richellemead-vampireacademy01-vampireacademy-110824015328-phpapp02

"I would be if someone would show me how to use one," I argued. I knew every guardian in the
van had a stake and a gun concealed on him.
"More to it than just using the stake," said Dimitri in his old-and-wise way. "You've still got to
subdue them. And you've got to bring yourself to kill them.”
"Why wouldn't I kill them?”
"Most Strigoi used to be Moroi who purposely turned. Sometimes they're Moroi or dhampirs
turned by force. It doesn't matter. There's a strong chance you might know one of them. Could
you kill someone you used to know?”
This trip was getting less fun by the minute.
"I guess so. I'd have to, right? If it's them or Lissa…”
"You might still hesitate," said Dimitri. "And that hesitation could kill you. And her.”
"Then how do you make sure you don't hesitate?”
"You have to keep telling yourself that they aren't the same people you knew. They've become
something dark and twisted. Something unnatural. You have to let go of attachments and do
what's right. If they have any grain of their former selves left, they'll probably be grateful.”
"Grateful for me killing them?”
"If someone turned you into a Strigoi, what would you want?" he asked.
I didn't know how to answer that, so I said nothing. Never taking his eyes off me, he kept
pushing.
"What would you want if you knew you were going to be converted into a Strigoi against your
will? If you knew you would lose all sense of your old morals and understanding of what's right
and wrong? If you knew you'd live the rest of your life—your immortal life—killing innocent
people? What would you want?”
The van had grown uncomfortably silent. Staring at Dimitri, burdened by all those questions, I
suddenly understood why he and I had this weird attraction, good looks aside.