My Love Lies Bleeding (8 page)

“Crap.” My eyes widened. “Both of them? Tonight?”

“Solange can’t go now,” Nicholas said. “It isn’t safe.”

London quirked an eyebrow. “You know as well as I do that it isn’t a request. Just be grateful I was already in the area so
Lady Nastasha didn’t need to send one of her Araksaka boys.” The Araksaka were feared. Every single one of them wore Lady
Natasha’s royal tattoo on their faces. They were her private army and answered only to her. Ever. And they were utterly ruthless
about it; not only killing but torturing as well.

“Hell,” Quinn muttered.

“Fine.” I wiped my hands off on my pants. “Let’s get this over with.”

London shook her head. “You are not going dressed like that.” I blinked down at my T-shirt and cargos, which only had one
smear of dried clay on the cuff. “You’d be laughed out of the Hall. And Lady Natasha’d be insulted, having granted you a temporary
reprieve from exile. Not to mention what Veronique would do.”

“Shouldn’t have exiled the Drakes in the first place,” Lucy muttered.

“She had to, because of the prophecy. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Give me a break.” Lucy visibly bristled at the disdain in London’s voice. “I probably know more about your own history than
you do. The prophecy was recorded during the reign of Henry the Eighth, after he cut off Anne Boleyn’s head. Some old madwoman
in Scotland went into a trance and babbled about a blood-born Drake woman ruling over the tribes, and when Solange was born
you all freaked out about it, including Lady Natasha.” She looked proud of herself. “See? I totally get it. Although, I don’t
get why she’s not Queen Natasha instead of Lady Natasha? Wouldn’t that make more sense?”

“She hasn’t had a coronation,” Logan explained. “She’s technically not queen, because we technically don’t have queens. We
have autonomous tribes and civil wars and a love of tradition.”

“So what’s the big deal about Solange stealing her crown then? If it’s all semantics?”

“The tribes are letting Lady Natasha play queen because she used to be part of the Host and she knows their ways. And she
claimed power back in the twenties, before any of us were even born and a Drake daughter wasn’t even an issue. Drake women
were discouraged from court but not outright exiled until Solange was born.”

“She sounds like a piece of work.”

“Until Solange,” Nicholas added grimly.

“Exactly.” Logan nodded. “Half the courts would defect to Solange if given the chance. Natasha might be our best bet, but
she’s also a power-hungry cow and still totally obsessed with Montmartre. Everyone knows that.”

“Why didn’t she exile you too?” Lucy asked London.

“I’m not really a Drake.” London looked annoyed at having to answer the question.

“Are so.” I frowned at her. She just shrugged.

“It’s different for me. Anyway, you should be grateful for the exile. She could have just had Solange killed at birth, you
know.”

“And make her a martyr?” Connor asked. “Or draw Veronique out and have to deal with her wrath? Or have it look as if she might
not believe herself to be the rightful queen after all?”

“I know what I am, London.”

“Well, then. Start looking the part.”

“So now it’s a fashion show, too?” I grumbled, following London and Lucy to my room. London went straight to my closet, made
a face.

“Solange, honestly.”

“What?”

“You can’t wear any of this.”

“She can wear something of mine,” Lucy suggested. “I have better taste.”

Lucy, notorious for overpacking, pulled a dress out of her bag. It was more like a silk slip with lace on the hem and loops
of beaded fringe she’d sewn to the straps. It was the exact color of red wine.

“It’ll have to do,” London said grudgingly.

I changed quickly, nerves fluttering in my belly. Dressing up like I was going to a high school dance was making me even more
anxious. I put on a pair of Chinese slippers and the silver bracelet Hyacinth had given me last year.

My brothers lined up in the foyer, each wearing his best clothes. Sebastian was even wearing a suit. Logan was the only one
who hadn’t had to change. He was always stylish.

“You’re not all coming with us,” I said, pausing on the bottom step.

“Damn right we are,” Connor said.

“What about Lucy? You heard what Mom said.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said from behind me on the landing. “Don’t worry about me.”

I glared at my brothers mutinously. “We are not leaving her here alone.”

Nicholas pushed away from the wall. “I’m staying.”

“You don’t have to,” Lucy muttered.

