Blood Feud
Page 60

“I told you the Drake boys are harder to kil than that.” Quinn smirked and clapped me on the shoulder. Nicholas and Connor did the same. They turned to Isabeau cautiously.
“Isabeau,” Solange said politely.
I bumped her with my shoulder. “She didn’t murder me, as you can see, so chil out.”
Solange looked a little sheepish. “Sorry.”
“I understand,” Isabeau said quietly. “Could I borrow someone’s phone?”
Solange handed hers over and Isabeau dialed quickly.
“Magda? Are you al right? Kala?”
I could hear Magda’s reply. “Kala’s fine. We set some of the dogs loose to find you.”
“I know. We found each other. Did you get rid of the Hel-Blar?
” Isabeau asked.
We eavesdropped without pretense.
“Yes, but only just,” Magda replied. “And we haven’t had a chance to go back to the caves and make sure none are nesting.”
“Listen, Montmartre’s making his move tonight, right now, against the Drakes. We have to stop him.”
“Why?” Magda snapped. Isabeau glanced my way, wincing.
“What do I care about the royal courts? And we have enough problems of our own tonight, if you hadn’t noticed.”
“Believe me, I noticed,” Isabeau shot back. “And if you want to know why, it’s because we’re next.”
“Fine,” she grumbled.
“I’l keep you posted.” Isabeau clicked off.
“Where’s Lucy?” I asked the others.
“At the farmhouse,” Nicholas said with grim satisfaction.
“How’d you manage that?”
“She’s in a closet.” Solange rol ed her eyes.
I stared at Nicholas. “You locked your girlfriend in a closet?
Smooth.”
“She’s going to eviscerate him,” Quinn said cheerful y.
“Yeah, wel , she’l be alive to do it,” Nicholas said. “And that’s al I care about right now.”
“What about the others? Mom and Dad at the courts?” Connor shook his head. “No, and they never made it home.
It’s nearly sunrise, so they must have gotten caught in between.
Sebastian and Marcus are with them.”
I checked my pocket watch. “They can’t have been ambushed that long ago. They’l stil be alive. They have to be.” I looked at Solange. “Did you cal Kieran?”
“Yeah, but the Helios-Ra can’t help us.”
“Why the hel not? What’s the point of dating a hunter if you can’t use him?”
“They’ve got their hands ful ,” Connor explained. “Hel-Blar are close enough to town to cause a serious problem.”
“Greyhaven,” I said, disgusted.
“What does he have to do with it?”
“He’s been making vamps on the sly,” I answered. “I guarantee most of them went feral. The ones who didn’t are helping him plan a coup to oust Montmartre, while the others are being used as misdirection.”
“Shit,” Quinn said. “Bastard.”
“You have no idea.” I looked at Isabeau, but her expression was careful y blank. “So now the problem is, how do we find Mom and Dad in time?”
“I can help with that,” Isabeau said confidently, “but I need something of theirs. A piece of clothing would be ideal.”
“Magic?”
She shook her head, half smiling. “Dogs.”
“Oh. Right.”
Solange and my brothers looked at one another and shook their heads. “We’ve got nothing on us and no time to go home and get it,” Quinn said.
“Wait.” Solange opened her pack. “I have something that belonged to Montmartre. It was left at the property line in the woods. We found it on the way here.” She pul ed out a slender, delicate silver crown, dripping with diamonds and rubies. She made a face. “He doesn’t go for the subtle metaphor, does he?”
“He gave you a tiara?” I grimaced. “Tacky.”
“I know, right?”
“It’s perfect,” Isabeau said, plucking it out of her hands.
“Gwynn,” she cal ed over one of the hounds. He was huge, tal er than Charlemagne with a distinctly regal bearing. He padded over to her and she held out the crown. “Scent,” Isabeau demanded. Obediently, he sniffed the ornate filigrees, the egg-sized rubies and seed pearls. “Good boy. Now find Montmartre!
”
H e woofed once and fit his nose to the ground, smel ing through the undergrowth. Isabeau made sure the other dogs received the same instructions, giving them a good thorough scent of the crown. “Find Montmartre!” she repeated.
“Your dogs have a ‘find Montmartre’ command?” I asked.
“Yes,” she answered with a dark smile. “You forget how much we dislike him.”
We trailed after the dogs and it wasn’t long before Gwynn lifted a paw and then resumed his sniffing, more fiercely this time.
“He’s got the scent,” Isabeau murmured.
“Good. Let’s go kick some ass,” Quinn said, withdrawing a stake from the leather strap across his chest.
“Hey, give me one of those.” I took one from Connor as wel and handed it to Isabeau. She’d tossed the broken lilac branch into the bushes earlier.
“Wait,” Isabeau said repressively as we jogged after the dogs. “We need a plan.”