Hearts At Stake

chapter 4

Lucy

Saturday morning

Mornings were always quiet in the Drake household, even with nearly twenty people stuffed into its tiny rooms and narrow halls. Sunlight sparkled at the windows, made of some sort of treated glass. Ancient vampires can stand sunlight though they never really love it, but it dangerously weakens the younger ones, who haven’t had a chance to build up an immunity. I never took sunlight for granted now, or my ability to eat every meal with cutlery. Though, aside from the whole blood thing, the Drakes were very civilized. They used glasses and goblets, not plastic blood bags.

Lady Natasha, by all accounts, was not civilized. She’d been Montmartre’s second-in-command and his lover. When he’d tired of her, she allied herself with a powerful vampire family. She knew the customs of the vampires, the Host, and the Hounds, and she was determined to bring them all together under her leadership. Biases ran deeply though, and so far she hadn’t managed to unite them. It wasn’t for an altruistic motive like ending what was basically a civil war; it was all about the power for her. And possibly sticking it to Montmartre.

I’d seen the roses with his name on them.

They didn’t bode well. He clearly wanted a Drake daughter to give him vampire babies— and the power of the council and the royal courts if Solange really did take them over. He wanted it all.

Lady Natasha, who wanted him as much as she wanted power, wouldn’t be too keen on any part of that plan.

If only vampire politics were on high school history exams, I’d be all set.

Solange was still asleep, curled around the sunbeams falling on her pillow. I’d already noticed that she was sleeping later and later. I was starting to get nervous for her. Everyone else seemed to think it was a totally normal part of the change. I pulled a sweater on over my nightgown and added thick socks. It was always freezing in the Drake house, no matter the time of year. I went straight to the kitchen to make myself some tea and toast. No one else was awake. I ate my breakfast and then took my tea with me as I wandered through the house.

In my sleep-dazed state, I’d actually forgotten about Kieran, tied to a sturdy chair in one of the parlors. I froze, cup halfway to my mouth. His eyes were intent, curious, edgy. I might not like his attitude, but I guessed I’d be edgy too if I was tied up in a vampire’s house. Especially if I was a brainwashed Helios-Ra agent. The gag was loose around his neck, lying next to his nose plugs. In daylight I noticed he was wearing black jeans and a black shirt, with bare straps where Helena had removed his weapons.

“You look like you belong in a bad comic book,” I told him cheerfully.

He stared at me. “You really aren’t bothered by the whole vampire thing, are you?”

I shrugged. “Whatever.” It was obvious he didn’t know what to make of me. I approached curiously. I’d never actually seen a Helios-Ra agent before. I wondered what the fuss was about. He was barely older than we were. His hands were lashed loosely at the wrists so he could move them a little, but his shoulders were tied tighter to the chair back. He wore steel-toed army boots, also attached tightly at the ankles. “What did the Drakes do that’s got you all pissy?”

“Pissy? Did you just call me pissy?”

“I call ’em how I see ’em.”

“You are the weirdest girl.”

“From the guy who thinks he’s a secret agent man.”

“You should take the Helios-Ra more seriously,” he warned me.

I smiled at him with very little humor. “I don’t take direction well.” I raised my eyebrows. “So? What’s with the vendetta?”

His jaw clenched. “I told you.”

“I’m sorry your dad died. But you can’t blame all vampires for the actions of one.” I tried to sound reasonable, calming. My mom was a natural at that sort of thing. Me? Not so much. “That’s called racism.”

“They’re not human.”

“That’s so beside the point.”

He gaped at me. “What?”

“And besides, the Drakes are human, or were mostly. And they’ve never gone all rogue and fangy on the general populace. Don’t they teach you anything at that hotshot secret academy?”

“How did you know about the academy?” He was trying not to look startled.

“Please. It’s kind of obvious.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I understand exactly,” I said.

“They’ve brainwashed you.”

“Hey, you’re the one in some kind of hunter cult.”

He narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t a joke, Lucy. The Drakes killed my father.”

“They did not.”

“You don’t even know who my father is.”

“I know you’re an idiot.”

He looked at me for a long silent moment as if he was searching for something. Then he looked at my cup.

“Can I have a sip?” he asked. “I haven’t had anything to drink all night.”

