Settings

My Love Lies Bleeding

Page 48

   


“So, we’re on our own,” London said grimly.
“Aside from the guards. What’s that noise?” Nicholas frowned as we rushed down the hall. Boudicca barked loudly, scratching at Hope’s door. It took Logan only one kick to break down the door.
The sound was the whirling of helicopter blades.
And Hope was launching herself out of the window, toward the rope. The trees bent, leaves whipping into the room from the force of the wind. The sound of the engine shook the walls. A painting fell off the wall, glass breaking.
Three vampires and a large dog leaped at Hope and not one of them reached her in time.
She swung out of reach, her blond ponytail and strappy sandals incongruous against the helicopter as the armed agents pulled her inside. Arrows rained through the window once she was safely out of the way. An arrow thudded into the bed, three into the floor, another missed Logan’s ear only because London shoved him behind the dresser. I leaped toward Boudicca, grabbing for her collar. I tugged her behind the door, Nicholas pushing us both when we weren’t moving fast enough for his liking. He cursed the entire time.
“You lunatic, leave the damn dog.”
“Shut up, she’s a member of this family, too!”
“And she knows how to get out of the way.”
“In your family you drink blood. In mine we look after animals.” Boudicca was growling, straining against my grip, trying to get back to the window.
“If you two are done yelling at each other,” Logan said drily. “They’re gone.”
“But the rest are coming,” London said. “Ground crew,” she added when we just stared at her. “Do you really think they’ll let this opportunity pass them by? They know half the family’s scattered, looking for Solange or Hyacinth.”
“Well, shit.”
“Exactly.”
“I’ll go,” Logan declared.
“You can’t,” I said, chasing him down the stairs.
“I damn well can.” He nodded at Nicholas. “Get her in the safe room and lock her in.”
“Bite me, Logan,” I shot back hotly. “You can’t just go barging into the courts, you idiot. You’re a Drake, and every bounty hunter in the country is out for your blood.”
“So? We can’t just let the rest of them go in blind.”
“I know that. I’m suggesting you and London stay here and defend the farm.”
“And you?” Nicholas asked silkily, suspiciously. “What exactly do you think you’ll be doing?”
“Hope was so keen on having me join up with the Helios-Ra,” I said, crouching down to pick up Hope’s dented sun pendant. “So why don’t I?” CHAPTER 21
Solange
Sunday evening, later
“You look awful,” Kieran said.
I would have glared at him but it was taking all of my concentration just to drag one foot in front of the other.
“Stop saying that,” I muttered. I hoped I wasn’t slurring my words. Even my tongue was tired. Nighttime helped, my metabolism was already stronger when the sun was down. Come morning though, I just knew I’d pass right out. Passing out didn’t worry me so much; it was not knowing if I was going to wake up again.
It was nearly my birthday. No party, obviously; no silver-wrapped presents or cake for me— just blood pudding. Gag. I couldn’t help but remember my brothers’
desperate fights to survive their bloodchanges. They’d weakened so much so fast, it was almost like they were in a coma. It hadn’t lasted long, but it hit hard and heavy.
Only the elixir of Veronique’s blood would give me a fighting edge.
An elixir I no longer had.
I couldn’t think about it. It wouldn’t do me any good and, anyway, if I had to do it all over again, I would. I stumbled over a tree root, caught myself on an oak branch, and nearly put my own eye out. Kieran caught my elbow. I had to blink rapidly so there was only one of him, not two dancing blurrily with each other.
“You’re getting worse.”
“If you tell me I look awful again, I am so going to kick you in the shin.” I yawned, swayed slightly. “Tomorrow.”
“Just try not to fall asleep before you hit the ground. You’re harder to catch that way.” I knew he was trying to sound confident, but I could smell the worry on him. I could actually smell it, like burned almonds. Weird. I sniffed harder. He raised his eyebrows at me. “Are you smelling me?”
I smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, sorry.” I rubbed my nose. “You’re worried about me. It smells like almonds.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. Weird, right?” I sniffed again, frowned. “And I smell stagnant water or mud or something.”
“I smell like an old pond?”
I shook my head slowly while my exhausted synapses finally fired straight. My mother’s training flooded me, my brothers’ stories heard from the privacy of the stairs leading to the attic.
“Not you,” I said suddenly. “Hel-Blar.”
Kieran froze, but only briefly. “Out here? Now?”
I tried to make my feet move faster. He grabbed my hand and dragged me. Hel-Blar weren’t to be trifled with. Faintly blue, smelling of rot, with red-tinged eyes and an insatiable appetite for blood. Animal or human, willing or unwilling.
And quiet as bats.
Still, my hearing must be getting sharper even as I grew weaker, because I could hear them skulking between the trees, trailing us, surrounding us like a pack of rabid dogs.