Hearts At Stake - By Alyxandra Harvey Page 0,67
brothers did it, so you can, too.” I draped my discarded sweater over her. “What the hell was she doing, anyway?” I asked Kieran.
“She was running away.”
“No way.”
“We found Hyacinth.”
My heart dropped. “Is she . . . ?”
“She should survive, if they got her home quickly enough.”
“Assuming there’s still a home, of course. Hope’s got it in her cross hairs.”
He shifted, swore when he bumped his arm. I tossed him my belt since I wasn’t sure he’d be able to get his own off. Nicholas was still lying in a heap in the corner.
“Here, set your arm.”
“Thanks.” Sweat beaded his forehead as he worked to wrap the belt around his shoulder. He looked like he knew what he was doing. “Do a lot of battlefield medicine, do you?”
“You’ve met the Drakes.”
“Good point.”
I watched him struggle and sighed irritably. “I guess I don’t hate you after all.”
“I tried to save her.” He pulled the belt tight with his teeth. Lines of pain etched around his mouth. “She was supposed to be safe underground.”
“Everything’s such a mess,” I mumbled.
“It’s worse than you think.”
“Of course it is.” I rubbed my face. “I’m afraid to ask, I really am.” At least my panic seemed to have desensitized itself.
“Lady Natasha wants to watch Solange die as the entertainment for her freakin’ ball.”
I ground my teeth. “Oh, I don’t think so.” I reached for the vial of Veronique’s blood Logan had said she was wearing around her neck. I frowned, lifted her head to see if it had fallen behind her. “Where’s the vial? Kieran, where is it?”
“She used it to save Hyacinth.”
“What?” I let her head drop, none too gently. “It’s the only thing that could have saved her.” I slapped the ground. “You know what this means?” I asked grimly.
“What?”
“Lady Natasha might just get her wish.”
Monday evening
When Nicholas finally woke up, it wasn’t pretty. He went from unconscious to hyper alert so fast I missed the transition.
“You bloody bastard.” His eyes flashed as he stalked him. “You killed my sister!”
“Wait—,” Kieran screamed when Nicholas grabbed his broken arm. He kicked out, aiming for Nicholas’s knees. There was a grunt, more sounds of fists and feet hitting flesh.
“Nicholas!” I shouted through the bars. “Nicholas, stop it.”
“He killed Solange.”
“No, he didn’t.” Kieran was dangling off the ground, his face going purple. “Put him down.”
“He has to pay.”
“Nicholas Drake.”
He didn’t let go, but he did finally turn to look at me. I pointed to Solange, on her back on the pallet. He dropped Kieran so fast, Kieran stumbled.
“Solange? Solange!”
“She hasn’t moved since they brought her here.”
He finally grinned, looking like the Nicholas I remembered from the Christmas Eve he got his first bike. “She’s not dead!” He frowned. “Why don’t you look happier?”
“She gave her vial away.”
“She gave her . . . son of a bitch.”
I leaned my forehead on the cold bars.
“Today just sucks.” I tried for a smile. “On the plus side, I get to see you prance around in tights.”
Only his eyebrow moved, but it was enough. “I beg your pardon?”
I pointed to the pile of clothes on the ground by his foot. “Your formal wear.”
He glanced at it, then back at me. “Nice dress. Can you breathe in that thing?”
I smoothed the front of my dress. “It would be much more fun to wear if it wasn’t what I was going to be buried in.”
“You are not going to be buried.” He paused, lifted the clothes up suspiciously. “Vampires don’t bury their victims,” he added distractedly.
“Hey, looking for comfort here.”
“Sorry.” He shook out the doublet, complete with lace froth at the cuffs. “Logan would love this.” He smirked at me. “No tights.” He dropped everything. “I’m still not wearing this crap.”
“They seemed rather adamant.”
“She can kiss my— hey.” He scowled at Kieran. “There’s only one costume. How come you don’t have dress up like some eighteenth-century jackass?”
Kieran was still cradling his arm, his hair damp with sweat. He looked wan but still managed to smirk back. “I’m not a prince from the illustrious Drake family.”
“Cut it out.” Nicholas’s ears actually went red. I was so going to tease him about that later. “I’m not a bloody prince.”
“May as well be.” Kieran shrugged his good shoulder. “Lady Natasha knows more than half her court would defect if Solange wanted them to. They’re just waiting for a better offer.”
“I’m still not wearing this.” Nicholas plucked at the ribbon on the black velvet sleeve of the doublet
“Yeah, you are,” I said cheerfully. “Or else they’ll strip