Drake Chronicles: 01 My Love Lies Bleeding (16 page)

Still. He’d lost his father.

“I’m sorry your father died.”

His jaw clenched. “Thank you.” His voice was very husky.

“We didn’t do it.”

Something bloomed right then and there in the small dark space between us. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew enough to know it was rare and delicate. And it felt so real I might have been able to reach out and touch it if I tried.

“You can go to sleep,” he told me softly. “I’ll look after you.” CHAPTER 18

Lucy

Sunday afternoon

I woke up late the next day, smothered by my very own vampire blanket. I shifted experimentally but Nicholas didn’t budge. His arms were wrapped around me, pinning me ruthlessly to his chest. That might sound passionate in romance novels, but in real life, it was uncomfortable. My arm was asleep, my nose was mashed against his chest, and I really had to pee.

“Nicholas,” I whispered.

Nothing.

I pushed his shoulder.

Still nothing.

None of those same novels had ever made any suggestions as to the extraction of one’s self from a superhuman embrace. There were logistical issues. Such as the fact that I could break my own arm trying to squirm away and he’d sleep right through it. I squirmed anyway, just in case.

“Damn it, Nicky, wake up, you undead slug.”

It wasn’t a good sign when I couldn’t even irritate him into a response. There was a narrow window beside Solange’s bed. I might just be able to reach it with my toe. I stretched until the arch of my foot and the back of my calf began to cramp painfully.

“This is ridiculous,” I huffed, stretching farther. I could feel my face going red with the effort. With my luck, this would be the exact moment he woke up— to find me inches from his head, straining and panting like I was passing a kidney stone.

I finally managed to hook the cord of the blinds with my toes. One yank and a quick release and the blinds snapped up. Late-afternoon sunlight slanted over the bed and across his pale, still face. The glass was treated, of course, so it wasn’t dangerous, but Nicholas’s young vampire instinct made him recoil from the sudden fall of light. He burrowed under the security of blankets, shifting his arm and throwing it over his head for good measure.

The only problem was that he did it so fast, the momentum shoved me right off the bed and onto the floor. I landed with a squeak and a particularly ungraceful display of flailing limbs, neither of which helped to make my landing any softer.

My elbow tingled and my tailbone throbbed, and I now had intimate knowledge of the dust bunnies under Solange’s bed. And the patchwork skirt I thought I’d lost last year, twisted under a storage box covered in stickers. Yes, even little girls with vampire lineage have a sticker phase. I shoved to my feet, grimacing. Nicholas slept on peacefully, looking exactly like a marble carving of a sleeping angel. Hah.

There was nothing angelic about the way he kissed.

When I caught myself snickering, I realized I must be groggier than I thought. I hurried out of the room before I embarrassed myself irrevocably. The house was quiet. Boudicca lay in front of Hope’s door. She wagged her tail when she saw me but otherwise didn’t move. Liam must have sent her to guard the bedroom. I went to fetch Mrs. Brown and then let her out to terrorize the wildlife in the backyard. One thing I’d learned in my family was that if you had an animal companion, never “pet,” who was dependent on you, you lived up to your responsibilities. No excuses. Ever.

When I was seven I’d begged my parents for a goldfish because I loved feeding the ones at the Buddhist temple we went to every New Year’s Eve. Only I forgot to feed mine, and it floated belly-up one sad Sunday morning. To say that my mother overreacted was to vastly underestimate my mother. We had a funeral, complete with a papier-mâché Viking boat, which she set on fire, sending my goldfish’s spirit to Valhalla via Lake Violet.

“Hurry up,” I called over to Mrs. Brown, who was wiggling her little pug bottom in joy at finding one of Byron’s abandoned beef bones on the edge of the lawn. The sun was soft, like warm honey poured onto the treetops and the roses, glittering over the windows of the farmhouse. It was one of those perfect long summer days just before school starts. Solange and I usually wandered around town, complaining about how bored we were and how much it sucked that I had to go back to school and she had to learn how to pour tea in the precise Victorian way. You know, in case Charlotte Brontë ever dropped by for tea cakes. I would have given anything to be that bored right now.

I wished we knew where Solange was and whether she was all right. We didn’t even know if she was still conscious. There were only two days left until her birthday.

