Drake Chronicles: 03 Out for Blood (6 page)

I went straight into the living room, narrowing my eyes at Solange’s back. Her arms were twined around Kieran’s neck. His hands were a little too clever.

“Black, don’t make me kil you,” I told him pleasantly. He jumped and pul ed back, his ears going red. Solange sighed.

“Thanks, Quinn,” she said. “Way to ruin the moment.”

“I try,” I said, unrepentant.

“Someday, I’l actual y get to kiss you without one of my nosy annoying brothers barging in,” she whispered to Kieran.

“Don’t count on it,” Logan said as he and Isabeau fol owed me. Kieran’s phone rang inside his jacket. He looked relieved to answer it.

“You kiss girls al the time,” Solange pointed out to me. Lately the only girl Logan kissed was Isabeau.

“Flattery wil get you nowhere.” I made myself more comfortable.

“You’re not going away, are you?”

“Nope.”

Solange folded her arms. “Lucy and Nicholas are making out in the solarium. Go bug them.”

“But I like bugging
you
.”

“
Quinn.
”

“Solange, look at your eyes,” I said softly, too softly for Kieran to hear me. She frowned, then glanced into the art nouveau mirror on one of the shelves. A bronze woman in a flowing dress held up the reflection of Solange’s pupils, ringed in red.

The dark pupils al but swal owed up her usual y blue irises. She froze, shooting me a horrified look. Her fingers trembled slightly when she reached up to touch the tips of her fangs. They were completely extended, in ful hunger mode.

She tilted her head down and stepped into the shadows.

“I have to go,” she told Kieran abruptly, and then bolted upstairs before he could answer. He flicked his phone off and frowned at me.

“Is she okay?”

“She’l be fine.” She just needed more blood and less human temptation. The hunger wasn’t easily explained, or easily control ed. Kieran would know that as a vampire hunter. But as her boyfriend, I wasn’t sure how much he real y got it. He took a step, as if he was about to fol ow her. “Just leave her be,” I advised him quietly as Isabeau moved up the stairs, light as smoke.

He didn’t look convinced but he nodded once. “I have to go anyway. Duty cal s.”

“Yeah? Who are we staking?” There was only a faint sarcastic edge to my voice.

He was a vampire hunter, after al . And I was a vampire.

“
Hel-Blar
,” he replied, heading toward the front door. “Got an al -cal alarm.

They’re getting a little too close to town tonight.”

“Yeah?” I grabbed my coat, even though I rarely felt the cold. I had stakes and various supplies in the inside pocket. There was a dagger strapped around my ankle, under the ragged bottom of my jeans. “Sounds like fun,” I said, showing my fangs. “Let’s go.”

•

We were in the woods when the smel hit: mushrooms and mildew and wet, ancient decay.

Hel-Blar
.

“Incoming,” I warned Kieran. He flipped a UV gun out of its hidden holster. I fil ed my hands with stakes, nostrils flaring as I tried to pinpoint which direction the stench was coming from. It was so thick and gag-inducing that it seemed to be everywhere. Kieran slipped on a pair of nose plugs. I knew what that meant and it had nothing to do with the miasma of rotting mushrooms and stagnant pond water.

“If you hit me with any of that Hypnos, I real y wil kil you,” I said darkly.

He didn’t have time to answer.

We were surrounded.

I didn’t know what they looked like to Kieran’s human eyes, but to me, even in the dark, they were bruise-blue and gangrene-black and utterly unnatural. Their teeth were al fangs, al contagious saliva, al feral, savage hunger. They even fed off other vampires, which no other vamp did. It wasn’t nutritious like straight human or animal blood. It was about the kil , not the feeding.

And it was just rude.

I staked the first one after he swung down from a tree and knocked Kieran off his feet. He howled, jarring his wounded arm. The
Hel-Blar
burst into a cloud of blue-tinged dust that made us both gag. Kieran rol ed to his feet. I was already leaping for another
Hel-Blar
.

There were four more that I could see, or hear, scuttling through the undergrowth.

There was a pop from Kieran’s gun and the bul et capsule of UV-injected water dug into a
Hel-Blar
chest and exploded. He screamed, smoked as if there was fire burning him from the inside out, and then he disintegrated.