I didn’t trust him, obviously. He’d scaled several fences and snuck onto a heavily guarded vampire land with less than polite intentions. Still, it was only tea. How dangerous could that be? I stepped closer. I lifted the cup to his lips and he drank gratefully.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, smiling sadly. He slipped his right hand under his left cuff and there was a small cracking sound and a puff that looked like powdered sugar from a vial sewn into his sleeve. The heavy scents of chocolate and lilies hung between us. It made me want to sneeze.

“I’m pretty much immune to vampire pheromones,” I informed him loftily, crossing my arms.

He didn’t look disappointed or defeated.

“You’re not immune to this blend,” he said.

“Yes, I am. I don’t know what you think—” The room wavered slightly, like I was seeing it through heat waves coming off asphalt. “What the hell?”

Another puff of powder.

“This is a special blend.” He sounded briefly apologetic. “No one can resist it for long.”

“You’re not going to get away with this.” All the colors looked weird, as if they were full of light. The red of the velvet drapes looked as if it were dripping blood. “I’ll scream.” I opened my mouth.

“You will not scream,” he said calmly.

I closed my mouth. The taste of cocoa and flowers made me gag. There was something else laced under the flavors, but I couldn’t place it. Licorice, whiskey, something. I felt faint, befuddled. And underneath the vagueness, fiery anger.

“Untie me, Lucy.”

My hands fluttered forward.

“No,” I whispered, watching them as if they belonged to somebody else. I curled my fingers into my palms. Sweat beaded under my hair, on my face. My glasses slipped down my nose. “No.”

“Untie me, Lucy,” he demanded, more forcefully. “I’m impressed. Few people need a repetition. But you can’t win against it— you’ll only hurt yourself trying.”

I fought the compulsion frantically, and lost. The knots loosened, fell free. When his hands were unbound, he wiggled out of the shoulder ropes and then bent down to untie his ankles.

“Stay there, Lucy. Don’t make a sound, don’t make a move until I’m gone.”

I struggled and strained but it was like sticky chains held me tight. The Drakes were going to kill me. I had freed their only advantage, who was now lifting the window open and slipping out into the ragged garden. At least he didn’t know about the silent alarms. Still, they weren’t enough. I watched him hop the decorative stone wall, run across the field, and slip into the forest. The sun beamed brightly on his head. I heard footsteps, a soft curse, and Nicholas’s furious voice.

“What the hell have you done?”

The release was abrupt and total. My muscles felt like water. My vision grayed and I crumpled to the carpet. I didn’t pass out but it took me a moment to open my eyes again, a longer moment for all the furniture to settle back down into their proper places. Nicholas was crouched beside me, eyes gleaming.

“You little idiot.”

The last of the spider-web-sticky film of compulsion dissolved. I was eager to reestablish myself, panic running like angry ferrets through me at the thought that the effects might be permanent. The anxiety had me nauseous. I reared up suddenly, as if I’d been poked with a cattle prod. The exhilaration of controlling my limbs again was sweeter than any chocolate.

Nicholas, possibly, didn’t agree.

“You have got to stop breaking my nose!” he hollered as the rest of the family thundered in. Blood stained his fingers as he cracked his nose back into place.

“Oops,” I said, wincing. It was probably a good thing he healed so quickly. I rubbed my forehead where I’d crashed into his nose. My breathing was uneven, as if I’d been underwater too long. Quinn, only half-dressed, glared at the chair with the empty ropes coiled like sleeping snakes. His expression went hot, then cold.

“Where the hell is he?”

“She let him go,” Nicholas explained tightly, rising from his crouch. It was then I finally noticed he was wearing only pj bottoms. His chest was bare, roped with slender muscles. My breathing sounded loud, even to me. The combined weight of the Drakes’ outraged fury made me cringe. More adrenaline pumped into my bloodstream. Great. I already felt as if I’d drunk a gallon of espresso. I didn’t know if I was going to pass out or explode. Solange helped steady me.

“Are you okay?”

“I think so.” My teeth were chattering. I fought back tears of frustration and guilt burning behind my eyelids. Nicholas heaved a disgusted sigh before wrapping me roughly in an afghan and shoving me onto the couch.

“You’re practically green,” he muttered, pushing my head down between my knees. “Breathe.”

