The Golden Lily Page 0,17

work you guys do."

"He just complains the most," she explained. "Which is kind of funny since he also probably gets out the most, between his classes and his cigarette breaks." I'd nearly forgotten about the two art classes Adrian was taking at a local college. He usually kept his latest projects on display, but there'd been none in the living room lately. I hadn't realized until that moment how much I missed them. I might give him a hard time, but sometimes those artistic glimpses into the way he thought were fascinating.

Sonya gave me a brief recap of her wedding plans as we walked the short distance to the Thai restaurant. Her relationship with dhampir Mikhail Tanner was kind of epic on a lot of levels, I supposed. First, dhampirs and Moroi didn't generally get involved in serious relationships.

Usually, they were just casual affairs that resulted in the reproduction of more dhampirs.

In addition to the scandal of even being involved, Mikhail had actually wanted to hunt down Sonya when she was a Strigoi to free her from that twisted state. Rose had attempted the same with Dimitri, believing death was better than being a Strigoi. Mikhail had failed, but their love had remained steadfast enough through the ordeal that when she'd defied the odds and been restored, they'd immediately gotten back together. I couldn't even begin to imagine love like that.

"We're still deciding on flowers," she continued. "Hydrangeas or lilies. I'm guessing I know what your vote is for."

"Actually, I'd say hydrangeas. I'm around too many lilies already." She laughed at that and suddenly knelt near a flower bed filled with gladiolas. "More than you know. There are lilies sleeping in this bed."

"They're out of season," I pointed out.

"Nothing's ever out of season." Sonya glanced around covertly and then rested her fingers on the earth. Moments later, dark green shoots appeared, growing taller and taller until a red trumpet lily opened up on top. "Ah. Red. Alchemists ones are white - oh, are you okay?" I had backed up so far on the sidewalk that I'd nearly walked into the street. "You... you shouldn't do that. Someone might see."

"No one saw," she said, getting to her feet. Her face softened. "I'm so sorry. I forget sometimes how you feel about this. It was wrong of me."

"It's okay," I said, not sure that it was. Vampire magic always made my skin crawl. Vampires, creatures who needed blood, were bad enough. But being able to manipulate the world with magic? Even worse. That lily, although beautiful, took on a sinister edge now. It shouldn't have existed this time of the year.

No more was said about magic, and we soon reached the main strip downtown, where the Thai restaurant was. We placed a giant carryout order and were told it would take about fifteen minutes. Sonya and I lingered outside, admiring downtown Palm Springs in twilight. Lastminute shoppers were out before the boutiques closed, and all the restaurants were hopping with those coming and going. Many of them had outdoor tables on the sidewalk, and friendly conversation buzzed around us. A large fountain, tiled in bright colors, fascinated children and inspired tourists to stop for photo ops. Sonya was easily distracted by the various plants and trees that the city used to beautify the streets. Even without spirit's ability to affect living things, she was still quite the gardener.

"Hey you! Elder Melrose!"

I turned and winced when I saw Lia DiStefano striding toward me. Lia was a fashion designer with a shop here in downtown Palm Springs. I hadn't realized we were standing directly across from her store. If I had, I would've waited inside the restaurant. Lia was short but had an overwhelming presence, enhanced by the flamboyant gypsy style she often chose for her personal attire.

"I've been calling you for weeks," she said, once she reached our side of the street. "Why don't you answer?"

"I've been really busy," I said straight-faced.

"Uh-huh." Lia put her hands on her hips and tried to stare me down, which was kind of amazing since I was taller. "When are you going to let your sister model for me again?"

"Miss DiStefano," I said patiently, "I've told you before. She can't do it anymore. Our parents don't like it. Our religion doesn't allow faces to be photographed." Last month, Jill's runway-perfect build and gorgeous, ethereal features had attracted Lia's attention. Seeing as having your picture taken en masse was kind of a bad way to stay in hiding,