Blood Prophecy (10 page)

Anything but a strange old woman.

Veronique crossed the field, quicker than anything he’d ever seen. Her hair streamed behind her under the white linen of her wimple. Her face was pale and perfect, even at a distance. And then she was suddenly standing right in front of them. Her teeth were too long and too sharp.

“Grandmother, why are you doing this?” Viola asked. “And what’s wrong with your teeth?”

“Don’t call me that,” Veronique snapped. “You are no bloodkin of mine. But your father has a soft heart and he loves you as though you were his own.”

“But . . . I am.”

“Christophe cannot father children.” Veronique smiled for the first time, but there was no humor in it. “For the same reason I move faster than you can imagine, for the same reason that I died over thirty years ago and yet still, here I stand.”

Viola began to wonder if age had addled her grandmother’s mind.

“Vampire.” Tristan didn’t wonder. He saw the teeth, the pale skin, and reacted as he would have reacted to any other monster. He swung his sword.

“Don’t be absurd, boy.” She sighed, breaking his hold with a single twist of her hand. His sword fell into the frost-tipped grass. He felt a primal ancient fear such as he’d never felt before. “Your mother tried to foist her bastard on my son,” Veronique said. “And still he will not kill her. Because of you.” Before Viola could blink, her grandmother had her by the throat. She forced Viola’s head back even as she drove Tristan to his knees with a careless blow to the temple. Viola screamed.

And then her father was suddenly there, just as pale in his fury as his mother.

“Maman,
you promised,” Christophe snapped, breaking her hold. Viola couldn’t say a word, though a thousand clammered to be spoken.

Veronique’s fangs were fully and viciously extended. Hunger lined her gray irises with red. She snapped her attention on Tristan, who was pushing to his feet, pressing his palm to the bloody gash on his head. Blood dripped onto his tunic. Christophe’s fangs lengthened as well and Viola squeaked.

“I promised I wouldn’t kill your wife’s bastard. I made no such promise about her lover.”

Viola went cold and brittle inside. She might not have been able to save her mother but she could save Tristan. She didn’t shift position, knew it would only betray her. She whipped her arm out, locking her elbow tight and catching Tristan in the throat with her fist. Already dizzy, he flew off hisfeet and tumbled down the ravine to the river.

Veronique turned hard gray eyes toward Viola.

Toward me.

It took me a moment to realize this wasn’t the Madame
Veronique of Viola’s long ago. I was back in my own body, back in the real world without castles and dragons anywhere.

I was Solange again.

But Madame Veronique was still trying to kill me.

Chapter 9

Christabel

Tuesday night

I hadn’t had a chance to read an entire novel in weeks.

Whatever the others might say about politics, civil war, and hunters, the real evil here was lack of reading time. If they all read more they might freak out less. And if I was going to live forever I was going to have to start a reading list.

Starting with
How to Survive Your Boyfriend’s Family.

Well, not boyfriend exactly. I’d only known him a few weeks. But we
were
dating . . . when we weren’t running for our lives.

Connor kept pace beside me, alert for sounds that I still couldn’t quite catalogue. After all, it’s not like I’d had much experience with the skittering of beetles under tree bark or an owl fluffing her wings
a hundred feet over my head. It was disconcerting but at least it didn’t give me splitting headaches anymore. And I kind of loved that I was only wearing a thin shirt and Aidan’s wampum belt under my army jacket but I wasn’t the least bit cold. I could run faster than any other creature in the forest, even in my heavy combat boots. And even when I had mixed feelings as to where I was running to.

Aidan was the one who’d turned me into a vampire. He’d saved my life by doing so, but he’d been the one to kidnap me and put me in danger in the first place. All because he thought I was Lucy and could give him leverage with the Drakes. The Drakes, who weren’t too bothered with leverage at the moment, since their daughter had just had the mother of all temper tantrums. The temper tantrums I was used to didn’t come with tiaras.

