My Love Lies Bleeding (6 page)

I went out back to my little shed. The sun was soft on the clapboard siding and the kiln tucked into the back. I did need
my sunglasses but at least I didn’t feel as tired as I had last night. I knew that when it came to me, my entire family went
all overprotective and dramatic, so it was hard to know how many symptoms on their long list I could really expect.

I let myself into the studio and closed the door very deliberately. I wouldn’t think about it right now. It never helped anyway.
What did help was burying my hands in clay and the rhythmic spinning of my pottery wheel. It was dusty and quiet in here,
just how I liked it. The long window offered the distraction of the wild fields and forest when I needed them. My tools and
chemicals were stored in plastic tubs; the walls were fitted with wooden shelves all but groaning under the weight of bowls
and cups and oddly shaped vases. Lucy kept telling me I should take my stuff into the gallery shops by the lake to sell it.
It wasn’t a bad idea. Though most of them did their business during the daylight hours, Lucy would make deliveries for me
if I asked her to. It was something to think about.

If I survived my birthday, of course.

I scowled and attacked the clay. It was cool and obedient under my determined hands. I hated being frightened, almost as much
as I hated being coddled. I worked until the sun was dipping slowly behind the trees. Geese flew overhead, honking. I wasn’t
any closer to figuring out Kieran Black or the bounty or how to give in gracefully to the bloodchange, but at least I was
calmer. And possibly hungry again. I wiped my hands clean and went outside, inhaling deeply the fragrance of roses and wild
mint. I was thinking so hard I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings.

First mistake.

I might not have super hearing yet, but the arrow whistled so close to my head I could hear the air through the fletchings.
It thunked into one of the oak trees, showering splinters. At the same time, someone crashed into me, curling around me like
a particularly heavy parka.

“Oof! What—”

“Get down, you ijit!” It was Bruno. He only slipped back into his native Scottish accent when he was really pissed off . “Get
in the damn house.” He ran me up the porch steps. I felt like the president of a small country under attack. All he needed
was the ear transmitter and a pair of mirrored sunglasses. And a black suit— but I didn’t think he’d ever wear a tie, even
for us. He looked just like what he was: an ex- biker with a shaved head to disguise the balding, and tattoos from shoulder
to knuckle. He’d been working for us since before I was born. Bruno shoved me inside and slammed the door behind us.

“Stay here,” he barked, running back out, shouting orders into a walkie-talkie. The gardens were quiet; even the birds were
cheerfully oblivious. My heart was thumping wildly, making me feel dizzy. That arrow had been really close, too close. And
only one organization used wooden arrows of that style.

Helios-Ra.

I wondered if it had been Kieran, skulking in the shadows, waiting for me to turn my back. The sun glittered on the gravel
drive, the black iron fence. No vampire ancient enough to withstand this kind of a summer day would be able to sneak onto
the property. Someone would have scented his pheromones.

Bruno came back, eyeing me grimly. “The tunnels for you from now on, lassie.”

“Did you get him?”

“Not even a damned footprint.” He rubbed his head. “Get away from the window, Solange. It’s not safe.”

“This is getting ridiculous,” I muttered.

“Agreed,” he replied.

“I’m going to the loft,” I told him peevishly.

“Use the tunnel,” he repeated.

I went down into the basement and used the short passageway that linked the house to the garage. The second floor had been
converted into training space complete with floor mats, punching bags, a weight machine, and two treadmills. The back wall
was covered with fencing gear and swords. I didn’t bother with the uniform or the mask since I was practicing on my own. I
just needed the distraction. If pottery wasn’t enough to really calm me down, lunging and stabbing an imaginary foe would
have to do. I took up my favorite sword, or foil as it was called in fencing.

Out of habit I saluted my pretend opponent and bowed. Then I cross- stepped back and forward a few times to warm up. I lunged,
I stabbed, I parried and circular parried and disarmed. I lunged again and again until my thigh muscles ached and sweat spiked
my hair. I ducked right, I parried low, I jabbed high. Retreat, riposte, retreat, riposte.

I felt better until I happened to glance out the window and saw Bruno going back into the house, dragging a huge bag full
of packages and flowers. I tossed my foil aside and sprinted down the steps, through the tunnel and up to the front hall.
I scowled at the open bag, panting and scowling.

“What the hell is that?”

“More gifts, lass,” Bruno said. “We’re finding them all along the property line.”

For some reason, all those presents were really pissing me off. I jabbed my hand inside and pulled out postcards, a clump
of daisies, something that looked like a Ziploc bag full of blood.

“That’s disgusting.” I dropped it immediately. The light glinted off something silver and I pulled it out gingerly. It was
an apple, perfectly crafted out of silver, with a leaf dangling from the stem. The delicate leaf was engraved with a name:
Montmartre.

