Blood Prophecy
Page 50
Constantine snarled, wiping blood from his side. His violet eyes locked on me, snapping to the copper collar swinging around my arm. I stumbled back a step, trying to figure out how to reach Solange without turning my back on him. I wanted to make a run for it but I knew I’d never make it.
“You,” he said darkly, stalking toward me so quickly his hair flattened back away from his face. He was gorgeous, plain and simple. He downright smoldered. But that wasn’t enough for Solange. There was something else going on here. “You get away from her.” He seethed. Solange hissed behind me. The dogs barked and snapped at her knees.
I had nowhere to go. I was about to be skewered inside an undead vampire sandwich with a side of dog teeth. Karma for hitting Solange with a car. Not to mention Tasering her just last month.
The twins were currently trapped under dogs. Logan and Magda were trying not to get mushroom stench all over them, and Kieran was still on the ground, a hand pressed to a bloody gash on his head. Isabeau tossed handfuls of herbs on the ground, a dog-bone rattle in her other hand. She was chanting something under her breath.
Constantine reached for me. I tossed the collar toward Isabeau. Constantine veered toward it. Isabeau didn’t even look up from her ritual preparations. She just swung around, slamming her boot into his chest. He grunted in pain, and I heard ribs crack as he flew away from me. Isabeau caught the collar, returning to her chanting before he’d landed. He crashed, skidding through the snow so deeply he left a groove in the grass underneath.
Constantine landed next to Kieran, who shot his arm out, releasing the Hypnos strapped under his cuff. “Stay down, you son of a bitch.”
The white powder drifted over Constantine, and he stayed sprawled on the ground, gnashing his teeth with fury. Isabeau snapped her fingers, and several dogs paced around him, snarling. Charlemagne’s giant paws pressed into his wounded side. Constantine wheezed, blood staining the corner of his mouth.
I spun back to face Solange. Her face contorted, glaring at me, at the dogs, at Isabeau, who was burning some kind of incense in a long dish that looked like a hollowed-out dog femur. “Solange, if you can hear me, we’re trying to help you.”
Her lips lifted off her teeth. “I don’t need help from a human.”
“Get out of her, you bitch!” My dad would have said name-calling was a refuge for the weak and ignorant. I didn’t care. I was about to do a lot worse.
“No.” She smirked, even though her dress was stained with blood where the dogs were nipping at her legs. I couldn’t quite reach her. Even with the dogs, she’d be able to knock the collar out of my hand before I got it around her neck. She might even bite my fingers right off my hand.
“Okay, next plan,” I muttered. I tried not to give myself away with a wince before I aimed the crossbow at her and released the trigger. Constantine yelled but he seemed very far away. The world narrowed down to the arrow, to the stiff black fletchings, and the pointed arrowhead. My breath stuck in my throat. I could only hope my aim was as good as everyone claimed, including me.
Because I was taking a hell of a risk. Even if I hadn’t aimed for her heart . . .
An inch too low or too high or too far to the left, and I’d turn my best friend into ashes.
The moment stretched and stretched, unbearable in its jagged tension. It finally shattered when the arrow slammed into Solange, throwing her back and pinning her to a tree with a violent bloody jolt. She hissed with pain. She jerked and flailed but wasn’t able to get free. Blood bloomed along her collar and dripped down her useless arm. She was hurting, she was furious, and she hated me.
But at least she wasn’t a pile of ash.
“Collar!” I stuck my arm out without looking, knowing Isabeau would kick it to me. I caught it, the cold copper edges digging into my palm. I darted forward, the dogs scattering. “I’m sorry, Sol. God, I’m so sorry,” I babbled.
“Kill her,” she shrieked, pheromones shooting off her like darts. They didn’t affect me like the others but even I felt a little fuzzy. And I could smell dead roses and chocolate. Quinn was the first to get free and stagger to his feet. He ran at me, blurring, fangs elongating, hiss snaking out into the cold air.
Kieran threw a stake at him but it missed.
Quinn gathered speed.
And at the last moment, just as the cold air buffeted me, warning me of his imminent descent, Connor was suddenly there. He’d been far enough away from Solange, since the arrow had tossed her back several feet, that he wasn’t affected by her pheromones anymore. He tackled his twin and they tumbled through the snow, dogs nipping at their heels.
I jerked back, physically unable to contain the sudden slap of not actually being dead.
Solange blinked, blood leaking from the corner of her eyes. “Lucy?” Her voice was small, tentative.
I froze. “Sol?”
She shifted, cringing when the movement yanked on the hole on her shoulder. “What’s happening?” She glanced down at the arrow. “What did I do? What did I do?” she asked frantically.
“Solange.” Kieran stumbled around Isabeau, hope making him look younger. I could almost imagine the Kieran who had apparently filled the school birdbaths with red Jell-o. “Finally.”
