My Love Lies Bleeding
Page 52

 Alyxandra Harvey

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“This way.”
Actually, standing around was starting to have some appeal.
The damp cavern gave way to an arched stone hallway lit with oil lamps set into deep crevices. The dirt floor became flagstone layered with Persian rugs as we went deeper into the labyrinthine caves. The Araksaka fanned out, three in front, three in back. I felt like I was in the middle of a particularly tense vampire sandwich.
Shadowed figures coalesced in the dark openings to watch us pass. Eyes and teeth gleamed menacingly. By the time we reached the central cave, which was surprisingly tall, with jeweled stalactites, a crowd of pale-eyed vampires waited for us.
Quartz glittered in the walls between hand-embroidered tapestries showing various events in vampire history and lore. There was a lot of red thread. The furniture was an eclectic mixture of antiques passed down through the centuries. It was mostly old wood, with a smooth patina of age, accented with a few modern pieces here and there.
I was trying really hard not to focus on the hissing. Even growing up around the Drakes wasn’t quite enough to immunize me to that many vampires. The air was so thick with pheromones that adrenaline poured through my bloodstream. I felt a little drunk and edgy with it. More than one vampire licked his lips, staring at me like I was chocolate mousse cake. I lifted my crossbow threateningly. The vampires eased back, but only barely.
There were mirrors everywhere. There were massive ones in gilded frames, tall cheval glasses, small broken shards glued to the wall. And in the center of the cavern, there was a single throne made of white thorn wood, the kind that makes the best stakes, carved into dozens of pale crows. Every feather was painstakingly detailed, and their obsidian eyes glittered in the torchlight. Sitting on the throne, smiling faintly, was Lady Natasha. She was beautiful, of course, and dramatic, with long, straight blond hair. Her bangs were cut straight over arched brows and pale blue eyes so light they appeared nearly translucent. She was slender and as white as a birch sapling.
“And what have we here?” she murmured, sultry as a long summer night. Her voice held back the ocean of tension as if it were a cup of water. “Hansel and Gretel, lost in the woods?”
Soft laughter draped over us like fur blankets. I locked my knees together so they wouldn’t shake.
“I’ve come for the bounty,” I announced. “I’ve captured a Drake.”
“Have you now?” One of her guards handed her a glass goblet filled with blood.
She took a dainty sip, dabbed at her lips with a square of lace. “And you are?”
“I’m with Hope.”
“I see.” She tilted her head. “Arrogant smirk, lovely cheekbones. Yes, this is definitely one of Liam’s spawn.”
“Go to hell,” Nicholas spat.
“And Helena’s spawn as well, clearly. Abominable manners.”
“The bounty?” I asked, my brain racing frantically. We needed to leave this main hall with its crowds of vampires, but I didn’t know how to get us out of there.
And then it went from bad to worse.
Much, much worse.
Kieran Black stalked toward us, trailing guards. His face was all angles, his smile sharp and insolent. In his hands he held a wooden box inlaid with pearls. Before any of us could move or even speak, he flipped open the lid.
Inside, a heart dripped blood through the iron hinges.
“The heart of Solange Drake,” he announced. “Your Majesty.” CHAPTER 23
Lucy
Everything stopped.
I couldn’t bring myself to look away from the red lump bleeding in the delicate box.
The pearls went pink under the oozing blood. Nausea rolled in my stomach. I couldn’t form a coherent thought, couldn’t move, could barely breathe.
Not Solange. Not Solange.
Kieran stood like any good soldier, looking straight ahead, blood dripping at his feet. He was muddy and tired, his sleeves pushed up to display his Helios-Ra tattoo. I had never physically hated anyone in my entire life the way I hated him now.
“No,” I finally choked out. “It’s not possible.”
“So many gifts,” Lady Natasha murmured, rising gracefully to her feet.
And then, chaos.
“My baby sister,” Nicholas yelled, leaping into the air, fangs extended, snapping his handcuffs apart. He aimed at Kieran’s throat, his eyes like silver coins. Lady Natasha raised an eyebrow, and it was as if she’d let out a battle yell. Araksaka closed in from all directions so quickly their feather tattoos seemed to flutter.
“Nicholas, behind you!” It wasn’t enough to help him in any way, but it was just enough to give ourselves away entirely. I was hardly part of Hope’s unit if I was trying to save my Drake captive. And I did try. I went to pull one of my stakes from its sheath, but it was as if I were moving in slow motion and everyone else was in fast-forward, like those nature documentaries where an orchid blooms and wilts in three seconds. Only we were trapped in a garden of vampires, blooming like deadly nightshade and belladonna and thirsty for our blood.
Nicholas didn’t land as he’d planned, thrown off course by the flying granny boot of an Araksaka, which caught him full in the chest. Kieran went into a roll and came up several feet away, bloody heart rolling across the floor. I gagged as it came to a soggy halt near my left foot. I was shaking and choking on the bile in my throat and absolutely no match for the guards who grabbed me.
“Get off her.” Nicholas struggled as he was hauled to his feet, nose bleeding sluggishly. Kieran wouldn’t look at me. Lady Nata-sha flicked her hand.