Blood Feud Page 61

“We find them, kil the bastards, rescue our parents,” Quinn explained.

“You can’t just run in there and hope Montmartre trips on his own stake,” Isabeau said. “He’s real y good at this sort of thing.

He’s been doing it for centuries and we … haven’t. And there’s only six of us, and most of us are newborn. Once the sun comes up, he can keep fighting. We can’t.”

“We only need to distract him,” Solange insisted. “Give Mom and Dad and the others a chance to fight back.”

“That’s something,” Isabeau agreed. “But it’s not enough.

We’ve got the dogs,” she said as we picked up speed. “I’l cal the Hounds with directions once we know where they are and they might be able to get to us in time.”

“We can’t wait,” Quinn argued.

“I know that. We can’t just barge in either,” she insisted. “But maybe we can use one of their own tricks against them. How’s your balance?”

We looked at her like she’d lost her mind.

“Our balance? We’re not joining the circus here.”

“Just listen. We send the dogs in and then we fol ow, but from up high. If we can move from tree to tree, we’l have an advantage and the element of surprise.”

advantage and the element of surprise.”

“I haven’t swung from a trapeze lately,” Quinn said dryly, but he was grinning. “But I’l damn wel learn fast. You’re sneaky and vicious, Isabeau,” he added. “I think I like you.”

“I think they’re heading to the clearing off the fens.” Connor frowned down at the GPS on his phone. “I’m sending the coordinates to everyone we know right now.”

“Send them to Magda too.” Isabeau rattled off her number.

Two soft short whistles had the dogs moving more silently, ears perked.

“Nearly there,” Connor said.

“Let’s climb,” she suggested. Quinn and Nicholas went wide, circling to the other side of the clearing. I could smel the Host and their victims now, the forest drenched in pheromones and bloodlust. Fangs extended al around. Isabeau’s hadn’t retracted since we’d been ambushed. She shimmied up an elm tree, startling a squirrel into a hole in the trunk. She moved lightly along a high branch, dropping down onto a nearby oak branch and hopping up to another elm.

We used a curtain of leaves to hide as we assessed the situation down below. An outer circle of Host guards in their brown leather patrol ed with crossbows. We had managed to avoid their notice so far. There were more just inside the clearing and a clump of them in the center where Montmartre stood, an arrow pointed at Mom’s chest. Dad was snarling, on his knees, a sword tip grazing his jugular. Blood dripped from a gash on his temple. Sebastian and Marcus stood very stil .

Montmartre was smiling pleasantly. Greyhaven waited behind him impatiently. I wished I had a crossbow of my own.

But that would have to wait.

“Merde,” Isabeau snapped. “You’re not the only Drake with a martyr complex.”

Solange strol ed into the meadow, muffled curses shivering in the treetops as Nicholas, Quinn, and Connor struggled not to give themselves away. Only Isabeau’s hand on my arm stopped me from launching out of the tree.

“Montmartre,” Solange cal ed out, swinging the crown from her fingertips, the faint moonlight glimmering on the diamonds.

“Let’s make a trade.”



Montmartre looked up, smile widening. “Solange, darling. So glad to see you’ve recovered.”

Helena closed her eyes briefly. “Solange, no.”

“Stay the hel away from my daughter,” Liam added, seething.

Montmartre flicked his hand dismissively. Solange took another step forward, out of the protection of the sheltering trees.

“Little idiot.” Logan seethed. “The last time she gave herself up for us, she nearly got kil ed.”

“I knew you’d come to your senses,” Montmartre told her pleasantly, his long hair hanging down his back.

“If you let my family go unharmed,” she said, fisting her hands to hide the trembling of her fingers, “I’l stay with you.”

“The hel you wil ,” Logan yel ed, final y swinging into the clearing. His brothers fol owed suit, like deranged monkeys. I barely had time to whistle the dogs into an attack.

Every single one of the Drake brothers was insane.

We had no idea if the Hounds were close enough to help us; we had barely enough weapons between us and a traitor below.

What was a lady to do?

I leaped into the fray, of course.

I staked a guard as I landed and she plumed into dust. I caught her sword before it fel in the grass with her empty clothes. I drove the bottle shard smeared with Montmartre’s blood into the ground. The Hel-Blar would fol ow its scent to us. They would make things worse, no doubt about that, but they’d attack Montmartre and the Host at least as much as they’d attack us.

The Host didn’t hesitate, didn’t even wait for orders. Helena didn’t hesitate either. The very second Montmartre glanced at her daughter, she kicked the crossbow out of his hand. She couldn’t do much more than that; there were too many of them.

Liam roared to his feet, Sebastian and Marcus spun to fight their captors. The dogs growled and bit their way through the Host. Nicholas and Connor were fighting back-to-back and Quinn was flipping his way to Solange’s side. Greyhaven was in the middle of it al with wildflowers incongruously around his knees. I saw him open his cel phone and bark a terse command into it. There were too many battle sounds to hear him properly but I could read his lips. It’s time.

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