My Love Lies Bleeding Page 8

  “You don’t want to be queen?”

  “No,” I said emphatically. “I don’t. Look, I’m the first girl born to the House of Drake. That’s all. It’s only a big deal because of people like you. I didn’t ask for this.”

  “Then don’t let them turn you into a vampire.”

  “Oh, sure, she’ll just die instead,” Lucy said waspishly. “Nice plan.”

  He blinked at me. “You really would? That’s not a myth about the ancient families?”

  “No, it’s not a myth. And I really don’t want my family being hunted because of me. Can’t you do anything?” I wasn’t sure why I was asking him for help; I only knew that we really had no other options. I had to do something and this was it. Problem was, he didn’t look entirely convinced. “If you really believe we should be hunted down, why don’t you just kill me now?” I took a step closer to him, opening my arms.

  “Don’t be stupid.” He took a startled step back, as if I was the one covered in weapons.

  “Why not? It’s what you do, isn’t it?”

  “It’s not like that. Besides, you’re human. Mostly.”

  “For now. Does that mean you’ll kill me after my birthday?”

  “No! Maybe. I don’t know. I just want to find the one who killed my dad.”

  “You were so convinced it was one of us.” I stepped even closer, could see the way his pupils dilated.

  “Solange,” Lucy said nervously.

  I didn’t look away from Kieran. “So go ahead.”

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Nicholas stalked out of the woods, fuming. I was half- surprised smoke wasn’t coming out of his ears. Kieran reached for one of the stakes on his belt.

  “Don’t,” I said, stepping in front of him. “Please.”

  “Solange, get inside,” Nicholas ordered through his teeth, forcibly lifting Lucy up off the ground and setting her out of his way when she tried to stop him. She clung to his arm like a monkey.

  “We know what we’re doing,” she insisted, her feet dragging in the long grass. “Stop it, Nicholas.”

  “We won’t bother you again,” I told Kieran, and for some reason my voice came out sounding sad. I turned away from him. “Nick, let’s go.”

  I marched across the field knowing Nicholas would follow me, no matter how much he wanted to hang around to punch Kieran.

  I didn’t look back to see what Kieran was doing.

  Logan was in the back garden when we got back to the house.

  “I knew something was up with you two,” he said, seething.

  “They had a secret date with Kieran frigging Black,” Nicholas informed him stonily.

  “Oh, it wasn’t like that,” Lucy retorted. “Give me a break.”

  “What is wrong with you?” Logan’s mouth dropped open. I pushed past him to go inside and then wished I hadn’t. Quinn, Connor, Marcus, and Duncan were waiting in the sunroom, and each of them started yelling at once. Lucy winced, stepping up beside me.

  “She’s fine,” she said. “She’s fine!” She yelled at the top of her lungs. My brothers paused. The sudden silence was broken by a bell ringing from the basement. Quinn and Connor took off at a run. By the time we stepped into the hall toward the kitchen, they were already leading someone up the steps.

  “London,” I said in surprise. She was a distant cousin and we rarely saw her. She was slim and pale and looked just like her name, with black hair so sleek it always looked as if she’d been walking in the rain. There were silver studs in her ears, seventeen at last count, one in her nose, and another in her left eyebrow. She wore tight black clothing, as always. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “You’ve been summoned.”

  “Our parents aren’t here,” I said.

  “I know,” she replied. “It’s not your parents who’ve been summoned, only you.”

  “By who?”

  “Madame Veronique.”

  I stepped back. “I don’t want to go.”

  “You can’t exactly refuse.”

  “Why does she want to see me?” Veronique never saw any of us before the bloodchange. Ever.

  “Why do you think?” London’s fangs were out, not because she was angry— she was always angry— but because she refused to be anything but what she was. She sneered at Lucy. It was a constant source of irritation that Lucy was mostly immune to her pheromones. “That has to stay here.” London didn’t approve of Lucy, never had. She thought mortals were too fragile for friendship, for the strength required to carry our secret. And she hated that she’d been every bit as mortal as Lucy before she was turned three years ago.

