It wasn’t long before we started to see blood in the snow. We followed the vampire who was following the blood until Kieran shook his head. “We’re too far from the car. We might need it.”
He was right. “I’ll get it,” I said, racing back down the hill to where it was still running in a pool of light and exhaust fumes. I turned it around and drove back to Kieran, who hopped into the passenger seat. He kept his door open so he could leap out. The Hel-Blar was clacking his jaws now, saliva dripping. The blood on the snow was getting thicker.
And now we knew why.
There were three people stumbling up the center of the road. There was a farmer in his pajamas, a woman in a business suit and heels, and a guy who looked vaguely familiar. I thought he might have been a student at my old high school, a grade behind me. They all looked drugged, walking aimlessly through the cold night. Only the woman wore a winter coat. Blood dripped from their wrists and necks as they stumbled through the snow, leaving droplets like pomegranate seeds scattered by a careless hand.
A pale, perfect hand.
They weren’t aimless, after all.
“Is that . . . Solange?” I choked, slamming on the brakes. She drifted gracefully along like the undead Pied Piper. “It’s the pheromones,” I added, stunned. “That’s why they’re trailing after her like that.”
Kieran looked vaguely green. “Pheromones,” he agreed, tightly, fumbling for his nose plugs.
Then it hit me.
I whirled on him, eyes widening until the cold air made them tear. “Solange! She’s here!”
He frowned. “Yeah, I got that, Lucy.”
“If she’s here, then she can’t be there. At the waterfalls.”
“With the others,” he realized. “With Isabeau.”
“And Nicholas.” Who I couldn’t see anywhere nearby. He could be anywhere. Anything could have happened to him. “Shit.” I hit the accelerator so hard Kieran cracked his head on the windshield. I aimed for the Hel-Blar. He flew into the nearest tree. The three bleeding humans nearby didn’t even glance back.
Solange froze, outlined in snow and light.
“Get out,” I warned Kieran grimly as I backed up into the road. “Take care of that Hel-Blar and then call Hunter for pickup and I’ll call the farm for backup. We’re still pretty close.”
“What are you going to do?” he asked, but he slid out obediently.
“I’m going to keep her here,” I said.
“How?”
“You don’t want to know.”
I waited until he was out of the way before stepping hard on the accelerator. The tires hissed in protest but I didn’t let up. I pulled the lever to put it into four-wheel drive. Kieran loved Solange and I knew he’d do anything to save her. But I was her best friend and I didn’t have his rules about not hitting girls. So I’d do what I had to.
Including hitting her with my car.
I swerved around the humans, honking. They barely blinked. Solange snarled, her lips lifting delicately off savage fangs. I searched the tree line for Constantine but I couldn’t see him anywhere. It didn’t mean he wasn’t there.
I was kind of looking forward to hitting him with the car, actually.
I dialed Connor’s number, knowing he’d have his phone on. I hit the speakerphone button before tossing mine onto the seat. “Solange!” I yelled, my teeth rattling as I sped over the uneven ground. “On Highfield, by Eighth Line! Call Isabeau while I stall her!”
Solange lifted her hand to block the high beams from blinding her. Her sensitive eyes flared red. I’d just taken away one of her advantages. A glance in the rearview mirror showed Kieran fighting the Hel-Blar. The boy slumped to the ground beside them. I turned back to Solange, who was stumbling in the snow, snarling. The wheels spun out in the slush. I gripped the steering wheel tightly, refusing to let go. I kept my eyes on Solange. She flailed, half-blind.
“Ha!” I was practically standing on the gas pedal.
I hit her just before she could dart into the safety of the forest.
She rolled over the hood and hit the windshield. I eased off the accelerator and the car spun out madly. My stomach pressed against my spine. I slid down the hill backward, narrowly avoiding the farmer, Solange still clinging to the window. Her white dress fluttered against the glass, blocking my view. I slammed into a fence post and the sound of metal crushing in on itself made my teeth hurt. The car stopped with a violent jolt. Solange flew into the snow, rolled to the edge of the road, and lay there motionless. For a long time all I could hear was the hammer of my pulse in my ears. The seatbelt was digging into my stomach and my cheek hurt from where I’d bit it when the car hit the fence.
