Logan took me down a hal and kicked a door open to a guest room. The windows had thick wooden shutters with strong iron locks on the inside. There was a narrow writing desk and a padded chair by a fireplace. The mahogany bed was huge and soft-looking, with a smal discreet fridge by the end table. I knew it would be stocked with blood. I was stil young enough to need to feed immediately upon waking, something al the Drake children must also be dealing with. It raised my opinion of their hosting capabilities so far, drastical y.

Logan laid me gently down on the bed, leaning so close that I could see the flecks of darker green in his irises. I swal owed.

“I feel like I know you,” he murmured. “Is that weird?” I didn’t know what to say. Charlemagne hopped up to lie next to me on the quilt, breaking the moment before I could find a reply. Logan stepped back.

“I’l leave you alone,” he said. “When Lucy came out of the Hypnos she broke Nicholas’s nose. I’d wager you have a stronger swing and I happen to like my nose exactly where it is.

No one wil disturb you,” he added fiercely. “Come down whenever you’re ready. I’l be waiting.”

He bowed. “Mademoiselle.”

The door shut very quietly behind him. When I could hear by his footsteps that he was down the stairs and out of earshot, I al owed myself a very smal sigh. Charlemagne tilted his head curiously.

“This isn’t going at al according to plan,” I told him.

CHAPTER 4

LOGAN

My brothers are idiots.

Anyone can see that under the scars and the attitude, Isabeau is more fragile than she looks. And as a reclusive Hound princess, her first introduction to the royal family shouldn’t be a dose of Hypnos and four idiots gawking at her.

If I’d managed not to gawk, they sure as hel could have. She was beautiful, fierce, and utterly unlike anyone I’d ever known.

It was real y hard not to gawk.

Much better to pace outside her door with one of our Bouviers sitting at the top of the stairs watching me curiously.

“This sucks, Boudicca,” I told her. “I don’t think we inherited Dad’s diplomacy.”

She laid her chin on her paws. I could have sworn she rol ed her eyes.

I hovered by Isabeau’s door for another fifteen minutes until I started feeling like a stalker. Solange came down the hal from her room and met me at the staircase.

“She’l be fine, Logan.”

“I know.”

She tilted her head. “Did you change your shirt?”

“No.”

“You total y did.” She grinned. “Too bad your girlfriend tried to kil my boyfriend.”

I snorted. “Too bad he dosed her with drugs. And she’s not my girlfriend. I just met her. And lower your voice, would you?” She raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

“Shut up, princess.” I mock-glowered at her. She narrowed her eyes at the term “princess.”

“I wil dye al your pirate shirts pink,” she threatened.

I just grinned. “I’d stil make them look good.” She paused on the landing, her expression turning serious.

“Is it true an assassin tried to stake Mom?”

“Who told you that?”

She poked my shoulder. Hard.

“Ow,” I said, rubbing the bruise. “What was that for?”

“For thinking I’m dumb and avoiding giving me an answer.”

“I don’t think you’re dumb.”

“Then stop trying to shield me, Logan.”

“No.”

She made a sound of frustration in the back of her throat.

I sighed. “Fine. Yes. Some girl tried to stake Mom. No one was hurt.”

“Montmartre?”

“Yeah, she wore his insignia.” I hated to admit it. Especial y when her face went hard and her eyes flat. “But she staked herself before we could get any answers.”

“Damn it.” She slapped the wal , rattling the crystal chandelier above us. “He’s trying to make me queen by kil ing Mom.” above us. “He’s trying to make me queen by kil ing Mom.”

“Looks like,” I admitted. I slung an arm over her shoulder. “But it’s not going to happen.”

She rubbed her arms as if she were cold. Vampires didn’t real y get cold, so it was more habit than necessity. “I hope you’re right, Logan.”

“I’m always right.”

She chuckled, which is what I’d intended. “Careful, you’l be as vain as Quinn soon.”

“No one’s as vain as Quinn,” Lucy said from the bottom of the stairs. She was carrying a mug of hot chocolate and a handful of cookies. Taking advantage of her stay with us, she was gorging herself on white sugar and junk food. She had more issues with her mom’s tofu casserole than the fact that everyone currently around her drank blood.

“Where’s everybody?” I asked. A fire popped in the hearth but the living room was empty. So was the kitchen.

“Fixing the wal outside,” Lucy replied.

The north side of the farmhouse was a mess of scorched and water-damaged logs. The wraparound porch had taken the brunt of the attack when Hope busted out of the guest room and returned with the rest of her crazy rogue Helios-Ra agents.

Bruno spent so much time in the home-improvement stores since then muttering his bewilderment at us on his cel phone that we’d started hearing “noises” in the woods so he’d stay home and patrol the perimeters. Hope had a lot to answer for.