Drake Chronicles: 03 Out for Blood (3 page)

“I’m already behind,” she said. “They got us by surprise. And York smirked at me like he knew. I’m so going to get him for that. And for ragging on you al the time.” She cracked her knuckles. “And it starts now.”

“You were the one complaining that it was too early to study.”

“I changed my mind. I’m going to ace this year and then shove it up his nose.” Mr.

York, along with being the proverbial thorn in my side, was also one of the combat teachers. Chloe was quick and fierce on a computer but she wasn’t quite as good in hand-to-hand fights. He’d only barely passed her last year.

I left her to stew. I didn’t want to talk about York. It would make me grind my teeth. I didn’t know anything about being a floor monitor. My jaw clenched. If I was going to relax at al , I was going to need what was in the trunk under my bed. Watching TV

had helped settled my mood some, and so had Chloe’s stash of chocolate macaroons, but this required the big guns. No matter how much Chloe was going to make fun of me. I pul ed it out, hoping she was too buried in her work.

No such luck.

“Are those romance novels?”

I shot her a look through my hair, which was fal ing over my face. “Yes. And shut up.”

“I didn’t know you read romance novels.”

“Shut up.”

She turned on her wheeled desk chair. “You told me last year that you kept your stakes and stuff in there.”

I pul ed a book out, wondering if I should even bother trying to hide the cheesy cover. Chloe was a pitbul . “I also told my grandfather I kept my tampons in here.”

“I am total y digging this new side of you.”

Since she wasn’t making as much fun of me as I’d thought, I stopped scowling. “I know it’s sil y, but I like them. They don’t make me think too hard and there’s always a happy ending.”

“Lend me one.”

“Seriously?” I asked.

“Total y. That one with the cleavage and the guy with the mul et.” I snorted. “That’s al of them. The hair is rather unfortunate.”

“How about that one?”

“Can’t go wrong with a duke.” I tossed it to her.

“Are there naughty parts?”

“Not in that one.”

She tossed it back. I laughed and handed her a new one. It was five hundred pages of Victorian historical intrigue. She stared at it. “This is bigger than half the stuff on our lit class syl abus.”

“Probably better researched too.”

She put it next to her laptop and went back to the mysterious things she did on the Internet. I could check my e-mail and navigate some basic blog sites but that was about it. She could probably hack into government sites if we gave her enough time.

I read until she final y went to asleep and my cel phone vibrated. It was two in the morning. I flipped it open and read the text waiting for me from Kieran.

Get dressed and meet me outside.

Chapter 3

•

Quinn

Connor didn’t bother knocking, just opened the door and stuck his head into my room. He was pale, and not because he spent most of his time at his computer.

Vampires didn’t tan wel and the Drakes were no exception. “Quinn, it’s time.” I wiped blood off my lower lip and tossed the glass bottle in the blue recycling box sitting under a poster of Megan Fox. Connor and I were both turned three years ago on our sixteenth birthday. As twins, we shared the same blue eyes and dark brown hair and the same uncanny ability to know what the other was thinking. We’d also shared the sickness, the struggle to survive, and the searing bloodlust when we woke that first day as vampires.

Now we shared the same bloodlust every time the sun set, but it was starting to get a little better, just as Dad had promised it would. He didn’t lock my bedroom door from the outside anymore.

“Better hurry, Dad’s got that look on his face,” Connor warned me as we ran down the stairs from the top floor of the house that we shared with our five brothers. Our sister, Solange, had a room on the second floor, which was most definitely locked

—from the inside and outside—when she went to bed every single morning. She’d only turned a couple of weeks ago and our delicate, serene baby sister turned feral at the last ray of sunlight. Her best friend, Lucy, was staying in one of the guest rooms, as far away from Solange’s bedroom as physical y possible. We made her promise to engage the dead bolt, and Mom set two of the farm dogs to guard her every night at dusk. Just in case.

She shouldn’t have been living in our house at al while Solange was so volatile. It was dangerous and, frankly, stupid. Al of us could smel the sweet hot rush of the blood in her veins. It was like living inside a bakery, constantly surrounded by tempting pastries and cakes with chocolate frosting. Nicholas had a wil of iron. I don’t know how he did it, resisting the tender flesh on her neck every time she hugged him or he smel ed her hair. My fangs poked out of my gums just a little whenever she was nearby.

I was not good at resisting girls.

