Blood Feud
Page 46

Too much, too fast for one expression. And it was washed over with a thin veneer of panic. Clearly Greyhaven wasn’t the spontaneous sort. He didn’t like having the plans changed.
Since those plans involved kil ing my family and marrying my little sister against her wil , he could bite me.
“We have to warn them,” I said to Isabeau. Suddenly, hovering like a waft of mist was extremely annoying. I was too angry and tense and worried to float; I wanted to feel the ground under my boots as I thundered through the woods to the royal caves. I wanted the hilt of a good sword in my hand, the smooth deadly grip of a stake. Now.
Greyhaven frowned lightly and peered suspiciously into the dark corners of the room.
“Merde. ” Isabeau reached for me before I could reach for her.
Her fingers dug into my arm. “Think of your body,” she whispered, her mouth so close to my ear it tickled the lobe.
Greyhaven’s head jerked up and then we were shimmering through another bout of vertigo. I had no idea if he’d seen us. I had no idea which way was up and which was down. I hurtled through the air for what felt like years and then landed in a lump right beside my body. I looked decidedly more peaceful than I felt.
Isabeau looked utterly shel -shocked, as if her astral limbs were heavy as stones. Her aura flickered, like a lightbulb about to burn out.
“Hey,” I said gently, pushing to my feet. “Isabeau.” She didn’t blink, didn’t look at me, didn’t respond to her name. “Isabeau.” She’d told me to say it three times to pul her back into her body. I didn’t know if it worked when I wasn’t exactly in my body either. “Isabeau.”
Nope. Didn’t work.
She stayed ethereal and stil , like she’d swal owed the moon.
I felt tired and disoriented.
“Isabeau, damn it.”
She turned her face slowly toward me. “Logan.”
“Shit. You scared me,” I grumbled, feeling drunk. My aura looked wrong, faded.
“You should get back into your body,” she said urgently. “Right now.”
“Good idea.” I smiled sluggishly. “Isabeau?”
“Oui?”
“How exactly do I do that, ma belle?” French classes had been a good idea after al , and not just because Madame Veronique demanded a rudimentary understanding. I could charm Isabeau in her native tongue. She smiled at me. I was sure I hadn’t imagined it. Wel , pretty sure.
“Just sit back into it, as if you were sitting in a chair.”
“Okay.” I touched her cheek, or tried to. Our auras touched, sparked. “You don’t smile enough.”
“Flirt with me later, Logan.” She shoved me and I tumbled, fal ing backward and landing in my body. My arms and legs twitched, as if electricity coursed through me. I felt heavy and weird and tingled al over. Charlemagne nosed me roughly, leaving a wet cold smear on my neck. I sat up, grimacing. “Not the kiss I was hoping for, dog,” I told him. He nudged me again and I froze. I’d heard it too that time. Footsteps, bodies moving with vampire speed between the trees.
Toward us.
Isabeau was lying too stil , she wasn’t back in her body yet.
Before they could spil into the clearing, I leaped into the air and landed in a crouch at her feet, stake in my hand.
Charlemagne stood by her head.
He relaxed when the Hound warriors surrounded us.
I didn’t.
Magda stepped forward, her face unreadable.
“Logan Drake, come with us.”
“Like hel .”
Isabeau stil wasn’t moving and I had to warn my parents, had to make sure Solange was safe.
“This is not a request.” There were dogs at her feet, ears pricked, teeth bared.
I snarled. “Look, you’re at the bottom of my list of priorities I snarled. “Look, you’re at the bottom of my list of priorities right now, Magda. Take a freaking number.”
“You have been summoned by Kala.”
“She can wait too.”
Isabeau jerked once and then sat up abruptly. She blinked dazedly.
“Magda? What’s going on?”
Magda tossed her long curls back over her shoulder. “He’s been summoned for the rites.”
“What?” Isabeau leaped to her feet, nearly knocking me onto my face. “No!”
I rose slowly. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s not like that,” Isabeau said pleadingly at the warriors.
“Kala read the bones again,” one of them said. “He has to prove himself worthy of you, of the Hounds. He has to be strong enough to be one of us.”
“You never told me,” Magda added, sounding hurt.
Isabeau winced. “I know. But it doesn’t mean he’s the one.
And anyway, we don’t have time for this.”
“You can’t be handfasted without the rites,” another warrior insisted. “He has to be initiated if he’d going to be your consort.
”
“Consort?” I echoed. I stared at her. “Consort? Seriously?
That’s what they meant?”
She blushed lightly. “One of our traditions,” she said softly.
She weaved on her feet, fatigue making dark bruises under her green eyes. “Kala predicted that I would promise myself to a vampire of the royal courts. To a Drake.”
“And here I thought you didn’t like me.”
“It’s not like that.” She pushed her hair out of her face. “We have to warn the others,” she said. “Kala’s orders.” My fangs were out, my fists clenched. “Let me at least cal my parents to warn them.”