If someone wasn’t there to help her through her bloodchange, she’d be dead before she even got a chance to be sixteen— or else she’d turn into a Hel-Blar.

If she wasn’t already dead.

“Can’t think like that,” I muttered, shredding the rose I hadn’t realized I’d picked.

Torn petals drifted messily to the ground. Mrs. Brown attacked them as if they offended her sense of order. I didn’t hear the window slide open over her fierce growls, but I did hear Hope raise her voice.

“Lucky, isn’t it?”

“No one calls me that.” I looked up, shading my eyes. “There are alarms on the windows, and if you jump, Byron will chase you.” I snapped my fingers at the shaggy dog, who slunk over from the porch, head lowered submissively as soon as he saw Mrs. Brown. As a threat, he needed work.

“I’m not going to jump,” Hope assured me. “Anyway, I’d break my leg from this distance.”

“Good.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“I can get you away from here,” she added softly.

Now I knew exactly what to say.

“Not you, too,” I said impatiently. “I’m not a prisoner, and the Drakes aren’t monsters. They’re family.”

“You’re not a vampire.” Her expression darkened. I wouldn’t have thought such a cheerful face could look so angry. “Did they change you?”

“No, of course not.” I scowled back. “Wait, how did you know my name?”

“You’re Solange’s closest friend. Of course we know who you are.”

“That stupid field guide, right? Do you also know how creepy you are? Stalking a fifteen-year- old girl in your commando outfits?”

“But drinking blood isn’t creepy?”

“No creepier than eating a dead cow.”

She shook her head. “Kieran said you wouldn’t be interested in detox.”

“Detox? From what? My friends?”

“From vampires. From this lifestyle.” She waved a hand at the treated glass.

“From alarm systems and night walkers and sword-fights.”

“Okay, first of all, I happen to love sword fighting. And second of all, what, your lifestyle of secret agent assassins is somehow suburban white bread all of a sudden?

Please.”

“Oh, Lucky, it’s not like that.”

“It’s Lucy,” I corrected her through my teeth. “And your people tried to kill my best friend, so you’ll forgive me if I’m not overly keen on learning the secret handshake.” She shook her head sadly. “You should be going on dates and hanging out at the mall. Not wearing stakes on your belt.”

I shrugged one shoulder. “The mall sucks.”

“I can help you.”

“Like you helped Solange? No thanks.”

“You can have a normal life. It’s not too late for you.” I nearly laughed. “You’ve clearly never met my parents. Normal was never an option.” I folded my arms and smiled at her sarcastically. “You could leave the Helios-Ra. We could help you stop trying to kill people just because they have a medical condition that you don’t understand.”

She sucked in a breath. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s totally like that. God. ”

“You’re so young. You can’t see the bigger picture.”

“I’m sixteen, I’m not an idiot.”

“We could use you.” She made it sound like it was something I should be excited about. “There’s so much we could teach you. You have the instinct for it, I can tell.” The thought made me shiver. “No.”

“The offer stands. If you should change your mind.” She looked young, with her ponytail and her round cheeks. Still, her eyes were old, knowing. I was spared further conversation when Bruno came striding out of the wooded area bordering the lawn.

“Are you daft, lass?” he asked, accent thickening with disgust. “It’s nearly dusk.

Get your arse inside.” I hadn’t noticed the sky had turned to lavender and pink, the edges burning like tissue paper set on fire. He glowered at Hope. “And you, get inside and close that window. If you run, we have ways of fetching you back. You won’t like them.”

“I’m not a prisoner,” she reminded him gently. “I’m here as a gesture of good faith.”

He snorted but didn’t answer, preferring instead to nudge me back inside like a great big Scottish bully.

“All right, all right, I’m coming,” I muttered. “Someone had to let Mrs. Brown out.” He shut the patio door behind me and locked it. His eyes were smudged with bruises of fatigue. Mrs. Brown chased Byron around the living room until he hid under the library table, whimpering. That, at least, made the night feel more normal. It wasn’t long before Liam and Helena came downstairs to join us, followed by Geoffrey, Sebastian, and a rumpled Nicholas. For some reason when he looked at me, I felt myself blushing.

“Still no word from Hyacinth,” Helena said grimly and without preamble.

Bruno shook his head, confirming. “We can’t track her phone. It’s possible she’s out of range.”

