This one’s for my very creative readers and their
mini-movies, collages, role-playing games, and poems!
Thank you.
Contents
Map
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
The Drake Family Tree
About the Author
Also by Alyxandra Harvey
Prologue
Connor
“The fact that we have to fetch our baby sister home because she’s out later than we are is just sad,” Quinn grumbled.
“Gives me a chance to check out these dishes though,” I said from halfway up an old-growth cedar. The trunk, mossy and glittering with gold-dust lichen, was big enough to support half a dozen tree houses. I was perched comfortably on one of its many massive branches, repositioning the angle of a hidden satellite dish. “What’s it say now?”
Quinn refreshed the screen on my laptop from down among the roots. They were like an old woman’s gnarled fingers from this perspective. “Looks good,” he called up.
I tweaked it anyway and double-checked it on my iPhone link before climbing down the branches as if they were steps. “That was the last one for this section,” I said, taking the last six feet in one leap. “I’ll have to disable the other ones. They might be in range of the camp.” I’d have to patrol nightly as well to block any new signals, even if the encampment was right up against the mountain and it was highly unlikely.
I knew that for a fact.
I’d already tried.
A lot.
The Blood Moon was a rare vampire gathering, and no Internet or cell phones were permitted for security’s sake. I wasn’t looking forward to that part. I mean, I don’t care about the diehards who run around in corsets or fifteenth-century plate armor to represent their lineages, but the lack of Internet access is just barbaric.
“I have a phone full of hot girls’ phone numbers, Connor,” Quinn remarked as I stashed my equipment in the pack on my motorcycle. “Before I delete them you should totally put the identical twin thing to good use.”
I rolled my eyes. “Twin or not, no one’s going to believe I’m you.”
“Well, not if you show up in a Star Trek T-shirt.”
Okay, yes, I have watched every episode of every Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, and Stargate ever created, but I have never owned a Star Trek T-shirt.
Just saying.
“Forget it.”
“What about Hunter’s friend Chloe? You guys got your geek on until the late hours of the night a few weeks ago.” We’d been helping Chloe and Quinn’s girlfriend, Hunter, figure out what was making students sick at the Helios-Ra Academy.
I shrugged one shoulder. “We still e-mail, but it’s not like that.”
He shook his head sadly. “Who will carry on my fine legacy?”
“You’ve got a girlfriend, not a terminal disease.”
“Still, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: with great hotness comes great responsibility.”
Though Quinn wears his hair longer, we technically have the same face. But that’s not why he’s so popular with girls young and old—it’s something more indefinable. And he’s always been like that. He’s the one who likes girls, and I’m the one who likes comic books. Still, we get each other. We always have. I might have six brothers but I only have one twin.
I grinned at him. “Try Duncan.”
“Yeah, right.”
I might prefer computers to people, but Duncan was downright antisocial. Mind you, that doesn’t seem to stop the girls from following him around, either. Quinn likes that sort of thing, but it makes Duncan mental. Which is part of the fun.
“Guard, three o’clock,” I said with a sigh.
Quinn made a face and kicked his motorcycle into gear. We grinned at each other and took off.
The motorcycles growled as we sped around thick old trees and through giant ferns. We pulled into a narrow meadow, which was really more of a strip of wild grass and late-blooming goldenrod, and left our bikes in a row with the others. Between the oak trees was a path leading to numerous tents and vampires everywhere, talking, watching, unrolling family banners, and polishing swords. No cell phone signals—but swords were okay. I grumbled to myself.
There were more guards than I even knew existed, wearing various family insignias and stationed by every tent. The Drake crest currently outnumbered the others, but vampires were arriving nightly from all over the world. There was another secret guard, the Chandramaa, rumored to be roaming around, but no one had actually seen them. Chandramaa was a Sanskrit word for “moon,” and they were as old as the language itself.
Aware that we were probably being watched, we warily followed the path out of the woods, into the open field. It went against everything our mother had ever taught us. Luckily Solange was easy to find, loitering on the outskirts with a guy, well out of the torchlight. His back was to us, and he didn’t look familiar. It wasn’t Kieran—humans were allowed only when attached to a vampire family, and vampire hunters weren’t allowed at all. He was tall, with black hair, and he was standing entirely too close to her.
Quinn scowled. “Who the hell is that?”
I scowled too. “No idea.”
“Sol,” he called out to her. “Let’s go.”
She looked up at us, red-veined eyes narrowing warningly. “In a minute.” She clearly wanted us to stay where we were and butt out of her business.
Quinn and I exchanged a glance.
Not a chance.
We were crossing the field when it happened.
A vampire stepped out from between two sheltering dogwood trees. She looked Hel-Blar, except that her skin was a very light blue, not the usual mottled bruise color. Her smell was more like wet earth in spring than mushrooms, but it was close. Too close. She held a bow, nocked with an arrow.
“Solange, down!” I yelled, even as the vampire she was talking to knocked her back, covering her with his body. Quinn rushed at them. I grabbed a stake to try to throw the arrow off its trajectory.
