Hearts At Stake - By Alyxandra Harvey Page 0,14

even know who my father is.”

“I know you’re an idiot.”

He looked at me for a long silent moment as if he was searching for something. Then he looked at my cup.

“Can I have a sip?” he asked. “I haven’t had anything to drink all night.”

I didn’t trust him, obviously. He’d scaled several fences and snuck onto a heavily guarded vampire land with less than polite intentions. Still, it was only tea. How dangerous could that be? I stepped closer. I lifted the cup to his lips and he drank gratefully.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, smiling sadly. He slipped his right hand under his left cuff and there was a small cracking sound and a puff that looked like powdered sugar from a vial sewn into his sleeve. The heavy scents of chocolate and lilies hung between us. It made me want to sneeze.

“I’m pretty much immune to vampire pheromones,” I informed him loftily, crossing my arms.

He didn’t look disappointed or defeated.

“You’re not immune to this blend,” he said.

“Yes, I am. I don’t know what you think—” The room wavered slightly, like I was seeing it through heat waves coming off asphalt. “What the hell?”

Another puff of powder.

“This is a special blend.” He sounded briefly apologetic. “No one can resist it for long.”

“You’re not going to get away with this.” All the colors looked weird, as if they were full of light. The red of the velvet drapes looked as if it were dripping blood. “I’ll scream.” I opened my mouth.

“You will not scream,” he said calmly.

I closed my mouth. The taste of cocoa and flowers made me gag. There was something else laced under the flavors, but I couldn’t place it. Licorice, whiskey, something. I felt faint, befuddled. And underneath the vagueness, fiery anger.

“Untie me, Lucy.”

My hands fluttered forward.

“No,” I whispered, watching them as if they belonged to somebody else. I curled my fingers into my palms. Sweat beaded under my hair, on my face. My glasses slipped down my nose. “No.”

“Untie me, Lucy,” he demanded, more forcefully. “I’m impressed. Few people need a repetition. But you can’t win against it— you’ll only hurt yourself trying.”

I fought the compulsion frantically, and lost. The knots loosened, fell free. When his hands were unbound, he wiggled out of the shoulder ropes and then bent down to untie his ankles.

“Stay there, Lucy. Don’t make a sound, don’t make a move until I’m gone.”

I struggled and strained but it was like sticky chains held me tight. The Drakes were going to kill me. I had freed their only advantage, who was now lifting the window open and slipping out into the ragged garden. At least he didn’t know about the silent alarms. Still, they weren’t enough. I watched him hop the decorative stone wall, run across the field, and slip into the forest. The sun beamed brightly on his head. I heard footsteps, a soft curse, and Nicholas’s furious voice.

“What the hell have you done?”

The release was abrupt and total. My muscles felt like water. My vision grayed and I crumpled to the carpet. I didn’t pass out but it took me a moment to open my eyes again, a longer moment for all the furniture to settle back down into their proper places. Nicholas was crouched beside me, eyes gleaming.

“You little idiot.”

The last of the spider-web-sticky film of compulsion dissolved. I was eager to reestablish myself, panic running like angry ferrets through me at the thought that the effects might be permanent. The anxiety had me nauseous. I reared up suddenly, as if I’d been poked with a cattle prod. The exhilaration of controlling my limbs again was sweeter than any chocolate.

Nicholas, possibly, didn’t agree.

“You have got to stop breaking my nose!” he hollered as the rest of the family thundered in. Blood stained his fingers as he cracked his nose back into place.

“Oops,” I said, wincing. It was probably a good thing he healed so quickly. I rubbed my forehead where I’d crashed into his nose. My breathing was uneven, as if I’d been underwater too long. Quinn, only half-dressed, glared at the chair with the empty ropes coiled like sleeping snakes. His expression went hot, then cold.

“Where the hell is he?”

“She let him go,” Nicholas explained tightly, rising from his crouch. It was then I finally noticed he was wearing only pj bottoms. His chest was bare, roped with slender muscles. My breathing sounded loud, even to me. The combined weight of the Drakes’ outraged fury made me cringe. More adrenaline pumped