Hearts At Stake

chapter 12

Lucy

Nicholas lounged in that irritating way of his, reading through the photocopy of the field guide. He glanced up, watching me pace back and forth, back and forth. “I had no idea you were so fitness conscious.”

I paused. “What?”

“Well, you are doing aerobics in the middle of the night.”

I hadn’t realized my pacing had practically turned into a jog. My breath was a little short, my leg muscles vibrating with tension. He was holding himself very carefully, as if he might break apart. Or as if I might. I made an effort to calm my pulse, dropped onto the sofa, and tried to sprawl as irritatingly as he did, but I couldn’t just sit there waiting. I piled kindling in the hearth and lit a fire. It was too warm outside for one, but I needed something to do. Nicholas’s fists unclenched.

“I hate this,” I said as the flames caught. It wasn’t nearly enough to distract me.

“I’d never have noticed. You hide your feelings so well.” His grin was crooked. It made him look nearly approachable, warmed by that unearthly beauty. Solange was the only scruffy Drake I’d ever met, and I didn’t know if she’d suddenly start wearing dramatic gowns after her birthday.

“Really, really hate this,” I added. The gardens were dark behind the treated glass. Or so I assumed, since we’d pulled all the curtains shut, just in case. It made everything cozy, romantic. “We should never have let her go,” I said.

“Bossy as you are, Solange doesn’t take orders from you.”

“I can’t think why, the Drakes are so malleable.” I sat up straight as something occurred to me. “Hey, you have the key to the vault.”

“Do I?”

“Yes, you do,” I told him pointedly. “And I want a stun gun.”

“It’s not a department store.”

I got up, tugged on his hands. They were cool to the touch. I pulled harder, before letting myself get distracted. “Come on.”

He made a big production of sighing like I was crazy, but at least he followed me down the stairs and through the halls, some of which doubled back on themselves, toward the family vault. It was more of a safe really, with a secret-tunnel exit, oxygen, blood supplies, and weapons. I’d never actually been inside before. I bounced on my heels impatiently. He shook his head.

“You’re acting like we have Santa locked in there.”

I rubbed my hands together.

“This is better than some old fat guy. Now gimmee.”

His glance was dry. “You’re not even supposed to know where this door is.”

“Please. I know every corner of this house, including the dirty magazines Quinn keeps under his bed.” I tossed my hair back smugly. “Helios-Ra has nothing on me. Rat bastards.” I knew I was starting to babble, even for me, but I had to keep my body from reacting to his closeness. I should have been immune to his pheromones. I must have been more tired than I’d thought.

He unlocked the door, angling his body so I couldn’t see if he was using a key or a numeric code. He probably knew that if I actually saw what the key looked like, I’d try and steal it. The door swung open silently, heavily, and he switched on the lights, which flickered briefly before glinting on a wall of steel shelves lined with boxes of arrows and stakes and cases of bullets. Guns were securely hung on a steel rack next to swords and claymores and axes on iron hooks. I let out a reverent breath. Nicholas shook his head at my avarice.

“This was a bad idea.”

I lightly touched a wicked-edged blade.

“It’s even better than I thought.” There were baskets of quarter-staves and fighting clubs and spears. “Where are the stun— oooh. Shiny.” I reached for a crossbow, turning to grin at Nicholas. He swung backward, bending to get out of arms’ reach in a way that would have snapped a human spine in half. His dark shirt fluttered like wings. I lowered the crossbow, rolling my eyes.

“Stop it.”

He straightened. “We all remember what you almost did to Marcus.”

“That was two years ago.” I grabbed a quiver of wooden arrows that looked more like stakes. “I’m taking this one.”

He frowned. “No, you’re not. And why?”

I frowned back. “Hello? Bounty hunters? Helios-Ra? The walking undead? Pick one.”

“No one’s going to hurt you.”

“Not with this thing in my possession.” I propped the crossbow against my shoulder. It was surprisingly light. He looked as if he wanted to argue but changed his mind. I was instantly suspicious. There was nothing he loved more than to argue with me. We’d been honing our skills on each other for nearly a decade. Instead he opened a carved wooden chest that looked as if it belonged in a pirate movie. He pulled out a silver chain, with thick, old-fashioned links.

“Here, put this on.” He tossed it to me.

I caught it seconds before it collided with my nose.

“What is this?” A cameo roughly the size of a dollar coin hung on the chain. It was carved with the Drake family insignia, a dragon with ivy leaves in its mouth, symbols of strength and loyalty, respectively. It was beautiful, accented with a single teardrop jet bead. “How come I’ve never seen these before?”

“Your parents probably have one, but they’ve never really needed to use it.”

I held it up to the light.

“Why, is it magical or something?” I rattled it gently, waiting for something weird to happen.