There were assassins somewhere on the planet not currently gunning for my mother or my baby sister, but they were probably very lonely.
The arrow thunked into a tree. The paper wrapped around the shaft unraveled, fluttering like moth wings.
It wasn’t meant for Solange, after all.
It didn’t matter.
The woman was dust and ash, with only a thin dress and a yew-wood bow left lying in the grass to show she’d ever existed. Even the odd smell of rich soil was gone, taken by the cold mountain wind. A crossbow bolt, painted the red of all Chandramaa weapons, had pierced her heart even as her messenger’s arrow bit through tree bark. She never had a chance.
There was a moment of silence, followed by the eerie sound of vampires moving too fast, like bat wings. Fangs and swords and even a katana flashed. Solange was pulled to her feet by the black-haired stranger. His hand passed over her shoulder with a familiarity I didn’t like. There was a crowd gathering between us.
“Hey now,” Quinn said darkly, tilting his
head to see around a guard built like a bull on steroids. “What’s that about?”
A woman wearing the royal crest snatched the paper off the arrow, skimming the message. “It’s for Helena.”
Quinn and I both froze, then turned slowly to look at her. Solange did the same across the way.
“A tribe wants a seat at the Blood Moon council. It’s signed by Saga.”
“Who the hell’s Saga?” Quinn demanded.
There were a lot of shrugs and curious stares.
“Mom doesn’t choose who sits on the council,” I added. “We didn’t even call the Blood Moon.” No one knew who called them; they just happened every hundred years or so. I held out my hand. “Give me the message. We’ll get it to her.”
I tucked it into the inside pocket of my coat, next to an ebony stake I’d found in a family chest in the attic. The crowd dispersed, muttering and shooting us dark looks. A few hovered, hoping for more drama. Don’t let the emo brooding vampires fool you; most vampires love gossip and melodrama as much as blood. The older they are, they more they seem to crave it. Which only partly explained why my life seemed to resemble a soap opera lately, and not even the sci-fi space opera type, which might have been cool.
The black-haired stranger murmured something in Solange’s ear before walking away. We still hadn’t glimpsed his face, but we knew he was a vampire. He’d moved to block Solange faster than any human could have.
“Who was that, Solange?” Quinn asked as she approached us. For all his wild oats, Quinn has a puritanical streak when it comes to our sister. We all do.
“His name’s Constantine.”
“And?”
“And nothing.”
“What about Kieran?” I demanded.
She rolled her eyes. “I was talking to the guy, not pole dancing for him.”
We both winced. I actually put a hand over my eyes in self-defense. “Don’t ever say that again.”
She just laughed. “Let’s go.”
She had her own bike waiting on the other side of the trees. It took us just over half an hour to get back to the farmhouse and Mom was already on the porch when we got there, fangs out. Dad was on the bench drinking brandy. He drank brandy only when he was trying not to fly into a fit. Mom never bothered to stop herself. They reached us before we’d even gotten off our bikes, the dogs circling, tails wagging.
“We got a call. Someone shot at you?” Mom had Solange by the shoulders, looking her over.
Solange squirmed. “Mom, I’m fine.”
“It was a message arrow,” I added quickly, taking the paper out of my pocket and handing it to Mom. “It was never meant for Solange.”
“Oh,” Mom said.
“Mom?” Solange said.
“Yes, honey?”
“Ouch.”
Mom let her go. “Sorry.” She half smiled. “We were worried.”
Dad ran a hand over Solange’s hair, also smiling. “It’s encouraging to know you can go a whole night without getting shot at.”
She snorted. “Makes for a nice change. You know what else would be nice?”
“What?”
“Since I already have, like, three guards tailing me all the time, not also having my brothers hovering everywhere I go would be a treat.”
Quinn and I gave identical snorts.
“No deal,” Dad added mildly. “Let’s get inside.”
We went to the kitchen, where Uncle Geoffrey and Marcus were helping Bruno unpack a new shipment of blood. The blood was stored in various refrigerators and some of it was transferred to plastic water bottles before being redistributed. The coppery smell permeated the house. My fangs poked out of my gums a little. It was like being inside a bakery while they baked every kind of cake imaginable.
Mom and Dad sat at the table and unfolded the note. Mom frowned. “Who the hell’s Saga?” she demanded.
Uncle Geoffrey glanced at Solange. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine.” She smiled without showing her extra fangs. Her irises were rimmed with red and fanned with veins like rays of sunlight.
“You look a little pale.” He tossed her a bottle of blood. “Drink up.”
She took the bottle with a sigh.
He just raised his eyebrows. “I told you, you need more blood than the others did.”
“I know,” she grumbled. She unscrewed the cap and lifted the bottle to her mouth. She paused, then recoiled sharply. Before she could take a sip, Mom, who was closest, leaped over a chair and knocked the bottle out of Solange’s hand. Solange blinked, her chair sliding across the wooden floor. The blood arced over the walls. It smelled wrong—too sharp, too acidic.
