Blood Feud

by Alyxandra Harvey

  “I can’t reach,” I said finally.

  “Turn around. Let me try.” He rolled his eyes at my expression. “I’m not trying to cop a feel before I die, though the idea has merit.” He stretched, swore. “Can’t reach either. Stand on the chair.”

  I climbed up onto the seat, trying not to feel ridiculous. His hands grazed my back.

  “Hold still,” he said as if he was concentrating harder than he’d ever concentrated in his entire life. His vampire pheromones were suddenly stronger, flooding the room with the smell of anise and incense. It had no effect on me, of course, but it smelled nice. He made quick work of the lacing on the back of my tunic, exposing my bare back. His fingertips were cool and gentle on my skin. He reached for the clasp, had it apart in seconds.

  “You’re rather good at that,” I remarked dryly.

  He pushed my tunic down over my shoulder to reach the strap. I felt warm suddenly, tingly. I had to remind myself we were locked up, chained, and about to be killed. I heard him swallow. And then his mouth was on the back of my neck. He pressed a hot kiss there, searing through me.

  Then he stepped back abruptly.

  “Can you reach it now?” he asked hoarsely.

  I nodded mutely and didn’t turn around. I couldn’t look at him just yet. I knew my face was red; my fingers trembled. My knees felt soft as I climbed off the chair. I reached into the armhole of my sleeveless tunic and pulled the bra strap down and then did the same on the other side. A quick shimmy and the bra slid out, dangling from my hand. It was white lace, a gift from Magda. And for some reason having it out where Logan could see it like that made me blush harder.

  I used my fangs to bite a hole into the fabric and then I slid the thin steel wire out of one of the cups. Logan was watching me intently, his cheekbones ruddy. I wasn’t the only one blushing over a scrap of lace. Somehow that made me feel better.

  I inserted the end of the wire into the lock of the manacle on my right wrist and jiggled it gently, tilting my head to better hear the scrape of metal on metal. When I heard the delicate, barely audible snick, I smiled faintly. Another twist and the manacle opened. I slid my hand out and repeated the procedure on the other lock.

  “Sweet,” he said. “You’ll have to teach me that trick.”

  The guards were still quiet on the other side of the door, but we didn’t have much time. I hurried over and picked the locks to free him as well.

  “Are you coming?” Logan grabbed Greyhaven’s discarded stake off the rug and then looked over his shoulder when I didn’t move. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Logan,” I answered calmly.

  “Well, I’m not,” he muttered. “We have to get the hell out of here.”

  “He’s not after you, you have nothing to worry about.”

  He sucked in his breath, to express emotion rather than for need of oxygen. When he spoke, his voice was a little husky. “I’m not worried about me.”

  I didn’t know what to do with this concern, with the way he looked at me, as if I mattered. I needed to stay strong, focused, cold. I couldn’t afford to let him get in my way. I was too close now. I spent too long waiting for my chance.

  And when Greyhaven came back in to kill me properly, I’d have that chance.

  I couldn’t regret not having the opportunity to explore the connection I felt with Logan.

  And I did feel it.

  In a few short nights, he’d broken through some of my defenses, had made me long for things that were impossible.

  He was a romantic, charming, and loving.

  And convincing.

  I knew if I said a single word about the way he made me feel he’d spare no quarter in convincing me that we had a chance. But his kind of life just didn’t have room for someone like me, no matter what Kala’s oracle bones had said. His family was civilized. I was proud to be a Hound, but there was no denying we were a different vampire breed: wild, primal, superstitious. Not to mention disdained and feared by the other vampires.

  And though Logan had passed his tests, had been initiated as a Hound, I couldn’t know yet if he truly understood what that meant.

  Just like he couldn’t know that making Greyhaven pay had been the only thing to see me through my first days as a vampire.

  How was I supposed to give that up, now that it was within my grasp?

  “I have to stay,” I finally said tonelessly. “You should go though.”

  “Don’t be stupid. I’m not leaving without you,” he argued. “And if you don’t come with me, my parents—hell, my entire family—could die. You know Montmartre and you know how to sneak into the court caves. I need you, Isabeau.”

