Blood Moon

  My nose twitched. “I can smell them on you.”

  Kieran looked confused. “Who? The vampires?”

  “No, girls.”

  “Girls? What are you talking about?” He’s lying to us. He can’t be trusted.

  A part of me recognized that he was truly mystified by the change of topic and that I was overreacting. But the rage inside me, always looking for a place to land, just didn’t care.

  “At least three different girls on you,” I said, lips lifting off my teeth while I sorted through the scents. Kieran’s hand hovered over the stake in his belt. I grabbed the lapel of his jacket, keeping him still. “Didn’t waste any time, did you?”

  I was close enough now that the perfume of my enraged pheromones made his jaw clench. His fingertips grazed the top of his stake, but he didn’t pull it loose. His other hand shot to my hip, fighting the pull of my grip on his coat. We were frozen in a feral dance, with only the music of the blood pumping viciously in my veins. His breath was warm on my cheek.

  “Who are they?” I demanded.

  Lucy rolled her eyes. “Me, Hunter, and Chloe. We were fighting off vampires sent to kill him, remember? Get a grip already.”

  We both ignored her.

  He eased closer, the lines of his face harsh. “What about Constantine?”

  “This isn’t about him.”

  “Then what’s it about?”

  We were so close and he felt so right, as if it were just the two of us in the safe house under the ground where we’d first really talked as a girl and a boy, not a vampire and a hunter, that I nearly kissed him. Or he nearly kissed me. I couldn’t be sure. I was all fire and sharp edges. I was still angry, and the bloodlust snaked through me like a drop of fiery poison in a glass of water.

  He’s not worthy of us.

  I leaned closer. For what, I wasn’t sure.

  “Uh, guys?”

  We were still locked together. The intensity of Kieran’s eyes went soft. I was leaning in toward his neck, which was still healing from our last encounter in the woods, when Lucy made a strange “eep” sound.

  “Solange!” she added, trying to shove between us. “Don’t!”

  I saw through a red veil, as if it were raining blood. I could already feel the give of Kieran’s skin under my bite, taste his blood in my mouth. Lucy’s elbow dug into my sternum, but it didn’t stop me. She was like a tiny firefly trying to move a boulder. Her feet dragged on the ground as she tried to find purchase. “Stop, stop, stop!”

  “Yes, do.” Constantine was suddenly there as well, his voice gentle and dark in my ear.

  I didn’t let go, but I didn’t press forward either. He slipped a goblet of blood between us, waited until the scent had distracted me enough to break eye contact. Without the full force of my pheromones, Kieran pulled free so abruptly that Lucy stumbled back a step.

  Kieran shook his head like a wet dog. Lucy had no idea what to do, and that never happened. I drained the cup with trembling hands.

  And then the walkie-talkie in my pocket warbled, changing everything. Mom’s voice was sharp as nails in the soft bower.

  “Nicholas is missing.”

  Chapter 23

  Lucy

  Tuesday morning, before dawn

  For a long frozen, broken moment, everything stopped.

  The blood in my veins, my heart in my chest, my breath in my lungs. There was no space for anything inside me but shock and fear. I was watching myself from far away, standing in the woods by candlelight in torn jeans and a sweater my mom crocheted for me out of hand-dyed, multicolored wool. The smallest details stuck: the glint of tin lanterns, the frayed edge of the rug under a single chair under the tree, gilt paint peeling. The arms were carved to look like dragons. I was cold, too cold to move.

  Solange was the first to break the tableau of shock. She grabbed for the walkie-talkie so fast it whipped out of her hand and crashed into the trunk of a black maple and broke. Bats formed a cloud over our heads. Kieran stepped closer to her, and she looked up at him, eyes wide and impossibly blue.

  I shook my head violently. “Let’s go,” I said finally, my voice grim as a rusted lock clicking shut.

  “Where?”

  I bared my teeth like a wounded badger. “To find Nicholas. To talk to your parents.”

  “I could—”

  “Now, Solange.”

