Lucy
It had been nearly a month since I’d been inside the Drake farmhouse. It was the longest I’d ever gone without a slumber party of some sort, or just hanging out with Solange while she worked on her pottery wheel in the converted shed. The oak trees and the cedars were the same and the rosebushes were still as scraggly. Nicholas and Solange jumped down from the roof before I’d fully stopped the car.
I got out as the front door opened and the dogs barreled out, barking. They would have been intimidating if they hadn’t both slept on my head when they were puppies. They danced around my legs and I crouched briefly to hug them, feeling the vise in my chest ease. Then I felt guilty for feeling better when Christabel was still missing.
My parents rushed out as various Drakes and Bruno cluttered the porch behind them. My mom was babbling and hugging me. Dad didn’t say anything, only hugged me, the family tattoo on his arm standing out in stark relief. His eyes were shiny.
“Dad, don’t,” I whispered. If he cried, I’d cry, too. “I’m fine.”
“You’re grounded forever,” he said into my hair. “In fact, I’m having you microchipped.”
I laughed, the sound muffled in his shirt. “Dad, I’m not a dog.”
“Why don’t we all go inside?” Liam suggested. I would have hugged him, too, but my dad wasn’t letting go of me. Mom ruffled Nicholas’s hair, which he hated, but he never stopped her. Solange was quiet, drifting behind us into the house. I heard bats above the treetops. I ducked my head and ran up the stairs. A wolf howled somewhere in the forest. Gandhi howled back before squeezing himself through the dog door fitted into the gate to the backyard. Isabeau had put it in herself, insisting her animals weren’t ever to be confined.
The lamps were lit inside the house and there was a fire in the fireplace, which I knew was for our benefit. Vampires didn’t feel the cold, and now that Solange was fully turned, there wouldn’t be much heat running through the rest of the house. The fridge would have only enough food for Bruno and his detail. No chocolate or ice cream since I hadn’t visited in such a long time. I wondered if my candy stash was still in Solange’s desk.
Liam stood next to the wingback chair where Helena perched, vibrating with the need to go out and break kneecaps. She was only sitting here because it was our family. Her fangs were out. Even Liam’s teeth were fully elongated, which was rare in what he would consider “polite company.” Mom, Dad, and I shared a velvet couch, and Solange stood just out of the fire’s light. She was wearing her sunglasses again. Quinn was pacing and scowling. He must have known already Connor was missing, too, and being twins would make it even worse for him.
Nicholas leaned against the wall nearest to me, like he didn’t want me out of his reach, even in his own house. His jaw was still clenching spasmodically. There were a lot of humans sitting around being fragrantly anxious. We probably smelled like a banquet to the Drakes. I smelled only the faint lemon floor polish and the wilting lilies in a giant urn on the mantelpiece.
“I’m happy to see you’re safe, Lucy,” Liam said calmly. He looked at my dad. “We’ll find your niece, Stuart. You have my word.”
Dad just rubbed the spot where his ulcer must have been on fire. I half expected to see flames searing through his shirt. There was a jug of cranberry juice on the coffee table and a silver antique urn filled with tea. I poured him a cup.
“We’ve already got Bruno on it, and our three eldest are tracking,” Helena said darkly. “And I plan to be out there as soon as possible.” She looked at my mom. They’d known each other when they were girls, when Helena was still human. Mom nodded, just as severely.
“And Connor,” Nicholas added. “He took off when he caught Christabel’s scent.”
“Since when do Hel-Blar hold hostages?” Quinn asked disgustedly. “And why the hell’d you let him go without me?”
“That’s something I’d like to know as well,” Helena said. Her black hair was like a braided whip down her back. “Hel-Blar have never organized.”
“We don’t know what the Hel-Blar are like among themselves,” Liam said. “We see the ones most driven by madness. I’ve often wondered if there are others who survive. The Hounds rescue Montmartre’s leftovers, but he wasn’t the only one making Hel-Blar. We’ve always known that.”
