richellemead-vampireacademy01-vampireacademy-110824015328-phpapp02

Looking away, I tried to ignore them, suddenly hoping the priest would start up soon. But Lissa
returned their looks, and a sudden fierceness flashed across her face. She didn't say a word, but
their smiles grew smaller under her heavy gaze.
"Tell her you're sorry," she told them. "And make sure she believes it.”
A moment later, they practically fell all over themselves apologizing to me and begging for
forgiveness. I couldn't believe it. She'd used compulsion in public—in church, of all places. And
on two people at the same time.
They finally exhausted their supply of apologies, but Lissa wasn't finished.
"That's the best you can do?" she snapped.
Their eyes widened in alarm, both terrified that they'd angered her.
"Liss," I said quickly, touching her arm. "It's okay I, uh, accept their apologies.”
Her face still radiated disapproval, but she finally nodded. The guys slumped in relief.
Yikes. I'd never felt so relieved to have a service start. Through the bond, I felt a sort of dark
satisfaction coming from Lissa. It was uncharacteristic for her, and I didn't like it.
Needing to distract myself from her troubling behavior, I studied other people as I so often did.
Nearby, Christian openly watched Lissa, a troubled look on his face. When he saw me, he
scowled and turned away.
Dimitri sat in the back as usual, for once not scanning every corner for danger. His attention
was turned inward, his expression almost pained. I still didn't know why he came to church. He
always seemed to be wrestling with something.
In the front, the priest was talking about St. Vladimir again.
"His spirit was strong, and he was truly gifted by God. When he touched them, the crippled
walked, and the blind could see. Where he walked, flowers bloomed.”
Man, the Moroi needed to get more saints—