Blood Prophecy Read online

  “I know,” I said. “But I’m nearly immune to vampire pheromones even without nose plugs and you’re not. Which is the point. He needs more of my blood specifically.”

  “Shouldn’t we, oh, I don’t know, actually prove your theory before you go off all Buffy?” Jenna asked as she pulled the van into the woods and drove as far as she could, until the trees grew too close together.

  “No time.” I met Hunter’s gaze. “We’re both dating Drakes,” I said. “Between us, we can handle anything.” We smiled grimly at each other.

  “Ready?” she asked finally, wearing what I called her “vampire hunter” face.

  I nodded and she slid the door open. She traded seats with Jenna, who pulled herself up onto the roof with her crossbow. The moon was full enough to make the trees look silver and lonely. I held up the phone Chloe had given me, already set with a blue blinking dot that was me and a red blinking dot that was the Bower. Connor would be proud of all the gadgets currently stuck into every fold of clothing, including my underwear.

  I ran through the woods, feeling fear in my bones despite the bravado I tended to wear like a favorite worn sweater. I knew it was monumentally stupid of me to be doing this, but I honestly had no other option. Not unless you counted letting my boyfriend be even more vulnerable than he already was—and I so didn’t.

  So I’d do what needed to be done.

  Which would have been a more convincing pep speech if adrenaline and nerves weren’t making me feel like I was going to throw up on the first vampire I saw.

  I had no idea where the Blood Moon camp was. The only time I’d been close enough to spy on it was with Solange back when they were setting it up, and then briefly before she’d dragged me away to have Nicholas bite me. And being hard to find was the whole point, even to the survivalist hiker whack jobs who lived on the outskirts of Violet Hill.

  But I could at least find my way to the Bower, where I’d last seen Nicholas. He’d activated the GPS tag he snuck under my collar and sent the coordinates to Kieran. Kieran, who we very specifically left out of this little adventure. He’d want to help, but throwing an ex-boyfriend at Solange right now seemed like a bad idea. Not that she’d been all that pleased to see me the last time, but at least I could punch her back.

  I picked my way between the trees, frost crunching under my boots. Within half an hour I was closing in on the Bower. I slipped my phone into my pocket before coming out between two oak trees. It was as beautiful as I’d remembered, from the brief glimpse I’d had. Velvet couches and chairs with legs carved into lions and dragons sat around a long table that spanned a narrow creek. Lanterns dangled from the bare branches, glittering with candlelight and ice. Wine bottles I knew for a fact weren’t filled with wine, circulated from pale hand to pale hand. Two women whispered to each other, another drank from a wooden cup. Two men argued amiably and a vampire girl who looked as if she were wearing a tutu swung her bare feet from the branch she was sitting on.

  “Ah, breakfast,” someone purred as I took another step closer. He was beautiful, carved from mahogany and ivory. “Who sent you, love?”

  I cleared my throat as he pushed out of his chair to circle me lazily. “I’m here for Nicholas Drake,” I said as firmly as I could.

  “Are you now?”

  The thing about joining the Helios-Ra was that I was suddenly aware of all the horrible ways I could die at the hands of a vampire. Before, I’d known the Drakes would never hurt me and it was enough. Now everything was muddled and I had to worry about hunters and Huntsmen, Hel-Blar and vampires I’d never even heard of. I tried to remember how Penelope had acted when we’d found her half-unconscious at Solange’s feet. She’d welcomed the feeding, had acted honored. Addicted. I made my smile silly and distracted. “He sent for me,” I whispered, as if I was confiding in him. He trailed his fingertip along the line of my throat and I fought my natural instinct, which was to kick him in the shin and poke him with a pink-glitter stake. Instead, I giggled and tried to look regretful and tempted.

  “He doesn’t like to share,” I said. If I’d been able to, I would have smacked myself.

  “A pity.” He jerked his head to a faint trail leading west, along the creek. “That way, love.”

