Bleeding Hearts
Page 39
“The worst of it is, she’s taken more Hel-Blar down than we have lately,” Helena said, disgusted. “Even with our new alliance with the Helios-Ra.”
“What’s this got to do with my niece?” Dad interrupted. “Or my daughter for that matter.”
Liam winced. “I suspect they meant to use Lucy as a liaison between the tribes.” Nicholas made a sound that was suspiciously like a growl. I actually felt it rumble through his chest. “She’s human-weak.” Now I was the one growling. “And easier to abduct. But she’s also like family to us, and as such, she has unusual influence.”
I preened a little inside at that statement. It was nice that someone remembered me—even if it was some crazy vampire woman. At least Liam admitted I was like family. I was really starting to think they’d forgotten.
“They have something planned for just before dawn.” Liam didn’t need to glance at his watch. He felt the waning of night in his bones. Nicholas felt it even more, being so young. In fact, he was already getting paler. And I had a feeling Solange’s eyes were very red behind her sunglasses. “We’d best get you and Lucy safely home now.” He looked up and smiled right at me in the reflection of the mirror. I jumped. “So you can come out now, Lucy.”
I poked my head out. “You know, it would be a lot easier if you just stopped trying to leave me out of stuff.”
“Mm-hmm. We’ll discuss it at a later date,” Liam replied, faintly amused. “But I doubt your parents would agree.”
I met Mom’s eyes. Her bindi was lopsided now; she’d moved it while rubbing her face. She always did that when she was upset. I thought about the conversation we’d had on my bed. Had that been only last night? I would never believe that I was better off without the Drakes and they without me. Growing up, I’d seen them more often than my own grandparents. They were part of my landscape. And if that particular landscape suddenly included earthquakes and volcanoes and mudslides, then too bad; I already built a house there and dug the well and planted crops. It was an analogy my parents had to understand. They were homesteaders; they knew that once you found your home, you dug your roots. Period.
“I’m already part of this,” I insisted softly. “You can’t undo my whole life and pretend it didn’t happen the way it did.” I was tired of having decisions like that made for me. I was sixteen, not six.
Mom sighed, looking away.
“We’ll take the truck and someone can drive Cass’s car home later,” Dad said, giving no indication that he’d even heard me.
Liam nodded. “Of course.”
“I’ll do it,” Nicholas offered.
Dad just nudged me out the front door. He wouldn’t even let me hug Nicholas good-bye. And Solange wasn’t saying anything or standing up for me like she usually did.
I called for Gandhi and he lumbered into the backseat with me, taking up most of the space. He leaned so heavily against me, I soon lost feeling in my arm. The truck was ancient enough that it had a cassette player and nowhere to plug in an iPod. And in this part of the mountains, we were lucky to get any radio stations at all, never mind without a heavy film of static. Mom turned it off, fingering the mala beads around her wrist. Dad was driving a little fast but no one minded. I stared out the window at the pine trees and cedar woods.
I wanted to crawl into my bed and wake up to a lukewarm shower because Christabel had used up the last of the hot water. I wanted her to ignore me while she ate her breakfast granola and tried to finish her book before school. I wanted Connor rolling his eyes at my mom when her mere presence near a computer made it malfunction.
I wanted people to stop trying to kill my boyfriend, my best friend, and, frankly, me.
Something moved up ahead.
It could have been a deer, about to bound in front of the truck. It happened all the time out here.
Somehow, I doubted it.
Apparently Dad did, too. He frowned. “Now what?”
I had to shove Gandhi over to fit between the front seats so I could get a better look out the windshield. The high beams speared the road, gilded the edge of the bulrushes in the ditches, and showed the faintest glimmer of movement at the top of the hill. I knew that kind of shuffle—not really a crawl, not quite a walk. I swallowed.
“Dad.”
“Yeah?”
“That’s not good.” I hit speed dial on my phone, calling Nicholas. Mom was already dialing, her eyes never leaving the shadows gathering on the hill.
“Helena,” she snapped. “Now. Past the pear orchards.”
“I know. We’ve already got the call.” I heard her voice, tinny through the phone. I switched off my call to Nicholas. “How do you know?”
“We’re surrounded,” Mom said between her teeth.
The rain had stopped but the shadows gleamed wetly, and blue. Gandhi growled, ears pricked, shoulders quivering with the urge to launch himself outside.
“You’re surrounded by Hel-Blar?” Helena shouted. “Go, go, go!” I didn’t know if she was yelling at us or the others.
Dad swore and kicked the truck into reverse. The tires squealed. More Hel-Blar shuffled out of the woods on either side and a clump of them gathered in the road behind us. Dad didn’t pause, just hit the gas harder.
“Hold on!” he yelled, and I grabbed Gandhi, who didn’t have the benefit of a seat belt. We hit the first Hel-Blar with a harsh thump. The next two leaped into the back of the truck and walked toward the very small window between them and me.