I ducked a stake, then a fist. I kicked my boot into a chin, threw a stake with hard-won accuracy. We trained for years to be able to do that. I was grinning as I came out of a lightning spin. I was covered in ashes—I even had to shake them out of my hair. And the air stank, positively putrid with rot.

But at least this was simple.

I knew who the bad guys were and I knew how to dispatch them. It wasn’t politics or assassination attempts or abductions.

In short, it was the best night I’d had al bloody month.

The fight was short and brutal. One of them got away but since neither Kieran nor I were bitten or dead, I counted it a success.

Kieran cradled his injured arm gingerly. “Bastard nearly broke it again,” he said.

“Bastard’s under your boots now,” I told him cheerful y. I’d learned long ago you had to block out the rush of regrets that fol owed the adrenaline dip after a fight.

Otherwise the loop of thoughts could pul you under. Did you just kil someone? Or was it a monster, plain and simple? Did that make you a monster? Was it murder if you were defending yourself? Was it a war and were we just soldiers trying to survive?

I preferred the adrenaline rush.

Kieran frowned, looking around. Then he checked the GPS on his phone. “We’re near the school.”

“Yeah?” I was grateful for the distraction. “I don’t suppose they wear uniforms?

Mini kilts? Knee-high socks?”

Kieran half smiled. “Is that al you think about?”

“If I’m lucky,” I answered grimly as we started to walk. The wind off the mountains was cold and fresh, cleaning out the stench of
Hel-Blar
from my nostrils. I inhaled deeply. I didn’t breathe exactly. My body didn’t require it, but it was an ingrained habit. And inhaling helped us recognize and catalog scents. I stil wasn’t sure how the whole vampirism thing worked. Uncle Geoffrey cal ed it biology, Isabeau cal ed it magic. I just knew I was faster, stronger, and virtual y immortal.

It didn’t suck.

Wel , so to speak.

Just around the time I could smel the warmth of many human bodies gathered in close quarters, I smel ed something else.

The first was seductive and actual y made my stomach growl, the way humans might feel after smel ing a gril ed cheese sandwich. The second made my head spin.

Blood.

So much blood, my fangs elongated past their usual battle-length. My gums ached.

My throat ached. My veins ached. Hunger slid through me, weakening me like poison. And there was only one antidote.

Blood.

Kieran grimaced. “Do you smel that?”

I nodded and tried not to drool on myself. I had to clear my throat before I could speak properly. “Animal,” I said. “And … something else.”

“What, like hunters?”

I tracked the aroma, licking my lips only slightly.

Then we saw them.

“Not exactly,” I said, hunger fading. The bloodlust stil had my nostrils twitching but I wasn’t thinking about a liquid supper anymore.

Animals hung from the trees and lay in a pool of clotting blood on the edge of the woods, their scent leaking into the field. There were three rabbits, a badger, two raccoons, and a smal heap of mice.

“What the hel ?” Kieran asked, disgusted and confused. “Who did this? And why?

They’re not drained.”

“Not a vampire then,” I said through my clenched teeth. “We don’t waste blood.” Because you never knew when your next meal might be. “Give me those nose plugs.”

He handed a pair over. I shoved them in and waited for the red haze to stop licking at my every sense.

“Whoever did that added human blood to the mix.” The lights of the school were gold, glimmering like honey. “Which means there’l be more
Hel-Blar
around here before you know it.”

Kieran went pale, paler than any vampire.

“I have to check on Hunter,” he said, breaking into a run.

I didn’t want to admit how cold I got, or how fast I fol owed him, until the trees were a blur of green around me and I left him behind altogether.

Chapter 7

•

Hunter

Jenna found me after dinner. I was crossing the lawn, wondering where Chloe was.

She hadn’t been in the dining room and she was already up and out by the time I woke up. She’d also been awake way later than me, tapping away at her computers. She was determined to break the school Web codes that control ed schedules, private files, and surveil ance cameras. The latter might be useful actual y. But she also wanted to be a martial arts expert, crack shot sniper, and kickboxing queen.

“Wild! Hey, Wild!”

I turned to see Jenna jogging my way, cutting across the grass from the track field. Her red hair was bright as ever, as if she were about to catch fire. We’d been friends since crossbow practice in tenth grade.

“Hey,” I said. “Have a good summer?”

