Day 24. Situation is growing worse. My captors continue to find new and horrific ways to torture me. When not working, Agent Scarlet spends her days examining fabric swatches for bridesmaid dresses and going on about how in love she is. This usually causes Agent Boring Borscht to regale us with stories of Russian weddings that are even more boring than his usual ones. My attempts at escape have been thwarted thus far. Also, I am out of cigarettes. Any assistance or tobacco products you can send will be greatly appreciated. -Prisoner 24601
Richelle MeadHey, have you ever heard of the Alchemists? " "Sure, " he said. "Of course you have. " "Why? Did you run into them? " "Kind of. " "What'd you do? " "Why do you think I did anything? " He laughed. "Alchemists only show up when trouble happens, and you bring trouble wherever you go. Be careful, though. They're religious nuts." "That's kind of extreme," I said. "Just don't let them convert you." He winked. "I like you being the sinner you are.
Richelle MeadʺWhere is it?ʺ I asked. ʺLexington, Kentucky.ʺ ʺOh for Godʹs sake,ʺ I moaned. ʺWhy not the Bahamas? Or the Corn Palace?ʺ Dimitri tried to hide a smile. It might have been at my expense, but if Iʹd lightened his mood, I was grateful. ʺIf we leave right now, we can reach him before morning.ʺ I glanced around. ʺTough choice. Leave all this for electricity and plumbing?ʺ Now Sydney grinned. ʺAnd no more marriage proposals.ʺ ʺAnd weʹll probably have to fight Strigoi,ʺ added Dimitri. I jumped to my feet. ʺHow soon can we go?ʺ
Richelle MeadThat's smart. Once Sonya's able to talk, we'll need to move." He smiled. "Sydney's turning into a battle mastermind." "Hey, she's not in charge here," I teased. "She's just a soldier." "Right." He lightly brushed his fingers against my cheek. "Sorry, Captain." "General," I corrected, catching my breath at that brief touch.
Richelle MeadRight," I scoffed, "Alpha Yam Ergo." Adrian nodded solemnly. "A very old and prestigious society." "I've never heard of them," said the girl who'd claimed the first shirt. "They don't let many people in," he said. In white paint, he wrote his fake fraternity's initials: AYE. "Isn't that what pirates say?" asked one of the girls. "Well, the Alpha Yams have nautical origins," he explained. To my horror he began painting a pirate skeleton riding a motorcycle. "Oh, no," I groaned. "Not the tattoo." "It's our logo," he said.
Richelle Mead