Languish
Page 8
“Antonia, call me. I think it’s starting.”
DON’T MISS AN EXCITING EXCERPT FROM THE NEWEST ADDITION TO THE
Drake Chronicles— Blood Moon …
Lucy
Saturday night
“You tried to eat your boyfriend’s face?”
Okay, so it wasn’t the most sympathetic response I could have come up with, but I couldn’t help it. I was punchy from fatigue and had what felt like an adrenaline hangover. And not only was I covered in ashes and bruises from fighting feral Hel-Blar vampires and blowing up a ghost town, but I was sure there was some kind of mistake.
Solange didn’t do stuff like this.
Well, usually.
She looked so wispy and pale she was practically translucent, except for the blue veins that traced her collarbone. Her fangs were out, all three sets. She held up a hand when I stepped closer. The light glinted off the personalized royal medallion around her neck. “Stay downwind,” she said tightly.
I frowned. “Are you telling me I stink?”
She nodded once, pained. “Blood.”
“Oh.” I’d been fighting Hel-Blar all night so she was probably right. Only clearly she didn’t mind the smell.
She frowned. “And gunpowder? Why do—” Solange shook her head. “Never mind, you have to help Kieran. Now.”
“That’s really his blood?” When she looked at me as if she was about to burst into tears, I swore. “Shit. Where is he? What happened?” She pointed to the line of pine trees behind the oak, the tall grass shivering around the exposed roots. I thought I saw a black combat boot. I broke into a run. “Kieran!”
He moaned, propped up against a tree, blood running down his neck and arm. There was a bite mark just above his collar, the flesh ragged. Under all the red, he was the color of boiled mushrooms.
“Kieran, can you hear me?”
He swallowed, trying to speak. The movement made the blood run faster, soaking his shirt. “Solange,” he croaked. “Help Sol—”
“She’s fine,” I assured him. I took the bandanna I knew was in his cargo pants pocket above his knee. It was standard issue for a Helios-Ra agent. I wadded it up and pressed it over his wound, trying not to feel nauseated. “Can you press here?” I asked him. “As hard as you can.” I glanced over my shoulder. “What the hell happened to you two?” I slipped my arm under Kieran’s shoulder on his good side and tried to lift him. He weighed a ton.
“Don’t just stand there!” I shouted at Solange. “Help me!”
She stayed where she was.
“Solange!”
“I don’t know if I can!” she shouted back frantically.
“Then call 911. What’s the matter with you? He needs an ambulance.”
“You know they can’t come here,” Solange said.
“Can’t tell anyone,” Kieran agreed, moaning. “They’d hunt her.”
While I certainly wasn’t going to let anyone hunt my best friend—even if she had turned my own boyfriend against me just last week—I wasn’t going to let her boyfriend bleed to death in the woods either.
“We’ll take you to the school infirmary, then.” I grunted, trying to haul him to his feet. He stumbled, sliding up the trunk. He was clammy and shivering. “We can tell them it was a random attack. But we need to get you there now. You need stitches.” I tried not to think about Solange’s teeth as the weapon that had gouged him. At least she hadn’t gone for the jugular. Small comfort. Blood was sticky on my hands. “Solange, I can’t get him to the van by myself. I’m not the one with vampire strength.”
“I can still taste his blood, Lucy.” Her hands were clenched so tight the knuckles looked as if they were outside her delicate skin. “I can smell it everywhere. It’s in the grass, in the air, on me. I’m not safe.”
I swore again, viciously enough to have made the proverbial sailor proud. I fumbled for the nose plugs around Kieran’s neck and tossed them at her, grateful that Kieran was still a vampire hunter to his core, even if he was dating a vampire princess. “Put these on.”
I was a student at the Helios-Ra Academy now too but I wasn’t in regulation uniform, just my usual embroidered peasant blouse and crystal beads. I hadn’t even started classes yet; I’d been too busy killing monsters.
Solange clipped them on her nose, closing her nostrils tight against the violent scents drenching the woods. Even I could smell the coppery tang of blood, but it was making me queasy, not hungry. The nose plugs gave her a momentary reprieve, and she was at Kieran’s side so fast the wildflowers flattened around her. She looked awful, but she took Kieran’s weight, and we dragged him to the van. I opened the side door, and we slid him half onto a seat, his feet still dangling out of the open door. I was panting and sweating from the exertion. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept. But I didn’t have time to stop, not yet.
Not even for my best friend, who was suddenly licking her lips, her teeth faintly pink, smeared with Kieran’s blood, her eyes red veined and fierce. I heard the dry rasp of bat wings, felt the shadows of them moving toward us even if I couldn’t see them clearly in the dark.
