Blood Prophecy
Page 52
“Wait.” I grabbed Kieran’s coat before he could take off. “You’re the hunter boy scout. Do you have matches or something?”
Kieran pulled a lighter out of one of his cargo pockets. “Standard issue, upper left pocket,” he said with a grin. “We have to get you into a school uniform.”
“Just as soon as I can paint vampire happy faces all over them.”
Nicholas was already sliding under the back of the car. Quinn and Magda were both laughing like undead hyenas. Vampire battles were so fast they made my brain hurt. I was panting and exhausted even though I’d barely moved. Kieran took off to grab the rope from the trunk. The car rattled and shuddered. There was the sound of metal grinding against metal and then the sharp cloying fumes of gasoline pouring out, and mixing with the smell of rot. Nicholas crawled back out covered in snow and engine grease. The gas tank was ripped open but it still sloshed impressively.
“Got it!” he called out. “Fall back.” Nicholas didn’t usually give his brothers orders and they didn’t usually listen. But this time Quinn and Connor both obeyed and even Magda fell back. Nicholas sacrificed a little of the gasoline, sloshing it over the car. The chemicals left in the engines would have to do the rest of the work. We took off at a dead run, crowding in a protective circle around the tree. Charlemagne leaped through the snow to land beside Isabeau.
“Go!” Magda ordered the rest of the dogs. “Home!”
They took off into the forest as Nicholas stuffed the rope into the tank to soak up the gasoline. “Let me go,” Solange shrieked. She kept screaming until she was hoarse.
Quinn grabbed the end of the rope and stretched it out into a circle around us. When he was well out of the way, Kieran lit one end. The fire sputtered, smoked, and finally traveled slowly from end to end. Smoke and fumes seared the air.
Connor grabbed the lighter from Kieran. “Hey!” Quinn shouted. Whoever dashed out through the flames to set the car on fire would be vulnerable. And they might not make it back through the circle if it finally burned the way we wanted it to.
“You may be prettier.” Connor grinned. “But I’m faster.”
“You’re both pretty and you’re both idiots,” I said. “Stay in the circle.” I dipped the end of my last arrow into the tiny bit of gasoline left in the tank and armed the crossbow. “I got this one.”
I lit the arrow, fire engulfing the steel tip. It would melt through the plastic of the bow and fry the mechanisms if I waited too long. I aimed carefully, holding my breath so I wouldn’t choke. It was difficult to see through the fire and smoke. Luckily the car was one big-ass shiny target. I fired.
The arrow whizzed through the circle, catching more fire as it went.
I didn’t breathe again until it thudded into the car with a rattle. The fire spread slowly at first, catching the sprinkled gasoline. The seat burned next, smoke pouring thickly out of the open window. “Nice shot,” Nicholas murmured in my ear, lips brushing my hair.
The fire shot up, snapping whips of light and heat. The snow melted into water, shining on the pavement and trickling into the grass.
And then the car finally exploded.
The sound rattled the trees. Bits of burning metal shot out, slicing through a Hel-Blar’s arm, setting another one on fire. The smell of charred mushrooms made me gag. We clumped closer together, heat and smoke pressing against us.
Isabeau’s eyes snapped open but they were red, blind. Solange lost consciousness and her head lolled forward.
The fire snapped and kept burning with a constant hiss, throwing light over the snow all around us.
Just enough light to see that Constantine was gone.
Chapter 20
Solange
I was hiding behind a mound of hay along the wall, the contents of the tapestry pouch scattered on the ground when Isabeau found me. I was nauseated and disoriented, trying to remember why there was a gaping, bloody hole in my shoulder. Was I pinned to a tree in Violet Hill? Did I smell fire? And how was I suddenly in the castle’s outer wall, in the bailey, not Violet Hill anymore? Whatever Lucy and the others were doing, they’d have to do it fast.
Because here in the castle, someone was standing over me.
I was so surprised, I threw one of the boxes at Isabeau’s head.
She ducked. I pushed up to my knees, waiting for the star-stung sky to whirl back into its proper place. “Isabeau?”
“Oui!’ The blue fleur-de-lis tattoo on her neck seemed to glow, as did the chainmail pieces sewn into her leather tunic-dress. She frowned at me. “We have to go.” She looked around distastefully. “This place is unpleasant,” she added, even though the bailey was quiet and idyllic looking.
“I can’t go.”
“You must. Maintenant.” She sounded agitated, which was definitely not a good sign. Isabeau only ever sounded polite and French.
“I have to destroy her talisman first,” I explained, gathering the boxes. “I have to make sure she can’t ever do this to me again.”
“Your cord is weak.”
I blinked. “My what? Is that code for something?”
She gestured to my belly button, where I could just make out a faint glow if I squinted really hard. Not spending a lot of time looking at my navel, I’d never noticed it before. It was thin and frayed, like a braid fading to ragged gray here and there. It was stretched so thin I could barely see it in spots. In contrast, Isabeau’s cord was like frozen moonlight and silver. It looked strong enough to hoist a truck.
