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Page 4


  “She’s a guest,” Logan snapped. Lucy crouched next to him, looking sympathetic. Charlemagne didn’t move. A drop of his saliva hit my neck.

  “I know it sucks, Isabeau,” Lucy said. “Kieran did it to me two weeks ago.”

  “Shit,” he muttered. “You guys had me tied to a chair.”

  Lucy waved her hand like that was hardly a good enough excuse. “Whatever.” She turned back to me. “You’ll feel normal again in a few minutes. Promise.” She really meant what she said, I could smell the truth of it on her even if I wasn’t entirely convinced.

  I couldn’t stand the way they were all just staring at me. I knew what I must look like in my battle leathers and scars and double fangs and my angry dog by my side. I was proud of being Kala’s handmaiden, of being a Hound, but the rest of the vampire tribes clearly didn’t see us the same way.

  “Let’s give her some space,” Logan said quietly, as if he knew what I was thinking. “I’ll stay here. Why don’t the rest of you wait in the living room.”

  “Are you sure?” Solange asked.

  “I don’t think she’ll be too happy when she comes out of it,” Kieran added doubtfully.

  “Just go on,” Logan nearly sighed.

  When they left it was marginally less awful. I would have preferred to be completely alone. The thought of Logan seeing me at my weakest didn’t thrill me. But still, there was a certain kind of comfort to his presence, which made no sense since we’d just met. Must be another effect of the Hypnos.

  I tried to move again, but couldn’t. I was able to speak though, which was a relief. It must be starting to fade. “Charlemagne,” I croaked. “Ça va.”

  He sat on my foot, unconvinced but obedient. Logan stayed where he was.

  “Do you want me to carry you upstairs to your room?” he asked.

  “No,” I said witheringly. I wasn’t a delicate flower, I’d survived the Revolution and being buried for over two hundred years. I could handle ten more minutes lying on the floor. It had better not take longer than ten minutes. Though I couldn’t remember exactly what it was like to lie in a coffin, I imagined it felt a little like this. I was glad I’d blocked it out, or lain comatose for centuries. Sweat gathered under my hair, cold on the back of my neck. It took a lot to make a vampire sweat. My expression must have been wild, because Logan cursed.

  “This isn’t how we meant to introduce you to our family. I hope you won’t hold it against us for too long. The hunter is a little exuberant. He’s not used to us yet either.”

  I snorted as control over my voice finally returned. “I can’t believe a Helios-Ra hunter feels he can just walk through the front door.”

  “He and Solange have gotten … close.”

  “Does she have a death wish? We didn’t save her to hand her over to the likes of them.”

  He shook his head, his tousled hair falling over his pale forehead. “He … loves her. Well, he’s crushing on her anyway.”

  I didn’t know the term but I understood its meaning well enough. I sighed. “I thought she’d be smarter.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “She’s plenty smart.” He looked thoughtful. “You don’t believe in love then?”

  “No.” I wanted to look away, couldn’t. “I don’t know.”

  His smile was decidedly rakish. I’d seen its like on young aristocrats at my uncle’s house. I tried to ignore it. I flexed my toes but wasn’t able to do much more.

  When the front door opened both Charlemagne and I tensed. I struggled to sit up, to reach for a weapon, any weapon. Logan rose and stood between me and the new arrivals. The four who burst in had to be his brothers, the physical similarities were too pronounced. Charlemagne growled, standing up again. They stopped mid-conversation, stared at the wild girl prostrate on the marbles.

  I ground my teeth. This was hardly the way to foster respect for my tribe.

  “Logan,” one of them drawled. “Your technique’s slipping if you need dogs to keep them from running away.”

  “Very funny, Quinn,” Logan muttered. “This is Isabeau.”

  They froze each to a one, staring.

  “Isabeau, my brothers: Quinn, Marcus, Connor, and Duncan. Sebastian’s still at the caves.”

  “Un plaisir,” I said dryly. My Hounds training might not have prepared me to be gracious under any circumstance, but my aristocratic upbringing had.