  I walked away, shoving my hands in my pockets so no one would see they were trembling. The back of my neck felt icy. Out of the frying pan, into the fire, as my grandma used to say. She also would have said to stay the hell out of the woods when they were crawling with vampires. I didn’t even want to think of what my parents would say. Dad’s ulcer was probably exploding even now.

  The leaf-strewn trail led me to a grassy field littered with motorcycles and dirt bikes. I was about to step into the clearing when the sound of a footstep startled me.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”

  I spun, flinging a stake. The vampire bent out of the way in a fluid movement that no human could have managed. The stake slammed into a tree, spitting bark. She raised an eyebrow. “You must be Lucy.”

  I blinked at her. “Um.”

  She smiled, flashing fangs. She wore paint-splattered overalls and a pink Gerbera daisy in her Afro. “Duncan showed me a photo. He seemed certain you’d show up here at some point and need help.”

  I smiled back sheepishly. “Busted.” I paused. “Wait. You’re the girl he was kissing!”

  “I usually go by Sky,” she returned drily. “You’d better leave all those weapons here. Not only will they be confiscated but real bloodslaves don’t arm themselves as if they’re going into battle.”

  I let her take my stakes away and my bag of assorted weapons. I suddenly felt naked.

  “You really shouldn’t go in there,” Sky said.

  “I know,” I agreed. “But I have to. I have to give Nicholas a message.”

  “Tell me and I’ll tell—damn.” She broke off as a vampire stepped into view and waved at us imperiously. “Too late.”

  She lowered her voice, clamping her hand around my wrist and tugging me toward the guard at the entrance. She whispered so softly I could barely hear her. “Don’t fight.”

  I did not like that advice.

  “I’ll find Nicholas as fast as I can. I promise.”

  She pulled me toward the guard who watched us suspiciously. She wore the royal vampire crest on her vest. “Who’s this?”

  “Nicholas Drake sent for her.”

  “Bloodslave.” The guard nodded at another vampire in the tree above us. “I’ll take her.”

  Sky didn’t let go of my wrist. “She’s attached to the queen. Can’t I just take her to the Drake tent?”

  “You know Solange’s rules. No exception.” She looked at me, her pupils widening and glinting. “Come along.” She was trying to use her pheromones on me. She didn’t know who I was or that I was immune. It was the only weapon I had left, besides the stake in the sole of my left boot. I forced myself to follow her docilely. Sky darted away, bolting so quickly there was only a whirlwind of dust and snow where she’d been standing.

  On the other side of the tree line the camp was fairly quiet. The few vampires outside turned to watch us as the guard marched me down the main path. There was the usual assortment of brocade gowns, glittering saris, medieval tunics, and ripped jeans. The vampire still clinging to the eighties with her side ponytail and teased bangs was unfortunate. There were also fangs and snarls and bloodstains in the dirt.

  We passed the Drake tent, the blue-and-silver dragon pennant flapping in the cold wind under a royal banner. I didn’t see Solange or Nicholas and I honestly wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not. “Where are we going?” I asked the guard. “I’m here for Nicholas Drake. You know? The queen’s brother?” Referring to Solange as the queen was just weird. “And the queen? Kind of my best friend.”

  “Mm-hmmm.” She didn’t sound convinced or even particularly impressed. Damn it. “All human visitors have to wait here for their hosts.”

  I balked, physically digging my heels into the d
irt. It might have been midnight in the middle of a forest under a mountain, but between the full moon and the torches and camping lanterns, I could see perfectly well.

  Too well.

  The rows of painted canvas tents, some as large as carnival big tops, came to a natural meeting place, like a village square. In the center of the grass-flattened clearing was a tree stripped of its branches that stood at least three feet around. Hooks were set into the trunk, securing chains.

  Attached to them were humans.

  Some wore chains several yards long, stretching out to canvas roofs painted with vampire crests and furnished with cushions and small iron fire pits for warmth. Some were bare to the elements. While others were secured right up against the tree post with barely enough slack in their chains to sit down. Most of them were pale and wore necklaces and bracelets of dried blood.

  “Oh hell, no,” I said when the guard yanked me forward.