  “I can’t,” I said brokenly. “I have to kill Greyhaven. I have to.” He was asking too much from me.

  “If you stay, you’ll die. He’ll kill you.”

  “Probably.”

  “So, what—I’m supposed to let you commit suicide?”

  “It has nothing to do with you, Logan.”

  “Coward,” he raged at me, the charming young man vanishing. The predator in him, usually disguised in lace and old-fashioned clothes, broke free.

  Instead of being afraid, I leaned in closer to him subconsciously.

  “I can’t,” I whispered again, jerking back.

  “You have to,” he insisted hotly. “You’re a survivor. I saw what you lived through, so you can damn well live through this too. Survive Greyhaven, Isabeau. Please.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I get it. And it’s stupid. Now, I’m getting out of here and I hope you’ll choose to fight instead of giving up.” His eyes flared with green fire. “The Isabeau I know wouldn’t give up. Not now. Not when her tribe is out there fighting.”

  He was right.

  Insufferable, but right.

  “Your choice,” he said finally.

  CHAPTER 22

  Isabeau

  My choice was to stay and get my vengeance—and likely die.

  Or fight and only possibly die.

  Logan made it sound so simple.

  “I’ve only known you three days,” I said. “And you’re asking me to choose you.”

  He speared me with a glance. “I’m not asking you to feel for me the way I feel for you. I’m just asking you to choose you. Not Greyhaven.”

  I wasn’t as strong as I’d thought. Because part of me really wanted to stay. It was easier, tidier, and hurt less.

  Tidier.

  Greyhaven thought like that.

  Not me.

  But if I wasn’t the girl who brought down Greyhaven, who was I? I’d built my new life, my new identity, on that one single goal. But this was a battle of a different sort, one I couldn’t win with a sword or a magic charm. Otherwise he’d keep winning, without even realizing it. I’d survived him once, but I’d carried him around and let him hurt me over and over again. And that part was on me.

  And it was the only part of this whole mess, of the emotions and needs bubbling inside the cauldron of my chest, that I could control.

  So I’d damn well control it.

  “Je viens,” I said tightly. When he looked at me blankly, I repeated myself in English. “I’m coming.” Something broke inside and there was pain and sorrow and then, surprisingly, lightness. Ironically, it was as if I could breathe again.

  Logan stepped close to me and slid his hand through my hair, cupping the back of my head, bone beads dangling against his fingers. He didn’t kiss me but he looked at me with such a fiery kind of joy that I felt scalded all over.

  And naked.

  “Let’s hurry,” he said huskily. “So I can kiss you for an hour or two.”

  It was surprisingly good incentive.

  “The window,” I said as he stepped back. “It sounds as if most of the Host are busy with Montmartre. We couldn’t ask for a better chance.”

  We quietly dragged a chair to the door and very carefully tilted it so it was shoved tight between the handle and the floor. We moved
with studied caution since the guards would have hearing as good as ours. When no one raised the alarm we carried a table and set it under the window, then climbed up on top. I could just reach it. Logan nudged me out of the way and stuck his head outside, looking right then left.

  “Clear,” he mouthed before hauling himself up and out. He stayed low in the grass, reaching down to pull me out. We lay side by side for a long moment, just listening. The night was innocuous, crickets and frogs and an owl somewhere in the forest. I looked up, noting the stars.

  “We’re east of the courts,” I told him. “They’ll have guards posted just inside the trees.”

  “Can we outrun them?”

  “Maybe.”

  “We’re mounting a rescue without weapons,” he muttered. “They stripped us bare.”

  “I know.” I was very aware of the empty scabbard strapped to my back and the bare loops on my belt. They’d even taken the dagger hidden in my boot.

  “Are you ready?”

  I nodded, smiling grimly. I had enough pent-up frustration that taking on Host guards seemed like a calming pastime. Nearly as good as a bubble bath.