  She flinched at my tone, but I was already stalking away, systematically checking my weapons, Kieran at my heels. He bent to pick up a fallen branch as we walked. It was long enough to be used as a staff. He was sharpening one end of it with a hunting knife when I shoved past Constantine’s guard. I nearly burst into tears when I saw Bruno’s familiar face waiting on the other side of them.

  “Come on, lass,” he said gruffly, his Scottish accent suddenly thick as mist on the heath. The lines at his eyes were pronounced. Even his tattoos looked stark. “Where’s herself?”

  “I’m here,” Solange answered quietly, suddenly standing beside me. Even Bruno hadn’t seen her move, and he was as used to vampires as he was to his morning coffee. Constantine was there too, but I ignored him. I didn’t have time for anyone but Nicholas.

  Bruno patted her shoulder gingerly, as if he wanted to offer comfort to the little girl he’d been protecting her entire life but wasn’t sure if his hand might get broken for his trouble. Solange smiled at him wobbily.

  We followed him quickly. Constantine was on Solange’s right, his hand on the back of her neck. Kieran was on her left, and she was holding his hand in the shadows, gripping so tightly I saw the muscles in his forearms twitch. But he didn’t let go. And he didn’t say a word to me, just passed the staff over with his free hand. It was whittled to a killing point, like the staves I was learning to use with Hunter. I felt better with the weight of it in my hand.

  The Drakes waited in a concerned huddle over a map laid out on a tree stump. A thin creek meandered beside them, glittering like a broken mirror. I couldn’t help but think of Lady Natasha’s mirrors in the royal courts. Nicholas had survived her; he could survive this too. Whatever this was.

  There was instant comfort in the calm, authoritative way Liam ordered the guards to patrol, even with the haggard tension around his eyes. Connor and Quinn were identical lean swords of anger under the pine trees. Marcus frowned and Duncan’s jaw was stone. A scatter of guards stood around them. Sebastian was listening patiently as always, noticing everything. He was the first to see us approach and he nudged Liam. Liam turned, smiling a little when he saw us. Solange’s brothers eyed her warily. There was blood on their shirts.

  Helena marched toward us, sword glinting. “Lucy.” She caught me up in such a tight hug I felt my shoulders grind together, but I didn’t care. I hugged her back and tried not to cry. She finally let me go, touching my cheek, before the battle fire flared in her eyes again. I knew she’d do whatever was necessary to get her son back, and she knew I’d do whatever necessary to get my boyfriend back. It was an unspoken pact, and it helped push down the frantic panic boiling in my belly.

  “Mom, what happened?” Solange asked. She was closest to Nicholas and always had been. Kieran was still holding her hand.

  “We don’t know yet,” Helena replied. She looked at Constantine and nodded once. “Any help is appreciated,” she said bluntly. He nodded back courteously. I could guess their last conversation hadn’t been this polite.

  “Nicholas activated his GPS tag,” Connor told us. The friendly computer geek was hidden under a layer of pure Drake wrath. “I only found out just now when I went out looking for a signal.”

  “And?” Solange pressed.

  “And they found his guard’s clothes, ashes, and nothing else,” Duncan answered tightly.

  “Ransom?” I asked. “Like with Christabel?” Ransom meant he was still alive. You couldn’t collect if your victim was … no. I couldn’t go there.

  “No way of knowing yet,” Liam said. Bruno joined him at the map, already barking orders into his
phone.

  “Logan and Isabeau have already left,” Duncan added. “They’re hoping Charlemagne catches Nicholas’s scent before any more snow falls, or worse, rain.” He looked up at the white winter sky without much hope. There was already very light snow hanging between us. But Isabeau’s dogs were legendary. They’d once tracked Montmartre through this same forest.

  “Aunt Hyacinth is out already too,” Quinn added. “Uncle G. is staying back at the camp to make sure this isn’t a decoy of some sort. And to keep an eye on Christabel and London.”

  I nodded, because I couldn’t seem to find my voice. My fists clenched around the staff, splinters digging into my palm. The family had marked the spot where Nicholas had called for help. It was a red circle, like blood. There was nothing but mountain and forest around it for miles.

  “You should go back to school,” Liam told me gently.