  “Nice to meet you.” Connor blinked. “Why are you on the floor?”

  “Hypnos,” I said.

  Quinn snorted. “Dude, Hypnos and dogs? I thought you were the one who was supposed to be good with the girls, Darcy?” I recognized the nickname; I’d read voraciously once I’d grown accustomed to my new body and appetites. I’d needed to grow accustomed to hundreds of years of history as well.

  “Shut up,” Logan said. “Kieran blew Hypnos on her.”

  Quinn bared his fangs. “Why the hell did he do that?”

  “Well, to be fair, she did try to kick him in the head.”

  Quinn grinned at me. “I like you already.”

  I tried to push myself up again. I couldn’t lie there for another second while they stared at me curiously. I was too anxious to be able to retract my double fangs. If I’d been human, I would have been hyperventilating by now. Logan glanced at me, cursed.

  “I’m taking you upstairs,” he muttered. “Call off your dog,” he added, scooping me up into his arms. Charlemagne was right there, pressed at Logan’s knee.

  “Ça va,” I whispered, even if I wasn’t sure I entirely believed it. Charlemagne trotted by our side as Logan climbed the stairs, carrying me lightly and easily. I was mortified and grateful. The conflicting emotions didn’t make the present situation any easier to handle.

  “I know you said you didn’t want me to do this,” he whispered. “But it’s better than all my brothers cracking jokes over your head, right?”

  I nodded because I didn’t trust my voice. The fact that I could move my head enough to agree with him was heartening. He noticed the small movement.

  “Any minute now,” he promised.

  The second floor of the house smelled even more like smoke and water. The far wall was faintly scorched. He followed my gaze.

  “Hope,” he said succinctly.

  Hope had led a rogue unit of the Helios-Ra who’d kidnapped Solange and tried to burn down her parents’ farm. It had only been a week ago at most and the damage was still visible.

  Logan took me down a hall and kicked a door open to a guest room. The windows had thick wooden shutters with strong iron locks on the inside. There was a narrow writing desk and a padded chair by a fireplace. The mahogany bed was huge and soft-looking, with a small discreet fridge by the end table. I knew it would be stocked with blood. I was still young enough to need to feed immediately upon waking, something all the Drake children must also be dealing with. It raised my opinion of their hosting capabilities so far, drastically.

  Logan laid me gently down on the bed, leaning so close that I could see the flecks of darker green in his irises. I swallowed.

  “I feel like I know you,” he murmured. “Is that weird?”

  I didn’t know what to say. Charlemagne hopped up to lie next to me on the quilt, breaking the moment before I could find a reply. Logan stepped back.

  “I’ll leave you alone,” he said. “When Lucy came out of the Hypnos she broke Nicholas’s nose. I’d wager you have a stronger swing and I happen to like my nose exactly where it is. No one will disturb you,” he added fiercely. “Come down whenever you’re ready. I’ll be waiting.”

  He bowed. “Mademoiselle.”

  The door shut very quietly behind him. When I could hear by his footsteps that he was down the stairs and out of earshot, I allowed myself a very small sigh. Charlemagne tilted his head curiously.

  “This isn’t going at all according to plan,” I told him.

  CHAPTER 4

  LOGAN

  My brothers are idiots.

  Anyone can see that unde
r the scars and the attitude, Isabeau is more fragile than she looks. And as a reclusive Hound princess, her first introduction to the royal family shouldn’t be a dose of Hypnos and four idiots gawking at her.

  If I’d managed not to gawk, they sure as hell could have. She was beautiful, fierce, and utterly unlike anyone I’d ever known.

  It was really hard not to gawk.

  Much better to pace outside her door with one of our Bouviers sitting at the top of the stairs watching me curiously.

  “This sucks, Boudicca,” I told her. “I don’t think we inherited Dad’s diplomacy.”

  She laid her chin on her paws. I could have sworn she rolled her eyes.

  I hovered by Isabeau’s door for another fifteen minutes until I started feeling like a stalker. Solange came down the hall from her room and met me at the staircase.

