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  “It’s a little disconcerting,” Logan warned me. “Hell, when it happened to me the first time, I thought someone had slipped me drugs.”

  I nodded. “I can do this.” I took a deep breath and muttered Mom’s mantra. Logan sat where he was, a sword balanced across his knees. He stayed focused, guarding us.

  At first nothing happened. I took deep breaths, as my butt got numb from the cold ground. I breathed some more. And then it was like the pendant Isabeau gave me started to heat up, slowly, then like an ember cradled over my belly button.

  “Open your eyes,” Isabeau murmured. “Lucy.”

  “I don’t feel any different. I don’t think it worked.” I opened my eyes, disappointed. “Whoa.”

  Isabeau was standing in front of me, and yet I could see right through her to where her body was still sitting among the tree roots. Charlemagne sniffed me, then put his chin on his paws. The edges of the branches and the dog bones glittered. Logan’s sword was so bright it was hard to look at. The world had been bleached to bone and then certain areas painted with carnival colors. Even I was glowing faintly.

  “Why am I pink?” I held up my hand, looked right through it. It made me feel really weird. “I look like bubble gum.”

  “It’s your aura,” Isabeau replied.

  “My aura’s cotton-candy pink? Dude. That’s embarrassing.”

  “Come, we haven’t much time.”

  I stood up, feeling all floaty and lightheaded. My boots hovered just above the ground. I could feel the wind, but not the cold bite of it through my clothes. And the hot pulse of the amulet burned, shooting sparks.

  “Um, is it supposed to do that?”

  “Think of Nicholas. Think of him as hard as you can.”

  I hadn’t done much else in days so that part was easy. I imagined his tousled dark hair, his serious smile, and the way he looked at me just before he was going to kiss me. I saw his favorite black tie, the photo of us on his desk, the winter-storm gray of his eyes. I visualized him so intensely, so completely, that the sparks whirling off the amulet like a Catherine Wheel stuck together. They clung to each other until they’d formed an outline, his outline. His shoulders, his tall lean body, the gleam of his fangs.

  I reached out a trembling hand to touch him because I couldn’t help myself. My fingertips dragged through the sparks, and they came apart like fireflies. I snatched my fingers back, but he was already gone. The tiny floating lights shot away from us, between the boughs.

  “Viens.”

  Isabeau grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the tiny grove. We half ran, half flew through the forest, following the trajectory of the streaking lights. They took us over a swamp, around massive red oaks, through a herd of sleeping deer. A buck lifted his head, antlers pale as butter.

  The sparks turned red, like embers. They swirled in a whirlwind, hovering over a flock of bats. Beneath them, Solange and Constantine sniffed the air and searched the undergrowth for prints. Isabeau shot me a curious look.

  “Nicholas!” I ordered the sparks, hearing the deep velvet of his voice, his dry laugh, the sweet way he had of saying my name when we said good night. A few of the sparks stayed where they were, the rest continued to fly between the trees. They led us to the mountains, which wasn’t surprising. They fell apart drifting through the stone. Caves glowed briefly, as if candles had been lit inside.

  “What does it mean?” I asked Isabeau frantically. “Where is he?”

  “In a cave.”

  “Which one?”

  She looked sad, annoyed. “I don’t know.”

  A few trailing sparks found one another, like static. They flared brightly once, burning Nicholas’s face into my eyes. I blinked, the afterimage of him blinking back at me. When they faded, the light had a blue tint, smearing everything with indigo and turquoise and lavender. I blinked. She swore in French. “We must go. Your body is pulling you back.”

  “No! Not yet!”

  She grabbed my hand again. “Now, Lucy.”

  “No!” I struggled. She just spun me around and yanked on the chain of the amulet. It came away in her hand, and I felt myself being sucked back, the trees blurring in the wrong direction, colors smearing into a hundred shades of blue.

  I landed in my body, as if I were cliff diving. I gasped loudly, then pushed up, groaning. “Ouch.” The tip of my nose and my cheeks were numb. My left foot was asleep.

