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along with their blood, but they didn't need as much as a human—or, say, a growing dhampir<br />
girl—needed.<br />
Still, the food alone could have justified me coming along on this venture, I decided. Except,<br />
when the meal ended, Lissa told me we couldn't leave.<br />
"We have to mingle," she whispered.<br />
Mingle?<br />
Lissa laughed at my discomfort. "You're the social one."<br />
It was true. In most circumstances, I was the one who put myself out there and wasn't afraid to<br />
talk to people. Lissa tended to be shyer. Only, with this group, the tables were turned. This was<br />
her element, not mine, and it amazed me to see just how well she could interact with royal high<br />
society now. She was perfect, polished and polite. Everyone was eager to talk to her, and she<br />
always seemed to know the right thing to say. She wasn't using compulsion, exactly, but she<br />
definitely put out an air that drew others to her. I think it might have been an unconscious effect<br />
of spirit. Even with the meds, her magical and natural charisma came through. Whereas intense<br />
social interactions had once been forced and stressful for her, she now conducted them with<br />
ease. I was proud of her. Most of the conversation stayed pretty light: fashion, royal love lives,<br />
etc. No one seemed to want to spoil the atmosphere with ugly Strigoi talk.<br />
So I clung to her side for the rest of the night. I tried to tell myself it was just practice for the<br />
future, when I'd follow her around like a quiet shadow anyway. The truth was, I just felt too<br />
uncomfortable with this group and knew my usual snarky defense mechanisms really weren't<br />
useful here. Plus, I was painfully aware that I was the only dhampir dinner guest. There were<br />
other dhampirs, yes, but they were in formal guardian mode, hovering on the periphery of the<br />
room.<br />
As Lissa worked the crowd, we drifted over to a small group of Moroi whose voices were<br />
growing louder. One of them I recognized. He was the guy from the fight that I'd helped break<br />
up, only this time he wore a striking black tuxedo instead of a swimsuit. He glanced up at our<br />
approach, blatantly checked us out, but apparently didn't remember me. Ignoring us, he
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