“Good,” I said, ignoring her. My mouth was dry. “Let’s go.”

The very second the door closed behind them, Nicholas started shouting. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised.

“I can’t believe you did that!” he railed. “After the field party, the vamps in the garden. Didn’t you hear a single word
I said?”

“No, why don’t you yell a little louder?”

“This isn’t funny, Lucy.”

“I never said it was.” I crossed my arms and watched him stomping furiously around the foyer. “We did what we had to do. It
was worth a try.”

“He could have killed her. And you.” He slammed his hand down on a side table, dislodging a vase of roses. It fell to the
floor, cracking on the marble. Water and rose petals clung to his boots.

“But he didn’t.” The truth was I was still feeling the adrenaline. I curled my hands into fists so he wouldn’t see the way
they were trembling. Maybe I wasn’t made for this spy stuff after all. “And anyway, you went out there and fought a bunch
of pheromone-crazed vamps and we didn’t lecture you.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Right.”

“For one thing, I’m a lot harder to kill than you two.”

It was hard to argue with that. “Well, what ever,” I mumbled lamely.

We glowered at each other for a while longer. For the first time, I could really see the worry etched around his eyes and
the way his mouth tightened. He wasn’t just pale, he was faintly gray. We must have really scared him. I tried to imagine
what he’d felt seeing his baby sister and her best friend in the woods at night with a Helios-Ra hunter. I sighed. “As much
fun as it is to stand around here yelling at each other, do you think maybe we could do something else for now?”

He jerked his hand through his hair. “It’s pretty late. You could go to bed.”

“Are you kidding?” I stared at him. “Like I could sleep.”

“It’ll be hours before we hear anything.”

I bit my lower lip. “Is Veronique really that scary?”

He looked up, nodded once. “There’s just something about her.”

“She wouldn’t hurt Solange, would she?”

“No, she’s really big on family and tradition and all that. It’s the royal courts I’m worried about.”

“Did you reach your parents yet?”

“No.”

“Crap.”

“Yup.”

“Why don’t you call up another vampire hunter for tea?” he suggested drily. He looked calmer though, less like he was clenching
his jaw so hard he’d snap off a fang. “How did you manage that, anyway?”

“I called the operator. His number was listed.”

“Seriously?”

“And I picked his pocket.” I preened like a peacock.

Nicholas shook his head, grinning that rare crooked grin that made my stomach flutter. “You didn’t.”

“I totally did. And I found this Helios-Ra handbook guide to vampires. I guess all the recruits get a copy. I was even in
it; I’m a Person of Interest. Go me.”

I thought he’d get a chuckle out of it, but his face went so cold I had to stop myself from shivering.

“What?” he asked with deadly calm. “Helios-Ra has targeted you?”

I shook my head enthusiastically. “No, nothing like that, don’t worry. It’s just a profile page. Solange had one too.” His
jaw clenched again. Oops. Shouldn’t have mentioned that. God, maybe he was right. I do have a big mouth. I tried a soothing
smile. “Really, it’s okay. Anyway, we made photocopies of everything on Sol’s printer. And we had Connor doing his computer
geek thing before London dropped in to be her usual sunny self.” I tilted my head. “Your computer’s faster than Solange’s
laptop. Think we could find something on the bounty or Helios-Ra? Anything?”

He looked thoughtful. “It beats sitting around here waiting. Connor’s the one with the Internet mojo though, not me.”

I shrugged. “Worth a try.” Anything to fill the time, because otherwise I was going to bounce between worrying about my best
friend and wondering when her brother got so freaking hot. Neither of those appealed to me as a sane pastime.

We went up to the attic floor, which had been converted into seven bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a sitting room—all without
a single window anywhere. Nicholas’s room was the smallest; there was space only for a bed, a dresser, and his desk. I had
to sit on the edge of the bed since there was no other chair. It was only half-made, with a navy blue blanket. The last time
I’d been up here there had been pirate sheets and wooden swords.

I looked around curiously. There was an iPod dock and stacks of music magazines and clothes in a pile in the corner. There
was also a small photograph on his nightstand. It was of the two of us on my fifteenth birthday. I was laughing, the light
glinting off my glasses and the sequins on my scarf, and Nicholas was turned toward me, with serious eyes and a half grin.
I touched the frame.