  Isabeau sat up, smiling triumphantly. I scowled. “Why are you smiling? We didn’t find him!”

  “No, but did you see the way sparks flashed briefly into his silhouette? At the end, by the caves?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “So,” she explained. “Now we know he’s alive.”

  Logan and I both stared at her for a long moment, afraid to believe her.

  “He’s alive?” I asked in a small voice. “You’re sure?”

  She nodded, touched Logan’s hand. “I’m sure.”

  Relief made me giggle through the tears, and if it had a slightly hysteric tinge, no one commented on it. Logan was too busy grinning just as idiotically.

  Isabeau just looked at us, calmly, as if we were nuts.

  Chapter 26

  Solange

  Saturday night, 8:00 p.m.

  I paced the Bower, wanting to hiss at everyone and everything. We still hadn’t found Nicholas. I was still fighting with my family. I was still fighting with myself, conscious of red-soaked needs I couldn’t articulate.

  The others lounged about, drinking from glass bottles and arguing over politics. I didn’t care about politics. But I was beginning to wonder if it was the only way to get things done.

  Constantine motioned Penelope and two guys out of the shadows around the outdoor salon. They came willingly, as always. My fangs poked into my lips.

  Spencer, who’d been sprawled on a couch, sat up frowning. “Bloodslaves?” he asked.

  I just shrugged and looked away.

  “Not cool,” he added. He shook his head before he left the clearing.

  Marigold reached for a lollipop then followed, tossing me a careless smile. “Sorry, princess, but he’s cuter.”

  I just sighed. I felt too big for my body, like it was too crowded inside my head. I wanted blood. I wanted to be left alone. I wanted to march into the Blood Moon camp and demand they all go out and search for my brother.

  I can help you do that. I can help you find your brother. But you have to help me first.

  I paused, bats dipping out of the treetops.

  Nicholas had risked his life again and again for me. I’d damned well do the same for him. Even if I had to take down the entire Chandramaa and Blood Moon encampment to do it.

  But there was only one way to do that.

  Despite our differences, I felt sure my mother would agree. That made it a little easier.

  A little, but not much.

  Constantine must have seen something in my expression because he stepped closer. “What is it?”

  “Vampires have been going missing. My brother’s missing. Only another vampire could do that, in this place, under our noses, right?”

  “Probably. Or at least someone working with one.”

  “So, in all likelihood, that same vampire, or vampires, are at the Blood Moon camp right now. They know what’s happened to Nicholas. And they’re getting away with it.”

  Constantine smiled slowly and bent to drag his mouth along my neck. I shivered. “What do you propose, princess?”

  “A coup.” Something in me stirred, like embers busting into flames. I felt hot all over, burning from the inside. The soft female voice purred like a cat. Yes. When we are queen everything will be better. I promise this.

  Constantine laughed, softly, darkly. “Finally.”

  “No one gets hurt.”

  “I can’t promise that.” He said it gently, but his violet eyes gleamed fiercely.

  Your family is weak. They only bring you down, want to make you submit and kneel. We’re better than that.
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  “My family doesn’t get hurt,” I amended.

  “That seems perfectly reasonable,” he agreed. “When?”

  “Now.” Before I talked myself out of it. Before word got out. Before Nicholas ran out of time entirely. “It’s the first night of the ceremonies. We go in fast.”

  “Then you’ll need blood,” Constantine said.

  Yes, more blood.

  Who are you? I asked.

  Viola.

  What are you?

  Your friend.

  Constantine snapped his fingers and Penelope tripped over herself to get to us. She was looking a little pale. I should drink from somebody else. But I couldn’t worry about that right now. She pushed her sleeves up. I drank as Constantine went to talk to his men, still lurking protectively around the Bower. Nerves and anticipation danced in my belly. Once the live blood hit my system, I felt like I could take on the world.

  Let me out.

  Constantine waited with the others. Elijah elected to stay behind. Everyone else was with us. It was a little daunting. Or would have been, if I weren’t intoxicated on blood. Right now it felt like a game, and, at the same time, as if I were fulfilling some higher purpose. It was heady, invigorating. Terrifying.

