Connor
Nicholas and I were patrolling in the forest near the road into town when my bike broke down. Computers I can handle, cars and bikes not so much. We were well off Drake land, miles away really, but there were so many Hel-Blar around and with the Blood Moon approaching, we couldn’t afford to take chances. We hadn’t made the Hel-Blar—they weren’t technically our mess to clean up—but it would look bad if we didn’t. Not to mention, people might get eaten.
“Could be the battery cables,” Nicholas said. He lifted the seat and then shook his head. “They seem fine.” He tightened them anyway and then dropped the seat back down and turned the key. It still didn’t sound right. He looked irritated. Duncan was the mechanic of the family, but Nicholas was trying to catch up. He muttered to himself while I texted Duncan to meet us.
“I can fix it,” Nicholas said, shooting me a glare when he caught me texting. He started poking at the innards of the bike. I leaned against a tree and checked my phone for messages while we waited for Duncan. I’d texted Christabel to see if she wanted to check out the bookstores in town.
“So … you and Christabel?” Nicholas asked.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket, shrugging. She hadn’t texted me back. “We’ll see.”
“But you like her?”
When I just raised my eyebrows at him, he sighed. “Lucy wanted me to ask,” he admitted.
“Tell her it’s none of her business.”
He snorted. “You tell her.”
“Unless she’ll put in a good word for me,” I amended.
“So you do like her.”
“What’s not to like? She’s hot and badass.” Which made it sound as if I liked her just because she was pretty, which wasn’t true. She was fierce in her combat boots but she read poetry. She didn’t flirt but she was damn cute—and she smelled like cinnamon. She was also the first girl in a long time who was invading my thoughts like this.
But you didn’t go off all sappy to one of your brothers. That never ended well.
Duncan pulled up, trailed by Quinn.
“I was visiting Hunter,” Quinn explained, “and came across Duncan.”
Duncan just grunted and went straight to my bike. His jeans and white T-shirt were smeared with engine grease, as usual, and he was carrying his pack of tools. Nicholas made room for him and they both crouched, looking serious.
“I checked the battery cables already,” Nicholas said. “But it’s still bogging. Must be the carb again.”
Duncan reached for a ratchet. “Good work, little brother.”
They tinkered for a while. Black goo dripped onto the grass. Quinn tossed me a bottle of soda. “What are you doing patrolling when you could be flirting with Lucy’s cousin?”
I groaned. “What, is there a bulletin out or something?”
“Dude, I’m your twin. And it’s about a girl. I’m offended you’d think I wouldn’t know.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said quietly. “I don’t think she’s interested.”
Quinn just snorted. “She’s interested.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “You’ve barely met her.”
“Connor,” he said. “We’re pretty. The sooner you deal with that, the better.”
I laughed. “I don’t think she goes for pretty.”
“What the hell’s wrong with her?”
It took another half hour for Duncan and Nicholas to finish flushing the carburetor or whatever it was they were doing. Duncan explained it in great detail, but I was listening as well as he listened when I explained why his computer was freezing up. He smiled smugly when the engine finally purred. If it was a cat, it would have rubbed its head against Duncan’s knee.
“You guys up for patrol?” Nicholas asked.
Duncan shook his head. “Can’t,” he said, grimacing. “Aunt Ruby’s decided she wants her Mustang ready for the Blood Moon. You know, the Mustang that hasn’t run since 1965?”
“How is she going to drive it to the camp? There isn’t even a road.”
Duncan shrugged. “Beats the hell out of me.” He rode off without another word.
“I’m always up for patrol.” Quinn grinned. “Let’s hit the outskirts of town. Hel-Blar are running wild again. Hunter says the school now gets nightly bulletins from the Helios-Ra agents in town.”
We rode around for a while but it was uneventful, until we were making our way back out among the farms nearest Violet Hill. There was a bright yellow car on the side of Cedar Road with the driver’s door open. No one was inside.
“That’s Lucy’s car,” Nicholas said, all but tossing his bike into the ditch when the kickstand didn’t snap down fast enough.
“Shit,” Quinn whispered as we ran after him. I already had my phone out. I wasn’t sure if we were calling a tow truck or hunters. I called Lucy first while Nicholas raced around her car, shouting her name. She didn’t answer.