“I’ve never seen this picture,” I said quietly. I kind of wanted to ask him if I could get a copy, but I didn’t want to sound
sappy. He looked over his shoulder from where he was booting up his computer.

“It’s . . .” He grabbed it, stuffed it into the top drawer of his desk. “It’s nothing.”

Liar. Still, even though I knew it wasn’t nothing, I didn’t know what it actually meant, either. It was probably no big deal.
I shouldn’t read into it. I couldn’t help smiling, though.

“Stop that,” he muttered, not even looking up from the keyboard. I smiled wider. “I mean it.”

“So how do we find and infiltrate the database of a secret society?” I asked.

“I have no idea.”

I scooted to the edge of the bed so I could see what he was typing. “Hey, you do have some mojo,” I said approvingly. The
screen was a garble of HTML codes. “I can’t even read that.”

“Don’t get too excited,” he warned me. He typed for a bit, waited, typed some more. I watched, got bored, lay back on the
bed, and stared at the ceiling. He put music on, choosing some of my favorite bands. He typed some more. I felt my eyes drifting
shut despite myself.

“Think your boyfriend would mind the photo?” he finally asked quietly, so quietly I barely heard him.

That woke me up. “What boyfriend?” I sat up. “I have a boyfriend now?”

“Jett or Julius or what ever his name is.”

“Julian?” I blinked, confused. “You’re way out of the loop. Julian dumped me during exams. Well, actually, he didn’t even
really dump me. I just found him with his tongue in Jennifer King’s mouth.”

“You don’t sound torn up about it.”

“Please, it was forever ago. I called him names, and then when I got home I realized I didn’t actually care. I didn’t even
bother with the requisite breakup hot fudge sundae.”

“Oh.”

I didn’t know what to do with this Nicholas. It felt like we were about to have a moment. We’d never really had a moment.
Okay, we’d had that kiss—make that two kisses. But they weren’t real, were they? The first was in the interest of subterfuge,
the second a scientific test of my immunity to pheromones. I swallowed, suddenly nervous. I hadn’t been expecting a moment.

“Got something.”

Which was for the best because I clearly wasn’t going to get one. I tried not to feel disappointed.

“What did you find?” I asked, pretending my voice hadn’t squeaked.

“I’m not sure yet but it’s got more security than I’ve ever seen.” He frowned. “I can’t crack this. I’m not even sure Connor
can.”

“But he has a place to start, right?”

“I guess. For what it’s worth.” He pushed away from the desk.

“We had to try.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t look pleased. I nudged his foot with my boot.

“Want to crank call Kieran?”

He sat next to me, smiling. “Maybe later. Nothing gets you down, does it?”

“Sure it does.” He was close enough that his knee brushed mine. “When this is all over I’ll have myself a good cry and a pity-party.
Right now, I just don’t have the time.”

“You’re kind of amazing.”

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, flushing. It was odd to get a compliment like that from him. And really nice.
“Solange says I’m kind of evil.”

“That too.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” he replied warily.

“Were you scared during your bloodchange?”

He stilled. “Yes.”

“Did it hurt?” I couldn’t stand the thought of Solange suffer-ing. It wasn’t fair. She was too good a person to go through
all of this.

“Some. Mostly I just felt weak and exhausted, like I had a really bad fever. By the time I lost consciousness I didn’t really
care anymore. I was too tired.”

I was sorry now that I’d been locked out of the house, that I couldn’t have been there for him. I could easily picture him
writhing in pain on this bed, soaked in sweat, delirious. “Geoffrey says it’s kind of like a battle.”

“It is. It feels like you’re hallucinating though and even now it’s hazy. I’m not sure what was real and what wasn’t.”

I touched his knee. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“Don’t be.”

“Solange is really strong,” I said it again. “Stronger than everyone thinks she is.”

“I know.”

“What got you through?” I whispered. “Do you remember?”

He nodded but wouldn’t look at me. When he didn’t elaborate, I turned to face him. “What? Is it a secret? Don’t I know all
the deep dark Drake secrets by now?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “I guess.”

“What then?”

“You.”

I swallowed, stunned. “Me?”

“Yeah.” He stood up and went to the door, where he paused for the barest second. “You got me through.”