  “She’ll be fine, Logan.”

  “I know.”

  She tilted her head. “Did you change your shirt?”

  “No.”

  “You totally did.” She grinned. “Too bad your girlfriend tried to kill my boyfriend.”

  I snorted. “Too bad he dosed her with drugs. And she’s not my girlfriend. I just met her. And lower your voice, would you?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

  “Shut up, princess.” I mock-glowered at her. She narrowed her eyes at the term “princess.”

  “I will dye all your pirate shirts pink,” she threatened.

  I just grinned. “I’d still make them look good.”

  She paused on the landing, her expression turning serious. “Is it true an assassin tried to stake Mom?”

  “Who told you that?”

  She poked my shoulder. Hard.

  “Ow,” I said, rubbing the bruise. “What was that for?”

  “For thinking I’m dumb and avoiding giving me an answer.”

  “I don’t think you’re dumb.”

  “Then stop trying to shield me, Logan.”

  “No.”

  She made a sound of frustration in the back of her throat.

  I sighed. “Fine. Yes. Some girl tried to stake Mom. No one was hurt.”

  “Montmartre?”

  “Yeah, she wore his insignia.” I hated to admit it. Especially when her face went hard and her eyes flat. “But she staked herself before we could get any answers.”

  “Damn it.” She slapped the wall, rattling the crystal chandelier above us. “He’s trying to make me queen by killing Mom.”

  “Looks like,” I admitted. I slung an arm over her shoulder. “But it’s not going to happen.”

  She rubbed her arms as if she were cold. Vampires didn’t really get cold, so it was more habit than necessity. “I hope you’re right, Logan.”

  “I’m always right.”

  She chuckled, which is what I’d intended. “Careful, you’ll be as vain as Quinn soon.”

  “No one’s as vain as Quinn,” Lucy said from the bottom of the stairs. She was carrying a mug of hot chocolate and a handful of cookies. Taking advantage of her stay with us, she was gorging herself on white sugar and junk food. She had more issues with her mom’s tofu casserole than the fact that everyone currently around her drank blood.

  “Where’s everybody?” I asked. A fire popped in the hearth but the living room was empty. So was the kitchen.

  “Fixing the wall outside,” Lucy replied.

  The north side of the farmhouse was a mess of scorched and water-damaged logs. The wraparound porch had taken the brunt of the attack when Hope busted out of the guest room and returned with the rest of her crazy rogue Helios-Ra agents. Bruno spent so much time in the home-improvement stores since then muttering his bewilderment at us on his cell phone that we’d started hearing “noises” in the woods so he’d stay home and patrol the perimeters. Hope had a lot to answer for. So did Montmartre. It really sucked that we hadn’t gotten a chance to make them pay horribly and at great length. Defeating their plans didn’t seem to be enough. A little vengeance might have been nice, regardless of what Dad said in his “rebuilding stronger” speeches. Truth be told, we were all just glad Solange had survived the bloodchange and the various attempts to abduct or kill her.

  I was really glad not to be sixteen anymore.

  Because being sixteen in our family just plain bites.

  “I guess I should help them out,” I said reluctantly. Manual labor was brutal on the wardrobe.

  “Hell, yes, you should,” Nicholas called out, emerging from the basement with an extra toolbox and a saw. Lucy grinned at him as he hauled the back door open.

  “Tool belt,” she said, licking hot chocolate off her lip. “Yum.”

  The wind shifted and I could smell the warm blood moving under her skin. We all could. Nicholas took a step back, looking vaguely pained.

  She frowned at him. “What’s the matter with you? You look nauseous.”

  “I’m fine,” he said through his teeth. “Stay inside. It’s not safe.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Quit fretting. It’s perfectly safe, there’s all of you and like a gazillion guards.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he muttered, easing outside into the shadows to busy himself at a pile of cut logs. Tension made the tendons on the back of his neck strain. Lucy stared after him for a long moment before closing the door behind him.

