My Love Lies Bleeding (4 page)

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Authors: Alyxandra Harvey

BOOK: My Love Lies Bleeding
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“Are you okay?” Lucy asked me as we got ready for bed. She started by taking off the pounds of silver jewelry she always wore—proving
that it’s only a myth that vampires can’t tolerate silver.

“I’m fine, it’s everyone else who’s losing it,” I muttered.

She snorted. “Big surprise. You’re the baby sister and you
know
how your brothers get.”

I rolled my eyes. “What’s it like being an only child?”

“How would I know? Your brothers harass me just as much as they harass you.”

“True.”

Lucy waited until we’d changed into our pajamas before speaking again. She wore a long black cotton nightgown that looked
like a sundress, and I wore my favorite flannel pj bottoms and a T-shirt. Out of the two of us, she always looked like the
one who should be turning into a vampire. I sighed.

“Sol,” she said. “I never saw Nicholas’s bloodchange, or Logan’s. I was banned from the house, remember?”

“I remember,” I said softly. I hadn’t been kicked out of the house, but I certainly hadn’t been welcomed on the third floor,
where all my brothers slept. I’d heard the unnatural silence and seen my parents’ pale, worried faces as they took shifts
sitting with Logan and then Nicholas the next year. With my other brothers I’d been too young to really know what was happening,
and my parents had sent me off for slumber parties at Lucy’s. Her mother had fussed over me and fed me chocolate, which made
Lucy cranky since she only ever got to eat carob. I hadn’t really understood it then.

I understood it now.

“So . . . what really happens?” Lucy pressed. “I know you get sick, but is it as bad as all that?”

It really was.

“No, it’s fine,” I lied as we climbed into our respective beds. “I mean, it’s not fun or anything, but you know the Drakes.
We love a good overprotective melodrama.”

Yup, totally lying.

And I could tell Lucy wasn’t really buying it. She opened her mouth to ask me another question. A soft knock at the door interrupted
her. She shot me a glare like I’d orchestrated it.

“Sol, it’s me,” Nicholas murmured from the other side of the door. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” I said as Lucy sat up suddenly and smoothed her hair. I blinked at her. Since when did she care what she looked like
for any of my brothers? The door didn’t make a sound on its hinges as Nicholas slipped inside. He was wearing his black pants
but no shirt, like he’d been interrupted changing. Clearly something was up. Just as clearly, Lucy was trying not to stare
at his chest. He flicked her a glance, frowned.

“What?”

She jerked her eyes away. “Nothing.” She looked like she might be blushing. I was definitely going to bug her about that later.
For now, it would have to wait.

“What’s up?” I asked him.

“Someone’s downstairs,” he said quietly. “He scratched at the window and Dad let him in after Mom threatened to eat his face.”

“Ew,” Lucy said.

“Vampire.”

“Lurking at the windows?” I slid out from under my blanket. “That’s not good.”

“They’re in the library.”

We looked at each other, then nodded and hurried out to the hall without another word. The library was one of the only rooms
in the house where we could properly eavesdrop. We’d discovered, thanks to a tip from Quinn, that if you lie on the floor
in the spare guest room next to mine and pressed your ear to the vent, you could pretty much hear everything that was going
on.

We stretched out on the hardwood and wriggled into position. Nicholas was between us, hogging the best listening spot. His
face was turned toward Lucy.

“I can’t hear—” He pressed his finger to her lips to stop her from saying anything else. My parents would hear us if we whispered
right over the vent. There were definite disadvantages to having vampire parents: sneaking around was nearly impossible. At
least come my birthday, I wouldn’t be the only one clomping around the house deaf to all the intrigue. I’d hear as well as
them.

“Is there a single reason why we shouldn’t stake you where you stand?” my mom asked pleasantly.

“I’m not here for the bounty,” a male voice assured her. It was low and rumbly, as if it came from a really big chest. I couldn’t
help but imagine a wrestler down in the library. “I would hardly announce my presence, would I?”

“You didn’t exactly knock at the front door,” Dad said drily.

“There are humans in this house,” he said as if that was explanation enough. “I smell at least two, but not here in this room.”
If we were really lucky, he wouldn’t smell Lucy and me over his head before we heard what else he had to say.

“I’ve come to offer my allegiance to your daughter.”

On second thought, I could have done without hearing that.

“Have you?” Mom didn’t sound convinced. Dad was probably overjoyed at the thought of negotiating another alliance. I kind
of just wanted to go back to bed.

“You’re sworn to Lady Natasha,” Dad said softly. “You wear the mark of her house.”

“I’m sworn to the royal court, yes.” It was an important distinction. “But there are those of us who would rather oath to
the House of Drake, and I am here representing them.”

Crap. That prophecy thing again. Why didn’t anyone believe me when I said I didn’t want to be a princess or a queen or whatever?
I didn’t want to be the excuse for a civil war within the tribes. I shuddered.

“We’ll keep that in mind. We’d need proof of your loyalty, of course.”

“Of course. When the time comes, you’ll get your proof.” He sounded like he was bowing. “Until then.”

I heard the window shut and Mom and Dad moved out of the library. I sighed and closed my eyes. I’d felt fine all day but now
I was exhausted, almost like I had the flu.

“I’m sorry I almost left you behind,” Nicholas whispered tightly to Lucy. “I really thought they’d follow us and you’d be
safer at the party.

What?” he asked when she didn’t immediately respond.

“You’ve never apologized to me before.”

“I said I was sorry the time I used your doll for target practice with the pellet gun.”

“Because your mom had you by the ear.”

“Well, what ever. Sorry.”

“Thanks,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered back.

I suddenly felt like a third wheel. Weird.

Nicholas scrambled to his feet. “We should go.”

“She’s asleep,” Lucy said. I wasn’t, but I didn’t have the energy to tell her that.

“I’ve got her,” Nicholas said grimly, picking me up and carry ing me to my room.

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 spiderweb-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.

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