“The woman who shot the message arrow didn’t look like regular Hel-Blar,” Quinn said.
“Maybe they have other vampires working with them?” Liam asked, brow furrowed. “Though it seems unlikely.”
“No, she wasn’t like us, either. She was blue, just not that blue. And she didn’t reek of decay. That’s how she got so close.”
Bruno cleared his throat from the doorway. He looked tired and grim, right down to the tattoos on his shaved head. “Message,” he said bluntly.
Helena rose like smoke, trailing her husband, her sons, and her daughter. My parents rushed after them as well. Bruno stopped Quinn, Nicholas, and Solange. “You lot don’t need to see this.”
“They don’t seriously think we’re just going to wait here, do they?” I huffed. “That’s my cousin and your brother.”
Quinn tilted his head, raising his hand for silence. Nicholas was close behind me, close enough that every time I inhaled, my shoulder brushed his chest. Outside, the rain started again, like fingers tapping nervously on the roof.
“Hallway,” Quinn mouthed.
Solange went to stand beside him. Nicholas and I went to the second doorway leading from the library to the kitchen. If I stood at just the right angle and cricked my neck to the point of near-permanent damage, I could see everyone in the reflection of an antique mirror. Hoping for an even better perspective, I went on my tiptoes and then nearly toppled over. Nicholas’s cool, strong hand kept me from falling. I wondered how he could even hear their conversation over the pounding of my heart. He licked his lips and looked away. I wasn’t worried. If I could resist chocolate cake—and I had, once—he could resist me.
“So they know they don’t have Lucy. Does that make it better or worse?”
The sound of my name distracted me from the way Nicholas’s hair fell over his forehead and the line of his jaw and his shirt, damp from the rain, clinging to his sleek muscles.
“Christabel is a political hostage,” Liam said, skimming what must have been some sort of note. His mouth tightened. He was all about treaties and honor and this would push all of his buttons. “She’ll be fine as long as we give them a seat at the council table during the Blood Moon.”
“Bloody cheek,” Bruno muttered. “For that lot.”
“It doesn’t fit what we know of the Hel-Blar,” Liam agreed. “And Connor’s there, too,” he confirmed, nearly expressionless. That was never a good sign. “Unharmed.”
Quinn’s teeth were out so far, they poked into his lower lip. He clenched his fists, veins standing out on his arms.
“I’ll kill them,” Helena promised, almost pleasantly. Then she held up a decapitated blue hand. “Hell of a gesture of goodwill.” She glanced at my mother. “It’s not easy to cut off a vampire’s body part, and once they’re dust it’s impossible,” she explained. Mom swallowed. She didn’t want to know any of this stuff.
“I want them, Liam,” Helena continued with a cold smile, “on a stake.” In so many ways she was more medieval than the actual medieval members of the Drake family. She belonged to a time of trials by fire and iron maidens. One of the dogs, Byron, heard something in her voice and whined, sticking his wet nose in my palm.
“After the Blood Moon,” Liam said. “Not before. We have to accept this proposed treaty.”
“Damn their treaty. Since when do we negotiate with kidnappers?”
“Since they have an innocent girl,” he answered grimly. “And our son.”
“It sets a bad precedent,” she said, but she wasn’t really arguing.
“You can’t risk my niece,” Dad said calmly, as if she weren’t wearing a sword in her belt and couldn’t snap his neck with a flick of her very delicate wrist.
“I know,” she replied. “They have our son, too.” She touched his shoulder, reminding him that she knew how he felt. Poor Connor. He really was the nicest of the brothers, and now he was at the mercy of vampires who hacked off body parts and used them as calling cards.
“They don’t actually want a war,” Liam continued to read, lips pursed in thought.
“Should’ve thought of that earlier,” Helena said darkly, “before they touched my family.”
“They say they sent delegates to request a private audience, but they were killed on sight.” He rubbed his face. “That’s on us, love.”