“Yeah, pretty good.” She grinned at me. “Heard you got busted already.”

“York.” York liked her though, so she didn’t have the same issues I had.

“And you snuck out,” she continued. “I’m so proud.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” I wondered out loud.

“Because you’re unfairly gorgeous, blond, smart, athletic, and a straight-A student.” She grimaced. “Wait. Why am I friends with you again?”

“Give me a break,” I said, then smirked. “And by the way, al my demerits were wiped.” I couldn’t help but gloat just a little even if I couldn’t elaborate that Hart himself had cal ed the headmistress to absolve me. “York was speechless for ful y three whole minutes and then he looked like he’d bitten into a rotten egg.”

“Man, I wish I could have seen that.” York might treat her wel , but she was stil a loyal friend and didn’t like the way he singled me out al the time.

“It was pretty sweet,” I admitted. “I should have taken a picture.” I had a miniature camera located in the school pin on my shirt. Al graduating students had them.

Actual y, even Niners had them, but they were expected to acquire them on their own, usual y through outright theft. I guess it wasn’t technical y theft since the teachers hid them around. In our last year they handed us the newest and highest-quality cameras in our orientation packets.

“Speaking of your hotness and athleticism,” Jenna said.

I paused, raised my eyebrows. “What, already?”

“Come on,” she nudged me, the freckles on her nose and cheeks incongruous against the bloodthirsty gleam in her eye. “You can’t tel me you haven’t missed it.” I shrugged. “Maybe a little. But why am I always the bait?”

“Because of al those disgusting good qualities of yours I just listed.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s true,” she insisted.

“Please,
you
could be the bait.” She was just as good a combat student as I was.

“And deny you the chance to wear something pretty?” I couldn’t deny it was an incentive. Grandpa encouraged civilian clothes only for practical, don’t-be-obvious reasons, and he didn’t exactly endorse cute dresses and strappy sandals. And I was better at hand-to-hand combat. Jenna’s expertise was her aim, both with a crossbow and a handgun. We didn’t use regular bul ets, of course, since they didn’t do much against a vampire. We used bul et-shaped vials of what we cal ed holy water, basical y UV-infused bul ets.

“When?” I asked, giving in just like she knew I would.

“Saturday night, meet at the van at eleven.”

“Wait,” I stopped her before she could jog away. It was vaguely inhuman how much she loved to jog. “Did you clear it? York’s just dying for an excuse to bust me again.”

“Yeah, I got Dailey’s signature.” She waved and picked up her pace, heading back to the track. I continued across the lawns to the dorms. Hart might have gotten me out of detention and demerits, but there was one thing he couldn’t save me from.

Floor monitor duties. And being Courtney’s assistant.

I think I preferred demerits.

I couldn’t put it off any longer. Wel , just a little bit longer but only because I wanted to swing by my room and grab an elastic band. It was so muggy and hot, my hair was sticking to the back of my neck.

When I opened the door, a rubber bal ful of pink glitter hurtled toward my head.

I ducked and it missed my nose, but not by much.

“What the hel , Chloe?” I said just as she yel ed, “Get the hel out!” She looked up from her computer, paused. “Oops. Didn’t know it was you.”

“Who else would it be?” I kicked the bal back inside. It rol ed toward her, bumping against her foot. I grabbed an elastic band from my desk and tied my hair back.

“Your little Niners have been coming by al morning,” she said grimly.

I winced. “Seriously?”

“Yes.” She speared me with a look. “It’s annoying. I didn’t like Niners when I
was
one. They’re either needy or macho or both.”

“I’l fix it,” I promised, holding up a hand to curtail a long rant. She had that look on her face. She got her temper from her father, who was one of those temperamental chefs who threw pasta and entire chickens when a meal didn’t go as planned. His assistants quit on a regular basis. I’d seen grizzly old vampire hunters with fewer battle scars.

“I’m staking the next pimply faced thirteen-year-old who knocks on that door,” she told me.

“I’l go right now,” I said. “Have another vitamin.”

“Ha-ha,” she grumbled, turning her attention back to her keyboard. I hurried out before she remembered I was there. Spencer was coming out of the smal kitchen, a cup of coffee in his hand. He wore a chunk of turquoise on a braided hemp necklace.

“Did she throw stuff at you?” he asked, nodding toward my door.