“What I do is my own business,” I said hotly.

“Of course it is,” he agreed. “This just hasn’t been your kind of business for a while. I’m surprised to see it come back.”

The restaurant served buffet breakfast, and though my mother would’ve fainted at the thought of serving herself, I obligingly took a plate and followed Dimitri into the line. Once we had our trays, we settled into a small table in the corner. He didn’t touch his food and instead leaned toward me with a look that meant all business.

“You’re better than this, Adrian,” he said. “Whatever the reason, you’re better than it. Don’t trick yourself into thinking you’re weaker than you are.”

It was so like what Sydney had told me in the past that it momentarily took me aback. Then, my anger returned. “Is that why you invited me here? To lecture? Don’t even act like you know anything about me! We aren’t that good of friends.”

That comment seemed to surprise him. “That’s too bad. I’d hoped we were. I’d hoped I knew the real you.”

“You don’t,” I said, shoving my tray aside. “No one does.” Only Sydney, I thought. And she’d be ashamed of me.

“There are a lot of people who care about you.” Dimitri was still the picture of calm. “Don’t turn away from them.”

“Like they’ve turned away from me?” I demanded, thinking of Lissa’s refusal to help. “I tried asking for help, and I was refused! No one can help me.” I stood up abruptly. “I’m not hungry anymore. Thanks for the ‘pep talk.’”

I left my untouched tray and stormed out on him. He didn’t follow, for which I was glad, since he probably could have literally dragged me back with no effort. I left from anger—and also from humiliation. His words hurt, not just because they leveled judgment at me—judgment I’d already been giving myself—but because they again reminded me of Sydney. Sydney, who’d always said I was so much more. Well, I’d done a damned good job of proving her wrong. I’d failed her. Dimitri’s words had driven that home, even if he didn’t realize it.

I went back to my room and downed a couple shots of vodka before crashing into my bed and falling almost instantly asleep. I dreamed of Sydney, not in the spirit magic way I’d hoped, but in the normal way. I dreamed of her laughter and the exasperated—yet amused—way she’d say, “Oh, Adrian,” when I did something ridiculous. I dreamed of sunlight turning her hair to molten gold and bringing out the glints of amber in her eyes. Sweetest of all, I dreamed of her arms around me, her lips pressed to mine and the way they could fill my body with desire and my heart with more love than I’d ever thought it capable of holding.

My dreaming and waking worlds shifted, and suddenly, there were arms wrapped tenderly around my waist and soft lips kissing me. I responded in kind, increasing the fervor in that kiss. I’d been so lonely for so long, so lost and adrift not just in the world but in my own head. Having Sydney here in bed grounded me and brought me back to myself in a way I hadn’t known was possible. I could weather the storms in my world, the craziness in my family . . . all of it could be endured now that Sydney was here.

Except she wasn’t here.

Sydney was gone, being kept far, far away from me . . . which meant it wasn’t her arms around me or her lips I tasted. Struggling out of my sleepy haze, I opened my eyes and tried to make sense of my surroundings. The blinds filtered out most of the morning sun, but I could still see enough to realize the girl in bed with me had black hair, not gold. Her eyes were gray, not brown.

“Nina?”

I pushed her gently away and scooted as far from her as I could while still managing to stay in the bed. Amusement sparkled in her eyes, and she laughed at my surprise. “You were expecting someone else? Wait, don’t answer that.”

“No . . . but what are you doing here?” I blinked around the dim room. “How did you even get in here?”

“You gave me a key for emergencies, don’t you remember?” I didn’t, but it also didn’t surprise me. She looked mildly disappointed that it had just been something I’d done on drunken impulse. “I got worried when I didn’t hear from you this morning, so I headed over here to check on you when I went on my lunch break. I’ve got a weird late shift.”

“Assaulting isn’t really the same as checking on me,” I said.

“‘Assaulting’ is kind of an exaggeration,” she chastised. “Especially since you were the one who reached for me when I sat next you on the bed.”

“I did?” Again, I couldn’t say I was entirely surprised. “Well . . . I’m sorry. I was half-asleep and didn’t know what I was doing. I was . . . dreaming.”

“You seemed to know what you were doing to me,” said Nina huskily. She reached toward me. “Were you dreaming of her?”

“Who?”

“You know who. Her. The girl who torments you. Don’t deny it,” she ordered, seeing me about to protest. “Don’t you think I can tell? Oh, Adrian.” It was jarring hearing her say it, after I’d just dreamed about Sydney uttering those very words. Nina lightly stroked my cheek. “I could tell as soon as you came back to Court someone had broken your heart. I’ve hated seeing you on the path you’re on. It eats me up.”

I shook my head but didn’t remove her hand. “You don’t understand. There’s more to it than you know.”

“I know that she’s not here. And that you’re miserable. Please . . .” She scooted back across the bed and leaned over me, her hair forming a curtain of dark curls around us. “I’ve been drawn to you since the moment we met. Let me make you feel better. . . .”

She leaned down to kiss me, and I held up a hand to stop her. “No . . . I can’t.”

“Why? Is she coming back?”

Nina’s voice wasn’t cruel, but there was certainly a challenge in it, and I found myself looking away. “I . . . I don’t know. . . .”

“Then why fight this?” she asked beseechingly. “I know you like me. More importantly, I know you understand me. No one else gets what it’s like, to be tossed around on the waves of spirit and endure what we do. Isn’t that worth something? To just have someone around so you aren’t alone?”