  We managed to crawl to the lilac hedge before we noticed anyone at all. The house was quiet, windows casting squares of yellow light on the lawns. There was a carriage house behind the main building but it was dark. We were pressed in the mud, waiting for the wind to shift the leaves. Moonlight caught the metal zipper on a Host vampire’s jacket. He was leaning against a tree, bored. I reached up to snap off a branch of the lilac. It wasn’t exactly a sophisticated weapon but it was marginally better than my bare hands.

  Logan touched my wrist, jerked his head toward the backyard, where the pool wafted chlorine fumes to tickle our noses. I had to press my tongue to the roof of my mouth to stifle a sneeze. Two more guards came toward us, from behind the pool shed.

  We froze, hunched in the roots. They turned right, following a flagstone path that curved away from us. We waited a little longer before easing out of the hedge, rolling to a circle of birch trees. It was the last bit of cover between us and the forest. The guard yawned, shifted against the maple, startling a bird asleep near enough to notice a predator shifting.

  Logan picked up a large stone, hefted it in his hand.

  “Ready?” he murmured in my ear so low it was more of a tickle than an actual sound. I nodded, shifting into a crouch. He tossed the stone low but far enough so that it dropped into the bushes to the left of the guard. The leaves rustled.

  The guard leaped into action, hurling himself toward the sound. We threw ourselves into a run, heading into the edge of the woods on his far right while he was momentarily distracted.

  He wasn’t the problem.

  A shout came from the house, closely followed by a bright spotlight suddenly swinging across the lawn, bright as sunlight. Every blade of grass stood in sharp relief, the peeling bark of the birches, the blue ripple of the pool water.

  Us.

  “Hell,” Logan muttered, tugging my hand. “Run!”

  My feet barely touched the ground. Judging by the voices, there weren’t many Host left behind, as we’d thought.

  But certainly enough to kill us.

  I stopped, spinning around, splintered branch held high. Logan skidded in the dirt.

  “Are you smiling?” he asked incredulously.

  “Just a little bit.”

  “Okay, well, could you run and smile at the same time?” The guards thundered out of the house, racing through the gardens, toward the forest and the fields behind the carriage house.

  “I’d rather fight.”

  “Yeah, I get that.” He shoved me, forcing me into a backward stumble. “Let’s run anyway.”

  “There!” someone yelled. “I see them.”

  Logan kept pushing me until I had to run or trip over my own feet. We leaped a fallen trunk, blossoming mushrooms and moss. Branches slapped at us, catching in my hair. Leaves rained down on us. We darted around trees, zigzagging to make our trail harder to follow. We ran, splitting up at a clearing and rejoining on the other side, further muddying our trail. A rabbit darted out of our way and then we were truly in the dark secret of the forest.

  Safe.

  I was perversely disappointed.

  Logan shot me a knowing grin. “Cheer up. You can hack someone to bits soon enough.” He shook his head when I brightened, heartened.

  I was even more heartened when I heard a plaintive dog howl. I paused, the abrupt switch from all-out running to dead stop making me briefly dizzy. When Logan realized I was no longer keeping pace, he doubled back. I held up my hand before he could say anything, listening harder. The howl came again, trailing at the end.

  I knew that howl.

  Grinning and watery-eyed at the same time, I stuck my thumb and forefinger in my mouth and whistled. It pierced the forest, shrill enough to leave Logan wincing.

  “My ears are bleeding. Thanks for that,” he said. “And so much for stealthy.”

  “We left the Host miles back,” I assured him, whistling again. A series of yips answered. And then barking from across the river. A different howl from the mountainside.

  It wasn’t long before Charlemagne came running at me from between the trees. He leaped on me, tongue lolling happily. He wiped it across my cheek, tail wagging furiously. He gave Logan a swipe in greeting and then leaned so joyfully against me, I staggered under his weight.

  “Good boy.” I scratched his ears, then ran a hand over his fur, searching for wounds. He was unmarked.

  More dogs came at us from all directions until we were surrounded. Logan raised his eyebrows, impressed. There were six aside from Charlemagne, three of them massive, trained Rottweiler war dogs.

