Hearts At Stake - By Alyxandra Harvey Page 0,63

her better than I knew myself. She was solitary and clever and elegant even when she was adamant that was she was no such thing. She was special, and not just because she was the only vampire daughter. She was loyal and had always been there for me, no matter what. She was the one who nursed me through countless ill-advised crushes; she was the one who snuck me ice cream when my parents discovered tofu desserts and wouldn’t buy anything else. She was quiet and strong and artistic.

It was unthinkable that she was dead.

I gagged on more tears. It wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. We were supposed to be at her house, where she’d drink her first taste of blood at midnight tonight and wake up sixteen years old and dead— or reborn, technically, whatever. Not this. Never this.

“Lucy.” Nicholas pressed against the iron bars. I had no idea how long he’d been saying my name. I was curled into a ball, my eyes swollen. I wiped my nose on my sleeve.

“Sorry,” I said, blinking away the last of the tears. More hovered behind my lids, clutching at my throat, but I had to fight them back. It wasn’t in me to just give up, even when I desperately wanted to. I couldn’t force a smile, but at least I could sit up. Nicholas looked worried and wretched. “What are we going to do?” I asked.

His fists clenched around the bars.

“We’re going to get out of here somehow. They’re going to take us up to the hall for the ball. Lady Natasha wants to gloat and show the vampire clans that she’s defeated the Drakes. It’s posturing.”

“I really hate her.”

“I know.”

“No, I mean, like, a lot.”

“Me too.”

“And Kieran, that rat.” My voice caught. “I’m going to break his nose again. And the rest of him.”

“I’ll help.”

“My mom’s going to make me spend weekends at the ashram for the next ten years to cleanse me of all this violence if we survive.”

“When we survive,” he corrected. He was pale, almost misty in the flickering light of the single torch on the wall between us. Smoke hung near the low ceiling, darkening the stones. “Dawn’s not far off,” he said, frustrated. His eyes looked bruised, even from a distance. “I won’t be able to stay awake much longer.” He sat on the ground, leaned his head back on the wall. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you.”

“Right back at you.”

He half smiled. “Don’t shoot your mouth off while I’m asleep.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

“My family will come,” he said again.

I thought of Liam’s grim face, of Helena’s sword flashing.

“I can’t wait.”

CHAPTER 24

Solange

I lay there for a long time. I could have been there hours, days, months; I’d lost track. There was only my breath becoming longer and deeper and slower. I felt like a dandelion gone to fluffy white seed, drifting on the wish of some petulant child. I hoped my family was safe, tucked into the old farm house. I’d miss its crooked halls and creaky floors and my little pottery shed with its views of the fields and the woods and the mountains beyond. I’d miss Nicholas nagging at me to be careful, Lucy arguing with everyone about everything, Kieran’s quiet confidence.

At first I thought I’d imagined the faint clang.

But the voices were real, echoing down to my bed. I tried to move, to open my eyes, but nothing happened.

“This is the one,” someone said. The voice was rough. “I can smell her.”

“Aye, like bloodwine just waiting to be sipped.”

The footsteps approached. I managed to pry one eye open, not enough that anyone would notice, just enough that the faint light showed me two men and a woman through the fringe of my lashes. Each of their faces was tattooed with the three raven feathers of the royal house.

Araksaka.

I tried harder to move, to scream, to kick out. It was as if I was barely in my body—it paid virtually no attention to my frantic commands.

“Not quite out yet, are you sweetheart?” I tried to fight but only dangled limply over his arms when he picked me up. His mouth was very near my neck. I shuddered violently. “Just a little taste.”

“Michel, no.” Someone plucked me away like an apple off a tree. “Lady Natasha would have your head,” he said. “And more importantly, mine as well.”

“But she smells so delicious.”

“Put in your damn nose plugs— you know it’s the bloodchange pheromones.”

“Spoilsport.”

“If you