The driver’s door flew open. Kieran grabbed my shoulder. “Shit!” he shouted in my face.
I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it. He was usually so calm and confident, like Hunter.
“I’m okay,” I told him. I tried to unbuckle my seatbelt but my fingers were trembling so much he had to do it for me. Adrenaline made me light-headed. “I just hit my best friend with a car.” Nausea rolled through me. “I’m going to hell.”
He crouched next to Solange warily. “She’s out.” He reached out to brush her hair off her face but stopped himself, drawing back out of reach.
“For now.” I slid off the seat. The cold air was bracing and helped clear my head. I took a few deep breaths. “Won’t last long.” I pulled a crossbow out of the trunk and armed it. I stood over Solange with my teeth chattering and my hands shaking, an arrow aimed at her chest. “I’m immune, I’ll stay with her. You get some rope or something.”
He pulled chains, ropes, bright yellow twine, and two pairs of handcuffs out of a bag in the backseat. The last time she’d lain so still, he’d had to feed her his own blood to revive her. This time, he cuffed her wrists together and then wound thick rope around her arms and torso. He used the twine on her ankles.
“Where is she?” Quinn and Connor skirted the slumped bodies sprawled in the road without a second glance. I spun around, crossbow still at the ready. They leaped out of the way. Quinn flipped into the air and right over my head. Connor landed in a tree, balancing on a lower branch. One time. I’d accidentally shot Marcus one time.
“Isabeau’s on her way,” Connor said, dropping back down to the ground. Snow drifted off his jacket. “Mom and Dad, are, of course, out of range. But Aunt Hyacinth went to find them and Christabel is going to keep calling from the barn.”
The twins circled their little sister carefully. I lost feeling in my toes. It felt like hours before Hunter drove up in one of the school vans. Her friend Jason was with her.
“Sorry,” Kieran said curtly. “If we called the emergency unit for the vics, they’d have to take Solange too.”
“I know,” Hunter said, all business. “Help me get them in the van.”
The victims were all breathing normally but the boy’s cheeks were white with cold. There was no way of knowing how far he’d walked or how long he’d been following Solange. Jason grabbed him under the arms and dragged him to the van without a word. Kieran helped the woman and Hunter guided the farmer as he shuffled toward the backseat. He sat down with a groan, looking confused.
I crouched in front of him, smiling gently and hiding the crossbow behind my back. “You’re going to be okay,” I told him. “They’re going to take you to the doctor.”
“Caught some hooligans in my field,” he slurred. “Did something to my cows.”
“Did they touch you?” Kieran asked sharply from the other side.
“High on something,” he mumbled. “Smelled like they hadn’t showered in weeks.”
“But did they touch you?” Hunter repeated.
The farmer smiled. “Had my shotgun. Scared them off good and proper.” We exchanged a sigh of relief. “Rather go home,” he mumbled. The wrinkles on his face were like crevices.
“Too bad,” she said cheerfully. “We’re taking you to the doctor first.”
“Smart
mouth. Just like my granddaughter.” He opened one eye. “How do I know you aren’t after my cows too?”
I tried to buckle him in. “Do you know Cass Hamilton?” I asked. “The vegetarian animal-rights activist who hands out flyers at the farmers’ market?” He scowled. I patted his hand. “She’s my mom. Your cows are safe.”
He was still grumbling when he passed out. Jason slid into the driver’s seat as Quinn carried the woman to the back of the van. Kieran looked grimly at the neat row of bite marks on the back of her neck.
“At least it wasn’t Hel-Blar,” I told him. She’d have scars though, they all would. Apparently Solange had abandoned her delicate supper manners. Aunt Hyacinth would be horrified. I stepped back in time to see Quinn lean into the open window and kiss Hunter quickly, but fiercely. She touched his cheek. He turned and pressed another kiss into her palm before straightening up and stepping back.
The van sped away. We were left in the warped prisms of light from the broken headlight, three Drake brothers, a hunter, and my best friend tied up at our feet.