“The Chandramaa shot that girl, not us.” Helena stared at him. “And are we supposed to let Hel-Blar just waltz into the courts now, Liam? Are you forgetting what they’re like?” She tossed the hand onto the narrow table against the wall. The faintly wet sound made my mom turn green. Liam moved a painted oil lamp to hide the stain of old vampire blood and decomposing flesh. Gag.
“They’re attacking the secluded farmsteads now,” Bruno added. “And taking livestock closer to town. Even the local papers are starting to grumble about gang violence.”
“I know.” Liam sighed, suddenly sounding a hundred years old though he barely looked thirty. “This Saga wants us to believe she’s different and can control the others. She wants to prove herself to us.”
Bruno read over his shoulder with the ease of someone who had worked with the family for more than two decades. “Claims she’s behind the hands we’ve been finding in the forest. That’s a hell of a way to clean up your backyard.”
“The worst of it is, she’s taken more Hel-Blar down than we have lately,” Helena said, disgusted. “Even with our new alliance with the Helios-Ra.”
“What’s this got to do with my niece?” Dad interrupted. “Or my daughter for that matter.”
Liam winced. “I suspect they meant to use Lucy as a liaison between the tribes.” Nicholas made a sound that was suspiciously like a growl. I actually felt it rumble through his chest. “She’s human-weak.” Now I was the one growling. “And easier to abduct. But she’s also like family to us, and as such, she has unusual influence.”
I preened a little inside at that statement. It was nice that someone remembered me—even if it was some crazy vampire woman. At least Liam admitted I was like family. I was really starting to think they’d forgotten.
“They have something planned for just before dawn.” Liam didn’t need to glance at his watch. He felt the waning of night in his bones. Nicholas felt it even more, being so young. In fact, he was already getting paler. And I had a feeling Solange’s eyes were very red behind her sunglasses. “We’d best get you and Lucy safely home now.” He looked up and smiled right at me in the reflection of the mirror. I jumped. “So you can come out now, Lucy.”
I poked my head out. “You know, it would be a lot easier if you just stopped trying to leave me out of stuff.”
“Mm-hmm. We’ll discuss it at a later date,” Liam replied, faintly amused. “But I doubt your parents would agree.”
I met Mom’s eyes. Her bindi was lopsided now; she’d moved it while rubbing her face. She always did that when she was upset. I thought about the conversation we’d had on my bed. Had that been only last night? I would never believe that I was better off without the Drakes and they without me. Growing up, I’d seen them more often than my own grandparents. They were part of my landscape. And if that particular landscape suddenly included earthquakes and volcanoes and mudslides, then too bad; I already built a house there and dug the well and planted crops. It was an analogy my parents had to understand. They were homesteaders; they knew that once you found your home, you dug your roots. Period.
“I’m already part of this,” I insisted softly. “You can’t undo my whole life and pretend it didn’t happen the way it did.” I was tired of having decisions like that made for me. I was sixteen, not six.
Mom sighed, looking away.
“We’ll take the truck and someone can drive Cass’s car home later,” Dad said, giving no indication that he’d even heard me.
Liam nodded. “Of course.”
“I’ll do it,” Nicholas offered.
Dad just nudged me out the front door. He wouldn’t even let me hug Nicholas good-bye. And Solange wasn’t saying anything or standing up for me like she usually did.
I called for Gandhi and he lumbered into the backseat with me, taking up most of the space. He leaned so heavily against me, I soon lost feeling in my arm. The truck was ancient enough that it had a cassette player and nowhere to plug in an iPod. And in this part of the mountains, we were lucky to get any radio stations at all, never mind without a heavy film of static. Mom turned it off, fingering the mala beads around her wrist. Dad was driving a little fast but no one minded. I stared out the window at the pine trees and cedar woods.
I wanted to crawl into my bed and wake up to a lukewarm shower because Christabel had used up the last of the hot water. I wanted her to ignore me while she ate her breakfast granola and tried to finish her book before school. I wanted Connor rolling his eyes at my mom when her mere presence near a computer made it malfunction.
I wanted people to stop trying to kill my boyfriend, my best friend, and, frankly, me.
