I couldn't finish it, I am sorry. I think I was left with a permanent mark from facepalming myself while reading this book. In previous books I could overlook ridiculousness concerning all-things-russian - it wasn't that big of a deal. Usually all inconsistency in that department I perceive as a cute thing, like "look, the author has no idea, so cute". But now I wish Richelle Mead has found a consultant or something. Every page was a pain to read. I gave up after half way through. Maybe I'll just skip this one and start with 5th book.