Liam shook his head. “Not likely. I talked to Hart and he claims none of his people came into contact with her.”

“And we believe him?” Nicholas asked, leaning back against the mantel and yawning.

Liam’s phone rang from the depths of his leather jacket. He answered it, listened, and said only one word. “Good.” He looked at his wife. Her shoulders lost some of their tension and then the front door burst open to the rest of the Drake brothers.

They rushed in, covered in mud, clothing torn, faces angry.

“Where is she?” Logan asked. “Where’s Solange?”

“We don’t know,” Liam answered him.

Logan closed his eyes briefly, his face pale as lily petals. Quinn swore viciously.

Connor punched the wall, denting the plaster.

“Where’s your cousin?” Helena frowned, after giving each of her sons the once-over to be sure they were unhurt.

“London took off ,” Marcus sighed. “She locked one of the grates behind her and just took off.”

“What?” Nicholas pushed away from the wall. “You’re kidding. She got you into this mess in the first place.”

Logan dropped into a chair. “I think she was embarrassed. Or confused. She loves Lady Natasha, you know that.”

“And what about Solange?”

“The good news is that Veronique gave her a vial of blood to help her through the change. The bad news is the little idiot gave herself up to the Helios-Ra to save us.”

“Not quite,” Liam told them starkly. “Your sister gave herself up to a rogue unit currently unrecognized by Helios.”

“Well that’s just freaking great.”

The Drake brothers put a rioting soccer stadium to shame when they got going.

And there was nothing like the news that their baby sister had sacrificed herself for them to someone worse than Helios-Ra. The language currently blistering the air would have made the proverbial sailor blush. Helena had to whistle around her thumb and forefinger to make the yelling subside. She was on her feet, her long black braid hanging behind her, her pale eyes like summer lightning.

“Enough. We don’t have the time for this.” She jabbed a finger at Logan and Nicholas. “You two stay here with Lucy. Sebastian, Geoffrey, your father, and I will find your sister. The rest of you will help Bruno’s team find your aunt.” She snapped her fingers and it was like a pistol shot. “That’s final, not one word out of any of you.

Go. Now.”

The house emptied so fast the silence felt like a slap. I blinked at Nicholas and Logan.

“They don’t really think we’re going to sit around here and wait, do they?”

“Of course they do,” Nicholas replied.

“Look, I’m not sitting around here anymore. Solange needs our help.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” Logan said. “You’re sixteen and human.”

“Shut up.”

“I mean it, Lucy. Solange would kill us if we let you put yourself in danger.”

“Logan, don’t be an ass.”

“I have been sleeping in mud. I’m covered in dirt and blood and these were my favorite pants before I landed in raccoon shit.”

I bit back a totally inappropriate chuckle. “Raccoon shit?”

“Lucy.”

I kissed his cheek, wrinkling my nose. “Why don’t you go up and take a shower. If you stop bitching, I’ll even wait for you before I figure out what to do next.” He pushed to his feet, groaning like an old man. “I don’t think I like you anymore.” I patted his head. “Don’t be silly, you love me.”

“Try and stay out of trouble in the ten minutes it’s going to take me to get clean.”

“I can’t make any promises,” I replied primly.

He shot Nicholas a smirk. “Good luck, little brother.” I scowled at his retreating back.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

CHAPTER 19

Solange

Sunday, sunset

When I opened my eyes, Kieran was crouched next to me, his hand on my shoulder. I jerked back, reflexively. Startled, he did the same.

“Easy,” he said. “It’s just me.”

I blinked, pushing myself up into a sitting position. I felt less like a truck had run over me and then backed up to make sure the job was done properly. Now it felt as if the truck had hit me only once.

“What time is it?” I asked groggily.

“Almost dusk. I tried to wake you earlier but you didn’t respond. Scared the crap out of me,” he added, muttering as he got to his feet. “I’d rather be well out of here by sundown.”

I swung my feet over the edge of the cot.

“Okay, give me a minute.” I yawned.

“Whoa.” He was staring at me. I resisted the urge to wipe my face to see if there was drool on my cheek or something. “Your eyes.”

“What? What?” I scrubbed at them violently, horrified at the thought they might have those gross goopy things at the edges. Or were they even more bloodshot? I’d heard of that happening, where the whites ran with blood.