Helena was at the window, snarling. She shaded her eyes. The glass might make the sunlight safe but their eyes were still pale and sensitive.

“I’m sorry,” I said miserably. “I only meant to give him a sip of tea. He said he was thirsty.” I could tell Liam was reining in his temper with a formidable amount of willpower. The tendons on his neck stood out in stark relief. His jaw might have been carved out of marble.

“What happened?” he asked very slowly, very precisely.

I wanted to crawl into a hole.

“He blew some sort of powder in my face.” I rubbed my chilled arms. I wondered if it was a side effect of the drug or if I was in shock. “I resisted it at first, it was kind of like your pheromones. But the second dose did me in. He told me to untie him.” I closed my eyes briefly, irritated with myself. “And I did. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Willingly?” Quinn hollered. “On purpose?”

Liam silenced him with a look and came to sit in front of me. I tried to avoid his eyes, gave up. There was mostly hard patience and very little recrimination in his face.

“I’m so sorry. I tried to fight it. It was like being hypnotized or something.”

“I need you to tell me everything you remember.”

I described the way it tasted, that it tickled my nose, clung to my sweater.

“Hypnos,” Liam said coldly. Helene turned from her post. She pointed to the desk, and Connor went to retrieve a little jeweled box from the bottom drawer. Then he used a small brush to collect whatever powdery residue he could from my sweater and the carpet.

“We’ve never been able to get our hands on any,” Liam explained smugly. “We’ll have Geoffrey analyze it.” Geoffrey taught night classes in biology at the local college. But he also had his own lab and was always running experiments and studying the Drakes’ unique gifts.

“But what is it?”

“We’re not sure about all the components; certainly it contains one of the zombie herbs. The rest, we don’t know enough about, only that it’s very powerful. Apparently, we should have searched him more thoroughly.”

“It was hidden in his sleeve.” I scowled. “If I ever see him again, I’m going to shove it right—”

“Stay away from him,” Nicholas interrupted my rant. I ignored him.

“Now what do we do?” I asked.

“Now we go back to bed and get some rest,” Liam reminded me gently. “Let us worry about it.” Solange yawned wide enough to split her face. The brothers were all paler than usual, dark circles like bruises under their water- colored eyes. They were still young. In fact, Logan had only turned two years ago. He was so exhausted he looked drunk, barely able to stand up by himself. Sebastian propped him up, leading him toward the staircase. Nicholas had been turned even more recently than that, so I assumed only his irritation with me was keeping him upright.

Solange yawned again. “Are you going to be okay?”

I nodded. “Go on back to bed.” It was nearly eleven but she was weaving a little on her feet. The rest of the family wandered off to their respective private quarters, Liam and Helena whispering to each other. Liam was already dialing his cell phone. Only Nicholas remained. He was the color of milk.

“Aren’t you going up?” I asked.

He stepped closer to me.

“In a minute.”

I finally felt warm. The afghan slipped from my shoulders. He was looking at me as if he wanted to peel me open like an orange. I remembered the feel of his mouth on mine. I frowned, nervous for no reason.

“What?”

“I just want to try something.” His touch was gentle, skimming my cheek, my arm, down to my wrist. His eyes were like rain in autumn; violent, mysterious, beautiful.

Hypnotizing.

“Stop it,” I whispered.

“Stay away from Kieran,” he demanded softly. “He’s dangerous.”

“And you’re not?”

“Let’s find out.” He closed the distance between us before I had time to even blink.

“What are you doing?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted. His lips hovered just barely a breath away from mine.

“I thought you were mad at me.” I really wanted to lean forward, just ever so slightly.

“I am.”

“You’re also trying to use your vamp mojo on me.”

“It doesn’t work on you.”

“Remember that.” My voice was soft, like whipped cream, and at odds with my smug smirk.

We didn’t close our eyes, not even when our lips met. I tingled all the way down to my toes. I wasn’t remotely chilled anymore; in fact, it felt like the longest, most humid day of summer. His skin was cool. I kind of wanted to nip into him like he was ice cream. When his tongue touched mine, my eyelids finally drifted shut. I gave myself to the moment, all but hurled into it. I wanted it to last for the next year and a half at least. I’d never felt like this before.

It could totally become addictive.

Just imagine if we actually liked each other.