We were in so much trouble I nearly gave up right then and there.
“Solange!” I tried to snap her out of the bloodlust. “Remember who you are!”
“I think I finally am.” She was practically purring.
I’d known she was in a bad way when Nicholas and I found her a few days ago, drunk on human blood, a willing donor passed out at her feet. And then she’d attacked me for making comments about the mysterious vampire Constantine, whom I’d never met but did not like. I especially didn’t like the way she said his name, as if he were hotter than Johnny Depp.
“Get in the van, Kieran,” I said, moving very slowly to stand in front of him while he struggled to lift his heavy feet all the way in. He pushed something at me, hiding it in the small of my back. It was too square to be either a knife or a stake.
Taser.
“No, don’t go,” Solange said, pulling off the nose clips and tossing them aside. “I’m still hungry.”
Apparently adrenaline, fear, panic, and guilt could only hold out for so long against bloodlust.
Solange was gone.
I wasn’t sure who was standing in front of me. She might have Solange’s ethereal beauty and her ballerina grace, but she wasn’t Solange.
Oblivious, Kieran leaned toward her, as if I weren’t in his way.
Vampire pheromones.
Without his nose plugs, he was vulnerable. I’d grown up with Solange and her brothers so I was mostly immune. Theoretically.
Because, lately, Solange was breaking all of our theories.
Kieran didn’t even notice the bats swarming above us. I ducked my head a little, trying not to scream like a child in a Halloween haunted house. “Crap,” I said darkly, shoving him down into his seat. “Solange, back off.”
“No.”
Kieran leaned farther forward, his blood dripping on the car mat and out into the grass. He tried to shove me aside so that Solange could finish her dinner. I shoved back without turning around, making sure to poke him hard in his wound. The flesh was warm and ragged and sticky under my finger. I decided I might just throw up later. It was worth it though, as Kieran recoiled, hissing through his teeth. The pain broke the lure of Solange’s pheromones, if only for a moment. I elbowed him savagely so that he fell back completely into the van, and then I slammed the door shut on him.
Solange only smiled. Her eyes were veined in red, like an autumn leaf. “I’m still thirsty,” she murmured.
I scowled, trying to remember the Solange I knew, covered in clay and only wanting to be left alone. “Too bad,” I said through my teeth, which weren’t nearly as impressive as hers. Her fangs gleamed when her smile widened. Bats flew in a whirlwind over her head. “Go away, Sol.”
“Mmm, I don’t think so.” She shrugged one shoulder. “You can run if you like. I’m going to start with Kieran first. You’d only taste like lemons
and ash. I can smell your anger.” She wrinkled her nose as if I were spoiled meat. “It doesn’t enhance you, not like the others.”
“Gee, I’m so sorry that the fact that I want to punch you right in your princess nose might ruin your palate. We’re not bottles of wine.”
She just shrugged again.
And then she was pressing me into the van, so close I could see the blue under her skin, hear the flap of bat wings and the crackle they left in the air. I couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t snap my neck just to get to Kieran, slowly bleeding himself into a coma behind me.
So I did the only thing I could think to do.
I Tasered my best friend.
I wasn’t sure if it was the jolts of electricity running through her or the proximity of the dawn, but she fell backward onto the grass. I didn’t even have time to make sure she was all right. Technically, she was already dead, so a little shock wouldn’t hurt her for long. Okay, 1500 volts, whatever. She’d survive, but Kieran needed help now.
I paused.
She’d survive being Tasered, but not the dawn.
I’d have to bring her with me.
“Shit,” I said. “This is just the worst night ever.”
I approached her carefully, nudging her with the toe of my boot. She lay still, pale and slight. “If you bite me, I’m biting you back,” I muttered, crouching down to lift her up. When she didn’t open her eyes and try to eat me, I felt marginally better. I dragged her awkwardly toward the van and stuffed her into the front seat. “If you wake up cranky, I’m so Tasering you again.” I ran around to the driver’s seat. “I’ve already blown up a town tonight, so don’t think I won’t.”
The bats, angered, dive-bombed me. I tucked my head into my collar and ran faster, hollering. The screaming didn’t scare the bats off but it made me feel better. I felt one catch in my hair, then bounce off my shoulder.
“I really hate everybody right now,” I said, diving into the front seat. I yanked the door handle just as another bat hit the glass. Solange was slumped next to me. I kept the Taser in my right hand, contorting to start the van with my left. Kieran shifted in the backseat. “Don’t die,” I told him sternly.
