Blood Prophecy

CHAPTER 25



Lucy


Solange was already down in the front hall by the time I was thundering down the stairs after her. Nicholas slipped wordlessly around the banister to stand next to me.

“It’s Constantine,” Solange told her parents tightly. “And the Chandramaa,” she added, showing them the arrow she’d yanked out of the wall. “He doesn’t know I’m not Viola anymore.”

Helena started snapping orders into her cell phone to guards posted around the farm. Bruno must have already left with Sebastian because I didn’t see him anywhere. Logan was pulling a chest full of stakes out of the closet and Isabeau helped him hand them out. Marcus and Duncan went downstairs for more weapons and Hypnos. I checked the vial in my sleeve and automatically counted my other weapons out of habit: four stakes of various sizes, Hypnos, two pepper eggs, a hand crossbow, a can of mace, and a Taser.

“Here, put these on.” Liam slid a basket across the floor. It was filled with what looked like miniature shields. He wore one on a strap across his chest and it covered his heart in front with a second shield fitted to his back. It was only about the size of his palm. “Bruno’s been working on these for the last week,” he explained as I pulled one out and helped buckle it onto Nicholas.

Another shot rang out, shivering across the quiet winter night.

“I’m not letting anyone else die for me,” Solange said. She’d said it a hundred times since the summer, only this time she didn’t sound frantic, just determined and eerily calm.

There was a strange whistling sound and then something fiery crashed through the living room window. A second missile hit upstairs. The smell of smoke and winter rushed through the broken glass. Duncan dashed upstairs and Quinn and Connor grabbed a blanket from the couch to put the fire out before it reached the rug and traveled. I had to extricate myself from between the wall and Nicholas, where he’d pressed against me to protect me. It probably never occurred to him that he was flammable too.

Helena went to the glass. “Bastard’s trying to burn us out.” She checked her phone. “They’re in the back as well.”

A huge stone crashed outside. The front door shook. “That one hit the porch,” Quinn said. He blinked at the next rock that came through. “Does he have a trebuchet?”

“He’s laying siege,” Solange said. “So he might. At heart he’s still a knight. He’ll wait us out or burn us out.”

“We have supplies,” Connor pointed out. “And come sunrise he has to give up his ground.”

“Only if he doesn’t have humans fighting for him,” Duncan added as he and Marcus came back up the stairs.

“We could take them” Quinn scoffed. “Hell, Lucy could take them.”

I grabbed a bow from Marcus and a quiver of arrows. “Can I start now?”

“Stay away from the windows, Lucy,” Helena said, automatically. Another Chandramaa arrow came through the broken glass, skimming the bottom of the chandelier and slamming into the stair railing. There was a note wrapped around the painted shaft. Liam reached up to snap it loose.

“Give us the queen,” he read out just as the phone rang.

Helena plucked it out of the cradle. I could see the deadly glint in her eye reflected in the mirror hanging over the table. I reached back to hold Nicholas’s hand. That look never boded well. “We don’t deal with cowards and terrorists,” she spat in the phone. “So you can take your—”

Liam grabbed the phone. Helena hissed at him and they had a mini tug-of-war over the receiver. Liam finally wrested it free but only after she broke his little finger. He set it with a crack and a telling glance that had her shrugging sheepishly.

“I can stop this,” Solange said as her dad spoke evenly and calmly into the phone. When no one answered her, she stepped toward the front door. Suddenly everyone leaped forward, crowding in front of her. She sighed. “This is ridiculous.”

“What else do you suggest, young lady?” Helena asked. “That we just let you waltz out there unprotected?”

“Just let me go out there and call off the Chandramaa and revoke your banishment. They have to listen to me, I’m their freaking queen, remember?” She grimaced slightly when she said the word ‘queen’ as if she couldn’t help herself. I wondered if she remembered lounging in the tent wearing a crown on her head.

“Constantine has other men,” Isabeau interjected. “It would be a mistake to assume it is only Chandramaa out there.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Solange argued. “They don’t want to hurt me.”

“No,” Helena said, but she was frowning thoughtfully.

“At least listen to me,” Solange retorted quietly. I could tell by the way she curled her fingers that she was trying not to nervously wipe her palms on her jeans. She occupied herself with fitting the dark-painted shield over her heart. “I know Viola well enough by now that I should be able to fool Constantine just long enough to get back inside the camp, especially if you put up a token fight so he doesn’t suspect anything.”

“It’s a good plan,” Liam agreed slowly, after hanging up. “There’s only one problem with it.”

“Which is?”