Kieran pulled a lighter out of one of his cargo pockets. “Standard issue, upper left pocket,” he said with a grin. “We have to get you into a school uniform.”
“Just as soon as I can paint vampire happy faces all over them.”
Nicholas was already sliding under the back of the car. Quinn and Magda were both laughing like undead hyenas. Vampire battles were so fast they made my brain hurt. I was panting and exhausted even though I’d barely moved. Kieran took off to grab the rope from the trunk. The car rattled and shuddered. There was the sound of metal grinding against metal and then the sharp cloying fumes of gasoline pouring out, and mixing with the smell of rot. Nicholas crawled back out covered in snow and engine grease. The gas tank was ripped open but it still sloshed impressively.
“Got it!” he called out. “Fall back.” Nicholas didn’t usually give his brothers orders and they didn’t usually listen. But this time Quinn and Connor both obeyed and even Magda fell back. Nicholas sacrificed a little of the gasoline, sloshing it over the car. The chemicals left in the engines would have to do the rest of the work. We took off at a dead run, crowding in a protective circle around the tree. Charlemagne leaped through the snow to land beside Isabeau.
“Go!” Magda ordered the rest of the dogs. “Home!”
They took off into the forest as Nicholas stuffed the rope into the tank to soak up the gasoline. “Let me go,” Solange shrieked. She kept screaming until she was hoarse.
Quinn grabbed the end of the rope and stretched it out into a circle around us. When he was well out of the way, Kieran lit one end. The fire sputtered, smoked, and finally traveled slowly from end to end. Smoke and fumes seared the air.
Connor grabbed the lighter from Kieran. “Hey!” Quinn shouted. Whoever dashed out through the flames to set the car on fire would be vulnerable. And they might not make it back through the circle if it finally burned the way we wanted it to.
“You may be prettier.” Connor grinned. “But I’m faster.”
“You’re both pretty and you’re both idiots,” I said. “Stay in the circle.” I dipped the end of my last arrow into the tiny bit of gasoline left in the tank and armed the crossbow. “I got this one.”
I lit the arrow, fire engulfing the steel tip. It would melt through the plastic of the bow and fry the mechanisms if I waited too long. I aimed carefully, holding my breath so I wouldn’t choke. It was difficult to see through the fire and smoke. Luckily the car was one big-ass shiny target. I fired.
The arrow whizzed through the circle, catching more fire as it went.
I didn’t breathe again until it thudded into the car with a rattle. The fire spread slowly at first, catching the sprinkled gasoline. The seat burned next, smoke pouring thickly out of the open window. “Nice shot,” Nicholas murmured in my ear, lips brushing my hair.
The fire shot up, snapping whips of light and heat. The snow melted into water, shining on the pavement and trickling into the grass.
And then the car finally exploded.
The sound rattled the trees. Bits of burning metal shot out, slicing through a Hel-Blar’s arm, setting another one on fire. The smell of charred mushrooms made me gag. We clumped closer together, heat and smoke pressing against us.
Isabeau’s eyes snapped open but they were red, blind. Solange lost consciousness and her head lolled forward.
The fire snapped and kept burning with a constant hiss, throwing light over the snow all around us.
Just enough light to see that Constantine was gone.
Chapter 20
Solange
I was hiding behind a mound of hay along the wall, the contents of the tapestry pouch scattered on the ground when Isabeau found me. I was nauseated and disoriented, trying to remember why there was a gaping, bloody hole in my shoulder. Was I pinned to a tree in Violet Hill? Did I smell fire? And how was I suddenly in the castle’s outer wall, in the bailey, not Violet Hill anymore? Whatever Lucy and the others were doing, they’d have to do it fast.
Because here in the castle, someone was standing over me.
I was so surprised, I threw one of the boxes at Isabeau’s head.
She ducked. I pushed up to my knees, waiting for the star-stung sky to whirl back into its proper place. “Isabeau?”
“Oui!’ The blue fleur-de-lis tattoo on her neck seemed to glow, as did the chainmail pieces sewn into her leather tunic-dress. She frowned at me. “We have to go.” She looked around distastefully. “This place is unpleasant,” she added, even though the bailey was quiet and idyllic looking.
“I can’t go.”
“You must. Maintenant.” She sounded agitated, which was definitely not a good sign. Isabeau only ever sounded polite and French.
“I have to destroy her talisman first,” I explained, gathering the boxes. “I have to make sure she can’t ever do this to me again.”
“Your cord is weak.”
I blinked. “My what? Is that code for something?”
She gestured to my belly button, where I could just make out a faint glow if I squinted really hard. Not spending a lot of time looking at my navel, I’d never noticed it before. It was thin and frayed, like a braid fading to ragged gray here and there. It was stretched so thin I could barely see it in spots. In contrast, Isabeau’s cord was like frozen moonlight and silver. It looked strong enough to hoist a truck.