“Your family sure is high maintenance,” I muttered, nearly tripping over a root because the sound of mole digging underneath startled me.

“Didn’t used to be.” Connor flashed me a very brief, slightly sad smile. “Not like this.”

I was an idiot. He’d basically watched his little sister go darkside, as he put it, and it had sent the whole family into a tailspin. I stopped running. “I’m sorry,” I said softly, twining my fingers through his. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, squeezing my hand. “Sure.”

“Are all your brothers as bad a liar as you are?” I asked, stepping closer. I could see the widening of his pupils, and the pale blue fire of his irises. He’d told me my eyes would change too, would go
lighter until they looked like amber. I couldn’t imagine they’d be half as beautiful as his. He was gentle and self-deprecating and way tougher than people gave him credit for. And twin or not, he was even hotter than Quinn, in my humble opinion.

I kissed him hard but quick. Making out in the woods wouldn’t make him feel better the way finding a solution to his family’s dilemma would, but for now it was all I could offer.

“You’ll get through this,” I promised him, the same way he’d promised me I’d survive when I was fighting the bloodchange.

“I know.” The dangerous edge he usually kept so hidden, the one that sent all sort of delicious shivers over the backs of my knees, flashed through his usually kind expression. He crowded me back against a tree, moving so quickly it was like a backward dance too fast for human eyes to see. His kiss was considerably darker than mine had been. It made me catch my breath, even though I didn’t breathe anymore. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to that. If I thought about the emptiness in my chest where there should be a heartbeat, I got sweaty and panicky.

“We’re going to get Solange back,” he said, against my mouth. My fangs poked into my bottom lip. “Thanks to you.”

“We don’t know if Aidan will even help us,” I felt the need to point out. “And Saga’s not exactly predictable.”

“You’re our best hope.”

“If you call me Obi-Wan I’m going to kick you.”

He grinned. “Hot. Say Obi-Wan again.”

I laughed, shoving his shoulder. “Shut up.”

The only reason I was their best hope was the same reason I
wore Aidan’s wampum belt: he considered me his emissary. I wasn’t just a regular vampire, I was Na-Foir like him. The rest of the vampire world was only just finding out about us. Apparently they’d been hiding for centuries, because the intense blue rivers of our veins made us appear faintly blue all over. As in
Hel-Blar
blue. And I’d had enough experience with the
Hel-Blar
to understand the fear. Still, I wasn’t
Hel-Blar.
I wasn’t that sick gangrene-blue and I didn’t smell like an old swamp. According to Connor, I smelled like cinnamon. That wasn’t exactly enough to convince the others; they either stared at me or went to great lengths to avoid eye contact. Except for Sky, who was more interested in convincing me to let her read one of my poems; Uncle Geoffrey, who wanted to study me; and Lucy, who didn’t seem to notice the stuff other people got all worked up about.

“Where to now?” Connor asked, since I was the only one who knew the directions to their hideout.

Technically.

“Is that a cedar or a pine tree?” I asked, annoyed. “And what the hell does starboard mean?”

“I think it’s pirate for ‘right,’ ” Connor replied. He was taking a risk coming with me but he wouldn’t change his mind. Aidan and Saga knew him so it would probably be all right. We kept running between the trees while I tried to remember if that boulder on the right was the one I was looking for.

And to think right now, my mother probably assumed I was home reading a book. She still had no idea what I’d become. And I wasn’t going to tell her until she was out of rehab. And stable.

The fallen log beside us looked vaguely familiar.

So did the dagger that whistled through the air and slammed into the ground in front of us. Jewels glinted in the hilt. Connor leaped in front of me while I stumbled back.

Saga laughed and we both looked up to see her standing on the edge of a rock outcropping, half hidden by the top of an enormous cedar hedge. Her hands were on her hips and her red hair streamed down her back. She wore a vest over a white shirt, ripped jeans, and tall boots. “If it isn’t my favorite scalawags. Fancy a cup of grog?”

