“Why me?” I blurted out. I hadn’t meant to touch on those earlier questions, but I suddenly couldn’t help myself. There was too much tension here, too much emotion. “You could’ve asked Sonya or Dimitri to drive you. They probably would’ve even let you borrow their rental car.”

The ghost of a smile flashed across Adrian’s face. “I don’t know about that. And I think you know why I don’t want to risk being trapped in a car with our Russian friend. As for the rest… I don’t know, Sage. There’s something about you… you don’t judge like the others. I mean, you do. You’re more judgmental than any of them in some ways. But there’s an honesty to it. I feel…” The smile left his face as he faltered for words. “Comfortable around you, I guess.”

There was no way I could stand against that, though I find it ironic he was allegedly most comfortable around me when Moroi gave me panic attacks half the time. You don’t have to help, an inner voice warned me. You don’t owe him anything. You don’t owe any Moroi anything that isn’t absolutely necessary. Have you forgotten Keith? This isn’t a part of your job. The bunker came back to me, and I recalled how one vampire deal had landed Keith in Re-education. How much worse was I? Social interaction was an inevitable part of this assignment, but I was blurring all the lines around it again.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll do it. E-mail me what time you need to leave.”

That’s when the funniest part came. He looked totally floored. “Really?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You gave me that whole pitch and didn’t really think I’d agree, did you?”

“No,” he admitted, still clearly amazed. “I can’t always tell with you. I cheat with people, you know. I mean, I’m good at reading faces, but I pick up a lot from auras and act like I just have amazing insight. I haven’t learned to totally understand humans, though. You’ve got the same colors but a different feel.”

Auras didn’t weird me out as much as other vampire magic, but I still wasn’t entirely comfortable with them. “What color is mine?”

“Yellow, of course.”

“Of course?”

“Smart, analytic types usually have yellow. You’ve got a little purple here and there, though.” Even in the dimness, I could see a mischievous spark in his eyes. “That’s what makes you interesting.”

“What’s purple mean?”

Adrian put his hand on the door. “Gotta go, Sage. Don’t want to keep Dorothy waiting.”

“Come on. Tell me what purple is.” I was so curious, I nearly grabbed his arm.

He turned the knob. “I will if you want to join us.”

“Adrian—”

Laughing, he disappeared inside the room and shut the door. With a shake of my head, I started to return to the others and then decided to seek out my Diet Coke after all. I lingered with it in the kitchen for a while, leaning against the granite countertops and staring absentmindedly at the brilliant copper pots hanging from the ceiling. Why had I agreed to drive Adrian? What was it about him that managed to crack all the propriety and logic I built my life around? I understood why I often had a soft spot for Jill. She reminded me of my younger sister, Zoe. But Adrian? He wasn’t like anyone I knew. In fact, I was fairly certain there was no one in the entire world quite like Adrian Ivashkov.