Hearts At Stake - By Alyxandra Harvey Page 0,41

our back. It was standard formation, one my mother drilled into us along with our ABCs and why we mustn’t tell anyone our parents had fangs and drank blood instead of coffee. For my mother to have been truly proud, we should have had the high ground.

We didn’t.

In fact, we weren’t even all accounted for. “Where’s London?” I asked.

“She took off,” Logan answered grimly. “She ran off down some tunnel while you were napping.”

“And you didn’t go after her?”

“Little busy for a temper tantrum.”

“She probably feels bad about dragging me to court.”

“Too busy for that, too. She’ll be fine,” he added. “And anyway, she mentioned something about doing some recon of her own. The royal guard should have been there to protect you if you were such an honored guest. She wants to know what’s going on.”

“Everything’s a sad-ass mess, is what’s going on,” I muttered. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”

I didn’t even know how far away from the farm we were, having slept through a good part of the journey. We could be half an hour away or three hours. The stars were faint above us, visible only when there was a particularly violent gust of wind. I studied their patterns, as much as I was able. The moon hung low.

“Nearly dawn,” I muttered at Logan. “We have to get out of here.”

“You think?” he muttered back, using that tone reserved for only the most annoying of little sisters. I rose to my feet, feeling as if I were moving through water. I was that tired, with my eyes burning and my throat clenched against a yawn. Logan glared at me.

“Get back down.”

I shook my head. “We’re outnumbered.”

“Not the first time,” he grunted, ramming a stake into the heart of a vampire Connor flipped toward him. A hiss, a burst of dust.

“I can smell her,” someone interrupted, excitement thrumming through his voice. I had no desire whatsoever to meet the owner of that voice. The moon continued to drop behind the horizon. I dove toward Logan, coming up at his side. I yanked stakes out of his back holster.

“Stay down, damn it.”

“She’s mine.” One of the vampires caught my scent and turned sharply away from where he’d been beating Duncan to a pulp. The vampire looked around, distracted. “Solange? I’m here for you, my love.”

“If he starts spouting poetry I’m staking him myself,” I promised through my teeth. Duncan rolled toward us, a deep gash bleeding profusely on his head. Blood matted his hair to the side of his face. Logan’s nostrils flared.

“Cutting it close, aren’t you?” he muttered.

“Bastard’s stronger than he looks,” Duncan muttered back as I propped him up against a tree. I swallowed against the gag reflex when his blood oozed over my fingers.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He wiped his face with his sleeve. “It’s healing already.”

The sounds of battle came closer.

Too close.

I heard the snap of a twig. And then Marcus roaring. Not a twig. His arm.

I threw one of my stakes. It didn’t hit the vampire’s heart but she did stumble back, hissing. Marcus hid himself in the bushes, cradling his injured arm. Quinn laughed even though he was fighting off a vampire and a Helios-Ra agent who were also fighting each other. Fists thudded into flesh. Blood splattered through the air. The darkness was fading slowly to the gray light of predawn, glinting off night-vision equipment. I sat back on my heels, stomach clenching.

“Logan,” I said. “There’s too many of them.”

“We’re fine,” he insisted.

“Are not,” I insisted right back. “You guys have to get out of here.”

“We’re trying,” Duncan grunted.

“I mean right now. Without me.”

“Forget it.”

“We have you surrounded,” a voice announced over some kind of scratchy amplifier. Quinn blinked, midpunch.

“Cops?”

“Worse,” the vampire currently ducking hissed. “Helios-Ra.”

“Damn it all to hell, they’re not even being subtle about it.”

“We only want the girl, not the bounty,” the amplified voice shouted out. “We’re willing to let the rest of you go.”

“Bite me,” Quinn suggested.

“And me,” his new friend agreed.

The sun was hovering on the edge of the horizon. I could see it in my brothers’ faces. A fine sweat beaded Logan’s forehead, and vampire body temperature was generally much lower than human temperature. To see one sweat was rare. Very rare. His face looked drawn too, nearly gray with fatigue. Duncan’s hand shook as he shoved himself to his feet.

We could probably fight our way through the others. After all, they’d have to seek cover soon, just as we would. But even