  “As if I want to hang around you for a single second longer than absolutely necessary,” Lucy snapped. I knew she was lying; she’d been desperate to get a look at Veronique for years now. Under the bravado and temper she was disappointed. Her pulse must have sped up, because London smirked. Nicholas licked his lips.

  Marcus whistled between his teeth. “Bad luck, Sol. Veronique’s terrifying.”

  Lucy stomped on his foot. “You’re not helping.”

  “Why’d she send you?” Quinn frowned at London. “You’re still one of Lady Natasha’s ladies-in-waiting, aren’t you?”

  She nodded stiffly. Her divided loyalties were a sore spot with everyone. “I serve Veronique first, like everyone else in our family.”

  “That doesn’t explain why she sent you.”

  “Because Veronique isn’t the only one who’s summoned Solange. Lady Natasha has too. Once Veronique heard Solange was being called to the royal court, she wanted the first visit.”

  “Crap.” My eyes widened. “Both of them? Tonight?”

  “Solange can’t go now,” Nicholas said. “It isn’t safe.”

  London quirked an eyebrow. “You know as well as I do that it isn’t a request. Just be grateful I was already in the area so Lady Nastasha didn’t need to send one of her Araksaka boys.” The Araksaka were feared. Every single one of them wore Lady Natasha’s royal tattoo on their faces. They were her private army and answered only to her. Ever. And they were utterly ruthless about it; not only killing but torturing as well.

  “Hell,” Quinn muttered.

  “Fine.” I wiped my hands off on my pants. “Let’s get this over with.”

  London shook her head. “You are not going dressed like that.” I blinked down at my T-shirt and cargos, which only had one smear of dried clay on the cuff. “You’d be laughed out of the Hall. And Lady Natasha’d be insulted, having granted you a temporary reprieve from exile. Not to mention what Veronique would do.”

  “Shouldn’t have exiled the Drakes in the first place,” Lucy muttered.

  “She had to, because of the prophecy. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Give me a break.” Lucy visibly bristled at the disdain in London’s voice. “I probably know more about your own history than you do. The prophecy was recorded during the reign of Henry the Eighth, after he cut off Anne Boleyn’s head. Some old madwoman in Scotland went into a trance and babbled about a blood-born Drake woman ruling over the tribes, and when Solange was born you all freaked out about it, including Lady Natasha.” She looked proud of herself. “See? I totally get it. Although, I don’t get why she’s not Queen Natasha instead of Lady Natasha? Wouldn’t that make more sense?”

  “She hasn’t had a coronation,” Logan explained. “She’s technically not queen, because we technically don’t have queens. We have autonomous tribes and civil wars and a love of tradition.”

  “So what’s the big deal about Solange stealing her crown then? If it’s all semantics?”

  “The tribes are letting Lady Natasha play queen because she used to be part of the Host and she knows their ways. And she claimed power back in the twenties, before any of us were even born and a Drake daughter wasn’t even an issue. Drake women were discouraged from court but not outright exiled until Solange was born.”

  “She sounds like a piece of work.”

  “S
he’s the first to have ties strong enough even to hope to rule. She’s kind of our best bet if we want to stop all the infighting and control the Hel-Blar. ”

  “Until Solange,” Nicholas added grimly.

  “Exactly.” Logan nodded. “Half the courts would defect to Solange if given the chance. Natasha might be our best bet, but she’s also a power-hungry cow and still totally obsessed with Montmartre. Everyone knows that.”

  “I don’t want her stupid crown,” I muttered. I hated all this talk of prophecies and politics. As if I even wanted to be queen.

  “Why didn’t she exile you too?” Lucy asked London.

  “I’m not really a Drake.” London looked annoyed at having to answer the question.

  “Are so.” I frowned at her. She just shrugged.

  “It’s different for me. Anyway, you should be grateful for the exile. She could have just had Solange killed at birth, you know.”

