Blood Feud Page 58

But his kind of life just didn’t have room for someone like me, no matter what Kala’s oracle bones had said. His family was civilized. I was proud to be a Hound, but there was no denying we were a different vampire breed: wild, primal, superstitious.

Not to mention disdained and feared by the other vampires.

And though Logan had passed his tests, had been initiated as a Hound, I couldn’t know yet if he truly understood what that meant.

Just like he couldn’t know that making Greyhaven pay had been the only thing to see me through my first days as a vampire.

How was I supposed to give that up, now that it was within my grasp?

“I have to stay,” I final y said tonelessly. “You should go though.

“Don’t be stupid. I’m not leaving without you,” he argued. “And if you don’t come with me, my parents—hel , my entire family

—could die. You know Montmartre and you know how to sneak into the court caves. I need you, Isabeau.”

“I can’t,” I said brokenly. “I have to kil Greyhaven. I have to.” He was asking too much from me.

“If you stay, you’l die. He’l kil you.”


“So, what—I’m supposed to let you commit suicide?”

“It has nothing to do with you, Logan.”

“Coward,” he raged at me, the charming young man vanishing. The predator in him, usual y disguised in lace and old-fashioned clothes, broke free.

Instead of being afraid, I leaned in closer to him subconsciously.

“I can’t,” I whispered again, jerking back.

“You have to,” he insisted hotly. “You’re a survivor. I saw what you lived through, so you can damn wel live through this too.

Survive Greyhaven, Isabeau. Please.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I get it. And it’s stupid. Now, I’m getting out of here and I hope you’l choose to fight instead of giving up.” His eyes flared with green fire. “The Isabeau I know wouldn’t give up. Not now. Not when her tribe is out there fighting.”

He was right.

Insufferable, but right.

“Your choice,” he said final y.



My choice was to stay and get my vengeance—and likely die.

Or fight and only possibly die.

Logan made it sound so simple.

“I’ve only known you three days,” I said. “And you’re asking me to choose you.”

He speared me with a glance. “I’m not asking you to feel for me the way I feel for you. I’m just asking you to choose you. Not Greyhaven.”

I wasn’t as strong as I’d thought. Because part of me real y wanted to stay. It was easier, tidier, and hurt less.


Greyhaven thought like that.

Not me.

But if I wasn’t the girl who brought down Greyhaven, who was I? I’d built my new life, my new identity, on that one single goal.

But this was a battle of a different sort, one I couldn’t win with a sword or a magic charm. Otherwise he’d keep winning, without even realizing it. I’d survived him once, but I’d carried him around and let him hurt me over and over again. And that part was on me.

And it was the only part of this whole mess, of the emotions and needs bubbling inside the cauldron of my chest, that I could control.

So I’d damn wel control it.

“Je viens,” I said tightly. When he looked at me blankly, I repeated myself in English. “I’m coming.” Something broke inside and there was pain and sorrow and then, surprisingly, lightness. Ironical y, it was as if I could breathe again.

Logan stepped close to me and slid his hand through my hair, cupping the back of my head, bone beads dangling against his fingers. He didn’t kiss me but he looked at me with such a fiery kind of joy that I felt scalded al over.

And naked.

“Let’s hurry,” he said huskily. “So I can kiss you for an hour or two.”

It was surprisingly good incentive.

“The window,” I said as he stepped back. “It sounds as if most of the Host are busy with Montmartre. We couldn’t ask for a better chance.”

We quietly dragged a chair to the door and very careful y tilted it so it was shoved tight between the handle and the floor.

We moved with studied caution since the guards would have hearing as good as ours. When no one raised the alarm we carried a table and set it under the window, then climbed up on top. I could just reach it. Logan nudged me out of the way and stuck his head outside, looking right then left.

“Clear,” he mouthed before hauling himself up and out. He stayed low in the grass, reaching down to pul me out. We lay side by side for a long moment, just listening. The night was innocuous, crickets and frogs and an owl somewhere in the forest. I looked up, noting the stars.

“We’re east of the courts,” I told him. “They’l have guards posted just inside the trees.”

“Can we outrun them?”


“We’re mounting a rescue without weapons,” he muttered.

“They stripped us bare.”

“I know.” I was very aware of the empty scabbard strapped to my back and the bare loops on my belt. They’d even taken the dagger hidden in my boot.

“Are you ready?”

I nodded, smiling grimly. I had enough pent-up frustration that taking on Host guards seemed like a calming pastime. Nearly as good as a bubble bath.

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