Bleeding Hearts Page 52

“Oh. Cool.”

“And if you get surprised from behind, it’s easier to stab backward.”

I felt the need to defend my lack of fighting skills. “I’m used to pepper spray.”

“Can you run?” he asked.

“Of course I can.”

“You might have to,” he said grimly when Saga blew her whistle for a third time and still the Hel-Blar ran at us.

“Mangy, scurvy-rotten dogs,” she spat, trading her whistle for a cutlass. Emma was already flinging silver-tipped stakes. The Hel-Blar descended like cannibalistic beetles. They weren’t wearing collars. The sounds they made and the way they moved, shuffling and creeping, made me shiver all over. Even my toes were trembling.

Connor grabbed my arm and hauled me out of the way. We jumped over a bench and he half carried, half dragged me toward the maze. The battle continued behind us, jaws snapping, stakes flying, Saga laughing.

“Into the maze,” Connor said. “Before they realize we’ve gone.”

Okay, I take it back. Geeky nice boys are way hotter than bad boys.

Especially when they were taking off their shirts.

“What are you doing?” I asked. I was thinking, “Whoa. Hello.”

“There’s blood on this.” He contorted to wipe the last bit of blood off his wound, then threw the shirt in the direction opposite of where we were going. “Might buy us a few minutes.”

The entrance to the maze was narrow, cedar catching at my hair. White flowers glowed in the darkness, tendrils climbing the odd labyrinth. The ground was weedy underfoot. I was already lost and we hadn’t even stepped inside yet. I hated puzzles. I wasn’t any good at them, despite the hundred times Lucy had made me watch the movie Labyrinth to swoon over David Bowie in tight pants.

“I really hate everyone right now,” I announced, running to keep up with his long strides. “I just want to be reading Pride and Prejudice for the hundredth time and eating ice cream.”

“I know,” Connor said, still holding my hand, cool fingertips grazing the inside of my wrist.

An owl called from somewhere in the forest, but all we could see was the path through green darkness and the barest hint of light from the moon hitting the snow on the mountaintop. I wondered if my mom felt like this right now, lost in her own battle. If she could defeat her illness, I could defeat this. I was just going to have to pretend it was that simple.

We ran, skidding on weeds and pine needles and old leaves. I smelled mushrooms faintly. The Hel-Blar were on our heels, despite the battle.

“Hold on,” I said when we had to double back a second time and retrace our steps. My breath was burning in my throat. “In the story of Theseus and the Minotaur, Ariadne gives Theseus a red thread to carry through the labyrinth. So he doesn’t get lost.”

“I don’t have thread,” Connor said doubtfully. “You?”

“Well, no,” I admitted. “And she holds it at one end so he can find his way back from the center. But we want to go straight through.”

“Still, it’s a good idea. We have to find a way to mark where we’ve been so we don’t end up back at the beginning.” His fists clenched. If he thought any harder he’d hurt himself. “I know! My mom told us about something like this. A military trick to help you not get lost.”

“Your mom knows weird stuff.”

“You have no idea.” He put his hand on the cedars. “Apparently, if we always stay to our left, we won’t get lost. And one of us has to touch the wall at all times.”

I followed behind him, ducking under a stray flower. “Not all the turns are left, though,” I pointed out when we came to a dead end three turns later.

“But it’s easier to backtrack,” he said, even going so far as to walk backward to the last left we’d taken. He went right, then went back to staying to the left of the path and taking all left turns. It might take us forever, but hopefully we’d find our way out. “We need weapons.” He looked at the ground. “If you see any good stones, fill your pockets.”

I jogged to keep up with him. We passed a statue of a woman draped in a toga and moss. Her head was at her feet, staring blankly at us.

“Uh, Christa?”

“Yeah?”

“Run faster!”

Chapter 20

Lucy

I was reaching for a stake before I recognized him.

I knew that dark hair, the pale skin, and the very fine muscles as he bent over farther into my bedroom.

Nicholas.

“Lucy,” he whispered. “Lucy, wake up!”

I would probably never get another chance to surprise him again. He normally had all the advantages: speed, strength, and a preternatural nose. But right now I was downwind, and he wasn’t expecting me. I smiled, taking out my cell phone.

“Boo!”

He jumped so fast and so hard, the window rattled. He also made a weird sound, like a choked scream, followed by a stream of curses. Then he whirled, stake in hand. It all happened in the space of a single heartbeat. I hit the camera button and took a photo of his shocked face, gray eyes wide as plates.

Then I laughed so hard I doubled over, gasping for breath.

“You know, some people are scared of vampires,” he informed me drily, sauntering over to my side. I just snorted, still laughing. It wasn’t very attractive to snort like a pig in front of your boyfriend, but I couldn’t help it. I dropped onto the cold grass, chortling. He looked down at me. “Are you done?”

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