I put the apple aside so I could wipe my hands completely clean of Montmartre cooties, and it teetered on the edge of the
table. It hit the floor, and the top opened on tiny hinges I hadn’t seen. Blood poured out of the opening, thick and red.
The coppery smell made me gag but I didn’t have time to otherwise react. I was too busy staring out the front window.

“Where’s Lucy’s car?”

“You asshole!”

I didn’t think, just reacted with all the anger and guilt and worry I’d been carry ing around all day. I punched him right
in the nose. He reared back, grabbing his face.

“Shit, shit!”

“That’s right, you sneaky bastard.” I leaped to my feet, panting. “Use me against my best friend, will you?”

He reached into his pocket. I got to mine first, took out the pair of nose plugs I’d stashed there, just in case, and I shoved
them in.

“Oh, no you don’t,” I snapped, smug as a cat with a mouthful of canary feathers. I was going to redeem myself, if I had to
punch him ten more times to do it. My knuckles felt bruised, sore. Vindicated.

There was the teeniest, tiniest possibility my mom was right about my temper.

Kieran just blinked at me, bewildered. “Who taught you to punch like that?”

I smiled grimly. “The Drakes.” He shifted, as if he was going to get up. “Uh-uh. You stay right there or I’ll scream so loud
half the town will come running. You might be part of some secret club, but I can still get you arrested for being a creepy
stalker.” I noticed the way he was trying to look at the back of my neck, and my wrists. “And what the hell are you doing
now?”

“You don’t have any scars.”

“What?”

He pushed himself up so he wasn’t sprawled in the dirt. His nose looked sore but I hadn’t actually broken it. “Bloodslaves
have scars, from the feedings.”

“Don’t use that word, it’s insulting. And it makes me want to kick you. Hard.”

He held up his hands, palms out, as he stood up fully. I took a step back, raised a fist. I could see the hilt of a knife
in the top of his boot.

“You have to know that vampires murder people.” I could tell he was thinking about his father. Sometimes it was a real pain
that my own father had encouraged such a strong sense of empathy in me. He couldn’t have taught me math?

“They’re all the same.”

“Don’t make me punch you again. My hand already hurts.”

He nearly smiled. “You might be as scary as Helena Drake, one day.”

“I intend to be.”

“You’re well on your way.” He wiped blood off his face ruefully. A car passed by on the street.

“Leave them alone, Black.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is too. Helios-Ra has a treaty or what ever, so stick to it.”

“I’m a new agent. I only just turned eighteen. Do you really think I’m in charge over there? I have orders, just like everyone
else.”

“That’s convenient,” I sneered, gathering up my bags before turning away. “And totally lame.” I stopped at the driver’s-side
door. “Don’t be a lemming, Black.”

When I got back to the farm, one of the guards stepped out where I could see him and shook his head disapprovingly. Ooops.
I was already flinching when I let myself out of the car and Nicholas opened the screen door. So much for sneaking out and
then back in, none the wiser. Nicholas’s nostrils actually flared.

“Lucky.”

I flared mine back and felt like an idiot.

“Nicky.”

I pushed past him, then wished I could go back out onto the porch to fight with him. I’d take that over Solange’s pale, worried
face any day.

“Lucy, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Sol. I just needed supplies and to feed the cats.” I dropped my bags, felt Nicholas come up behind me. She looked
so relieved, it gave the guilt sharper teeth. No one else could make me feel so bad without saying a single word. Bruno was
doing a pretty good job though, looking like a disappointed parent before he went out to patrol.

“I’d have fed your bloody cats,” Nicholas muttered. He saw my drugstore bags, looked at me incredulously.

“You went to buy lipstick? At a time like this?”

“Yeah, that’s right, and an exfoliating mask. Don’t be an ass. I went for supplies.”

The sun filtered in through the window, and he flinched away, even though it was specially treated glass and he was in no
danger. He looked tired enough to fall over. Even the shadows under his eyes had shadows.

“You should be in bed.”

“I needed nose plugs.” I lifted the pair hanging on a string around my neck. “And they’ve already come in handy.”

He narrowed his eyes at me.

“Why?” He grabbed my wrist. “Why, Lucy?”

I tugged back but couldn’t break his hold.

“Because.” I stopped pulling. I’d only dislocate my own wrist. “I ran into Kieran Black. Literally.”

They both stared at me.

“What?” Solange finally squeaked.

Nicholas turned my hand over. His eyes flared, went the color of frost, at the blood on my knuckles. I shrugged sheepishly.

“I nearly broke his nose.” I half smiled. “I’ll have to try harder next time.”

He dropped my hand, stepped back. There was something fierce in his face, even when he smiled faintly.