Stil , Lucy had practical y grown up here, and since she was dating my brother she was thoroughly off-limits. And she was stuck with us for at least another week since her parents were out of town, even though vampire politics, which were messy at best, had just exploded al over us.

“Mom deserves a little pomp and circumstance, don’t you think?” I asked, keeping my voice low as we passed Aunt Hyacinth’s room. I wondered if she’d final y venture out of the house for the coronation. “I mean, it’s not every day a vampire queen gets crowned.”

“You know Mom prefers it low-key. And anyway, I like to think we’re too smart to attempt a
third
elaborate ceremony.”

Connor was right. Mom was pronounced queen after kil ing the last self-proclaimed queen Lady Natasha—to stop her from kil ing Solange over an ancient prophecy that foretold Solange’s birth and her own rise to the throne. Now everyone was trying to kil both Mom
and
Solange. Not exactly an improvement. No one holds a grudge like a centuries-old vampire. You’d think they’d learn to lighten up eventual y.

“Hel of a lot of fuss over a thankless job,” I said. “Control ing vampire tribes is like herding cats. Into a bathtub. Blindfolded.” I tossed my hair off my shoulder and winked at Solange, who was sitting on the bottom step, looking miserable. “Maybe we just need a king. Someone charming and handsome like me.” She flashed me a grin. “Your head’s too fat for a crown.” Connor snorted and continued down the hal into the living room. I sat next to Solange. “What’s up? Sitting alone in the dark is too gothic for you. Leave that sort of thing to Logan.”

“I just hate this whole stupid thing,” she muttered. “If one more person tries to kil someone I love over that damn prophecy, I swear I’l go postal.” I put an arm over her tense shoulders. “It’l be fine. Montmartre’s dead. And you know we’l protect you.”

She speared me with a glare that could have fried the hair off my head. “That right there, Quinn Drake, is exactly what I mean. Protect yourself, not me.” I rol ed my eyes. “Hel o? Big brother. Occupational hazard.”

“Wel , get over it,” she grumbled. “I seriously can’t take much more. I won’t have your blood on my hands. It’s bad enough Aunt Hyacinth nearly died.”

“But she didn’t die. Drakes are harder to kil than that.” She’d been seriously burned by Helios-Ra holy water, though. It ate away at her face like acid and now she refused to lift the heavy black veils she wore hanging from her little Victorian hats. “Why aren’t you in there with everyone else?” She shrugged. “No reason.”

“Liar.”

She shrugged again.

I frowned. “Spil it, Solange.”

“I’m fine, Quinn.” She sent me an ironic grin. “I can protect
you
too, you know.

Annoying, isn’t it?”

“Very.”

She hugged me briefly. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I’m just worried.” I noticed the dark smudges under her eyes. Her fangs were out and her gums looked a little raw, as if she’d been clenching her jaw. “And you’re hungry,” I said quietly.

She looked away. “I’m okay.”

“Solange, are you drinking enough? You’re looking kinda skinny.”

“I’m drinking plenty. I just woke up and I’m …” She swal owed, fists clenching.

“How do you get used to it? It’s like this itch crawling inside me and there’s no way to scratch it. You guys made this look easy. I think it’s worse than the bloodchange.

At least I was unconscious through most of that. But now the lights hurt, everyone sounds like they’re yel ing. And Lucy.” She looked like she might cry.

“What about her?”

“Lucy smel s like food.” She nearly gagged saying it.

I kept my smile light and didn’t let her see anything but her reckless big brother who loved a good fight and a pretty girl and not necessarily in that order.

“Sol, al that’s normal. Lucy smel ed good before I turned and now she smel s even better. But I haven’t tried to eat her face and neither wil you.”

“She’s not safe in this house.”

“Safer than out there,” I argued, even though I agreed with her. “Look, you used to eat hamburgers.”

She blinked, confused. “So?”

“So, did you ever walk through one of the farms at a field party and suddenly try to eat a cow?”

“Um, no.” Her chuckle was watery but it was better than nothing. “And, ew.”

“Exactly. You can crave blood and not eat your best friend.”

“You make it sound so normal. And I’m total y tel ing Lucy you compared her to a cow.” She jerked a hand through her hair. “Between Lucy and Kieran I feel …

dangerous.”

I shrugged, trying not to scowl at the thought of Kieran and my little sister. “You should talk to Nicholas. He’s looking as squigee as you are.”

“Squigee? I’m squigee?” She poked me. “I don’t know what that is but I am prepared to feel insulted.”