Something moved up ahead.
It could have been a deer, about to bound in front of the truck. It happened all the time out here.
Somehow, I doubted it.
Apparently Dad did, too. He frowned. “Now what?”
I had to shove Gandhi over to fit between the front seats so I could get a better look out the windshield. The high beams speared the road, gilded the edge of the bulrushes in the ditches, and showed the faintest glimmer of movement at the top of the hill. I knew that kind of shuffle—not really a crawl, not quite a walk. I swallowed.
“Dad.”
“Yeah?”
“That’s not good.” I hit speed dial on my phone, calling Nicholas. Mom was already dialing, her eyes never leaving the shadows gathering on the hill.
“Helena,” she snapped. “Now. Past the pear orchards.”
“I know. We’ve already got the call.” I heard her voice, tinny through the phone. I switched off my call to Nicholas. “How do you know?”
“We’re surrounded,” Mom said between her teeth.
The rain had stopped but the shadows gleamed wetly, and blue. Gandhi growled, ears pricked, shoulders quivering with the urge to launch himself outside.
“You’re surrounded by Hel-Blar?” Helena shouted. “Go, go, go!” I didn’t know if she was yelling at us or the others.
Dad swore and kicked the truck into reverse. The tires squealed. More Hel-Blar shuffled out of the woods on either side and a clump of them gathered in the road behind us. Dad didn’t pause, just hit the gas harder.
“Hold on!” he yelled, and I grabbed Gandhi, who didn’t have the benefit of a seat belt. We hit the first Hel-Blar with a harsh thump. The next two leaped into the back of the truck and walked toward the very small window between them and me.
“Shit.” Dad jerked the wheel and we skidded sideways. One of the Hel-Blar flew off into the bushes. The other one didn’t. I saw the gleam of his teeth. Gandhi was snarling and barking, spittle hitting the glass. Mom hit the door locks just as another one came at us from the side.
There were too many of them. I’d never seen so many. Usually there were two or three, just as busy snarling at each other as at their prey. Knowing an epidemic existed was different from being inside the maelstrom of it. Even through the thick glass, the car fumes, and dog breath, I smelled faint rot and mildew, like moldy dirt.
One of them had blood on her chin. And they all wore those copper collars.
“They’ve been feeding,” I said slowly, peering into the shadows. Blood and hunger maddened them, turning them even more vicious. Sometimes, bloated with blood, they stayed in the woods and didn’t bother anyone.
These weren’t bloated.
Yet.
I’d thought about becoming a vampire before, of course. It might be cool.
You know, later.
But not a Hel-Blar. I had no intention of spending eternity smelling like that.
Time seemed to slow, and thanks to growing up with Helena and hanging out with Hunter, I found myself making an inventory of the weapons within reach. I had a stake in my coat pocket; there was a wire hanger under Mom’s seat and a pen in the cup holder. The truck, Gandhi, sunrise. We could use any of those if we had to. I wished I had my crossbow. It was in Mom’s car, useless in the Drakes’ driveway. I really had to remember to keep everything in my knapsack from now on.
Mom reached back to grip my hand but I didn’t need the comfort. I needed my hands free to fight.
“It’s okay, Mom,” I said. “We’ll be all right.”
Dad kept backing up and then going forward again, back and forth, back and forth, knocking as many down as he could. Every so often he would swing to one side to throw them off balance. A blue hand slapped the window near my face, then tumbled away. A Hel-Blar landed on the roof. The thump of his boots over our heads made Gandhi bark so loudly my ears rang. I gripped my stake tighter and reached for the sunroof.
Mom’s hold tightened painfully. “Lucky Moon, sit back down.”
“Mom, I can get him,” I argued, balancing on the balls of my feet. “I know how.”
“No! Stay here.”
“Didn’t I say you were grounded?” Dad snapped. “So ground. Sit. Now!”
The Hel-Blar scratched at the roof, making angry, hungry, guttural sounds, like a rabid bear digging for grubs. I had no intention of sitting pale and plump under a rock.
