Drake Chronicles: 02 Blood Feud (26 page)

“We only need to distract him,” Solange insisted. “Give Mom and Dad and the others a chance to fight back.”

“That’s something,” Isabeau agreed. “But it’s not enough.

We’ve got the dogs,” she said as we picked up speed. “I’l cal the Hounds with directions once we know where they are and they might be able to get to us in time.”

“We can’t wait,” Quinn argued.

“I know that. We can’t just barge in either,” she insisted. “But maybe we can use one of their own tricks against them. How’s your balance?”

We looked at her like she’d lost her mind.

“Our balance? We’re not joining the circus here.”

“Just listen. We send the dogs in and then we fol ow, but from up high. If we can move from tree to tree, we’l have an advantage and the element of surprise.”

advantage and the element of surprise.”

“I haven’t swung from a trapeze lately,” Quinn said dryly, but he was grinning. “But I’l damn wel learn fast. You’re sneaky and vicious, Isabeau,” he added. “I think I like you.”

“I think they’re heading to the clearing off the fens.” Connor frowned down at the GPS on his phone. “I’m sending the coordinates to everyone we know right now.”

“Send them to Magda too.” Isabeau rattled off her number.

Two soft short whistles had the dogs moving more silently, ears perked.

“Nearly there,” Connor said.

“Let’s climb,” she suggested. Quinn and Nicholas went wide, circling to the other side of the clearing. I could smel the Host and their victims now, the forest drenched in pheromones and bloodlust. Fangs extended al around. Isabeau’s hadn’t retracted since we’d been ambushed. She shimmied up an elm tree, startling a squirrel into a hole in the trunk. She moved lightly along a high branch, dropping down onto a nearby oak branch and hopping up to another elm.

We used a curtain of leaves to hide as we assessed the situation down below. An outer circle of Host guards in their brown leather patrol ed with crossbows. We had managed to avoid their notice so far. There were more just inside the clearing and a clump of them in the center where Montmartre stood, an arrow pointed at Mom’s chest. Dad was snarling, on his knees, a sword tip grazing his jugular. Blood dripped from a gash on his temple. Sebastian and Marcus stood very stil .

Montmartre was smiling pleasantly. Greyhaven waited behind him impatiently. I wished I had a crossbow of my own.

But that would have to wait.

“
Merde
,” Isabeau snapped. “You’re not the only Drake with a martyr complex.”

Solange strol ed into the meadow, muffled curses shivering in the treetops as Nicholas, Quinn, and Connor struggled not to give themselves away. Only Isabeau’s hand on my arm stopped me from launching out of the tree.

“Montmartre,” Solange cal ed out, swinging the crown from her fingertips, the faint moonlight glimmering on the diamonds.

“Let’s make a trade.”

CHAPTER 24

Isabeau

Montmartre looked up, smile widening. “Solange, darling. So glad to see you’ve recovered.”

Helena closed her eyes briefly. “Solange, no.”

“Stay the hel away from my daughter,” Liam added, seething.

Montmartre flicked his hand dismissively. Solange took another step forward, out of the protection of the sheltering trees.

“Little idiot.” Logan seethed. “The last time she gave herself up for us, she nearly got kil ed.”

“I knew you’d come to your senses,” Montmartre told her pleasantly, his long hair hanging down his back.

“If you let my family go unharmed,” she said, fisting her hands to hide the trembling of her fingers, “I’l stay with you.”

“The hel you wil ,” Logan yel ed, final y swinging into the clearing. His brothers fol owed suit, like deranged monkeys. I barely had time to whistle the dogs into an attack.

Every single one of the Drake brothers was insane.

We had no idea if the Hounds were close enough to help us; we had barely enough weapons between us and a traitor below.

What was a lady to do?

I leaped into the fray, of course.

I staked a guard as I landed and she plumed into dust. I caught her sword before it fel in the grass with her empty clothes. I drove the bottle shard smeared with Montmartre’s blood into the ground. The
Hel-Blar
would fol ow its scent to us. They would make things worse, no doubt about that, but they’d attack Montmartre and the Host at least as much as they’d attack us.