  “Queen’s orders,” she returned drily. “You know, your best friend?”

  Sarcasm is so much better as a weapon when I’m the one wielding it.

  “Solange would never order something like this,” I said quietly.

  “That’s Queen Solange to you,” the guard corrected, snapping a metal cuff around my wrist and stalking away.

  I pulled savagely but I already knew it wouldn’t magically click open. The metal was cold on my skin and the chain was short enough that I had to lean against the tree. I couldn’t help but remember the last time I’d tried to infiltrate a vampire gathering. I’d ended up in a dungeon dressed like an extra from a Marie-Antoinette movie set while another crazy “queen” ate a raw deer heart thinking it belonged to my best friend. Chained to a post with snow falling lightly, with hungry vampires pacing the perimeter, wasn’t exactly an improvement.

  Apparently, learning from my mistakes wasn’t high on my list of priorities.

  When my teeth started to chatter, I tried to ease closer to one of the fires. I managed to move about three inches. I yanked at the chain again, scowling. I’d never felt less like a vampire sympathizer or a vampire hunter in my entire life.

  “You’ll only hurt yourself,” a guy about my age called from under the protection of a tent top and a pile of blankets. He looked comfortable and perfectly happy, watching a movie on a laptop. “They only chain the new ones or the ones being punished that close to the post.”

  “Great,” I muttered. “And what do you mean ‘being punished’? For what?”

  He shrugged, the fire crackling between us casting shadows under his eyes. “Traitors, donors who can’t keep a secret. The usual.” He grimaced at his own chains, glinting from the edge of one of his blankets. “Can’t say I love the new system.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed sourly. “It’s kind of rude.”

  “Apparently the new queen is traditional.”

  I snorted. “Traditional whack job?”

  He looked around warily. “You’re new to this vampire thing, aren’t you?”

  I nearly laughed out loud. “Not exactly.”

  “Well, a little tip. Vampires have really good hearing and the queen doesn’t like to hear dissension.”

  I had to actually bite my tongue until tears came to my eyes to stop the comment I was dying to make about the new queen and what she could do with her traditions. The pain cleared my head. “Traditional to when?” I asked instead. “Because I’ve never heard of this.”

  “The twelfth century, apparently,” he replied, shrugging. “The Middle Ages or something. My host family isn’t that old, so I don’t know much else.”

  Okay, whatever had happened to Solange was somehow linked to the twelfth century. I wasn’t sure why that was important, but it felt like something I might need to know. I felt a small surge of excitement that we might actually find a way to save her.

  A vampire with an expression I didn’t trust, circled closer to me, sniffing.

  “Hey, back off.” I scowled, kicking out at him. I missed, of course, but I was proving a point more than anything else. He just smiled slowly, hungrily. His fangs elongated. “Shit,” I said, belatedly trying the yoga breathing my mom taught me to calm me down. “Back off.”

  “But you smell like sugar and pepper. Just a taste.”

  I held up my fists. “I belong to Nicholas Drake.” Usually I would have rolled my eyes at a ridiculous statement like that. Right now, it seemed my best defense.

  He didn’t come closer, but he didn’t back away either. He just kept staring at me with that creepy hungry glint in his eyes. Stay focused, I ordered myself. This is just a minor setback.

  Someone rattled his chains suddenly on the other side of the post, and shouted obscenities. He jerked at his chains so frantically I heard the pop of his wrist dislocating. It didn’t stop him. One of the girls nearby tried to hush him. He finally stopped fighting when a guard wearing the royal insignia punched him in the face and then walked away, looking irritated. The guy crumpled silently, dangling from his short chains.

  Hell of a setback.

  And then just to prove that things could always get worse, they did.

  Chapter 11

  Solange

  Now I knew why Viola hated Madame Veronique.

  I could still feel the visceral bite of her hatred for her, from that night in the tent when I’d challenged Veronique. I hadn’t realized why I was doing it at the time. I’d been stewing in frustration for so long I’d just lashed out. But now it made sense. Madame Veronique knew Viola and tried to keep her apart from her beloved.

