Chapter 3

Lucy

 

I flung the door open, Nicholas crowding behind me.

“Did you even check the peephole?” he grumbled.

Yes, already.” I shook him off. “What, you think vam—uh, very bad guys—knock now?” I blinked at Christabel, confused. “What are you doing out there?” Van Helsing muscled past me. He didn’t look alarmed, so I wasn’t either. Gandhi came to snuffle at Connor before wandering off as well, bored. “And what are you doing here?” My heartbeat fluttered uncomfortably. “Is Solange okay?”

Connor nodded quickly. “She’s fine.”

“Good. ’Cause only I get to kill her.”

Nicholas’s hand was a comfort on my lower back. “She just needs some time to herself.”

“Please. That would work on anyone but me. I was grandfathered in.” I scowled. “Plus, that’s what people say when they break up with someone.”

Christabel came inside, practically plastering herself against the wall, as if Connor were contagious.

If she only knew.

I waited until she’d gone back to her room. I folded my arms, pivoting to block the exit. “So what’s going on?”

“Nicholas and I need to get home.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Fine. Just as soon as you tell me what the new undead drama is.”

Connor shifted, looking uncomfortable. “It’s supposed to be secret.”

I’d always been part of the family. I was one of their secrets, for crying out loud. But ever since my parents had gotten back from their trip, I’d been getting weird vibes. I wasn’t staying at the farmhouse anymore, so I couldn’t eavesdrop. I was getting left out of things. Even Solange was avoiding me. I swallowed hard, terrified I might cry in front of them.

Nicholas kept his hand on my back. He was the only one who wasn’t acting weird, which, I supposed, was kind of weird in itself. He was the only reason I was keeping my shit together. I was used to being part of the Drakes. I didn’t know how to be this other Lucy. She was miserable.

But when I was with Nicholas, I could forget about all of that, or at least not obsess over it. He made the hurt feelings fade a little. He might be arrogant and bossy, but he didn’t hide the important stuff from me.

“We shouldn’t be seen here,” Connor added. He was right. The front door was open. Anyone could see us and overhear our conversation.

I backed up a step, forcing Nicholas back as well since he was still behind me. “Then come inside.”

“Oh, man,” he muttered. “Lucy, don’t do this to me.”

“Don’t you do this to me!” I retorted hotly.

“Mom said we weren’t supposed to drag you into this stuff anymore.”

I scowled. “That’s not fair.”

“Neither’s being eaten by a Hel-Blar,” Nicholas pointed out. To Connor he added, “Just come in. Lucy will find out somehow anyway. At least this way she can’t take us by surprise.”

Connor shut the door behind him. “Fine, but if Mom finds out, I’m blaming you.”

Some of the pressure eased off my chest.

Connor sniffed the air and took a step back, swallowing. “Could you be a little less fragrantly relieved?”

My eyebrows lowered at Connor. “Are you trying to say I smell bad? Nice moves with the girls there, genius.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “As if I’d hit on you.”

“Hey! I’m cute.” I poked Nicholas. “Tell him I’m cute.”

“She’s cute,” Nicholas repeated mildly. “But you can’t have her.”

Connor rolled his eyes even harder. “Give me a break.” His nostrils flared. He stared at Nicholas. “How do you do it? This house is tiny.”

He shrugged but I saw the muscles standing out on his neck. I knew what that meant. “He wears nose plugs sometimes,” I explained. Nicholas nudged me. “What? Why is that a secret?”

Connor peered down the hall. “Did you tell your cousin?”

“Of course not.”

“She shouldn’t be going out alone at night right now. We don’t have the Hel-Blar infestation cleared up yet.”

“I know. We’ve already told her not to go out, but she’s not stupid. She hardly believed Violet Hill is overrun with gangs.”

“Was she sneaking out to meet some guy?”

I snorted. “She’s saving herself for Mr. Darcy.”

“So what’s going on that you came all the way over here instead of calling?” Nicholas asked. He had that intense expression I loved so much, all brooding and serious.

“Give me your phone first.” Connor held out his hand. Nicholas passed it over. Connor glanced at me. “Yours too.”

I blinked, then fished mine out of my knapsack on the floor behind us. “Why?”

“I’m not convinced Mom hasn’t had our phones bugged,” he said, scrolling through the options and hitting a bunch of buttons. I had no idea what he was doing. “I’ll leave the GPS tag, but I want to make sure no one’s eavesdropping.” He gave us back our phones, after pulling them apart to look at their insides.

“So?” I pressed. “What now?”

“The last blood supply delivery to the house was poisoned.”

We both stared at him. The Drakes had been dodging assassination attempts since just before Solange’s sixteenth birthday. And after Helena killed Lady Natasha and became queen, a whole new kind of assassin descended, vying for the throne.

He nodded grimly at our expressions. “Solange nearly drank some.”

“What? Is she okay?” I demanded. I didn’t wait for an answer, just hit speed dial on my phone.

“She’s fine,” Connor told me. “Really.”

The phone rang and rang in my ear. I switched it off, disgusted. “She’s not answering.”

