Out for Blood Page 7

“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 totally telling 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 still 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 all.

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 sympathetically. Solange swallowed 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 will 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 usually 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 all 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 all Alpha male.”

“This is serious, Lucy.”

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

“If you don’t stop talking I will hide all 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 fallen 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 followed 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 all 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.

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