“Her cell’s out of range,” I said when Nicholas stopped, hands braced on the hood, his expression painful to look at. Rain pattered around us.
“I smell mushrooms,” Quinn said grimly, nostrils flaring. Hel-Blar. “Or wet earth?” Nicholas punched the car, denting the hood. “I don’t smell any blood, though,” Quinn added. “Nicholas.”
Nicholas nodded, jaw clenched. “I heard you.” He slid into the car’s driver’s seat. His fangs were out, his eyes faintly bloodshot. He was pale even through the window. “There’s Hypnos on the steering wheel.”
“Shit.” I grabbed my laptop and monitored all the lines and signals going to any of the family phones or computers. Mom and Dad didn’t know I’d set them up that way.
“Anything?” Quinn asked me quietly. “He doesn’t look good, man. Hurry up.”
“Nothing—wait, no.” I hacked into Mom’s private account. “Gotcha. Shit. Shit!”
“What?” Quinn read over my shoulder, going pale. “Shit.”
Nicholas finally looked up from the section of the dirt road he was investigating. “What?”
“Message to Mom. From Saga.”
“Saga? The one we thought shot at Solange?”
I nodded. “Nick.”
“Spit it out already. What does she have to do with Lucy?”
“She kidnapped Lucy. She’s holding her hostage in exchange for official recognition for the Hel-Blar.”
Nicholas’s eyes went wild, like lightning striking a moonlit lake.
Quinn looked at me. “You guys see if you can track her. I’ll alert the others.”
“They’ll be out of range, too.”
“I know,” he said, jumping on his bike. “I’ll send out texts and then hit the caves and the camp. Don’t let him do anything stupid.”
“I’ll try,” I said as he sped away. I approached Nicholas warily. “Find any tracks?”
“No.” His voice was stark, cold as naked steel.
I inhaled deeply, cataloging the faint mushroom smell. “It’s not the normal mushroom stink, more like wet earth and leaves,” I said, frowning. “I don’t smell swamp—do you?” He sniffed and shook his head. I froze. “But I smell cinnamon.”
“Lucy doesn’t smell like cinnamon,” Nicholas said tightly. “She smells like cherry gum and pepper.”
“I know,” I replied just as tightly. “But Christabel smells like cinnamon.”
“What the hell’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” But I did know we were both remembering the Hel-Blar attacking us that night we went to the beach. “Lucy’s prepared,” I said. But Christabel didn’t even know vampires existed. “Shit,” I said as the rain started to fall harder. My nostrils flared. “That way toward the woods.”
Nicholas turned on his heel. “I don’t smell Lucy.”
“Could Christabel have borrowed Lucy’s car?” I asked.
“I guess so.” He frowned. “I don’t smell Lucy anywhere.”
“And I definitely smell Christabel.” I wiped water off my face, stepping off the road into the fields of goldenrod.
“Where are you going?” Nicholas called.
“I don’t think they took Lucy,” I said over my shoulder. Thunder growled and lightning hissed. “And I’ll lose Christabel’s scent if it keeps raining.” Frustration simmered in my blood.
“Wait for me!”
“No, stay there. Just in case.” Maybe I was wrong. Maybe they had Lucy, too, or maybe they’d separated the cousins. Either way, Nicholas was Lucy’s best chance and I was Christabel’s.
I didn’t think. I just ran, trying to find my way through the smothering rain and the hundreds of smells in a forest during autumn: mud, leaves, apples. I concentrated on cinnamon, just cinnamon.
The faint trail took me through the deepest part of the oldest woods, where the canopy was so thick the rain barely came through. It was the only reason I didn’t lose her scent completely. The spicy warmth of it tickling my nostrils goaded me forward, through the swelling river and the frost gathering at the foot of the mountain. There was a dirt road, overgrown with weeds but clearly some kind of man-made road. I heard howling and snarling and I wasn’t sure if it was animal or vampire.
The road took me to the ruins of a frontier town, all rotting logs and sagging porches. Wooden signs creaked. The smell of mushrooms was thick, rancid. I gagged but took another breath anyway.
Because underneath the rot: cinnamon.