  I followed him, grabbing a stainless-steel thermos filled with blood from the cooler on the deck. I tossed it at him. He caught it and turned away to drink. It wasn’t easy for a young vampire to resist the taste of fresh human blood. It was even more difficult when your new girlfriend was staying at your house while you struggled to tame the biting thirst. Now that Solange was newly turned, she had started to sit at the opposite end of the room and Lucy had been forced to move into one of the guest rooms, with a lock inside the door. We’d grown up with her and would never intentionally hurt her, but a young vampire was more animal than human in those waking moments after the sun went down. It was some sort of biological imperative. Our bodies forced us to drink what our brains would rebel against. Otherwise, we’d die.

  “Hey, man, you’re doing good,” I told him quietly as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “She doesn’t get it,” he said. “Not really.”

  “She gets it more than anyone else ever could.”

  “Still.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “Still.”

  Quinn, Connor, Marcus, and Duncan were ripping off the parts of the logs that were unsalvageable. I grabbed a hammer and tried not to be so aware of Isabeau inside the house.

  Nicholas ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “When did this all get so complicated?”

  “Girls are always complicated,” I told him. “You know that.”

  He half smiled. “Some more than others.”

  I thought of the scars on Isabeau’s arms and the haunted look in her eye. “Got that right.”

  We got to work, mostly following Duncan’s lead because he almost had a clue as to how to fix a wall. When we needed plaster for some reason I couldn’t quite fathom, I went out to the garage to find some. On my way back, I paused, goose bumps suddenly lifting.

  A noise in the woods.

  Something quiet, subtle.

  And unwelcome.

  I couldn’t alert my brothers without alerting whoever was lurking in the woods as well. I set down the bucket of plaster dust and doubled back toward the front door and woods on the other side of the lane. I peered into the shifting shadows of the rosebushes and cedar trees. The faint moonlight glinted off the Jeep in the driveway. The lamps burned softly at the windows. I smelled roses, newly cut oak logs, blood, and lilies.

  Lilies were never a good sign.

  Montmartre smelled like lilies. And while I doubted he was loitering in the woods outside our farmhouse, I had no problem believing he’d sent minions to do his dirty work.

  He was after Solange again, just as she’d said.

  He want
ed her to be queen, as the old prophecy claimed, and more importantly, he wanted her to be his queen. He thought he could rule in her place, using her as a figurehead. And after tonight, he apparently thought if he took Mom out of the picture, Solange would fall in line.

  He so didn’t get Drake women.

  And he really needed staking.

  I was happy to oblige … if he would just stand still long enough.

  CHAPTER 5

  Isabeau

  When the Hypnos powder finally wore off, it was quick as summer lightning. I reared up as if I’d been jolted full of electricity. Charlemagne barked once and I laughed out loud. The ability to control my limbs again was intoxicating. I felt as giddy as a debutante at her first ball. Even the cell phone vibrating in my pocket didn’t bother me.

  “Magda.” I grinned into the receiver. No one else would be calling me.

  “Isabeau? Is that you?” Magda demanded.

  “Of course, who else would it be?” I stretched to make sure I could. Then I did a backflip somersault.

  “Are you giggling?” she asked incredulously. “What did they do to you?”

  “Hypnos.”

  There was a pause, a choked cough. “And that’s funny why?”

  “It’s not,” I assured her. “But it’s just worn off.”

  “Are you in trouble? What are they doing to you? Don’t they know you’re a princess, or whatever? I’m getting Finn.”

  “No!” I stopped her before she could get going. “I’m fine. It was an accident.”

  “Are you sure?” she pressed suspiciously. “They’re not like us, Isabeau.”

  “I know,” I said. “Believe me. Even their humans are odd.” Even though I hadn’t met many humans since I’d been pulled out of the grave, I was fairly certain Lucy was unique.

  “They have humans there?”

  “A girl. And some guards.”

  “Did you taste her?”

  “I don’t think they’d like that.” I could just picture the look on Nicholas’s face.