“Sending my baby girl out alone to that bloody lot of degenerates,” he replied acidly.

“Daddy, it’s the best way and you know it. I’m as safe with them as I am with you. They’re the only other ones left who don’t want to kill me, apparently.”

“Not precisely a winning argument,” Liam said, but he was half smiling. It made him look younger and just like Nicholas.

“You can follow us. That way, as soon as I get in there to call off the banishment, you’ll be right there already.”

“I hate every part of this plan,” Helena said darkly as I coughed on the smoke lingering in the hall. “Especially the part where you might just be right.”

“London died because of this stupid prophecy and these stupid politics,” Solange said. “If I can stop it but instead I sit here and let everyone else risk their lives then she died for nothing. And one of you might be next. What would that make me?”

I blinked. “London died?” I might not have liked her, but she didn’t deserve to be really dead.

Something that sounded like a small bomb went off somewhere at the end of the driveway.

“And the longer we wait here, the more danger Sebastian and Bruno are in,” Solange added as Byron hid under the library table. Boudicca went to the solarium and growled viciously through the glass. Helena swore.

“Okay,” she said finally, after she and Liam looked at each other. “We’ll go out first and clear a path. Solange, you go next. Quinn, Connor, Duncan, you take the rear guard in case anyone breaks through. Logan, Marcus, go around back. Isabeau?”

“I will fight,” she said.

“Thank you. Geoffrey and Hyacinth will stay with Christabel. Nicholas, you take Lucy home. Take the secret tunnel.” It was the one reserved for family emergencies. I wasn’t even sure my mom knew how to get to it.

“I can go alone,” I said. “They’re not after me.”

“No.” It was a Drake chorus, each voice with the same sharp tone. Even Isabeau chimed in.

“We are having a hell of a slumber party when this is over,” I said, hugging Solange hard.

“Chocolate death,” she agreed, hugging me back.

“You’ll kick ass,” I whispered. “And kick his once for me too. And call me when you can.”

She added a few more stakes to her belt and then added her leather jacket. She watched her parents cross the porch, staying low. An arrow hit one of the cars in the driveway.

“Goddamn it,” Duncan said.

“Ready?” Solange yelled over her shoulder. “Don’t kill them if you don’t have to, they think they’re doing their job,” she reminded them before kicking the door open and stalking outside. “Tristan!” she shouted, her voice sounding wobbly and delicate. “I’m here.”

She ran across the snow as if being chased. There was an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of swords clashing in the distance. I grabbed the bow and darted upstairs as the others slipped out the back door. Nicholas frowned at me from the bottom step. “Where are you going? Tunnels are generally underground, Hamilton.”

I snorted from the landing. “I’m not running away.”

He dashed up the staircase, groaning. “Don’t do this to me again.”

“I can help,” I insisted. “And I promise you can rescue me in a minute. Just let me clear the way a little first.” I went into Aunt Hyacinth’s room because it had the best vantage point from the window. Her pug, Mrs. Brown, tried to bite my ankle before she remembered she knew me. I slipped outside onto the widow’s walk and notched an arrow, smiling grimly. Nicholas tried to edge into the space with me but he banged into my elbow.

“Nicky, there’s not enough room for the overprotective boyfriend thing right now,” I said, elbowing him back. “But I could use your eyes,” I added. The moonlight and the snow made it easier but it was still too dark for me to see very well and I didn’t have night-vision goggles on me. I hadn’t even thought to pack them. Tonight was supposed to be the long-awaited family reconciliation party, not another ambush.

You’d think I’d learn.

Nicholas climbed up on the overhang, straddling the shingles. With his eyes gleaming and fangs out he looked like a particularly creepy gargoyle on a gothic mansion. “Ready?”

I lifted the bow again, sinking into my breath, finding that quiet center where nothing mattered except my fingers around the bowstring, the arrow and the path it needed to take. I shut out my boyfriend crouched above me, the cold wind, the howl of coyotes in the wood. I was the bow. I was the arrow.

“On your right, two o’clock,” Nicholas said.

I squinted, catching the shadow. I loosed an arrow, aiming it slightly to the right. I didn’t want to kill the vampire, as Solange said, just take him out of commission for the night. He flew off his feet, clutching the arrow in his shoulder.

“Nine o’clock, by the cedar hedge. Watch out for Quinn! ”

Very faintly I heard: “Lucy!”

I winced. “Oops.”

“He’s fine. Eleven o’clock, go low.”

Another arrow.

Solange was still running, crossing the field like a deer in hunting season.