The Host didn’t hesitate, didn’t even wait for orders. Helena didn’t hesitate either. The very second Montmartre glanced at her daughter, she kicked the crossbow out of his hand. She couldn’t do much more than that; there were too many of them.

Liam roared to his feet, Sebastian and Marcus spun to fight their captors. The dogs growled and bit their way through the Host. Nicholas and Connor were fighting back-to-back and Quinn was flipping his way to Solange’s side. Greyhaven was in the middle of it al with wildflowers incongruously around his knees. I saw him open his cel phone and bark a terse command into it. There were too many battle sounds to hear him properly but I could read his lips.
It’s time
.

He was cal ing his men for the coup.

And then suddenly that was the least of our worries.

The smel of mushrooms hit us first, and one of the dogs let out a howl-growl that warned of the
Hel-Blar
.

And then they were everywhere, like blue beetles eating through everything in their path.

Cal ing them had seemed like a good idea at the time.

Wel , not precisely a good idea, so much as the only one we had.

But it wasn’t enough.

Not nearly.

I fought my way toward Logan, using sword and stake.

Charlemagne stayed close, savaging the knee of a Host who got too close. He stayed down, clutching his leg. I jumped over him, staked another Host, and got stabbed in the left arm for my troubles.

“Logan,” I cal ed.

His eyes narrowed on my wound. “You’re hurt, damn it.” I shrugged, causing more blood to trickle down my forearm.

He ducked a stake, grabbed me, and knocked me down as an arrow grazed over our heads.

“I need to dreamwalk,” I told him.

“What,
now
?”

“We can’t win, not like this.”

“Damn,” he said, but I knew he agreed with me. “There.” He pointed to a thick nest of ferns. I rol ed into them, lying stil until the fronds draped over me. I wasn’t completely hidden but it was the best we could reasonably expect. Charlemagne stood over my head. Logan stood at my feet.

“Hurry up,” he grunted, staking a
Hel-Blar
that snapped his jaws at us.

I closed my eyes, which was an act of wil in itself; lying stil and vulnerable like this while a battle raged around me was the hardest thing I’d done, nearly as difficult as abandoning my vengeance.

I took three deep breaths, counted them slowly, focused intently on the sensation of air my lungs didn’t need; it was the ritual of it that mattered. I chanted the ancient words, then sat up, leaving my body behind lying scarred and eerily stil in the ferns.

Blood soaked silver over the grass, ashes gathered on wildflower petals and the exposed roots of knobbly oak trees.

The Drakes had only brought three guards with them when they’d left the caves for home and two of them had already been turned to dust. The third was howling, her pale skin and hair practical y glowing.

Montmartre stalked toward Solange. Connor tried to block him and was tossed into Nicholas. They both landed hard, nearly knocking Marcus down in the process. Solange, wild-eyed, threw her last stake. It went wide and only clipped Montmartre’s col ar. She flung the crown at his head, it was al she had left.

“For the last time, I don’t want the damn crown,” she yel ed.

“You can stop al this fighting,” he said. “If you come with me now.”

“Don’t you dare, Solange Rose,” Helena bel owed. “He can’t control the
Hel-Blar
and he sure as hel doesn’t keep his word.”

“And haven’t we been through this before?” Quinn grunted, punching his fist into a Host eyebal . “You couldn’t have her last week and you can’t have her now.”

We were running out of time.

I floated over the meadow and forced the energy of my glowing spirit out into the air, visualized it turning to mist and clinging to the Host and the
Hel-Blar
, choking Greyhaven with a glitter of sunlight. I visualized it so hard even my astral body dripped sweat. I was using my own energy, pushing and pushing until I was sick with exhaustion and fog snaked into the clearing. I sent it toward our enemies, gritting my astral teeth at the pain lancing through both my bodies. I’d never been able to sustain the mist for long periods of time before—it was too advanced, too draining. No help for it.