“Dad.”
“No.”
Gandhi tried to bite at the roof. Mom yanked on my arm and I landed back on the seat, glowering. “The Drakes are on their way. Look.”
Behind the blue faces gnashing their sharp teeth at us, in the very thickets of shadows, I saw a pale gleam. If I hadn’t known what to look for, I would have thought it a trick of the light, the moon on water. Only vampires had skin that pale, and only vampires could move so fast, like paint colors smearing across a dark canvas. They were nearly as fast as Bruno and his detail roaring toward us in their trucks.
The Hel-Blar on the roof fell screaming into the road, a crossbow bolt in his chest. He writhed there for a moment before a second bolt joined the first, this one hitting his heart dead center. He went to ashes. The other Hel-Blar stopped, snarled, and backed away. They didn’t flee, just hesitated. We were frozen in a strange, violent dance.
The Drakes only bothered fighting the ones that got in their way. Helena dispatched two with her sword; Quinn whipped a stake at one. The rest slipped between the Hel-Blar like deadly smoke until they ringed our truck protectively. I saw Isabeau with a small pack of dogs racing toward us between the trees. Nicholas landed by my window and shot me a glance, his eyes gray as a mountain storm. I reached for the handle.
“Lucky, if you roll down that window, I am sending you to a boarding school for delinquent girls,” Dad said severely. I didn’t know he could be that threatening—usually he was so laid back people accused him of being stoned.
I was pretty sure boarding school was an empty threat.
Still.
My hand dropped as Solange claimed the now-deserted roof, holding her favorite rapier. I could see her through the sunroof window, as graceful with her drawn sword as a demented ballerina. I envied her. She could fight for her family, next to her family. I was just supposed to sit here and be rescued.
The Hel-Blar with blood on her face licked her chin. Whether it was the smell of blood or something more subtle and intrinsic, it seemed to act as a signal. The rest of them shifted, ready to attack again.
“On the hill,” Solange said suddenly.
On the hilltop, crowned by the last bit of fading moonlight and the truck’s headlights, stood a woman. She was fairly short, her hair glowed red, and she was wearing a breastplate that looked as if it were carved from ice. She was tinted blue, like rare opals. She was utterly alone—no guards, no warriors, and certainly not Christabel or Connor.
She had to be Saga, from the ransom note.
Helena actually hissed, like a cobra kept too long in a basket.
Just as the Hel-Blar made to move toward us again, Saga lifted something to her lips and blew. A sharp, strange whistle shivered through the air. Nicholas and I looked at each other through the glass. It was the same whistle we’d heard on the beach.
And it had the same effect tonight as it had last night. The Hel-Blar jerked, screeching. They covered their ears, gnashed their teeth, and wailed. They didn’t take a single step closer to us. Saga blew again, three short bursts, and they all turned, reluctantly dragging themselves in her direction, leaning as if they were fighting against a winter wind. That whistle was more powerful than Hypnos powder, though it didn’t seem to affect anyone else, aside from being mildly unpleasant. Gandhi tilted his head curiously.
The Hel-Blar continued their forced march. These were particularly feral, barely able to speak. They were savage, furious, and wretched.
And enslaved.
We all watched, stunned and silent, as they climbed the hill, stopped in front of Saga, and then knelt at her feet. They twitched their heads and snapped their teeth, clawing at their collars as if she held them in iron chains. She whispered something.
They stood as one and bent their heads to show the sides of their vulnerable necks. It was a sign of submission among older vampires, something I’d never actually seen done. No one in the Drake family was very good at submitting or surrendering. Saga didn’t smile or react; she just whispered another command. They dispersed, scurrying through the trees like beetles and badgers.
She’d just proven she could control them. But she hadn’t killed them.
Because if they were dead, she couldn’t use them as a weapon against us.
I caught a glance of Isabeau. She looked angry and impressed but mostly sad. She wouldn’t even put collars on her dogs. Solange looked enthralled.
Bruno was the first to speak, standing on the step of his truck.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”