ball.”

I ground my teeth. “Oh, I don’t think so.” I reached for the vial of Veronique’s blood Logan had said she was wearing around her neck. I frowned, lifted her head to see if it had fallen behind her. “Where’s the vial? Kieran, where is it?”

“She used it to save Hyacinth.”

“What?” I let her head drop, none too gently. “It’s the only thing that could have saved her.” I slapped the ground. “You know what this means?” I asked grimly.

“What?”

“Lady Natasha might just get her wish.”

Monday evening

When Nicholas finally woke up, it wasn’t pretty. He went from unconscious to hyperalert so fast I missed the transition.

“You bloody bastard.” His eyes flashed as he stalked him. “You killed my sister!”

“Wait—,” Kieran screamed when Nicholas grabbed his broken arm. He kicked out, aiming for Nicholas’s knees. There was a grunt, more sounds of fists and feet hitting flesh.

“Nicholas!” I shouted through the bars. “Nicholas, stop it.”

“He killed Solange.”

“No, he didn’t.” Kieran was dangling off the ground, his face going purple. “Put him down.”

“He has to pay.”

“Nicholas Drake.”

He didn’t let go, but he did finally turn to look at me. I pointed to Solange, on her back on the pallet. He dropped Kieran so fast, Kieran stumbled.

“Solange? Solange!”

“She hasn’t moved since they brought her here.”

He finally grinned, looking like the Nicholas I remembered from the Christmas Eve he got his first bike. “She’s not dead!” He frowned. “Why don’t you look happier?”

“She gave her vial away.”

“She gave her . . . son of a bitch.”

I leaned my forehead on the cold bars.

“Today just sucks.” I tried for a smile. “On the plus side, I get to see you prance around in tights.”

Only his eyebrow moved, but it was enough. “I beg your pardon?” I pointed to the pile of clothes on the ground by his foot. “Your formal wear.” He glanced at it, then back at me. “Nice dress. Can you breathe in that thing?” I smoothed the front of my dress. “It would be much more fun to wear if it wasn’t what I was going to be buried in.”

“You are not going to be buried.” He paused, lifted the clothes up suspiciously.

“Vampires don’t bury their victims,” he added distractedly.

“Hey, looking for comfort here.”

“Sorry.” He shook out the doublet, complete with lace froth at the cuff s. “Logan would love this.” He smirked at me. “No tights.” He dropped everything. “I’m still not wearing this crap.”

“They seemed rather adamant.”

“She can kiss my— hey.” He scowled at Kieran. “There’s only one costume. How come you don’t have dress up like some eighteenth-century jackass?” Kieran was still cradling his arm, his hair damp with sweat. He looked wan but still managed to smirk back. “I’m not a prince from the illustrious Drake family.”

“Cut it out.” Nicholas’s ears actually went red. I was so going to tease him about that later. “I’m not a bloody prince.”

“May as well be.” Kieran shrugged his good shoulder. “Lady Natasha knows more than half her court would defect if Solange wanted them to. They’re just waiting for a better offer.”

“I’m still not wearing this.” Nicholas plucked at the ribbon on the black velvet sleeve of the doublet

“Yeah, you are,” I said cheerfully. “Or else they’ll strip you naked when they come get us.”

He glared at me for a long time and then pulled off his shirt, muttering vile curses the entire time. I caught a glimpse of bare chest, wondered if I should look away to give him privacy, then decided that it might be my last chance to see him with his shirt off . His arms were lean and sculpted, like a swimmer’s.

“I didn’t get to see you take your clothes off,” he complained.

“That’s what you get for sleeping all day,” I quipped back. He went farther into the shadows to exchange his pants for the leather breeches. Too bad. When he emerged again, he looked pretty good even though it wasn’t his style. And he was lucky there were no tights, after all. He tilted his head.

“You like it.”

“Shut up.” I blushed. I hated vampire extrasensory perception. It wasn’t fair that he could hear my heartbeat or smell my skin or what ever.

“Girls are so weird.”

Kieran snorted. “No kidding.”

“Please, you two were fighting ten minutes ago, and now you’re the best of friends?” I said witheringly. “Guys are weird.” I turned back to Solange, touched her hand. “She’s still not moving.”

Nicholas and Kieran both went grim, quiet.

“She’ll need blood,” Nicholas finally said. “But I’m sure Bruno got hold of my parents by now, and they’ll bring it with them. I doubt it’s a secret Solange is here.

Natasha does rather seem to want to make this as public as possible.”

“Do we have a plan?”

“We fight like hell.”

“Good plan.”

It wasn’t long before the Araksaka filed down the stone steps to escort us to the hall. I wouldn’t let go of Solange’s hand, even when one of them lifted her up to slide an embroidered silver robe over her torn dress. She looked so fragile, with her dark hair and pale features. They marched us upstairs. They wore white silk shirts and heavy breeches, which should have made them look silly but instead made them seem even more fierce. One of them shoved me when I got in the way because I was still clinging to Solange. I stumbled.