Drake Chronicles: 01 My Love Lies Bleeding (21 page)

Araksaka.

I tried harder to move, to scream, to kick out. It was as if I was barely in my body

—it paid virtually no attention to my frantic commands.

“Not quite out yet, are you sweetheart?” I tried to fight but only dangled limply over his arms when he picked me up. His mouth was very near my neck. I shuddered violently. “Just a little taste.”

“Michel, no.” Someone plucked me away like an apple off a tree. “Lady Natasha would have your head,” he said. “And more importantly, mine as well.”

“But she smells so delicious.”

“Put in your damn nose plugs— you know it’s the bloodchange pheromones.”

“Spoilsport.”

“If you two are quite finished courting,” the woman snapped, looking down as she climbed the rope back up to the forest floor. “We don’t have much time.” My captor slung me over his shoulder and went up the rope, quick as a hummingbird. The light in the woods was faintly gray, the sky like a black pearl. I could feel the approach of dawn, the way I’d never actually felt it before. It was like a weight on my chest, like being wrapped in chains and dropped into the ocean. The guards felt it just as keenly as I did, I could tell by the way they lowered their heads and ran faster than I’d ever seen a vampire run. The trees blurred into shadows, the leaves slapping at us faintly as we passed. Coyotes yipped hysterically from the valley behind us. The mountain loomed closer and closer, blocking out the shimmer of light on the horizon. The woman cursed. They ran faster. I hoped they crumbled into ashes, even if it meant I would too.

And then we were at the caves and they leaped inside as if their feet were on fire.

The first spear of sunlight hurled from the sky, fell between the branches and struck the ground. It gilded the humus underfoot, the curling ferns, the white birch bark peeling into strips. The woman cursed again.

“Too damn close.”

That would be my very last moment of sunlight. Ever. My skin itched all over. I was certain that if I’d been caught out there, I would have blistered as badly as the other vampires would have.

I was taken down a narrow tunnel and into a circular hall with rugs on the floor and tapestries on the walls. Torches burned and candles were scattered everywhere, like stars on a clear winter night. Ravens cawed from floor to ceiling in wrought-iron cages, eyes gleaming like jet beads. The few vampires there stopped what they were doing and followed us to a white throne, trailing behind us like the train of a wedding dress. Lady Natasha was on her feet, her face so pale it could have been carved out of moonstone. Even her hair seemed stunned, white as orchids. I might have enjoyed that brief moment of victory, if I hadn’t seen Kieran beside her, equally pale. What was he still doing here? Our plan was falling apart around us and there wasn’t a single thing I could do about it.

“Is that Solange Drake?” Lady Natasha’s voice was cold enough to crack steel. I couldn’t quite place her accent. It seemed vaguely French, vaguely Russian.

The guard still carrying me lowered himself to one knee.

“Yes, my lady. We found her in the woods.”

“Did you now?” She turned her head a fraction of an inch toward Kieran. He was staring at me, so many emotions chasing across his face that I didn’t have time to decipher them all.

Our plan hadn’t worked after all.

Natasha gestured to a silver plate on which lay a roasted heart, swimming in a pond of blood. The pearl-studded iron box Kieran had taken from the chest before leaving me to go hunting sat nearby. “And what, pray tell, is this delicacy I was about to consume?”

Kieran didn’t answer, didn’t look away from me as I was released to tumble to the carpet.

“I asked you a question, boy.” One backhand and Kieran was crashing into the table, scattering a vase of roses, a crystal bowl, and the silver plate. The heart hit the side of the throne and slid slowly down in a syrupy trail of blood. I would have gagged, but even my throat was too tired from the bloodchange to react. Kieran coughed, rubbing his chest as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

“It’s a deer heart,” he replied without inflection.

“How very clever,” she purred. One of the royal guards winced at the sound. She raised an eyebrow at the guard still on one knee. “We’ve much to do apparently. The ball will go on as planned, and we’ll set the Drake girl up on the dais so that everyone can watch her die, along with any threat to our unity.”

“No.” Kieran leaped to his feet.

She smiled at him.

“And you’ll watch every moment of it, after which, I will pull your heart out of your puny rib cage and eat it. Seeing as I was denied my treat.”

