Hearts At Stake - By Alyxandra Harvey Page 0,36

package. “I’m not happy about this. Seriously.”

“We got that,” Nicholas said. There was something weird about his expression. His jaw was clenched so tightly I wondered why his teeth didn’t pop right out.

“What’s the matter with you?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

“Nicholas, you just bent your ring, you’re clenching your fists so hard.”

“It smells like candy.”

“What does?” I asked, confused. “What are you talking about?”

He glanced at the stained envelope. “It’s still covered in blood.”

“You are not serious.” He nodded once, as if it was the hardest thing he’d ever done. “That’s disgusting,” I told him. “Seriously.”

“I know.”

“Okay then.”

We went into the huge living room, where his uncle was already busy at the library end, pulling books off the oak shelves. Then he sat down at the table. Lamps burned behind ruby glass. Byron, the oldest Bouvier, licked my fingers, sensing my lingering agitation. Seeing vampires drink blood or snap each other’s necks and crumble into dust was different than craving kitten hearts. That was just too much.

“Easy,” Nicholas murmured. Geoffrey glanced at us.

“Lucky, sit down, your heart’s racing. If it goes much faster, you’ll pass out.”

“She’s still mad.”

“She can be mad sitting down.”

I sank into one of the chairs, leaning my elbows on the wide table, the same weathered oak as the shelves.

“Has your aunt Hyacinth come home yet?”

Nicholas shook his head. “You’re the first.”

Geoffrey frowned. “Am I?”

“Why?”

“She’s not answering her phone or her pager. Hmm. Well, never mind, I’m sure she’s fine.” He looked around. “Where’s Solange? Is she asleep?”

Nicholas sat next to me. “She’s not here. She was summoned by Lady Natasha.”

“What?” Geoffrey was on his feet so fast he blurred around the edges. “Why?”

“London wouldn’t say, or more likely didn’t know. If she had known, she’d have bragged about it.” Nicholas frowned at his uncle’s reaction. “And she wouldn’t have come to fetch Solange if there was any real danger.”

“She’s rather dazzled by royalty, my boy.” Geoffrey closed his eyes. “Damn.” He reached for his phone. “We know who set the bounty, Nicholas.” He pressed a button and the number dialed itself quickly.

“Who?”

“Lady Natasha.”

CHAPTER 13

Solange

We left the car just inside the property line of Geoffrey’s house and used his tunnel access. The tunnels smelled of damp and smoke from the torches in the lesser-used parts of the corridors. It was very quiet— there were only soft footsteps and my ragged breathing. It was the safest route to Lady Natasha’s royal court. She stayed in the mountains during the summer months in a complicated cave system. She traveled the rest of the year between her different holdings, like a medieval queen. Our town is considered her summer retreat, simple and countrified but relaxing enough for the odd week or two. And everyone knew the real reason Lady Natasha had chosen to come here was to keep an eye on our family.

“Are you sure she didn’t say anything else?” I asked London. If Lady Natasha expected me to embroider or dance a waltz, I damn well wanted a little notice this time.

London shook her head. The flickering light glinted off her tight leather pants. “She’s a good queen, Solange. You don’t have to worry.”

“London, in case you failed to notice, there’s a bounty on all our heads. Yours included. And our side of the Drake family has been exiled for years.”

She shrugged one shoulder negligently, though I did see her hand tighten. “It’s not the same for me. I was turned, I wasn’t born into the Drake family.”

“Your dad married your mom and then he turned you on your twenty-first birthday. I’d say that makes you a Drake.”

“Whatever.”

“It’s no different than our dad turning our mom after Solange was born.”

London shrugged again. It was starting to get on my nerves. We couldn’t all be as blasé as she was. Some of us were going to be very grounded by morning. And by some of us, I meant me.

“Mom and Dad are going to freak,” I muttered, stumbling into Logan. “Oof.”

He steadied me. “Careful. You’ll wrinkle the velvet.”

Connor stopped as well, in the lead. He held up a hand.

“Someone’s coming.”

“Stay close to me.” Logan’s fangs elongated, gleaming wetly.

“It’s probably just an honor guard,” London whispered. “Lady Natasha’s big on ceremony.”

Quinn shook his head, nostrils flaring. “I don’t think that’s it.”

“You’re overreac—”

Vampires raced down the hall toward us, some scuttling on the walls like giant ants. Every hair on the back of my neck stood up. Maybe they weren’t Hel-Blar, but they were warriors; either sworn to Lady Natasha or seeking the bounty