She tried to smile at him over my shoulder. “So . . . sorry . . .” She looked at me, all three set of fangs wickedly long. Blue veins throbbed under her pale skin. She gritted her teeth. “I’m trying to hold her . . . Can’t . . .”
“You,” he said darkly, stalking toward me so quickly his hair flattened back away from his face. He was gorgeous, plain and simple. He downright smoldered. But that wasn’t enough for Solange. There was something else going on here. “You get away from her.” He seethed. Solange hissed behind me. The dogs barked and snapped at her knees.
I had nowhere to go. I was about to be skewered inside an undead vampire sandwich with a side of dog teeth. Karma for hitting Solange with a car. Not to mention Tasering her just last month.
The twins were currently trapped under dogs. Logan and Magda were trying not to get mushroom stench all over them, and Kieran was still on the ground, a hand pressed to a bloody gash on his head. Isabeau tossed handfuls of herbs on the ground, a dog-bone rattle in her other hand. She was chanting something under her breath.
Constantine reached for me. I tossed the collar toward Isabeau. Constantine veered toward it. Isabeau didn’t even look up from her ritual preparations. She just swung around, slamming her boot into his chest. He grunted in pain, and I heard ribs crack as he flew away from me. Isabeau caught the collar, returning to her chanting before he’d landed. He crashed, skidding through the snow so deeply he left a groove in the grass underneath.
Constantine landed next to Kieran, who shot his arm out, releasing the Hypnos strapped under his cuff. “Stay down, you son of a bitch.”
The white powder drifted over Constantine, and he stayed sprawled on the ground, gnashing his teeth with fury. Isabeau snapped her fingers, and several dogs paced around him, snarling. Charlemagne’s giant paws pressed into his wounded side. Constantine wheezed, blood staining the corner of his mouth.
I spun back to face Solange. Her face contorted, glaring at me, at the dogs, at Isabeau, who was burning some kind of incense in a long dish that looked like a hollowed-out dog femur. “Solange, if you can hear me, we’re trying to help you.”
Her lips lifted off her teeth. “I don’t need help from a human.”
“Get out of her, you bitch!” My dad would have said name-calling was a refuge for the weak and ignorant. I didn’t care. I was about to do a lot worse.
“No.” She smirked, even though her dress was stained with blood where the dogs were nipping at her legs. I couldn’t quite reach her. Even with the dogs, she’d be able to knock the collar out of my hand before I got it around her neck. She might even bite my fingers right off my hand.
“Okay, next plan,” I muttered. I tried not to give myself away with a wince before I aimed the crossbow at her and released the trigger. Constantine yelled but he seemed very far away. The world narrowed down to the arrow, to the stiff black fletchings, and the pointed arrowhead. My breath stuck in my throat. I could only hope my aim was as good as everyone claimed, including me.
Because I was taking a hell of a risk. Even if I hadn’t aimed for her heart . . .
An inch too low or too high or too far to the left, and I’d turn my best friend into ashes.
The moment stretched and stretched, unbearable in its jagged tension. It finally shattered when the arrow slammed into Solange, throwing her back and pinning her to a tree with a violent bloody jolt. She hissed with pain. She jerked and flailed but wasn’t able to get free. Blood bloomed along her collar and dripped down her useless arm. She was hurting, she was furious, and she hated me.
But at least she wasn’t a pile of ash.
“Collar!” I stuck my arm out without looking, knowing Isabeau would kick it to me. I caught it, the cold copper edges digging into my palm. I darted forward, the dogs scattering. “I’m sorry, Sol. God, I’m so sorry,” I babbled.
“Kill her,” she shrieked, pheromones shooting off her like darts. They didn’t affect me like the others but even I felt a little fuzzy. And I could smell dead roses and chocolate. Quinn was the first to get free and stagger to his feet. He ran at me, blurring, fangs elongating, hiss snaking out into the cold air.
Kieran threw a stake at him but it missed.
Quinn gathered speed.
And at the last moment, just as the cold air buffeted me, warning me of his imminent descent, Connor was suddenly there. He’d been far enough away from Solange, since the arrow had tossed her back several feet, that he wasn’t affected by her pheromones anymore. He tackled his twin and they tumbled through the snow, dogs nipping at their heels.
I jerked back, physically unable to contain the sudden slap of not actually being dead.
Solange blinked, blood leaking from the corner of her eyes. “Lucy?” Her voice was small, tentative.
I froze. “Sol?”
She shifted, cringing when the movement yanked on the hole on her shoulder. “What’s happening?” She glanced down at the arrow. “What did I do? What did I do?” she asked frantically.
“Solange.” Kieran stumbled around Isabeau, hope making him look younger. I could almost imagine the Kieran who had apparently filled the school birdbaths with red Jell-o. “Finally.”
She tried to smile at him over my shoulder. “So . . . sorry . . .” She looked at me, all three set of fangs wickedly long. Blue veins throbbed under her pale skin. She gritted her teeth. “I’m trying to hold her . . . Can’t . . .”