He tried to chuckle but it turned into a wet gurgle. I hit the gas pedal and peeled out of the field, kicking up clods of dirt and grass.
“Don’t wake up,” I chanted at Solange. “Don’t wake up.”
The bats followed us like a black, leathery cloud. Their eyes were red when they dipped down into the spear of the headlights.
“Don’t wake up,” I said again. “And don’t be such a stereotype. Bats. God.”
They were so thick now, it was hard to see. I prayed really hard that I wouldn’t drive us right into a tree. I craned my neck. The Taser was heavy, making my wrist ache. A bat hit the windshield, cracking it like a rock. Blood smeared the glass.
“I’m sorry!” I yelled. “Get out of my way, you stupid flying rodents.”
Another hit, and another. A crack snaked through the windshield. Fur and blood matted in the fissure. Bile burned the back of my throat.
Solange stirred.
I jabbed the Taser at her but she was faster. She dodged out of the way. The van wobbled precariously as I fought to keep hold of the steering wheel. Kieran was passed out in his own blood. Solange glanced back at him and licked her lips. It was a tiny moment of distraction and likely the last one I’d get. I stabbed the Taser at her again. It glanced off her shoulder, but it was enough to freeze her, her face contorting.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I repeated over and over as I slammed on the brakes. She flew into the dashboard. I reached over her while she was still stunned and opened the passenger door.
Then I shoved her out as hard as I could into the grass.
She sprawled, bats circling overhead like vultures. I sped away with the door still open, banging against tree branches. The smell of pine and cedar mixed with Kieran’s blood. I looked into the rearview mirror. Solange sat up slowly.
I hit the gas harder.
A Note on the Author
ALYXANDRA HARVEY is the author of The Drake Chronicles—Hearts at Stake, Blood Feud, Out for Blood, Bleeding Hearts, and Blood Moon—as well as two stand-alone novels, Haunting Violet and Stolen Away. She studied creative writing and literature at York University and has had her poetry published in magazines. Alyx likes medieval dresses and tattoos and has been accused of being born in the wrong century—except that she really likes running water, women’s rights, and ice cream. She lives in an old Victorian farmhouse in Ontario, Canada, with her husband, their dogs, and a few resident ghosts.
www.alyxandraharvey.com
www.thedrakechronicles.com
www.facebook.com/thedrakechronicles
Also by Alyxandra Harvey
The Drake Chronicles
Hearts at Stake
Blood Feud
Out for Blood
Bleeding Hearts
Blood Moon
Ruling Passion
(Bind-up of Hearts at Stake, Blood Feud, and Out for Blood)
• • •
Haunting Violet
Stolen Away
PRAISE FOR
HAUNTING VIOLET
“The requisite Victorian romance [is] here, complete with furtive meetings in the garden and love letters bound with elaborate ribbons.” —VOYA
“Harvey … delivers a fun adventure in the form of a Victorian mystery novel that captures the feel (and the flaws) of the age.” —Publishers Weekly
“Violet reminds me of a Jane Austen heroine, had Austen ever decided to write novels about the paranormal. Haunting Violet is a witty, suspenseful novel of the supernatural that I highly recommend.” —Curledup.com
“Fans of paranormal fiction with romantic overtones will enjoy this young adult novel with its quirky heroine, colorful sidekicks, and compelling story.” —City Book Review
“Witty, sly, and never disappointing…. Fun, funny, and a relief from Twilight wannabes.” —Booklist on Hearts at Stake
“An action-packed story full of intrigue, suspense, and romance with a great cast of characters.” —School Library Journal on Blood Feud
“Will keep readers entertained from start to finish…. Fast-paced and engaging.” —VOYA on Out for Blood
“Alyxandra Harvey is the consummate storyteller…. It’s a rare treat to be involved in a book that is new and can hold my rapt attention in this genre after 40 years of reading about vampires!” —A Bookish Libraria on Bleeding Hearts
Read the Drake Chronicles
from the beginning …
Ruling Passion—includes Hearts at Stake, Blood Feud, and Out for Blood
The passion continues with three original e-novellas featuring your favorite characters from the DRAKE CHRONICLES …
The battle for Violet Hill has begun … and the Drakes could lose one of their own. Forever.
Copyright © 2012 by Alexandra Harvey
First published in the United States of America in October 2012 by Walker Books for Young Readers, an imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing, Inc.
This electronic edition published in 2012
All rights reserved. You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce, or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to Permissions, Walker BFYR, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010
ISBN: 978-0-80273-530-0 (e-book)
www.bloomsburyteens.com