He smiled at me. It was kind of unusual for him but not quite the magical event I’d been hoping for.

“Not really.” He nudged me to turn around so he could work the clasp. His fingers were light and cool on the back of my neck. For some reason I had to stop a delicate shiver. “There.” His voice seemed husky. It tickled my ear. “This will keep you safe. It marks you as one of us. Vampires or the Helios-Ra would recognize this and know that to take you on would be to take on the entire Drake clan.”

I touched the pendant briefly. “Thanks.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t flaunt it until I knew for sure I wasn’t dealing with a bounty hunter.” He paused. “On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t wear it.” He held out his hand, as if he wanted me to take it off. I took a step back, clutched it protectively.

“No way.” The lights flashed twice. I frowned at them. “Power surge?”

“Silent alarm. Someone’s here.”

We both rushed toward the door, nearly getting stuck, like some bad sitcom episode.

“Stay behind me,” he snapped. His eyes were eerily pale. The weight of the crossbow was reassuring in my hands as we crept up the stairs. “And try not to shoot me in the back with that thing.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

When we reached the top, he paused, nostrils flaring. The front door shut quietly.

“Uncle Geoffrey.” Some of the tension leaked out of his stance. I lowered the crossbow.

“I didn’t know your sense of smell was that particular,” I said. “I just thought you could tell if it was vampire or not.”

“Everyone has a scent. If you’re around them long enough, you kind of catalogue it.” He didn’t look at me. “You smell like a blend of pepper and cherry bubble gum.”

“I do?”

Before I could press him further, he stepped out into the foyer, where his uncle was setting down a cardboard box.

“More gifts for Solange,” he said drily. “Bruno’s been through and scanned the bunch. Careful,” he added when we bent for a closer look at the jumble of packages, wrapped in everything from brown paper to silver tissue. The lumpy envelope on top had a brownish stain leaking through. “That one’s a cat’s heart,” Geoffrey said calmly.

“Ew.” I recoiled. “What? Ew!”

“A gift.” He shrugged, unconcerned. “It’s considered a delicacy in some of the more remote tribes.”

“Okay, gross . . .”

“That one’s a kitten’s. A love letter, I imagine.”

“A kitten?” I stared for a full ten seconds, my mouth hanging open. I only managed to close it to swallow the threat of bile. “A kitten?”

“Uncle Geoffrey.” Nicholas winced. The family dogs raced over to see why I was shrieking.

“Sorry. Sometimes I forget she’s not fully one of us.”

Later, I’d feel flattered by that. Right now I was mad. Way too mad.

“Is there a return address? Who sent that? I’m going to kick his ass.” I had to turn my back on the package. “I’m not happy about this. Seriously.”

“We got that,” Nicholas said. There was something weird about his expression. His jaw was clenched so tightly I wondered why his teeth didn’t pop right out.

“What’s the matter with you?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

“Nicholas, you just bent your ring, you’re clenching your fists so hard.”

“It smells like candy.”

“What does?” I asked, confused. “What are you talking about?”

He glanced at the stained envelope. “It’s still covered in blood.”

“You are not serious.” He nodded once, as if it was the hardest thing he’d ever done. “That’s disgusting,” I told him. “Seriously.”

“I know.”

“Okay then.”

We went into the huge living room, where his uncle was already busy at the library end, pulling books off the oak shelves. Then he sat down at the table. Lamps burned behind ruby glass. Byron, the oldest Bouvier, licked my fingers, sensing my lingering agitation. Seeing vampires drink blood or snap each other’s necks and crumble into dust was different than craving kitten hearts. That was just too much.

“Easy,” Nicholas murmured. Geoffrey glanced at us.

“Lucky, sit down, your heart’s racing. If it goes much faster, you’ll pass out.”

“She’s still mad.”

“She can be mad sitting down.”

I sank into one of the chairs, leaning my elbows on the wide table, the same weathered oak as the shelves.

“Has your aunt Hyacinth come home yet?”

Nicholas shook his head. “You’re the first.”

Geoffrey frowned. “Am I?”

“Why?”

“She’s not answering her phone or her pager. Hmm. Well, never mind, I’m sure she’s fine.” He looked around. “Where’s Solange? Is she asleep?”

Nicholas sat next to me. “She’s not here. She was summoned by Lady Natasha.”

“What?” Geoffrey was on his feet so fast he blurred around the edges. “Why?”

“London wouldn’t say, or more likely didn’t know. If she had known, she’d have bragged about it.” Nicholas frowned at his uncle’s reaction. “And she wouldn’t have come to fetch Solange if there was any real danger.”

“She’s rather dazzled by royalty, my boy.” Geoffrey closed his eyes. “Damn.” He reached for his phone. “We know who set the bounty, Nicholas.” He pressed a button and the number dialed itself quickly.

“Who?”

“Lady Natasha.”