  Constantine.

  He was going by his last name now but I’d have known those eyes anywhere. Even for a human they were an odd blue. They’d have gone violet over the years, as he waited for Viola to somehow return. That must be why he’d sought me out, why’d he’d been the only one who “understood” me. He’d orchestrated my entire coup. All while staying carefully concealed from Madame Veronique.

  I kind of wanted to stab him.

  Mom would be so proud.

  And Viola and Madame Veronique hadn’t just known each other. They’d been related. They were grandmother and granddaughter.

  Which made Viola Drake the first daughter born to the Drake family. The first of only two daughters, of which I was the second.

  Little parts of the puzzle began to fall into place: Madame Veronique hiring an old witch woman to look into the future. She’d defined me with that damn prophecy, hundreds of years before I was even born.

  And the reason the dragon had attacked Viola’s knights as well as me was because it was the emblem of our family. Lucy’s father would have called it our totem spirit. Viola had incorporated it into her subconscious, the same way she’d kept a piece of Gwyneth and me. She still feared Madame Veronique.

  With good reason.

  Memories shifted in my head until they started to make some semblance of sense. None of which I really had time to consider at the moment.

  Because I’d slammed back into my body at the exact moment one of Madame Veronique’s creepy handmaidens threw a stake at me. I recognized her by her medieval style dress and the heavy pendant in the shape of the Drake dragon holding ivy in its jaws.

  Viola had only let me back into my own body in Violet Hill long enough to help her. I knew my body and what it could do better than she did and she knew she’d die without me. I couldn’t do anything but react.

  My mother’s training had me flipping sideways, like a corkscrew. The cold air whistled around my ears and stung my eyes. I was already considering my options, even as I spun and spun, my hair lifting into the air as if I were underwater. Escape wasn’t immediately possible. I’d have to fight. For that I needed weapons.

  I was cataloguing what I could use as I landed lightly on the balls of my feet. Trees for height, branches for stakes, pheromones, speed.

  They weren’t going to be enough.

  My left foot slipped on a bit of ice. I was still getting accustomed to being corporeal again and it made me clumsier
than usual. The fact that for some reason I was wearing a white silk slip didn’t help. I was practically naked.

  The stake whistled past my head, showering me with splinters of wood when it landed in a nearby tree. The handmaiden snarled and advanced on me, another stake already in her hand. Three more of her sister handmaidens fanned out behind her. I ducked another stake, but only barely. It sliced through my sleeve and my upper arm, leaving a burning trail of blood to my elbow. I backed up, yanking the stake out of the tree. It was splintered but better than nothing.

  Another stake whistled my way. I caught it and flung the splintered one back at the same time. It missed its target but at least the other two handmaidens had to jump out of the way. The third one leaped at me, snarling, fangs bared. She was pale and deadly as mistletoe berries. She caught me in the shoulder with the heel of her palm, hard enough that I heard the grind and pop of it dislocating. Pain seared through me and I hurled myself backward, cracking it against a tree. My shoulder popped back into place just as painfully as it had popped out.

  She closed in, a dagger in one hand and a rapier in the other. The hem of her long embroidered gown flared out, like the petals of a poisonous flower.

  “Viola, love, where are you at? We’ve barely started.” Constantine sauntered into the clearing wearing nothing but leather pants and a lazy, intimate smile. It died as soon as he saw the handmaidens. There were leaves in his tousled hair and he was barefoot.

  I suddenly knew exactly why I was running around the forest in my underwear.

  He tackled the handmaiden who now had me by the hair. They staggered, landing several feet away in a patch of withered ferns. I whirled, preparing to meet the next two handmaidens. They moved slowly, patiently, like icebergs drifting in an arctic sea. I looked from one to the other.

  “Stop,” I commanded, trying to exude pheromones, gathering the power inside of me and pushing it out like wavering blasts of heat.

  They paused.

  Constantine and the other handmaiden were still fighting in the bushes, too far away to be affected by my compulsion.