“I guess I should be glad I’m not the only one you punch.”

I made a face at him and dropped into a chair. I was starting to ache in muscles I didn’t know I had. There were still roses
everywhere, and the smell was overpowering.

“Did he hurt you?” Solange’s face was stony.

“No, I’m fine.” I watched Nicholas trying not to weave on his feet. He looked as if he were standing on a particularly wave-tossed
boat. “Go back to sleep,” I said with more gentleness than I’d planned. I paled when something occurred to me. “You didn’t
tell your parents, did you?”

“No,” Solange said. “I only just found your note. I didn’t even get a chance to tell Nicholas. He just stumbled out of his
room, all freaked out.”

We both turned to look at him. I thought he might be blushing— if vampires could blush, that was.

“The house smelled wrong,” he muttered. He glared at us. “Shut up.” Then he went up the stairs. I raised my eyebrows.

“He’s getting weirder.”

Solange snorted, pulled out a handful of nose plugs, air freshener sprays, and a bowie knife from my plastic bags.

“So are you.”

I waited until we were alone before I hustled Solange into her room.

“What are you doing now?” she muttered when I shut her door and pressed my ear to the wood for a moment to make sure no one
was listening. And by no one, I meant Nicholas.

“Okay, I should totally be a spy.” I grinned at her. “All I need is some funky accent and I could be a Bond girl.”

She groaned. “What did you do?”

I laughed out loud. “Nope. Just a little souvenir from the Helios-Ra.” We sat on her bed and set the guide on the blanket
in front of us. We skimmed the index, snorted at the pompous introduction and the pseudo medieval oath new recruits had to
take. There was a bunch of stuff on hunter protocol that could come in useful someday. There was also a whole section on the
Drake family, and a page devoted just to Solange, listing her stats, like she was a rare kind of frog one could search for
in a swamp.

“It’s kind of creepy.” She made a face. “I’m starting to feel like the bearded lady at the carnival.”

“I would never let you grow a beard,” I assured her, trying to lighten the mood. If she hunched her shoulders any tighter,
her collarbone would shatter. “I’m way too good a friend for that.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“All in a day’s work.”

I tugged the book out of her hands before she could twist it in half. It flipped open. “Hey, no way. I’m in here too.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You are not.”

“I totally am.”

“Okay, that’s going too far.”

“Apparently, I’m brash and reckless.” I snorted. “Better than being a mindless droid to some secret society.” I did a double
take. “Did you know one of my strengths is annoying Nicholas?”

She laughed despite herself. “Okay, that part’s true.”

“Shut up, he’s the one who annoys me.” I tapped the book thoughtfully. “Hmmm.”

“Oh, God. That‘hmmm’ is never good.”

I ignored her and reached for the phone. “They know all about us, shouldn’t we know a little about them too?”

“How? You can’t just phone up a secret society.”

“Maybe not. I mean, Kieran might not have a MySpace page, but he has to live somewhere, doesn’t he? He’s not like Black Ops
or anything, right?”

“I guess not. Wait, what are you doing?” she asked as I dialed 411.

“Shh. Hello? Kieran Black in Violet Hill. Address unknown.” I covered the mouthpiece. “I need a pen.” She ran to her desk
and practically threw one at me. I wrote on the back of the guide. “Thank you,” I said before hanging up.

Solange and I smiled at each other, and it felt like the smile of two lionesses about to take down a gazelle.

I pushed each number as if I were squishing a bug. Kieran picked up on the first ring.

“Mom, for the third time, I’ve got the milk—”

“It’s not your mom,” I interrupted, smirking at Solange.

“Who is this?” he asked suspiciously.

“It’s Lucy.”

“You’re listed, genius. So you can add that to your little guidebook. I’m not only reckless, I’m resourceful too. And Solange
isn’t solitary, she just doesn’t like you.” She had a weird look on her face. “Are you okay?” I whispered to her. “Lie down.”
I could hear Kieran shuffling the phone, probably searching his pockets.

“You took my guide!”

“Yup. You want it back? Meet us tonight.” Solange’s eyes widened. I waved away her concern.

“I can get another guidebook,” he told me.

“Yeah, but how would it look for a new recruit to have lost it to one of your profiles?” I had him there. “Besides, you owe
me, Black.” And there.

He sighed, like an old man. “I don’t actually owe you, Hamilton.”

“Do so. ”

“Does Solange know you’re doing this?”

Interesting. “Yes, she knows. Don’t you think she’s tired of playing monkey in the middle for you people? Ow, what?” That
last part I said into the air since Solange had grabbed the phone from me, scratching me in the process.

“My nickname is not ‘Princess,’ ” she said witheringly. “Fine. After sunset.” Her voice hardened. “Come alone.”