  “And make her a martyr?” Connor asked. “Or draw Veronique out and have to deal with her wrath? Or have it look as if she might not believe herself to be the rightful queen after all?”

  “She is the rightful queen,” London insisted. She turned to me. “But you’re the only Drake daughter born, not made.”

  “I know what I am, London.”

  “Well, then. Start looking the part.”

  “So now it’s a fashion show, too?” I grumbled, following London and Lucy to my room. London went straight to my closet, made a face.

  “Solange, honestly.”

  “What?”

  “You can’t wear any of this.”

  “She can wear something of mine,” Lucy suggested. “I have better taste.”

  Lucy, notorious for overpacking, pulled a dress out of her bag. It was more like a silk slip with lace on the hem and loops of beaded fringe she’d sewn to the straps. It was the exact color of red wine.

  “It’ll have to do,” London said grudgingly.

  I changed quickly, nerves fluttering in my belly. Dressing up like I was going to a high school dance was making me even more anxious. I put on a pair of Chinese slippers and the silver bracelet Hyacinth had given me last year.

  My brothers lined up in the foyer, each wearing his best clothes. Sebastian was even wearing a suit. Logan was the only one who hadn’t had to change. He was always stylish.

  “You’re not all coming with us,” I said, pausing on the bottom step.

  “Damn right we are,” Connor said.

  “What about Lucy? You heard what Mom said.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said from behind me on the landing. “Don’t worry about me.”

  I glared at my brothers mutinously. “We are not leaving her here alone.”

  Nicholas pushed away from the wall. “I’m staying.”

  “You don’t have to,” Lucy muttered.

  “Good,” I said, ignoring her. My mouth was dry. “Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Lucy

  The very second the door closed behind them, Nicholas started shouting. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised.

  “I can’t believe you did that!” he railed. “After the field party, the vamps in the garden. Didn’t you hear a single word I said?”

  “No, why don’t you yell a little louder?”

  “This isn’t funny, Lucy.”

  “I never said it was.” I crossed my arms and watched him stomping furiously around the foyer. “We did what we had to do. It was worth a try.”

  “He could have killed her. And you.” He slammed his hand down on a side table, dislodging a vase of roses. It fell to the floor, cracking on the marble. Water and rose petals clung to his boots.

  “But he didn’t.” The truth was I was still feeling the adrenaline. I curled my hands into fists so he wouldn’t see the way they were trembling. Maybe I wasn’t made for this spy stuff after all. “And anyway, you went out there and fought a bunch of pheromone-crazed vamps and we didn’t lecture you.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “Right.”

  “For one thing, I’m a lot harder to kill than you two.”

  It was hard to argue with that. “Well, what ever,” I mumbled lamely.

  We glowered at each other for a while longer. For the first time, I could really see the worry etched around his eyes and the way his mouth tightened. He wasn’t just pale, he was faintly gray. We must have really scared him. I tried to imagine what he’d felt seeing his baby sister and her best friend in the woods at night with a Helios-Ra hunter. I sighed. “As much fun as it is to stand around here yelling at each other, do you think maybe we could do something else for now?”

  He jerked his hand through his hair. “It’s pretty late. You could go to bed.”

  “Are you kidding?” I stared at him. “Like I could sleep.”

  “It’ll be hours before we hear anything.”

  I bit my lower lip. “Is Veronique really that scary?”

  He looked up, nodded once. “There’s just something about her.”

  “She wouldn’t hurt Solange, would she?”

  “No, she’s really big on family and tradition and all that. It’s the royal courts I’m worried about.”

  “Did you reach your parents yet?”

  “No.”

  “Crap.”

  “Yup.”

  “Well, we can’t sit around here worrying all night. I have to do something. ”

  “Why don’t you call up another vampire hunter for tea?” he suggested drily. He looked calmer though, less like he was clenching his jaw so hard he’d snap off a fang. “How did you manage that, anyway?”

  “I called the operator. His number was listed.”

  “Seriously?”

  “And I picked his pocket.” I preened like a peacock.

  Nicholas shook his head, grinning that rare crooked grin that made my stomach flutter. “You didn’t.”