“Um, no thanks.” Grog was the most disgusting thing I’d ever drunk, including blood. And Connor’s uncle Geoffrey still had to hook me up for blood transfusions every dusk because I just couldn’t stand the idea of swallowing blood.

“Christabel,” Aidan said quietly, emerging from the green boughs. I hadn’t even noticed him there, watching us. Judging by Connor’s violent start, he hadn’t either. “What brings you here?” He glanced at Connor. “Has your sister quit playing queen and finally called council?”

“I need to ask you something,” I said. “If you can help us, you might get your council faster.”

“Come along then,” he said, vanishing back into the cedar. We followed him to a hidden wall of rock, looking up to the caves where Saga was standing.

“Come on, lass,” she grinned. “Climb up to the eagle’s nest.”

Climbing up wasn’t easy, despite the fact that I could move faster than ever before. I still clung to thick roots and crumbling rock, muttering lines from “The Highwayman” under my breath
for comfort. I didn’t even realize I was doing it until Connor came up beside me.

“Don’t worry,” he said. He scaled the rest of the outcropping and reached down to help me up. The treetops were far below us, like pointy green spears. I felt better with sturdy ground under my boots. Behind us, the cave opening led into a scattering of smaller caves. It smelled damp and cold, even with the candles burning in the dirt along the back. Saga sat on a pile of furs, drinking from a leather wineskin. Aidan crouched beside her, the bear claw around his neck swinging like a hypnotist’s pendulum.

“We need one of those copper collars,” I blurted out. So much for suave political negotiation.

“Liam sends children to parley?” Saga asked.

“Liam isn’t asking,” I said. “I am.” He didn’t even know we were here. None of the brothers had suggested telling him. Though apparently, Logan was sure Sebastian would mention it so no one had told him either.

Logan’s girlfriend Isabeau thought she might be able to undo some of the magic that Solange had unleashed by taking the crown from Helena. But we needed a collar to keep her powerless long enough to try. I didn’t really know Solange. What little I’d seen of her, I sincerely hoped she was ill, like the Drakes thought. But in the end it didn’t matter. I was doing this for Lucy and for Connor. But Aidan and Saga couldn’t know about any of it. No one could. Even I knew that if word of that kind of vulnerability got out, it would be disastrous.

“And why should we help you?”

I narrowed my eyes at them both. “I seem to recall saving you from a stake to the chest. Not to mention a horde of rabid
Hel-Blar
and angry Helios-Ra hunters.” And then we’d blown up the town, which Saga and Aidan had made their home base. No one was perfect.

“She has fire.” Saga approved, though her eyes were silvery and cold. “I’ll give you that.”

“If I could have just one collar, I could bring it to Solange,” I said. “We might convince her to hold the council.”

“You don’t care about the council,” Aidan pointed out. “So why do you really want the collar, Christabel?”

“Proof,” Connor interjected. We’d already decided on the proper misdirection when they started asking too many questions about Solange.

“Proof of what, boy?”

Connor’s jaw clenched. I knew he hated it when they called him ‘boy’ like that. “Proof that you still have information to share with my uncle. You said so yourself, your scientist was eaten. What if something happens to you too?”

“Are you threatening me?” Saga’s movements were silky with menace. She could have been on a ship’s deck, light on her feet and quicker than wind in a sail. Connor barely had a chance to react. By the time I’d blinked, he was flat on his back in the dirt with the tip of Saga’s dagger scraping his Adam’s apple.

I jumped forward but Aidan held me back with an arm around my waist. It stopped me so abruptly I heard something in my neck crack. I struggled briefly but I’d have had better luck snapping steel
cables in half with my bare hands when I was still human. “Stop it,” I yelled.

Connor swallowed, his blue eyes not leaving hers. “I only meant, what if one of your
Hel-Blar
gets loose? You don’t have the whistle to control them anymore. Anything could go wrong.”