“Um, guys?” I said, staring at the edge of the woods. “We have another problem.”
Chapter 17
Solange
I didn’t need a memory box to know that the residents of Bornebow Hall hadn’t survived Viola’s first night as a vampire.
It was too easy to picture them falling out of their blood-soaked beds, littered around the fire or discarded in the hay, the horses wild with the scent of violence. Still, I wasn’t actually convinced it was enough to cause Madame Veronique’s fear of her. After all, she hadn’t stopped her son from chaining his wife to a post on and off for years, all because they assumed Lady Venetia cheated on him. They’d had no idea yet that the Drake men could father children, even as vampires. It was horribly unfair. As was what had happened to Gwyneth. It made sense now, why she hid in the forest, with her scarred throat, bruised face, and blood on her gown. And I understood why she wanted to stay away from Viola. But I was going to need her help if I wanted my undead life back.
I left the relative safety of the cupboard, creeping out as quietly as I could. I paused long enough to rummage through the clothing hanging from the hooks, choosing a simple gray cloak and pulling its hood up to conceal my face. The hall was deserted and cold. I took the spiraling stone staircase, trying to move as if I belonged here and had a purpose. The guards would be searching for a girl who was clinging to the shadows.
I was so nervous when I passed the first knight, I was sure I was going to throw up all over him, especially when he stopped me. His arm blocked me. “Supper’s late in the kitchens,” he said. “Lend them a hand, would you? I’m half-famished.”
I swallowed, grateful that Aunt Hyacinth had been so strict about teaching the proper curtsy. She’d made me practice for so many hours I could now curtsy perfectly even when terrified and nauseated. “Yes, my lord,” I whispered.
He let me pass and I struggled not to break into a run. I followed the circular stairs, listening intently for shouts of alarm or warning. There was nothing but the murmur of voices from the hall and the cursing of the cook in the kitchen. He was red-faced and sweating through his shirt as he wrestled with a giant pig on a roasting spike. I skirted around the doorway, heading lower still to the cellars and dungeons. Another guard waited at the bottom of the steps.
“You there.” He frowned. “What are you doing down here?”
I smiled, hoping it didn’t look like a grimace. “The cook sent me for turnips,” I said. “He’s in a right bad mood.”
The guard snorted. “Not turnips. Can’t stand his mashed turnips.”
“I’ll see if I can find some leeks instead.”
He smiled. “Good lass.”
I went down the corridor and turned the corner out of sight. I allowed myself a brief moment to slump against the wall and catch my breath before continuing on to the fallen-in tunnel. Dust and debris leaked out from under the door. I’d been hoping I could clear just enough space to fit through, but the door was wedged shut with the pressure of the dislodged stones. I’d have to find another way out. For that I’d have to pass the second guard again. I opened all the doors until I found a cold cellar with barrels and baskets full of turnips, leeks, dried lentils, and onions. I stuffed leeks into a basket and headed back out, making sure the guard saw that I’d left the turnips behind. He winked at me.
Since everyone was currently obsessed with food, I’d use it to my advantage. I dumped the leeks out onto a table littered with carrot tops and stuffed the basket full of bread and apples. I added a wheel of cheese wrapped in cloth. “Eh, where you off to with that?” the cook barked, as he hacked off one of the pig’s legs with a giant cleaver.
“To the gatehouse,” I replied, keeping my eyes downcast. “They’re complaining.”
The cook snorted. “They’re always complaining. Don’t take them good cheese.”
I left the cheese behind and slipped out the door before he could stop me again. The courtyard was full of knights bustling back and forth and a man in a stained coat feeding the dogs in the kennel. Fires burned in iron holders, belching smoke. The sun was setting slowly behind the trees on the other side of the lower bailey. I wanted to sneak out before night fell completely, just in case Viola was stronger at night. She was a vampire, after all.
I went through the first gatehouse without incident. The grassy lawns were empty of knights as they returned to the hall for dinner. I hurried to the last iron gate, glad to see the portcullis was raised. One less obstacle to deal with.