Mom’s mouth was grim, her nostrils flaring.
“Poison.”
Chapter 1
Lucy
I never would have thought I could have so much fun in a sweaty gym, running combat drills until I wanted to throw up.
In a Helios-Ra school, no less.
I mean, these were the guys who had previously devoted themselves to taking out my best friend and her entire family. Plus, they kind of acted like they thought they were superheroes. Not that I wouldn’t love my own theme song and cape.
Still. It was a matter of principle. Drake family good. Vampire hunters bad.
Except that right now a vampire hunter from Helios-Ra Academy was not only dating my best friend’s brother, she was also teaching me how to take out vampires. Not the Drakes, of course—but the Hel-Blar, who attacked anything human or vampire, and the other vampires who either wanted the royal throne for themselves or just didn’t want Helena Drake to have it. Whatever. They were going down. Preferably on the end of my very pointy, steel-tipped staff.
Hunter’s boot nearly clipped my jaw. I stumbled back out of reach, impressed. “Dude. You’re bendy.” Which didn’t seem entirely fair since I was the one who did yoga. Mom and I had a new compromise: for every nonorganic, non-fair-trade, non-dark-cocoa chocolate bar I ate, I had to do a round of sun salutations.
After the kind of summer I’d had, I was doing a lot of sun salutations.
Hunter attacked again, moving slower so I could see what she was doing and choose a counterattack. Then she repeated it and sped it up. I blocked her blow, the force reverberating through my bones and practically into my teeth. I followed the momentum, pushing against her arm. She didn’t drop her stake, but I knew she would have if she were a normal girl and not the valedictorian of Vampire Hunter High. She hated it when I called it that. She said it made them sound like a bad B movie.
Duh.
“That’s good,” Hunter said, panting. “Keep grinning at your attacker like that and they’ll think you’re way creepy. And mental.”
I grinned wider. “I totally love this. Who can I punch next?”
She stopped and laughed. Her long blond hair was tied back, and I was gratified to see the collar of her shirt was damp with sweat too. I didn’t want to be an easy mark. Ever. “About that. I know you like punching people in the nose, but it’s much more effective if you aim for the throat or the eyeballs. Even vampires can’t see where you are if they have no eyeballs.”
“Cool. And gross.”
“And you should get contact lenses.”
I blinked behind my dark-rimmed glasses. “Why? I hate sticking my fingers in my eyes.”
Hunter didn’t say anything. She just reached out and gripped my elbow, spinning me around with one jerk so that my back was facing her. Then she used her other hand and quickly, casually flicked my glasses right off my face. They slid across the shiny wooden floor. Everything went blurry.
“Show off,” I grumbled. Then I had to crouch down and feel around for my glasses, which was totally embarrassing. “All right,” I said, shoving them back onto my nose. The walls of mirrors reflected three of me, all looking disgruntled. Then I leaned on my staff and I suddenly looked like I belonged in a fantasy novel. I wished Solange would answer her damn phone so I could tell her about it. “You proved your point. In
fact, I’m going to get laser eye surgery as soon as possible.”
“That’s usually what we do too,” Hunter admitted. “It’s just safer.” She tossed me a towel and we wiped our faces. I hurt all over and my lungs burned. And I still loved it. Next thing you knew, I’d be lifting weights and drinking protein shakes. And I’d know the difference between my quads and my glutes.
Clearly, growing up with vampires had caused irreparable psychological damage.
The campus stretched out around us, visible through the one wall of windows. There was a pond, lots of grass, and several Victorian-style houses and barns doubling as dormitories, teacher lodgings, and training areas, all grouped under the watchful eye of the Violet Hill mountains. According to Kieran, Solange’s boyfriend, the garages are full of motorcycles. I wondered if I could get someone to teach me how to ride one. Then I wouldn’t have to rely on Nicholas to take me to all the good vampire hideouts and the royal courts.
If I was ever allowed back in, of course.
They all seem to think I’m way delicate. I really don’t know where they get that from. When my parents came back from their annual visit to the ashram with my cousin Christabel in tow, Solange and Nicholas’s parents had felt the need to tell them everything.
Even though that was obviously the worst idea ever.
Dad took one look at the little scar on the back of my neck from when Solange and I were attacked by Hel-Blar vampires and he freaked right out. He now has an ulcer, which, apparently, is all my fault. But really it’s Helena and Liam’s fault for telling him in the first place. I never would have done anything that dumb.
Add in my mother’s bonding with me over Nicholas being my first “official” boyfriend (no one counts Julian, not even Mom, because he was a jerk) and her chasing me around the house with safe-sex pamphlets and dress designs for the prom. It’s October. Prom’s not until May. And, really, how do you take a young vampire to the prom? Nicholas won’t even sit in the same car with me because the smell of warm human blood is still too tempting. He just turned a little over a year ago, and it takes time to get all those appetites under control. I think of it like a case of perpetual PMS, where you just feel inside your bones that if you don’t get a hot fudge sundae right away, you might actually kill someone.
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