Hearts At Stake - By Alyxandra Harvey Page 0,68
you naked when they come get us.”
He glared at me for a long time and then pulled off his shirt, muttering vile curses the entire time. I caught a glimpse of bare chest, wondered if I should look away to give him privacy, then decided that it might be my last chance to see him with his shirt off. His arms were lean and sculpted, like a swimmer’s.
“I didn’t get to see you take your clothes off,” he complained.
“That’s what you get for sleeping all day,” I quipped back. He went farther into the shadows to exchange his pants for the leather breeches. Too bad. When he emerged again, he looked pretty good even though it wasn’t his style. And he was lucky there were no tights, after all. He tilted his head.
“You like it.”
“Shut up.” I blushed. I hated vampire extrasensory perception. It wasn’t fair that he could hear my heartbeat or smell my skin or whatever.
“Girls are so weird.”
Kieran snorted. “No kidding.”
“Please, you two were fighting ten minutes ago, and now you’re the best of friends?” I said witheringly. “Guys are weird.” I turned back to Solange, touched her hand. “She’s still not moving.”
Nicholas and Kieran both went grim, quiet.
“She’ll need blood,” Nicholas finally said. “But I’m sure Bruno got hold of my parents by now, and they’ll bring it with them. I doubt it’s a secret Solange is here. Natasha does rather seem to want to make this as public as possible.”
“Do we have a plan?”
“We fight like hell.”
“Good plan.”
It wasn’t long before the Araksaka filed down the stone steps to escort us to the hall. I wouldn’t let go of Solange’s hand, even when one of them lifted her up to slide an embroidered silver robe over her torn dress. She looked so fragile, with her dark hair and pale features. They marched us upstairs. They wore white silk shirts and heavy breeches, which should have made them look silly but instead made them seem even more fierce. One of them shoved me when I got in the way because I was still clinging to Solange. I stumbled.
“Hey, don’t touch my girlfriend.” Nicholas seethed.
“Girlfriend?” I blinked at him. He thought of me as his girlfriend? Then I shoved the guard back, before anyone could see me blushing. “I mean, get off of me.”
The hall was beautiful, crowded with candles and lanterns hanging from the ceiling and even more mirrors everywhere. Apparently Lady Natasha really liked looking at herself. A long table held countless jugs of every description: silver inlaid with rubies, gold, carved mahogany, painted china. I knew every single one of them held blood. Musicians played in one corner, the soft notes of harp and piano and violin drifting around us.
Lady Natasha’s courtiers were easy to recognize— they all wore raven feathers in their hair. The rest kept their allegiances more subtle; I didn’t know the meanings behind most of the pendants and embroidered family crests. I didn’t see London or anyone else from the Drake family. I did see yards of velvet and silk embroidered with gold thread, brocade gowns, elaborate wigs. I wouldn’t have been entirely surprised if Marie Antoinette strolled by. They drifted and lolled and reclined gracefully on chaises and piles of cushions.
Solange was carried up to a dais draped with red sari fabric. In the middle was a glass bier on which she was stretched out. Her hand fell over the side and lay there limply. There were roses all around her. A raven flew down from a crevice in the ceiling and perched patiently at Solange’s feet. Another raven landed, and another. Soon she was surrounded by huge black birds, all watching her expectantly. The old-fashioned grandfather clock read nearly midnight. When it rang its twelfth chime Solange would have to wake up then and there.
Or not at all.
“Welcome, welcome,” Lady Natasha called from her white throne. We were herded toward her. She wore a white gown with sequined silk over her panniers. Her pale straight hair fell to her elbows, and on her head she wore a medieval horned crown hung with sheer veils that draped to the floor. She dripped diamonds; they were around her neck, wrists, fingers, and even around her ankles beneath the sway of her bell skirt. Hope sat next to her in an evening gown and high-heeled sandals. And just when I thought it couldn’t get much more surreal, Lady Natasha clapped her hands regally.
“Let the celebrations begin.”
The crowd broke off into couples