I stopped at the arched doorway. “I’ve brought your supper,” I called up the tower. My voice echoed. I took one of the torches out of its holder as the guard came down the stairs, scowling. “About time,” he said.
I just smiled and whacked him in the head with the torch.
He hit the wall, his helmet ringing against the stones. He slumped on the stairs. I shoved his feet up out of the side and then put the basket next to his head. “Sorry,” I whispered, before replacing the torch. And then I darted over the bridge, trying hard not to look at the moat of bobbing corpses. Sunset leaked red light through the trees, reflecting off the murky water. Bile burned the back of my throat. I ran faster.
An alarm bell started to ring from the gatehouse. My lungs and leg muscles were taking turns stabbing me by the time I reached the edge of the forest. The sun had nearly completely set. I could see the shadow of the dragon circling over the castle and the borders of the woods, silhouetted against the lilac and red sky. I ducked into the oak trees, pushing the hood off my head so I could see it better. I had no way to fight it if it saw me and decided to attack.
I followed the scorch marks from my last encounter with the dragon until I reached the caves. Warm firelight glowed from one of the openings. I climbed up, sweat soaking into my hair, which lay cold and damp over my neck. By the time I stumbled inside, I was covered in dirt and grime. Gwyneth didn’t even look up from the fire she was poking with a stick. “I knew you’d be back.”
“I need to talk to you,” I said as politely as I could.
“Of course you do.” She finally glanced at me. “You’ve already lasted longer than I’d thought. I’m impressed.” She tilted her head, like a bird. “And you got out.”
“Yes,” I admitted, giving in to fatigue and sitting down next to her. “I got back to Violet Hill. But not for long.” Just long enough to get London killed. I pushed back at the bleak sorrow and guilt. I could mourn and survive at the same time. They didn’t have to be mutually exclusive.
“Still,” Gwyneth continued. “That’s an accomplishment, believe me. You should be proud.”
“I just want my life back,” I said wearily.
She ran her fingers over the scar on her throat. From this angle her face was young and pretty, the ruined side turned away from me. “Viola doesn’t give. She takes.”
“I know that,” I said. “But I’m not going to let her get away with—” I whirled, hear
ing the scuff of footsteps behind me. A shadow moved across the uneven cave wall. I caught a glimpse of blond hair and red eyes.
“Don’t mind her,” Gwyneth said, unbothered.
“But . . . it’s Viola.”
“Just an echo,” she said.
“What, like a ghost?” Viola flickered. It was disconcerting. She was covered in dirt and blood, her hair matted, her dress torn. Bats flitted around her, diving in and out. I walked back and forth in front of her. Her eyes followed me. It was creepy. “Are you sure she can’t see us?”
“Quite sure,” Gwyneth answered.
I reached out to touch her, just to be sure. She flickered erratically and my hand passed through a cold draft. It was distinctly unpleasant. “Gross.” I wiped my fingers vigorously on my dress, stepping back. The firelight caught the decorative hinges of the hope chest. The painted lid was open and I caught a glimpse of boxes, like the ones I’d stolen from the castle. “You have them too,” I said.
“We have to store our memories somehow,” Gwyneth explained, getting to her feet swiftly and slamming the lid back down. She secured the heavy iron lock. “Else we forget them and we forget who we are.”
“Are they always kept in boxes?” I asked curiously.
“Only here in Viola’s spirit. It’s how she keeps them. I keep them the same way so she’s less likely to notice.” She looked wistful. “If I had my way, my memories would be birds.”
Viola shifted behind us. I heard a dripping sound and I honestly didn’t want to turn around to look. It could as easily be the blood all over her as it could be rainwater seeping into the cave. I hunched my shoulders defensively. “It’s like she’s staring at me. Why would you stay here?”
“She spent her first few weeks as a vampire here, after she fled what was left of Bornebow Hall. She didn’t know what was happening to her. She won’t come back here.”
I could almost feel sorry for her. Almost. “The bloodchange made her crazy,” I said.
“Oh, it wasn’t just that. She let love burn her up until she scorched everything she touched. It’s like that sometimes.”
Blood Prophecy Page 14