“What the hel is this?” Greyhaven batted at the mist as it clung to him. It wasn’t thick enough yet, he could stil see the others. For this to work properly, soon we would see the Host but they wouldn’t see us.

At least Montmartre’s advance on Solange had been delayed, not just by the strange mist, but also by the
Hel-Blar
, maddened by his scent. Logan was tiring but he refused to give in. I knew he’d protect me until he was dust. I had no intention of letting that happen. I had to get back into my body, and soon.

But first I needed to create just a little more mist. The light cord linking my spirit to myself dimmed and I knew the longer I stayed incorporeal and using this much magical energy, the more I risked being stranded like this forever. I added just a little more mist and was talking myself into making a little more when I noticed the glitter of fireflies between the branches and al around us.

Not fireflies.

Hounds.

To my spirit-sight they came through the trees like sparks of light, like firecrackers exploding.

But it was too early to celebrate.

Because from the other direction, I could see the red-tinged sparks that were Greyhaven’s men’s auras, also closing in. I couldn’t separate magical vision from ordinary vision in this state. Auras shifted and glowed and sparked, like a watercolor wash over a charcoal sketch.

“Incoming!” Liam shouted grimly. “Who the hel are these guys?”

“Greyhaven’s trying a hostile takeover,” Logan shouted.

“What,
now?
”

The Host stil loyal to Montmartre were stunned into pausing, seeing some of their brothers turn to help the newcomers against them. The unexpected coup rattled them.

It was just enough of an advantage for our side. We might not al die horribly after al .

I saw the exact moment when Greyhaven noticed Logan, when he saw my arm hanging limp out of the ferns.

He was faster than I was.

He flung a stake at Logan and caught him just next to his heart. Logan stumbled, pain twisting his pretty face. Blood seeped through his fingers, staining his shirt. He’d be mad about the damage to his clothes later.

If he survived the night.

He’d damn wel better survive, since he’d forced me to.

I flung myself at my body but I was so tired, it was like moving through honey. I didn’t realize I was screaming until Magda looked up.

Greyhaven had reached Logan, who was fumbling with wet fingers for a stake. The one in his chest was stil there, stuck in bone and muscle. Charlemagne growled, lips quivering.

Greyhaven bared his own fangs and reached out, quick as a wasp, to shove at the stake already piercing Logan. He drove it deeper. Logan screamed. Greyhaven backhanded him hard enough to knock him off his feet. Logan shook his head, groaning, and tried to crawl between Greyhaven and my defenseless body.

And I could only hover uselessly, too slow to stop Greyhaven from kil ing me again.

And Logan.

That thought alone was enough to galvanize me into action.

But it was too late. Greyhaven’s sword flashed as he kicked the ferns aside, exposing me completely. Charlemagne sprung but Greyhaven was a blur of tailored suit and sword.

If he hurt my dog I’d find a way to kil him twice.

Magda was faster than al of us.

Her sword blocked Greyhaven’s just as it cut through a lacy frond, skimming the chain mail over my heart.

“She’s my kil ,” Greyhaven spat.

“Go to hel .”

Her eyes met mine as I floated above them. And then she drove her sword through Greyhaven’s heart, twisted, and stepped back.

stepped back.

Greyhaven had time to look surprised and then he broke apart into ashes. One of his men howled.

Logan crawled to my side, yanking the stake out of his flesh with a savage curse.

The Hounds descended at the same time and at some signal from Finn, they fel into formation, dispatching Host and
Hel-Blar
, and Greyhaven’s men, al stumbling blindly in the mist. The Host had the added difficulty of fighting their own turncoat brothers. I tried to pul some of the mist away from the Hounds and the Drakes but I was too weak.

“Retreat!” Liam shouted at his family. “That’s an order!” Montmartre flung orders but his Host were too far away to help him. He bumped into Helena, mostly by chance, just as she was drawing her arm back to stake a
Hel-Blar
. He caught her hand and jerked his other arm around her throat, fangs descending. She was caught by surprise, twisted at a strange angle, half-obscured by mist. Everyone was too busy, too wounded, or too far to help her.