“Nah, no need to be insulted. You got the Drake cheekbones like me. Saves you every time.”

“Okay, no more whining,” she announced decisively, faking a bright smile. “I’m getting on my own nerves. Let’s go make Mom a queen.”

“Yeah, because her self-esteem’s so fragile otherwise,” I said drily as we pushed to our feet. “She needs the boost of a crown.”

“I heard that, Quinn Drake.”

I winced. Vampire mothers had unfair advantages. “Love you, Mom!” She stalked out of the living room trailing the rest of the family like the train of a dress. Her hair was in a severe braid as usual, her mouth stern. But her eyes were bright. “That’s how you used to try to get out of trouble when you were little.” I grinned. “Does it stil work?” She sighed, giving in to a smile. I winked at Solange.

“See? Don’t underestimate the cheekbones.”

“Let’s go.” Bruno, the head of Drake security, opened the front door. The porch light made his neck tattoos look faded. He had so many weapons stashed under his coat it was a wonder he could move at al .

Dad stood very close to Mom, eyeing each of us. “We’re going the long way. The rest of you go east and circle around to meet us there. Protect your sister.” Solange went red. Lucy squeezed her hand sympathetical y. Solange swal owed hard and shifted a step away. Lucy frowned, looking confused and hurt. The door shut behind our parents, Uncle Geoffrey, and Bruno.

“Where’s Aunt Hyacinth?” I asked.

“She’s not in her rooms,” Lucy said. “I knocked. I wanted to borrow one of her lace shawls.”

“She wil be there,” Isabeau murmured in her heavy French accent. She was a Hounds princess and the reason Logan looked extra fancy in a new velvet frock coat. He couldn’t stop looking at her, as if he was afraid she might drift away.

There were scars on her arms and she had her dog with her as usual. He was a huge Irish wolfhound, the top of his shaggy head reaching nearly to her waist.

“Everyone ready?” Sebastian asked calmly. He was the eldest and usual y traveled with our parents. It was a mark of how worried they were that he was with us instead. We got into formation, circling Solange and Lucy, guiding them outside and across the driveway to the fields leading to the woods.

“I feel like I’m in the witness protection program,” Lucy whispered. “You guys need suits and dark glasses.”

“I’m not wearing a suit even for you, sweetheart,” I whispered back.

“You’re no fun.”

As the silence stretched uncomfortably, she started to hum the theme song to
Mission
:
Impossible
under her breath.

Solange smothered a startled laugh. “Are you nuts?”

“Your brothers need to meditate. They’re al stressed out and their chi is bunching up. That can’t be comfortable.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” Nicholas hissed at her. “But there’s this whole stealth thing we’re going for. You’re not helping.” Lucy grinned at Solange. “He’s so cute when he tries to be al Alpha male.”

“This is serious, Lucy.”

She reached and pul ed a piece of his hair. “I know that. But we’re barely off the driveway.”

“If you don’t stop talking I wil hide al of your chocolate,” Nicholas promised. Lucy stuck her tongue out but she stopped chattering.

The forest was heavy with the sounds of scurrying animals and insects boring through trees and the ever-present wind slinking through the pine boughs. We crossed the narrow river, using a fal en oak trunk covered in moss. Everyone but Lucy moved so fast that we seemed to blur a little around the edges. She was panting for breath by the time we stopped in a meadow. “I’m going to need to take up jogging or something,” she gasped. “For that alone, I hate you.” We let her rest for a few minutes and then continued toward the meeting spot. We didn’t expect trouble since the ceremony had only been announced to a very few select individuals soon after sunset. No advance warning made it harder for our enemies to find us and disrupt the ceremony. Isabeau found the guiding mark in a tree and pointed to her left. We fol owed her into another meadow, ringed with pine trees. The crickets stopped singing.

We were the first ones to arrive. It took another half hour before the other council members showed up with their attendants. The Raktapa Council was secretive to the extreme and they didn’t travel light, not even to a clandestine coronation. There were family banners and bodyguards and a lot of suspicious regal glares. The Amrita family favored caftans and saris. The Joiik were descendants of some ancient Viking vampire and were blond, pale as sunlight on armor. And we often looked like we belonged in some bizarre medieval-Victorian costume party. Of al of us there that night, only my brothers and Solange and I wore clothes from this century. Except for Logan, of course. He wore his usual eighteenth-century frock coat. And Lucy just looked like a confused time traveler, as always. Or like a little girl who’d just gone through her mother’s dress-up trunk.