My Love Lies Bleeding Page 61

Lady Natasha howled, her long pale hair flying behind her like a banner. Her dress was stained with blood. Several of the carved ravens on her throne had broken off. “Montmartre! You love me,” she howled, even as she tried to fight off Helena.

Montmartre’s Host weren’t exactly losing the fight with the Hounds, but they weren’t winning it either. Hunters, vampire rogues, half the royal court under Conan’s direction, and the Drake family all stood against them. Montmartre cursed.

“Fall back,” he ordered. The Host retreated instantly to form a circle around him.

“She will be my queen,” Montmartre promised before flicking his hand. The Host pressed against him and they retreated down one of the tunnels.

Lady Natasha, abandoned on all sides, turned her anger to Helena. Helena twirled a stake until she found a proper grip. The fight stretched on, two determined women with a penchant for ancient weaponry. It was a beautiful dance, in its way, flashing blades and flips through the air. But in the end, Helena’s stake flew true.

Lady Natasha blinked uncomprehendingly and then her empty dress fell in a delicate heap of fine silk, dusted with ash.

The noise and fury in the hall stopped so suddenly, it practically echoed. Even the Araksaka paused.

Each to a one, the vampires dropped to one knee in front of Helena.

In lieu of rightful succession, killing the present monarch granted you the crown.

Nicholas limped up beside me and held on to my hand tightly. I squeezed his fingers, stepping back so that our sides were pressed together, feeling better with his cool skin against mine. Neither of us spoke. We didn’t have to.

On the glass bier, Solange finally gasped once, then swallowed hungrily. When she opened her eyes and saw dozens of kneeling vampires in their best court finery, she groaned weakly, blood smeared on her lips.

“Oh God, I’m not a vampire queen, am I?”

EPILOGUE

Solange

I met Lucy in town. She was determined to force me into a semblance of a normal life, and meeting for coffee every Thursday night was her current plan. She was waiting for me in the park. It hadn’t even been a week since I’d turned, and I wasn’t ready to face the temptation of a coffee house full of human hearts beating all around me. I could ignore the squirrels and the fox hiding in the far bushes.

Lucy was sitting on a bench with two paper cups and a plastic to- go container filled with what was left of a chocolate- covered cherry tart. She wiped crumbs off her hands.

“I’m still celebrating,” she mumbled through a mouthful. “I won’t be able to fit into my clothes if I keep this up.” She eyed me critically. “You’re wearing that?” I frowned at my clay-stained pants. “So? I didn’t know I had to dress up for you.” She eyed me again. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. You’re as bad as my brothers.” I felt better than fine, actually. I felt strong and alert, my eyes amplified every spark of light from the moon, the stars, streetlights. It was a little distracting, I had to admit, to hear her heart beating and smell the warmth of her blood just under her skin. And disconcerting to know my brothers had been right: blood now tasted better than chocolate. In fact, I couldn’t remember much from the night of the caves, just the taste of Kieran in my mouth.

He’d left with his uncle before I could properly thank him.

“Any word from Kieran?” Lucy asked quietly as if she’d known I was thinking about him.

I shook my head, tried not to look like I cared. I had enough to occupy me, after all. My mom was the new queen, which meant the prophecy hadn’t technically been fulfilled. We weren’t sure what to think about that. And we were still replacing an entire wall of the farmhouse, which had been burned out by Hope’s unit. The gardens were full of water and soot. Bruno needed stitches, and Hyacinth wouldn’t leave her room or lift the black lace veil off her face. London disappeared down the tunnels again; no one knew to where. And I’d actually caught Nicholas sending roses to Lucy’s house, and they were on the phone with each other all the time.

And Montmartre was still out there. He’d sent an engagement gift: a diamond ring.

I’d flushed it down the toilet.

So I was too busy to sit around thinking about Kieran Black.

“Oh, here.” Lucy passed me a package tied with ribbon. “A belated birthday present from my dad.” She rolled her eyes when I pulled out a piece of carved deer antler on a leather tong. “When he heard about the deer heart, he said to tell you the deer is clearly your totem animal and should be honored.” I slipped it over my head as she guzzled the rest of her drink. Her eyes watered.

“Ouch, still hot.” She stood up quickly.

I stared at her. “Where are you going? I just got here.” She grinned at me, her gaze flicking toward the sidewalk.

“You have a date.”

I froze.

“Lucy Hamilton, what have you done?”

“Gotta go!” She darted out of the park before I could say anything else. I didn’t have to look to know who it was standing there. I could smell him, taste him.

Kieran.

“Solange,” he said softly. He looked good, even with the bruises on his jaw going yellow and the sling cradling his arm. He didn’t smile, but the way he was looking at me made me feel warm all over. I stood up.

“Kieran.” I didn’t know what else to say.

So I leaned over and kissed him.

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