stop."
Roza. The old nickname. The name he'd first called me when we'd fallen prey to Victor's lust charm, both of us wrapped naked in each other's arms ...
This isn't the Dimitri you knew.
My hands were incapacitated, so I struck out with my legs and feet as best I could. It didn't do much. Without full use of the rest of my body for balance, I had no force to throw into my kicks. For his part, he looked more annoyed than truly concerned or angry. With a loud sigh, he grabbed me by the shoulders and flipped me around, pressing me against the wall and immobilizing me with the full force of his body. I struggled a little but was as pinned as the Strigoi had been when the others and I had gone hunting. The universe had a sick sense of humor.
"Stop fighting me." His breath was warm against my neck, his body right up against mine. I knew his mouth was only a couple inches away. "I'm not going to hurt you."
I gave another fruitless shove. My breath was coming in ragged gasps, and my head injury throbbed. "You'll have to understand if I have a hard time believing that."
"If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. Now, if you're going to keep fighting, I'll have to tie you up. If you stop, I'll let you stay unrestrained."
"Aren't you afraid I'll escape?"
"No." His voice was perfectly calm, and chills ran down my spine. "I am not."
We stood like that for almost a minute, deadlocked. My mind raced. It was true that he probably would have killed me already if that were his intent, yet that gave me no reason to believe I was even remotely safe. Nonetheless, we were at a draw in this fight. Okay, draw wasn't entirely accurate. I was at a draw. He was toying with me. My head was throbbing where his blow had landed, and this pointless fighting would only take a further toll. I had to regain my strength in order to find a way to escape-if I lived that long. I also needed to stop thinking about how close our bodies were. After our months of being so careful not to touch, this much contact was heady.
I relaxed in his hold. "Okay."
He hesitated before letting me go, probably wondering if he could trust me. The whole moment reminded me of when we'd been together in the little cabin on the periphery of the Academy's grounds. I'd been raging and upset, brimming with spirit's darkness. Dimitri had held me down then, too, and talked me out of that horrible state. We had kissed, then his hands had lifted my shirt, and-no, no. Not here. I couldn't think about that here.
Dimitri finally eased up, releasing me from the wall. I turned around, and all my instincts wanted to lash out and attack him again. Sternly, I reminded myself to bide my time so that I could gain more strength and information. Even though he'd let me go, he hadn't moved away. We were only a foot apart. Against my better judgment, I found myself taking him in again, like I had on the street. How could he be the same and yet so different? I tried my best not to focus on the similarities-his hair, the difference in our heights, the shape of his face. Instead, I concentrated on the Strigoi features, the red in his eyes and pallor of his skin.
I was so fixated on my task that it took me a moment to realize he wasn't saying anything either. He was studying me intently, like his eyes could look right through me. I shivered. It almost-almost!-seemed as though I captivated him the same way he captivated me. That was impossible, though. Strigoi didn't possess those kinds of emotions, and besides, the thought of him still having any affection for me was probably just wishful thinking on my part. His face had always been hard to read, and now it was overlaid with a mask of cunning and coldness that made it truly impossible to know what was on his mind.
"Why did you come here?" he asked at last.
"Because you hit me on the head and dragged me here." If I was going to die, I was going to go in true Rose style.
The old Dimitri would have cracked a smile or given an exasperated sigh. This one remained impassive. "That's not what I meant, and you know it.
Why are you here?"