  Constantine’s guards had a lot of weapons.

  And a map of the encampment.

  “You knew this would happen,” I said, strapping on extra stakes and daggers.

  “I prepared for the possibility,” he said. “The prophecy says you will be queen. And so you shall.”

  “When dragon fights dragon,” I quoted softly to myself again.

  “What’s that?”

  “Nothing. Never mind.”

  Constantine pointed to an area of the map. “This is the only field large enough for the crowning ceremony. Your mother gets officially recognized as queen tonight.” He looked up at the moon and the length of the shadows it cast on the newly snow-dusted ground. “Within the hour. We have to hurry.”

  “Bruno will be with them. The rest of his crew will be out searching for Nicholas. There’ll only be a couple left to guard the Bower.” I let my pheromones waft like perfume, imagined the heat waves of lily-scented compulsion reaching everyone. “No one gets staked. Drakes are off-limits. Understand?”

  They nodded mechanically. Constantine just tilted his head. “That’s not necessary, love.”

  “It is to me. The bats should keep us covered from Chandramaa fire.” Penelope’s blood danced inside me. I felt feverish, strong, confident. “Let’s go.”

  Let me out.

  We marched out, trailing bats like Aunt Hyacinth’s mourning veils. Bruno’s men dropped the minute I got close enough to compel them. They didn’t stir, even as we filed past them. I didn’t even glance at them, just focused on what had to be done next.

  The bats thickened around us as we crossed into Blood Moon territory. Arrows bit into the ground around us. A bat squeaked, pinned to an oak tree. A dagger hit one of the motorcycles outside Duncan’s garage tent, clanging. A warning whistle ululated over the treetops. It was too late for that. I was prepared for this sort of plan and attack. Ironically, prepared by my own family on the best way to take them out.

  I could hear drums and smell smoke and blood. Someone cheered. The tents were mostly deserted, except for the odd bloodslave who watched us with wide, fearful eyes. A dog barked. A vampire went flying into a pole when she tried to stop the first of the Bower guards. Her gold-embroidered sari caught the light. Three muscular Joiik men with long blond hair cut us off and were taken down. A vampire wearing the Chandramaa crest got through three of our numbers, reaching me. He wasn’t real Chandramaa, since he let us see his face. And his eyes.

  Big mistake.

  I stopped, smiled. Pheromones flung from me like daggers. He paused, confused. I kicked him between the legs and he collapsed, wheezing. I stepped over him, Constantine offering me his hand like an old-fashioned gentleman helping a lady across a muddy street.

  The field was ringed with torches and various tribes. Isabeau stood with Kala and the other Hounds. Their dogs growled and snarled at us. Lucy’s cousin Christabel stood with Saga and Aidan, looking nervous. Saga held a Hel-Blar on a chain, wearing a copper collar and clacking his jaws.

  In the center there was a small mound, where my family stood. My brothers looked impatient. Even London was there, bandaged and wan. Madame Veronique looked haughty and cold, as always. She was the first of the Drakes to see me. She was part of this somehow and I didn’t trust her. Not anymore. Neither did Viola; I could tell by the frigid dip in her voice.

  Let me out.

  Murmurs preceded us, like wind on water. I could barely hear it over the rush of blood in my ears, the sound of self-satisfied laughter in my head. I shook my head, willing it away. The bats lifted, leaving us vulnerable for a moment, then lowered again.

  The drums stopped.

  “Solange?” My mother stepped forward; the pearls-and garnet-encrusted crown dangled from her fingers. My brothers reached for their weapons. It made me sick to see it, but I couldn’t turn back now. Vampires moved out of our way as we approached. Bats and sword points made them step even farther back.

  “Oh, crap,” Connor muttered. “She’s going Darth Vader on us.”

  I climbed up onto the mound. Madame Veronique came at me, but with a flick of my wrist, bats attacked her, tangling in her hair, going for her eyes. Aunt Hyacinth twitched her veils closer to her face.

  “Someone here knows where Nicholas is,” I said coldly. “It’s the only explanation.”

