn't about to let Dimitri bleed all over.
"Come on," I said, pointing to the small bathroom in the gym. My voice had been fierce, and to my surprise, he'd actually obeyed.
After wetting a washcloth, I gently cleaned his face. He continued protesting at first but finally fell quiet. The bathroom was small, and we were just a few inches from each other. I could smell his clean, intoxicating scent and studied every detail of his face and strong body. My heart raced in my chest, but we were supposed to be on good behavior, so I tried to appear cool and collected. He was eerily calm too, but when I brushed his hair back behind his ears to clean the rest of his face, he flinched. My fingertips touching his skin had sent shock waves through me, and he'd felt them too. He caught hold of my hand and pulled it away.
"Enough," he said, voice husky. "I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" I asked. He hadn't released my hand. We were so, so close. The small bathroom seemed ready to burst with the electricity building between us. I knew this couldn't last but hated to let go of him. God, it was hard being responsible sometimes.
"Yes," he said. His voice was soft, and I knew he wasn't mad at me. He was afraid, afraid of how little it would take to ignite a