“Solange doesn’t want your throne or Montmartre,” Kieran insisted, crouching to put his back to a tapestry of a maiden drinking from a white unicorn, when two guards began closing in on him. “She doesn’t want to be queen of the damn vampires.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Lady Natasha paused, turned to the doorway. She sighed. “Now what? I don’t recall inviting you.”

“There’s been a change of plans.” Hope marched into the room, two agents behind her. Her eyes narrowed. “Kieran. What the hell are you doing here?” Natasha lifted her chin.

“Kieran?” she repeated icily. “As in the son of Hart’s brother? When you killed him you said you had everything under control.”

Kieran froze. He looked as if he was going to choke on his fury.

“What?” He turned slowly toward Hope. “What did she just say?”

“Everything is under control, but I hardly expected you to invite a Helios agent into your court.”

“He brought me a heart.” Lady Natasha nodded toward me. I was still sprawled on the carpet. “Clearly not hers.”

“Well, the Drakes are on to me now,” Hope snapped.

“You,” Kieran bit out, fists clenching.

Hope didn’t look particularly concerned with the hatred pouring out of him.

“I’m doing what I have to for the Helios-Ra, and I guarantee it’s more than your father or uncle could ever have accomplished. Lady Natasha understands that. We look after our own.”

Kieran didn’t bother with more debate; he launched himself at her. He didn’t make it within two feet of her, of course, not with her men there and the Araksaka as well.

He didn’t have a chance. I doubt that mattered to him.

“Honestly, children these days.” Natasha waved her hand, looking bored. “Take them away.”

CHAPTER 25

Lucy

Monday morning

I must have dozed off , even though the thought of it seemed impossible. The sound of the iron lock opening woke me up. I was on my feet before my eyes were even fully open. It was the Conan extra who had led us into the hall yesterday. His muscles were even bigger close up, but he looked a little haggard. I had no idea how long I’d slept, but Nicholas was out cold in his cell, didn’t even stir at the sound of the iron gate swinging open on rusty hinges. I might have tried to dart around the guard but he was big enough to block the entire space and, anyway, where would I go? Up the stairs into the main hall?

He placed a jug of water on the floor. “You should clean up.” I frowned. “What? Why?” For some reason I thought his voice sounded familiar, but I was pretty sure I would have remembered him if I’d seen him before.

“It’s expected.”

“Well, you can take your—”

“Stay down,” he advised quietly. “And keep your mouth shut.” Was he actually trying to help me? The apple he tossed me nearly hit me in the face. I caught it mostly by reflex. Then I realized why I recognized his voice. He was the vampire who’d come to the window of the farm house and offered his allegiance.

He straightened at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. His expression went hard, blank. Two women came up behind him, not tattooed with the mark of Araksaka but not exactly friendly, either. They brought in a basket and a beautiful gown, all brocade and embroidered velvet with a square neckline and panniers and lace petticoats. It was burgundy with pale blue crystal beads and accents on the bodice and around the hem. The dress’s hanger was placed on a hook intended for iron chains and other methods of torture.

Now I was really confused.

That the basket was filled with a silver-backed hairbrush, a hand mirror, a square of lavender soap, and vials of perfume didn’t clear things up even a little.

“Um . . . what is all this stuff?”

The women eyed me critically.

“It should fit. The shoes look too small, you’ll have to go barefoot.”

“I’m supposed to wear that costume?” At any other time, I would have been thrilled to prance around in some old-fashioned gown dripping with ornamentation.

“You can’t very well attend a ball in those dirty things, can you?” She sneered at my pants. “It would be an insult to our queen.”

I felt staggered. I actually pressed a hand to my temple.

“Wait, it’s an actual ball? Waltzing and canapés and glass slippers?” My very first ball and it was in honor of a lunatic murderer and would likely end with a vampire killing me. And I had to dress up for the plea sure?

“Don’t get the dress dirty,” one of them said.

“Why not?”

“Lady Natasha would be . . . displeased.”

“This is totally surreal,” I muttered after they’d left me alone with my very own ball gown. There was a zipper up the side, so at least I wasn’t expected to contort myself around to do up my own laces. Hyacinth had always said the reason well-to-do ladies had maidservants was because none of the clothes were user- friendly. The gown was beautiful, embellished by hand, every minute detail perfectly done. And I didn’t want to wear it, not one bit. I edged back as if were dipped in poison.

