Hearts At Stake - By Alyxandra Harvey Page 0,54

but I’d hoped I was wrong. Kneeling in the forest with my aunt’s burned body convinced me I’d been right all along.

I pulled out my own phone and didn’t turn it on, only placed it gently on the ground. And then I smashed it repeatedly with a stone until the case cracked open and the insides were dented beyond repair. I looked up at Kieran, knew my face had gone hard by the way he looked back at me.

“I need your help.”

CHAPTER 20

Lucy

Sunday evening

While Logan cleaned up, I took the dogs out again. The gardens were different at night, scraggly and thick. Crickets sang cheerfully from the fields bordering the forest. The moon was yellow and hung in a tatter of clouds like lace. Nicholas was standing guard by the back door and scowling into the darkness. His eyes gleamed.

“Hurry up,” he said.

“I can’t make the dogs pee any faster.” He didn’t look at me, turning sharply when something rustled in the bushes. “You look like secret service. All you need is a black suit and shiny shoes.”

“I’m just being careful.”

“Bruno’s out there and we’re barely three feet from the door. Besides, no one’s after me.”

“Says the girl with a row of wooden stakes strapped to her chest.” He paused. “And are those pink rhinestones?”

“They are,” I said proudly. “Who says you can’t vanquish in style? And see this one?” I pointed to the stake next to the one I’d decorated with pink rhinestones. It had a skull and crossbones drawn on with black marker. “Pirate theme.” He just shook his head at me. I shrugged and tugged on Mrs. Brown’s leash when she wriggled her entire front end into a rosebush. Her bottom wagged furiously. “Get out of there,” I told her. “Before you get a thorn up your nose.”

It took another tug to convince her I was serious. She waddled backward, covered in pink petals. The light from Hope’s window above us made a square of yellow on the grass at my feet. It caught on something hanging from the trellis underneath the ledge. I had to stretch up on my tiptoes to reach it. It was a large bronze sun with jagged rays on a leather thong. I plucked it down, wondering if Hope had lost it when she’d hung out the window, trying to convince me to give up the sordid life of a bloodslave.

“Let’s go,” Nicholas said, opening the door to let the big dogs inside. Mrs. Brown nipped at their heels, grinning her canine grin when they jumped to get away from her. Nicholas ushered me into the safety of the conservatory, his hand on the small of my back. I could feel the coolness of his touch through my shirt. It was dark here as well, full of lilies and orange trees and rare red orchids. A moth fluttered at the glass ceiling, as if the moon were a candle burning over our heads.

Nicholas didn’t say anything, and he didn’t move away, either. Instead he dipped his head lower, his mouth brushing the skin under my ear and then trailing down to the side of my neck. My head lolled back. Part of me waited for the scrape of teeth, but there was only his lips and his tongue. I was the one who turned slightly and bit gently on his earlobe. His hand pulled me closer against him. It was a struggle to remember why we hadn’t gotten along all these years. I couldn’t think of a single thing to bicker about.

I couldn’t think at all, actually.

I was all warmth and shivers. Night-blooming jasmine sent out sweet tendrils of scent. If I closed my eyes, I could believe we were somewhere exotic, in the jungle or a secret garden in India. I had just slid my arms around Nicholas’s neck when the lights flashed on, then off. We froze.

“Alarm,” Nicholas whispered. “Someone’s opened the tunnel door in the basement.”

We hurried down the hall, just as Logan came running down the stairs, his hair still wet, his shirt half-buttoned. There was a shadow in the doorway to the steps leading downstairs. When it stepped forward, it became London, her fangs out as usual. Her hair, usually so strictly slicked down, was a mess of oil-dark spikes.

“You!” I hollered and launched myself at her. My temper burst like a pie left too long in the oven. Nicholas’s arm clamped around my stomach, holding me back. I felt like a cartoon character, punching and kicking