  I found my voice real fast. “What? No way!”

  “He’s right, Luce,” Sebastian added quietly in his serious way, which was so like Nicholas my throat cramped around tears.

  “Are you high?” I asked, blinking furiously. “I’m not going home until we find him.”

  “It’s not safe here,” he said. “The forest is all vampires and Huntsmen right now.”

  “I don’t care!”

  “We could give you a guard duty, but that would be at least three guards not out searching for Nicholas,” Sebastian pointed out gently.

  It was like he’d punched me. He was usually so quiet and kind that you could forget how ruthless and blunt he could be.

  But he was right.

  The thought of going back to sit in my dorm room and wait helplessly made me want to throw up, but he was right.

  “I’ll keep you in the loop,” Connor promised.

  I nodded. I knew if I said anything now, it would be squeaky and unintelligible.

  “I’ll take her back to school,” Kieran said. “My bike’s not too far from here.”

  “I’ll go with you, at least that far,” Duncan said, pushing away from where he’d been leaning against a tree. “I’ll double-check your bike to be safe, before you take off. The trails are a bitch on the battery cables.” Bats dipped and somersaulted around him. Duncan’s jeans were frayed at the cuffs and stained with engine oil. He looked tough, like he belonged in an old James Dean movie. But when he glanced at Solange, he was all hurt puppy. I just didn’t know who to be mad at anymore. Now that the Drakes were fighting among one another, defending them was becoming a full-time job.

  “Try not to worry,” Liam said, kissing my forehead. My lower lip wobbled embarrassingly.

  Solange stopped me. Bats lowered around us like a leathery curtain. “We’ll find him,” she whispered. “Lucy, I promise.” Her eyes were pale blue as moonlight on snow, veined with red like winter lightning. The veins at her wrists and collarbone practically burned like a gasoline trail to dynamite. “No matter what.”

  We hugged briefly, and hard. The bats drifted away. Duncan and Kieran were waiting for me.

  “If they don’t find him tonight, I’m going out searching tomorrow anyway,” I said as we left the grove, ducking under branches and scrambling over fallen logs bristling with snow-encrusted mushrooms.

  “I know,” Kieran said. “I’ve already texted Hunter.”

  I tried to smile at him. “Solange was stupid to break up with you.”

  He just snorted.

  I didn’t go to my room after Kieran dropped me back off at the campus. I couldn’t stand the idea of sitting there with Sarita staring at me as I struggled not to fall apart. And I didn’t want Hunter or Chloe or Jenna to come find me. Pity was poison right now. I needed to be alone.

  I doubled back and darted into the edge of the woods, stopping just inside the shadows. I couldn’t hold back the tears for one more second. They made my vision waver and stung my cold cheeks. I sobbed until I was coughing on salt and tears and fear.

  Nicholas had to be all right.

  He just had to be.

  The bark of the tree pulled my hair, keeping me anchored. I wanted to scream and kick and give myself over to the panic, but I had to be strong. Didn’t I have to be strong? I couldn’t remember exactly why right now, but I tried to catch my breath anyway. I scrubbed my face.

  I still had the makeshift weapon Kieran had given me. And even if Sebastian was right that they couldn’t spare any guards, there was no reason I couldn’t go right now, by myself. No one had to know. And it was better than sitting around. Anything was better than sitting around.

  I fished a tissue out of my pocket, blew my nose, and skirted the lawns back to the parking lot to get my car. I’d be busted for driving out in the middle of the night for sure. I couldn’t sneak out the Lemon Drop, which is what my Dad called my car. I could walk to the mountain, but it would take most of the night and most of tomorrow too, and the trails weren’t exactly reliable. And I really only had a vague idea of where I was going. A red dot on a map. Which would already have been picked clean by vampires with a better sense of smell and excellent night vision.

  My steps slowed as I realized how futile my big gesture really was. It was enough to make me want to cry again.

  “Busted,” Hunter said quietly. I looked up, blinking back more tears. All this crying was annoying. And it froze to my eyelashes.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  She was leaning against the front door of my car in her plaid flannel pajama bottoms and three layers of thick sweaters. The tip of her nose was already red. “Are you kidding?” she asked. “You might have fooled the parentals by giving in, but you just put the rest of us on high alert. Kieran called me right after he dropped you off.”

