"Belikov here," I answered my phone, the call interrupting family dinner.
"Belikov, Ivan's dead. You're being reassigned to an American Academy. Saint Vladimir's to be exact, they need your help to track down the Dragomir Princess and her novice friend." Ivan? Dead? He couldn't be, he just couldn't. He was my best friend and I hadn't been there to protect him. And what was this about me tracking down a runaway Princess and novice? I could do a variety of things, tracking runaways wasn't included. But didn't get a say in the matter, I'd lost my friend and charge and had already been reassigned. I held my emotions in check as I responded.
"When do I leave?"
"Tonight, at eleven pm Russian time." God Hans, thanks for the notice.
"I'll be ready."
I had five hours to pack for a major move, say bye to my close knit family and get to the airport. I was out in four hours. Who knew how long I would be assigned to the Academy, how long it would take me to find the girls assuming I could find them, and how long I would be separated from my family. I was twenty-two, had spent five years in the field as my best friend's Guardian and had six Strigoi kills on my hands. I hated killing, but a Strigoi kill was a necessary evil.