“What’s this got to do with my niece?” Dad interrupted. “Or my daughter for that matter.”
Liam winced. “I suspect they meant to use Lucy as a liaison between the tribes.” Nicholas made a sound that was suspiciously like a growl. I actually felt it rumble through his chest. “She’s human-weak.” Now I was the one growling. “And easier to abduct. But she’s also like family to us, and as such, she has unusual influence.”
I preened a little inside at that statement. It was nice that someone remembered me—even if it was some crazy vampire woman. At least Liam admitted I was like family. I was really starting to think they’d forgotten.
“They have something planned for just before dawn.” Liam didn’t need to glance at his watch. He felt the waning of night in his bones. Nicholas felt it even more, being so young. In fact, he was already getting paler. And I had a feeling Solange’s eyes were very red behind her sunglasses. “We’d best get you and Lucy safely home now.” He looked up and smiled right at me in the reflection of the mirror. I jumped. “So you can come out now, Lucy.”
I poked my head out. “You know, it would be a lot easier if you just stopped trying to leave me out of stuff.”
“Mm-hmm. We’ll discuss it at a later date,” Liam replied, faintly amused. “But I doubt your parents would agree.”
I met Mom’s eyes. Her bindi was lopsided now; she’d moved it while rubbing her face. She always did that when she was upset. I thought about the conversation we’d had on my bed. Had that been only last night? I would never believe that I was better off without the Drakes and they without me. Growing up, I’d seen them more often than my own grandparents. They were part of my landscape. And if that particular landscape suddenly included earthquakes and volcanoes and mudslides, then too bad; I already built a house there and dug the well and planted crops. It was an analogy my parents had to understand. They were homesteaders; they knew that once you found your home, you dug your roots. Period.
“I’m already part of this,” I insisted softly. “You can’t undo my whole life and pretend it didn’t happen the way it did.” I was tired of having decisions like that made for me. I was sixteen, not six.
Mom sighed, looking away.
“We’ll take the truck and someone can drive Cass’s car home later,” Dad said, giving no indication that he’d even heard me.
Liam nodded. “Of course.”
“I’ll do it,” Nicholas offered.
Dad just nudged me out the front door. He wouldn’t even let me hug Nicholas good-bye. And Solange wasn’t saying anything or standing up for me like she usually did.
I called for Gandhi and he lumbered into the backseat with me, taking up most of the space. He leaned so heavily against me, I soon lost feeling in my arm. The truck was ancient enough that it had a cassette player and nowhere to plug in an iPod. And in this part of the mountains, we were lucky to get any radio stations at all, never mind without a heavy film of static. Mom turned it off, fingering the mala beads around her wrist. Dad was driving a little fast but no one minded. I stared out the window at the pine trees and cedar woods.
I wanted to crawl into my bed and wake up to a lukewarm shower because Christabel had used up the last of the hot water. I wanted her to ignore me while she ate her breakfast granola and tried to finish her book before school. I wanted Connor rolling his eyes at my mom when her mere presence near a computer made it malfunction.
I wanted people to stop trying to kill my boyfriend, my best friend, and, frankly, me.
Something moved up ahead.
It could have been a deer, about to bound in front of the truck. It happened all the time out here.
Somehow, I doubted it.
Apparently Dad did, too. He frowned. “Now what?”
I had to shove Gandhi over to fit between the front seats so I could get a better look out the windshield. The high beams speared the road, gilded the edge of the bulrushes in the ditches, and showed the faintest glimmer of movement at the top of the hill. I knew that kind of shuffle—not really a crawl, not quite a walk. I swallowed.
“Dad.”
“Yeah?”
“That’s not good.” I hit speed dial on my phone, calling Nicholas. Mom was already dialing, her eyes never leaving the shadows gathering on the hill.
“Helena,” she snapped. “Now. Past the pear orchards.”
“I know. We’ve already got the call.” I heard her voice, tinny through the phone. I switched off my call to Nicholas. “How do you know?”
“We’re surrounded,” Mom said between her teeth.
The rain had stopped but the shadows gleamed wetly, and blue. Gandhi growled, ears pricked, shoulders quivering with the urge to launch himself outside.
“You’re surrounded by Hel-Blar?” Helena shouted. “Go, go, go!” I didn’t know if she was yelling at us or the others.
Dad swore and kicked the truck into reverse. The tires squealed. More Hel-Blar shuffled out of the woods on either side and a clump of them gathered in the road behind us. Dad didn’t pause, just hit the gas harder.
“Hold on!” he yelled, and I grabbed Gandhi, who didn’t have the benefit of a seat belt. We hit the first Hel-Blar with a harsh thump. The next two leaped into the back of the truck and walked toward the very small window between them and me.