  “Finally,” Logan remarked. “We have weapons again. Except that one looks like it wants to chew on my leg.”

  “He probably does,” I said cheerfully, snapping my fingers to get the dog’s attention.

  Logan led the pack to where he’d arranged to meet his brothers and sister. Dogs sniffed ahead of us, ran behind us, and ran along either side.

  I felt more like myself than I had in a long time.

  CHAPTER 23

  LOGAN

  Solange, Nicholas, Connor, and Quinn were waiting for us. Connor was pacing; Quinn was crouched in the ferns. He rose when he spotted us, and Solange came running. The dogs milled around our feet.

  “Logan!” She hugged me so tightly I grunted, extricating myself after tugging affectionately on her hair.

  “I’m fine, brat. Oof,” I mumbled, tripping over one of the eager dogs.

  “I told you the Drake boys are harder to kill than that.” Quinn smirked and clapped me on the shoulder. Nicholas and Connor did the same. They turned to Isabeau cautiously.

  “Isabeau,” Solange said politely.

  I bumped her with my shoulder. “She didn’t murder me, as you can see, so chill out.”

  Solange looked a little sheepish. “Sorry.”

  “I understand,” Isabeau said quietly. “Could I borrow someone’s phone?”

  Solange handed hers over and Isabeau dialed quickly. “Magda? Are you all right? Kala?”

  I could hear Magda’s reply. “Kala’s fine. We set some of the dogs loose to find you.”

  “I know. We found each other. Did you get rid of the Hel-Blar?” Isabeau asked.

  We eavesdropped without pretense.

  “Yes, but only just,” Magda replied. “And we haven’t had a chance to go back to the caves and make sure none are nesting.”

  “Listen, Montmartre’s making his move tonight, right now, against the Drakes. We have to stop him.”

  “Why?” Magda snapped. Isabeau glanced my way, wincing. “What do I care about the royal courts? And we have enough problems of our own tonight, if you hadn’t noticed.”

  “Believe me, I noticed,” Isabeau shot back. “And if you want to know why, it’s because we’re next.”

  “Fine,” she grumbled.

  “I’ll k
eep you posted.” Isabeau clicked off.

  “Where’s Lucy?” I asked the others.

  “At the farmhouse,” Nicholas said with grim satisfaction.

  “How’d you manage that?”

  “She’s in a closet.” Solange rolled her eyes.

  I stared at Nicholas. “You locked your girlfriend in a closet? Smooth.”

  “She’s going to eviscerate him,” Quinn said cheerfully.

  “Yeah, well, she’ll be alive to do it,” Nicholas said. “And that’s all I care about right now.”

  “What about the others? Mom and Dad at the courts?”

  Connor shook his head. “No, and they never made it home. It’s nearly sunrise, so they must have gotten caught in between. Sebastian and Marcus are with them.”

  I checked my pocket watch. “They can’t have been ambushed that long ago. They’ll still be alive. They have to be.” I looked at Solange. “Did you call Kieran?”

  “Yeah, but the Helios-Ra can’t help us.”

  “Why the hell not? What’s the point of dating a hunter if you can’t use him?”

  “They’ve got their hands full,” Connor explained. “Hel-Blar are close enough to town to cause a serious problem.”

  “Greyhaven,” I said, disgusted.

  “What does he have to do with it?”

  “He’s been making vamps on the sly,” I answered. “I guarantee most of them went feral. The ones who didn’t are helping him plan a coup to oust Montmartre, while the others are being used as misdirection.”

  “Shit,” Quinn said. “Bastard.”

  “You have no idea.” I looked at Isabeau, but her expression was carefully blank. “So now the problem is, how do we find Mom and Dad in time?”

  “I can help with that,” Isabeau said confidently, “but I need something of theirs. A piece of clothing would be ideal.”

  “Magic?”

  She shook her head, half smiling. “Dogs.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  Solange and my brothers looked at one another and shook their heads. “We’ve got nothing on us and no time to go home and get it,” Quinn said.