  “You don’t think we know that?” Duncan snapped. Blood Moon ceremony or not, he was still wearing jeans. “That we don’t have a plan?”

  He thinks you’re a useless little girl. He has no idea what you can do. What we can do.

  I pressed one hand to my ear. The voice was stronger now, nearly corporeal. My arm dropped. I wasn’t even sure if I was in control of my movements. Or my voice. “It’s time I used all this power inside me. Time I stopped fighting this prophecy and finally used it to my advantage.”

  Mom didn’t look away from me. She lifted the crown. “I would never fight you for something like this,” she said. “You’re my daughter.”

  “Mom,” I said, voice strangled. Why couldn’t they see that this wasn’t me? That I was trying to stop myself, trying to save them.

  Sebastian reached for his sword.

  He would betray you, cut you down even though you are his sister. Traitor!

  She wanted him dead, wanted his ashes in the dirt under my boots. Our boots. It was too confusing. The bats descended on Sebastian. His hands bled in rivulets when he covered his face, until Quinn threw one of the decorative shields at me to stop me. I wished he’d hit me with it. But I ducked, or Viola did.

  “Don’t,” I begged, but to whom, I wasn’t sure. “Beware the royal daughter…”

  They have to pay. Let me out, Solange. Let me out!

  I exuded pheromones as hard as I could. “Kneel.” I gagged on the word, tried to clamp my lips shut together. No, Viola, please no.

  My family members all knelt, struggling fruitlessly. Bats dipped and whipped over the heads of the other vampires, forcing them down on their knees as well. Constantine was the only one who remained standing, at my side, the air currents from so many bat wings whipping his hair about. My own lifted like silky black snakes, hovered.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  I snatched the crown out of Mom’s hands.

  The moment it touched my head, my hair lifted higher, the bats screamed, and a wall of power exploded out of me, knocking everyone flat.

  Chapter 27

  Lucy

  Saturday night, 9:30 p.m.

  “Don’t be a wuss, Lucy.”

  “Hello to you too,” I said as I picked my way through the prickly remains of a cornfield at the edge of Megan’s family farm because I’d promised Nathan I’d show my face at Megan’s party. I was wearing one of Logan’s old frock coats t
hat he’d outgrown, over a white slip dress with lace at the hem and jeans. Cows mooed grumpily from the comfort of the barn. A light dusting of snow covered everything from the iron weathervane to the dead chrysanthemum on the border of a pumpkin patch. Jenna and Tyson were with me, moving with the stealth and grace you’d expect from a couple of young vampire hunters. Only they were here as fellow “art students” today. And Tyson was here under duress. I’d bribed him with an essay. I wasn’t really in the mood for a party but it was the only way to get out from under adult scrutiny for a few hours. And it appeased my school counselor.

  And it might give me a chance to do some scouting in the area.

  My boots crunched loudly as I left the lawn for the scraggly woods. I hadn’t been here in three years, but I knew there was a field on the other side. All I had to do was follow the flickering light of bonfires and the noise.

  “Where are you?” Nathan asked. “You said you’d be here. I don’t care if there’s snow.”

  “I’m here, you lunatic.”

  “I don’t believe you.” He was pouting. Nathan didn’t pout unless he meant it.

  “I can hear MJ DJing again,” I said to placate him. “She always plays the worst music no one can dance to.”

  “You are here!” Nathan exclaimed before he hung up on me.

  Climbing over a sagging wire fence bristling with ice and rust, I could smell the wood smoke when the wind shifted. The bonfires crackled and snapped invitingly as my old classmates milled around them wearing thick scarves and mittens. It was way too cold for a backfield party, but since it was the last one of the year, no one complained. Until spring the parties would have to be in basements and living rooms, too close to adult supervision for any real fun.

  Megan’s parents had a profitable working farm; they weren’t selling crystals and homemade pickles and plowing snow in the winter to make ends meet the way mine did. Mom talked about this farm all the time. Apparently Megan’s grandmother grew the best squash. I hated squash. Regardless, Megan’s parents let her have parties out here when they were out of town. Possibly, they didn’t know about them.