  “I totally did. And I found this Helios-Ra handbook guide to vampires. I guess all the recruits get a copy. I was even in it; I’m a Person of Interest. Go me.”

  I thought he’d get a chuckle out of it, but his face went so cold I had to stop myself from shivering.

  “What?” he asked with deadly calm. “Helios-Ra has targeted you?”

  I shook my head enthusiastically. “No, nothing like that, don’t worry. It’s just a profile page. Solange had one too.” His jaw clenched again. Oops. Shouldn’t have mentioned that. God, maybe he was right. I do have a big mouth. I tried a soothing smile. “Really, it’s okay. Anyway, we made photocopies of everything on Sol’s printer. And we had Connor doing his computer geek thing before London dropped in to be her usual sunny self.” I tilted my head. “Your computer’s faster than Solange’s laptop. Think we could find something on the bounty or Helios-Ra? Anything?”

  He looked thoughtful. “It beats sitting around here waiting. Connor’s the one with the Internet mojo though, not me.”

  I shrugged. “Worth a try.” Anything to fill the time, because otherwise I was going to bounce between worrying about my best friend and wondering when her brother got so freaking hot. Neither of those appealed to me as a sane pastime.

  We went up to the attic floor, which had been converted into seven bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a sitting room—all without a single window anywhere. Nicholas’s room was the smallest; there was space only for a bed, a dresser, and his desk. I had to sit on the edge of the bed since there was no other chair. It was only half-made, with a navy blue blanket. The last time I’d been up here there had been pirate sheets and wooden swords.

  I looked around curiously. There was an iPod dock and stacks of music magazines and clothes in a pile in the corner. There was also a small photograph on his nightstand. It was of the two of us on my fifteenth birthday. I was laughing, the light glinting off my glasses and the sequins on my scarf, and Nicholas was turned toward me, with serious eyes and a half grin. I touched the frame.

  “I’ve never seen this picture,” I said quietly. I kind of
wanted to ask him if I could get a copy, but I didn’t want to sound sappy. He looked over his shoulder from where he was booting up his computer.

  “It’s . . .” He grabbed it, stuffed it into the top drawer of his desk. “It’s nothing.”

  Liar. Still, even though I knew it wasn’t nothing, I didn’t know what it actually meant, either. It was probably no big deal. I shouldn’t read into it. I couldn’t help smiling, though.

  “Stop that,” he muttered, not even looking up from the keyboard. I smiled wider. “I mean it.”

  “So how do we find and infiltrate the database of a secret society?” I asked.

  “I have no idea.”

  I scooted to the edge of the bed so I could see what he was typing. “Hey, you do have some mojo,” I said approvingly. The screen was a garble of HTML codes. “I can’t even read that.”

  “Don’t get too excited,” he warned me. He typed for a bit, waited, typed some more. I watched, got bored, lay back on the bed, and stared at the ceiling. He put music on, choosing some of my favorite bands. He typed some more. I felt my eyes drifting shut despite myself.

  “Think your boyfriend would mind the photo?” he finally asked quietly, so quietly I barely heard him.

  That woke me up. “What boyfriend?” I sat up. “I have a boyfriend now?”

  “Jett or Julius or what ever his name is.”

  “Julian?” I blinked, confused. “You’re way out of the loop. Julian dumped me during exams. Well, actually, he didn’t even really dump me. I just found him with his tongue in Jennifer King’s mouth.”

  “You don’t sound torn up about it.”

  “Please, it was forever ago. I called him names, and then when I got home I realized I didn’t actually care. I didn’t even bother with the requisite breakup hot fudge sundae.”

  “Oh.”

  I didn’t know what to do with this Nicholas. It felt like we were about to have a moment. We’d never really had a moment. Okay, we’d had that kiss—make that two kisses. But they weren’t real, were they? The first was in the interest of subterfuge, the second a scientific test of my immunity to pheromones. I swallowed, suddenly nervous. I hadn’t been expecting a moment.