Instead of using the water in the jug to wash with, I drank every drop. I was thirsty and hungry enough that my stomach cramped around the apple I ate. I paced a while because I literally had no idea what else to do with myself. This was the last situation I’d ever expected to be in. I was at a complete loss.

“Nicholas,” I called out. He was on his back, still as stone. “Nicholas,” I tried again.

Nothing. Not a flicker of an eyelash. I gave up and went back to pacing. After an hour of pacing, my calves were sore and I was feeling dizzy. I used the chamber pot, while I knew Nicholas was still asleep, and then decided to put the dress on when I realized that if the guards came down and I was still in Solange’s cargos, they’d likely strip me down themselves. A white cotton slip dress went on first, followed by the panniers, which were basically two baskets hanging on a wide leather belt that went around my waist. It felt weird and bulky. The dress went on top and was heavier than it looked.

The fabric was stiff and tight enough that I had no choice but to stand up straight.

There was a blue velvet choker. I wished I still had the Drake family cameo; I’d attach it out of spite.

And it might give me courage.

Because I talked a good game, but the truth was, my knees were weak as water and I felt sick to my stomach. Panic was stealthy and it hunted me on soft, silent feet, not quite closing in but never going away, either.

So when Conan returned, I really thought that I was hallucinating.

Kieran was thrown into Nicholas’s cell, his face bloody and bruised, his left arm hugged to his chest as if it was broken. But what really caught my attention was the body draped over Conan’s huge arms, gently placed on the pallet beside me.

Solange.

CHAPTER 26

Lucy

It was surprisingly difficult to crouch down by Solange’s side, and not just because of the ridiculous dress. Her head lolled to one side as if even her neck was too tired to hold it up. I couldn’t tell if she was breathing, and my hands shook as I leaned closer. I really didn’t want to see a gaping hole in my best friend’s chest. I wouldn’t just dirty Lady Natasha’s dress, I’d throw up all over it.

“It wasn’t her heart,” Kieran groaned from his cell. “It was a deer heart.”

“Shut up,” I shot back. “I don’t know if I’m talking to you yet.” I touched Solange’s shoulder. She was cool and covered in mud. “Solange?”

“It’s the bloodchange.”

“I said shut up,” I tossed over my shoulder. “I know what it is, she’s my best friend, isn’t she?” I narrowed my eyes. “And you look like shit.”

“Arm’s broken,” he agreed. He looked gray, hollowed. “Hope killed my dad.”

“I told you it wasn’t the Drakes.” I wrinkled my nose. I could hear my dad in my head, going on about compassion. “And I’m sorry. Not that I don’t still want to wring your neck.”

“I had to be believable, for all the good it did. Hope’s up there. She gave me away.”

“Want me to break her nose?”

“Hell, yes.”

“I’ll add it to my list.”

“What are you and Nicholas doing here anyway?”

“Hope,” I told him. “She escaped and sent her unit in to take over the farm house.

Nicholas and I made it out. We were hoping to warn his parents off but we couldn’t find them. And they’re still out there looking for Solange.”

“I’m sure they’re here or near enough anyway. They don’t strike me as the type to stay out of the action for long.”

“That’s true,” I said, buoyed. I turned back to Solange. “Thank God, she’s alive.

When she wakes up I’m going to kill her.” I brushed her hair back. “If you can hear me, Sol, you better come through this. I know you can do it. Your namby brothers did it, so you can, too.” I draped my discarded sweater over her. “What the hell was she doing, anyway?” I asked Kieran.

“She was running away.”

“No way.”

“We found Hyacinth.”

My heart dropped. “Is she . . . ?”

“She should survive, if they got her home quickly enough.”

“Assuming there’s still a home, of course. Hope’s got it in her cross hairs.” He shifted, swore when he bumped his arm. I tossed him my belt since I wasn’t sure he’d be able to get his own off. Nicholas was still lying in a heap in the corner.

“Here, set your arm.”

“Thanks.” Sweat beaded his forehead as he worked to wrap the belt around his shoulder. He looked like he knew what he was doing. “Do a lot of battlefield medicine, do you?”

“You’ve met the Drakes.”

“Good point.”