“She’s fine.”

“Then she should answer.”

“She’s okay. Mom and Dad went off to make sure all of the tainted supply is dealt with, and Uncle Geoffrey is testing the bottle Solange nearly drank. Luckily it wasn’t the first of the night, or she might not have been slow enough for Mom to smell something off.” Newborn vampires weren’t exactly known for their delicate appetites or refined manners when first waking up. “But now Mom and Dad want to post more guards, assuming that’s even physically possible. And I don’t know about you, but I need more guards like I need a suntan.” He looked disgusted, the way he did over shoddy computer programming or sci-fi movies not getting proper critical acclaim. “Han Solo wouldn’t need guards. Neither would Malcolm Reynolds. Or Picard.”

I had to grin. “You do realize you’re not the captain of an intergalactic spaceship?”

“Just like you realize you’re not really a superhero?”

I cracked my knuckles. “Hunter’s showing me new tricks.”

“That’s all we need,” he groaned. “Anyway, Dad wants us all back at the house,” he added to Nicholas.

“What about—” Nicholas went still so suddenly that I cut myself off midquestion. “What?” I whispered.

But he relaxed, nodding to the driveway through the window, just before headlights speared between the trees. “Car.”

I glanced out just as my parents’ car rumbled down the dirt lane. “Crap.”

“We’ll sneak out back,” Nicholas said. Lately my dad went a funny color when he came home at night to find Nicholas on the couch with me. Nicholas kissed me, quick and hot as a shooting star. Connor just headed down the hall.

“This isn’t over!” I called after them.

Like hell they were going to leave me out of this.

image

 

I stomped into my room, muttering under my breath. I decided to change into my comfiest pajamas; they helped me think. I opened the drawer and reached for the plaid flannel pants. Shrink-wrapped condoms fell onto the rag rug. “Unbelievable.” I marched back down the hall. “Mom!” I heard them in the kitchen, boiling water for chamomile tea. Ever since his ulcer, Mom made Dad have a cup every single night. He couldn’t seem to convince her that a bottle of organic beer was just as healing.

“Stop hiding condoms in my stuff. It’s like some twisted Easter egg hunt in there.”

Mom was at the kitchen table, a china cup in her hand. Her long hair hung in two braids, lightly sprinkled with gray. She wore a silver bindi and a tight T-shirt with a lotus embroidered on the front from the local Tibetan store. “I just want you to be safe, honey,” she replied calmly.

“I’ve counted eighteen of these so far,” I shot back. “How much freaking sex do you think I’m having?” Especially with a curfew of roughly seven o’clock at night, which was about the time Nicholas woke up. It’s not like we can hang out at school.

Dad blanched, setting his cup down so fast his tea sloshed over his hand, scalding him. I don’t even think he noticed. “Who’s having sex?”

“No one, Dad.” I stole an oatmeal molasses cookie from the plate in front of him while he was too busy hyperventilating to notice.

“You’re sixteen,” he said, half-accusing, half-terrified.

“I know, Dad.”

“That’s too young for sex!”

“I’m not having sex!” This was getting embarrassing, even for our family, who talked about everything. Besides, Nicholas and I had been together for only a month or so. He was trying to not drink from my jugular, not trying to get into my pants. He was more squeamish about drinking my blood than I was. When Dad just blinked at me, his skin the approximate color of a frog’s belly, I shot Mom a reproachful glare. “See what you did?”

“You’re sixteen,” Mom said serenely, as if this weren’t mortifying. “I just want us to be realistic.”

Dad scrubbed his face. He had a long strand of crystal mala beads around his neck. “I’m going to need to get a gun, aren’t I?”

“You don’t believe in guns,” I reminded him. “Remember? That big political march last year? Gurus, not Guns?” They’d om’ed for a record twenty-three hours straight on the lawn outside city hall. I lasted an hour before I got bored. Plus, I really like miniature crossbows and UV guns, so I felt a little hypocritical. I met Solange for ice cream instead.

“That was before I had a sixteen-year-old daughter,” Dad said, his hand pressing on his ribcage, a clear indication that his ulcer was bothering him. I kissed the top of his head. His ponytail was longer than Mom’s.

“Drink your tea, Dad.” Then I pointed sternly at my mother. “I mean it, Mom. No more condoms.”

“I want you to see my gynecologist.”

“Mom!” I turned on my heel. “Conversation over!” I slammed my bedroom door shut behind me in case she considered following me for a mother-daughter chat. I loved my mom but I did not want to talk about sex.

Frankly, I had bigger problems.

Sex paled in comparison to the myriad ways Solange and all her irritating brothers could get themselves killed without me. I deserved to be part of their clandestine plans. I’d earned it. And I was sure they’d need a human touch at some point. And if they asked Hunter to help instead of me, I’d stake every last one of them myself.

Mom says jealousy is unattractive.

So’s a broken nose.

I’m just saying.

I dropped onto the bed, sighing. Emo best friend, crazy mother, and feral vampires in the woods.

Just another Thursday night in Violet Hill.

Bleeding Hearts
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