The inside of our tent was lit with oil lamps, the grass was covered with thick Persian rugs, and Madame Veronique’s hand-embroidered tapestry of the Drake insignia hung on one wall. There were couches, wooden tables, carved benches, and a long medieval-style table.

I pushed my tangled hair off my face and tried not to look guilty. “Hi, Mom.”

“Don’t you ‘Hi, Mom’ me,” she returned sharply. “You were brought in unconscious at dawn.” She was wearing her black battle leathers. Queen or not, Blood Moon or not, Mom was Mom.

“I just lost my way in the woods.”

“Which is why you should have had a guard with you,” Dad interjected smoothly. His calm disappointment was every bit as bad as Mom’s temper. “I’m sure we talked about this.”

I swallowed a retort, which would’ve had me grounded, vampire princess or not.

“I’m a vampire,” I said. “It’s not like I’m defenseless.”

“You’re also sixteen years old, young lady,” Mom snapped. “And you have a curfew for a damn good reason.”

“I know,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry.” I needed to get out of here. I had to find out if Kieran was okay. I glanced at the door. Torches flickered on the other side of the painted canvas. I shifted toward it.

“Where do you think you’re going? We’re not done here.”

“Mom, I said I was sorry.” I was having flashbacks to this summer, when everyone hovered around me and worried. I literally itched under my skin. I wasn’t going to be the princess in the tower anymore. Not for anyone. “I have to go.”

“Where?”

“To see Kieran.”

She shook her head. “He can wait.”

But that was the thing. I didn’t know if he could.

“I’m going.”

“Solange.” Dad rose to his feet. He looked worried. “It’s not safe. For either of you.”

“And we’ll be going on lockdown in a couple of days,” Mom added.

“I know,” I said. “All the more reason you should let me go tonight before the Blood Moon starts. It’s not like I can call him from here.”

Dad looked briefly proud. He always preened a little when one of us won an argument using plain, calm logic. It was the same pride Mom felt when we could hit a moving target with a throwing knife. Mom saw the look and sighed. “Fine. Back by 3:00 a.m.,” she told me sternly. “And take someone with you.”

I grabbed my leather jacket off the coat tree. The inside pockets were heavy with stakes, daggers, and assorted weaponry. I stopped under the overhang, and I would’ve taken a deep breath of the cold mountain air if I still breathed. The weight of the past few months and the memory of Kieran’s blood on my lips made me shudder.

“Are you sick?” Nicholas asked, coming out of the shadows. “You look weird.”

“I’m fine.” I eyed him warningly. “I wish people would stop asking me that.”

“Okay.” He shrugged. “So long as you don’t throw up on my shoes.”

“Deal.” I half smiled. “I have to go to town.”

“Does Mom know?”

“Shut up.”

“Cranky.”

I wrinkled my nose. “A little. Will you come with me?”

“Sure.”

We stepped out into the bustle of the fields, the stars so crisp overhead you could see the Milky Way. There was a path already worn through the grass, torches flickering where it branched out. Guards stood at the front and back of every tent. The ones with royal crests on their shirts dipped their heads when they saw us.

“That’s still weird,” Nicholas muttered.

The one I’d lulled to sleep last week with my pheromones watched me warily. I tried an apologetic smile. Heads turned curiously when my extra fangs caught the light. I let my hair screen my face. “Damn it.” Constantine would’ve told me to flash them proudly. I couldn’t see him anywhere. Whispers rolled in our wake, like ripples behind a boat on a clear pond.

“It’s just a couple of teeth.” I hunched my shoulders. “What’s the big damn deal?” I asked, even though those same teeth had me in a panic a few days ago. The extra fangs weren’t normal; neither was the keen bloodlust or the fact that my pheromones worked on other vampires. We were still trying to keep that last part a secret.

“It’s not that,” Nicholas replied grimly.

“What then?” He was suddenly so close to my side, I stumbled when his elbow knocked me off balance. “What are you doing?”

“It’s the Furies.”

I blinked. “Who?”

“Sebastian told me about them. They used to serve Lady Natasha.”

I went cold at the mention of her name. She might be dead, on the tip of my mother’s stake to be exact, but she’d also tried to kill me and eat my heart. It wasn’t something you forgot.

And apparently I wasn’t the only one who remembered.

There were seven Furies: three vampires and four human bloodslaves, all women. They had dyed their hair the same white as Lady Natasha. They even wore it in the exact same style, bone straight with severe bangs. They wore elaborate white dresses, just like she had the night she tried to kill me. They looked exactly like her except that they each had the mark of her house tattooed on their faces: three black raven feathers. The feathers they wore in their hair were bleached white.