  “I was pretty much talking myself out of it,” I conceded. “I don’t even know where to start looking.”

  She slung an arm around my shoulder, hugging me. “I’m so sorry, Lucy. But we’ll go out with you tomorrow. And Kieran’s pretty sure Eric and Connoly will help. Connoly thinks you’re cute, so he’s definitely in.”

  “We barely know where to start,” I said, shivering when the wind snaked between the rows of cars.

  “We’ll know more tomorrow,” Hunter said comfortingly, steering me back to the dorms. “I called Quinn. He sounds about as good as you look. But between the Drakes and Bruno’s guys, there’ll be people searching twenty-four seven.”

  “That’s true.” I felt infinitesimally better.

  I woke up at dawn, confused and nauseated. I lifted my head groggily. The pretty pink light filtering through my window was a personal insult.

  As the light grew stronger, Nicholas grew weaker.

  Wherever he was now, he was in even more trouble.

  I checked my phone again, but there were no updates. My eyes felt hollow with fatigue, but I was itching inside my skin. I pulled on another sweater and a scarf and went up the back stairs to the dormitory roof. It was ringed with an old-fashioned and ornate wrought-iron fence, snow gathering in the corners. The wind was vicious. I could see where the forest gave way to the mountains in the distance, under the wispy glow of the moon, fading into the pink sky.

  Mom always told me that when you don’t know what else to do, you go outside. She said the sky and the sun and the trees were healing. That the stars and the rocks could shelter you, the moon could protect you. And that chanting and burning incense and praying could help you when nothing else could.

  I wasn’t in a chanting sort of mood.

  I did tilt my head back for a moment to let the light touch my face. The clouds seemed tattered and moth-eaten, trailing snow and fitful moonlight. I begged that moon to keep Nicholas safe.

  But moonlight wasn’t enough.

  The cold wind wasn’t enough, the ice on the fence and the snow weren’t enough, and the rising sun especially was not enough.

  Because when the snow turned to rain, I wanted to scream. Rain would wash away his scent and his tracks. I suddenly felt so sharp and dangerous, you could have us
ed me as a rapier. I was filled with so much rage I practically glowed. The rage helped to smother the sickening fear and the cold iron weight of sorrow that might drag me under and keep me there. I couldn’t give up. I wouldn’t give up.

  Nicholas was strong. The Drakes were great hunters and even better fighters. Helena would burn the forest down if she had to. I had to believe he was okay and that he would come home, even if I had to force my will on the entire cosmic order. Mom said that people created their own reality. If you believed in something deeply enough and sent it enough energy, you could make it happen. She was full of stories of miraculous cancer cures and dreams that warned people off planes that fell from the sky. Isabeau might have said the same thing, calling it magic.

  I just knew I couldn’t contain this pain inside me.

  So I’d use it as a weapon.

  I screamed so long and loud, the pigeons on the roof flapped away hysterically.

  I screamed until my voice was hoarse, my throat was raw, and my face felt red enough to explode. I screamed until two teachers I didn’t know burst onto the roof, armed with stakes. One of them tried to hold me up, but I collapsed to my knees. I was still sobbing and crying and screaming when Theo pushed his way through. He crouched down in front of me, his voice sharp and practical.

  “Lucy. Lucy, stop it.” He shook me once. “I’ll sedate you if you don’t stop and breathe.”

  I gagged on a sob and dragged my sleeve across my face. My lips felt cracked and I tasted blood. Salt crusted my eyelids, making them feel sticky and unwieldy. Theo took my pulse while I tried to swallow. “I’m thirsty,” I added.

  “You think?” he shot back, but not unkindly. He checked my pupils. “You okay now?”

  I nodded. “Sorry.”

  “You need water and rest.” He helped me to my feet. I felt weak, as if I’d just had a bad flu. “And a visit to the school counselor tomorrow.”

  A few students hovered near the doorway. Mr. York ushered them back inside.