Hearts At Stake

chapter 23

Lucy

Everything stopped.

I couldn’t bring myself to look away from the red lump bleeding in the delicate box. The pearls went pink under the oozing blood. Nausea rolled in my stomach. I couldn’t form a coherent thought, couldn’t move, could barely breathe.

Not Solange. Not Solange.

Kieran stood like any good soldier, looking straight ahead, blood dripping at his feet. He was muddy and tired, his sleeves pushed up to display his Helios-Ra tattoo. I had never physically hated anyone in my entire life the way I hated him now.

“No,” I finally choked out. “It’s not possible.”

“So many gifts,” Lady Natasha murmured, rising gracefully to her feet.

And then, chaos.

“My baby sister,” Nicholas yelled, leaping into the air, fangs extended, snapping his handcuffs apart. He aimed at Kieran’s throat, his eyes like silver coins. Lady Natasha raised an eyebrow, and it was as if she’d let out a battle yell. Araksaka closed in from all directions so quickly their feather tattoos seemed to flutter.

“Nicholas, behind you!” It wasn’t enough to help him in any way, but it was just enough to give ourselves away entirely. I was hardly part of Hope’s unit if I was trying to save my Drake captive. And I did try. I went to pull one of my stakes from its sheath, but it was as if I were moving in slow motion and everyone else was in fast- forward, like those nature documentaries where an orchid blooms and wilts in three seconds. Only we were trapped in a garden of vampires, blooming like deadly nightshade and belladonna and thirsty for our blood.

Nicholas didn’t land as he’d planned, thrown off course by the flying granny boot of an Araksaka, which caught him full in the chest. Kieran went into a roll and came up several feet away, bloody heart rolling across the floor. I gagged as it came to a soggy halt near my left foot. I was shaking and choking on the bile in my throat and absolutely no match for the guards who grabbed me.

“Get off her.” Nicholas struggled as he was hauled to his feet, nose bleeding sluggishly. Kieran wouldn’t look at me. Lady Natasha flicked her hand.

“Such drama,” she said, as if we were a dinner show that bored her.

For all I knew, we were the dinner show.

And dinner, for that matter.

“I haven’t time for children,” she said. “There are still preparations to be made for the ball tomorrow night.” She patted a stool next to her throne. “Have a seat near me, dear boy.” She smiled at Kieran, showing teeth like polished shells. “We have much to celebrate. Civil war has been averted, thanks in part to you.”

“I only want the money.”

I spat at him. I couldn’t help it. I was immobilized between two Araksaka and there was nothing else I could do.

At the moment.

Because, karmic baggage or not, if I got through this alive, I was going to break more than his nose.

Lady Natasha sniffed with distaste. “Barbaric.” She waved a hand. “Take them away, won’t you? They’re becoming tiresome.”

Nicholas and I were dragged out of the plush hall. I was shorter than my captors and my feet dangled slightly off the ground. The stairs were narrow and damp, cut roughly out of the stone and leading into more damp and more darkness. One of them shoved me, and I stumbled down the last few steps, landing hard on my hip. I could hear Nicholas struggling, cursing.

“Lucy! Lucy, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I forced out, once my breath returned. “Ouch!” I was hauled back up to my feet and none too gently. The stairs had led us down to dungeons. Actual dungeons, carved out of rock, with slick iron gates and the chitter of rats. “This is so not good,” I muttered, fear making me mouthy as usual. “You can’t seriously think you can keep us here. We have friends, you know, angry friends. And you’re serving a paranoid selfish—urk.” My tirade was cut abruptly short by a hand to my throat. I couldn’t even swallow, couldn’t breathe, could only feel my face turning purple. I tried to make a sound, scratched at the unbending fingers. The eyes that met mine were cold, flat. And then I was sailing backward into a cell, hitting the wall with enough force to make me see stars. I slumped, gasping. Nicholas was shoved into the only other cell, across from me.

“My family will come,” he promised darkly.

“As it should be,” the guard said. “The Drake clan will witness the final crowning of Lady Natasha, with none to usurp her throne.”

“Solange didn’t even want your stupid crown,” I croaked through my bruised throat. “Or your throne.”

“She was a threat, now she’s not.”

I opened my mouth to yell. I was angry and bereft and afraid and all of those things made my temper harder to control than usual. Nicholas’s eyes flared at me warningly. He was right. I could swear and fume all I wanted, it wouldn’t change anything. And I was already bruised all over, and we’d been here less than a half hour. I wasn’t exactly a force to be reckoned with. I slumped against the wall and held my tears until the royal guard had filed out and we were alone with the cold drafts and the mildew. Sobs finally racked through me and I couldn’t stop them. They were loud and ugly, not like movie tears, which always seem so delicate and fragile. My tears burned and stung and didn’t make me feel the slightest bit better.

I’d known Solange all of my life. Sometimes I knew her better than I knew myself. She was solitary and clever and elegant even when she was adamant that was she was no such thing. She was special, and not just because she was the only vampire daughter. She was loyal and had always been there for me, no matter what. She was the one who nursed me through countless ill-advised crushes; she was the one who snuck me ice cream when my parents discovered tofu desserts and wouldn’t buy anything else. She was quiet and strong and artistic.

It was unthinkable that she was dead.

I gagged on more tears. It wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. We were supposed to be at her house, where she’d drink her first taste of blood at midnight tonight and wake up sixteen years old and dead— or reborn, technically, whatever. Not this. Never this.

“Lucy.” Nicholas pressed against the iron bars. I had no idea how long he’d been saying my name. I was curled into a ball, my eyes swollen. I wiped my nose on my sleeve.

“Sorry,” I said, blinking away the last of the tears. More hovered behind my lids, clutching at my throat, but I had to fight them back. It wasn’t in me to just give up, even when I desperately wanted to. I couldn’t force a smile, but at least I could sit up. Nicholas looked worried and wretched. “What are we going to do?” I asked.

His fists clenched around the bars.

“We’re going to get out of here somehow. They’re going to take us up to the hall for the ball. Lady Natasha wants to gloat and show the vampire clans that she’s defeated the Drakes. It’s posturing.”

“I really hate her.”

“I know.”

“No, I mean, like, a lot.”

“Me too.”

“And Kieran, that rat.” My voice caught. “I’m going to break his nose again. And the rest of him.”

“I’ll help.”

“My mom’s going to make me spend weekends at the ashram for the next ten years to cleanse me of all this violence if we survive.”

“When we survive,” he corrected. He was pale, almost misty in the flickering light of the single torch on the wall between us. Smoke hung near the low ceiling, darkening the stones. “Dawn’s not far off,” he said, frustrated. His eyes looked bruised, even from a distance. “I won’t be able to stay awake much longer.” He sat on the ground, leaned his head back on the wall. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you.”

“Right back at you.”

He half smiled. “Don’t shoot your mouth off while I’m asleep.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

“My family will come,” he said again.

I thought of Liam’s grim face, of Helena’s sword flashing.

“I can’t wait.”