“In the oak tree right of the driveway, up on a top branch,” he said. “Can you see?”

If I squinted, I could just make out a faint pale blur, and only because I knew exactly where to look. I took aim again and fired.

This target fired back.

The arrow slid with a violent twang into the very peak of the balcony’s overhang. An inch higher and it would have gotten Nicholas in the face, an inch lower and it would have scalped me. The fletching were red, like the arrow in Solange’s room. Chandramaa.

It was a warning shot. No one could have hit that target without being really, really good. Certainly good enough to take either one of us out. I exhaled sharply, my breath clouding in the cold.

“Okay, no more helping,” Nicholas said, sliding back down to the ground and shoving me back inside all in one fluid motion. “Let’s go.”

We raced around Aunt Hyacinth’s overdecorated tables full of knickknacks, Nicholas dragging me behind him like a kite. If he went any faster I might even get airtime. We went down two flights of stairs and passed the weapons room and the blood storage room before he slowed down. I was panting and jittery. Adrenaline, my old friend.

We went through the door to the regular tunnels, and down the damp corridor lit with blue emergency lights. The stone floor was slick with moisture. Nicholas was counting his steps. At eighty-three, he stopped abruptly and turned to the left. He ran his hand along the wall, dislodging dirt and spiders until he found a tiny nick a foot or so off the ground. He crouched and dug his thumb into it, turning hard. Instead of a regular door opening, there was a soft snick from the ceiling.

I blinked at the trapdoor. “Cool. I’m surprised you don’t have retina scans down here.”

“Technology breaks,” he replied, straightening. He pushed the door open and stale cold air drifted over us. “Usually at the worst possible time.”

I could just guess what Connor would have to say to that. Nicholas interlaced his fingers and made a step out of his hands. I settled my foot into it and he launched me up. I grabbed hold of the edge of the opening and struggled to pull myself up. I was inching across on my stomach, red-faced and gasping when he practically floated up beside me. I rolled over, covered in dust and spiderwebs.

There were no lights at all in this tunnel. It was so dark that once Nicholas closed the trapdoor behind us, I was disoriented. I couldn’t even see my own hands as I tried to sit up. If I’d been smart, I would have worn my regulation cargos with all their pockets. I was sure there were light sticks in most of them as part of standard procedure, not to mention a flashlight. I really needed to remember I was supposed to be a vampire hunter now. At least, part of the time.

Nicholas helped me up and I gripped his arm tightly as he led me down the corridor. I had no idea where we were or where we were going. I stumbled, tripping over a bit of uneven ground. It was so quiet I could hear the blood rushing in my ears, my uneven breath amplified and raspy. I scraped the back of my hand on the wall. We walked for at least ten minutes but I couldn’t really be sure. It was so strange to be in such complete blackness. Even time was too dark to see. We could have been here an hour.

Eventually, Nicholas stopped. The tunnel didn’t feel any different to me, it was still damp and rough and smelled like iron, but now there was the sound of a lock opening. A narrow door opened and we went through. Something swung, grazing my shoulder. I jumped, yelping.

“Rope ladder,” Nicholas told me. I could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll go up first and open the door and make sure it’s secure. Wait until I give you the all clear.”

In less than a minute the door creaked open. Leaves and moonlight drifted down. The air was cold and cleansing, chasing away the clinging mildew. “Another rope ladder,” I muttered. At least this one had actually rope steps, not just knots like the one I’d climbed in the treetops.

“Okay, Lucy,” Nicholas called down. “Come on up.”

“He makes it sound so easy.” It helped to mutter and mumble. It distracted me from the slick twine, the dizzying spinning that made me nauseated. My arm muscles muttered and mumbled too, finally giving in to out-and-out screaming. I was sweating by the time Nicholas grabbed my wrists and pulled me out.

The forest was beautiful and still all around us, like a painting. Snow clung to the bare branches and stars peeked through when the wind shifted. Ice glinted on the mossy trunks.

“We’ll have to walk from here,” Nicholas said. We started the long walk back to the school, moving quietly between the trees, holding hands. It was a stolen moment, sweet and swift. When we reached the road that led to the academy, I paused.

“School’s overrun with hunters,” I murmured. “And Huntsmen. So I’ll go from here on my own.”

The moment might have been sweet but the kiss scalded, like chili peppers in hot chocolate. By rights, the snow should have melted into puddles at our feet. I turned away reluctantly, toward the school buildings and the security lights; from one family to another.

I knew he was at the edge of the wintry woods, watching me. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel his presence, just as I felt him lope away when I texted him that I was safely on campus.