Home > Blood Prophecy (Drake Chronicles #6)(14)

Blood Prophecy (Drake Chronicles #6)(14)
Author: Alyxandra Harvey

She followed my gaze, lips tightening. Ben winced. “Crap. My mom’s going to kill me.” He backed toward the door, letting in the frigid wind. “Let’s get out of here.”

Jody opened her mouth. I cut her off. “Yeah, yeah. This isn’t over, I’m not welcome, I’m a blood puppet, and you’re so righteous. That about cover it?” I slammed the door behind her.

“I can’t believe you’re walking around a vampire hunter school with bite marks,” Jenna said, sounding both awed and disgusted. She crouched to help me pick up the books.

I pulled my sweater on, grimacing at the bruises already throbbing on my arm. “It’s complicated.”

“Not really,” Jenna disagreed, standing up. “Was it willing?”

I didn’t blink. “Yes,” I lied. She just shook her head. “Jenna, this is who I am.”

“Well, I just hope you’re right about your friend Solange,” she said quietly. “Because otherwise you have to know everyone here is within their rights to take her out.”

“She’s the victim here.”

“Or she’s the monster,” she returned as we went outside. “And we put down monsters, Lucy, for the good of humans who don’t know any better.” She looked at my arm pointedly. “Even the ones who should know better.”

We didn’t speak the rest of the way to the dorms, because there was really nothing left to say. She was a new friend and I knew we had each other’s backs, but we’d never agree on this particular matter. At least we wanted the same thing: to stop a war.

And Jenna wasn’t wrong.

But she wasn’t right either.

Bile burned in the back of my throat. We might not save Solange in time. And meanwhile she could easily bring down her entire family and decades’ worth of delicate treaties that were the only thing standing between peaceful Violet Hill and a bloodbath. Everyone I loved would fight.

And everyone would die.

Chapter 6


Vampire princess or not, bats are just creepy when they’re flying at your face.

I stumbled back, covering my head as they dipped erratically around me. There were so many of them, the sound of their wings was raspy and loud. I’d controlled more bats than these in the field with Lucy and then again at the camp when the Chandramaa guard had tried to kill Constantine for saving me from the Furies. I wondered briefly how he was doing. And then one of the bats squeaked and got tangled in my hair. Wondering about Constantine and Kieran and my entire family was going to have to wait until later, when there weren’t dozens of rodents freaking out around me.

Because clearly Viola didn’t want me in this room.

Which is why I knew it was exactly where I needed to be.

The bats froze, as if they’d hit an invisible wall between us. I blew hair out of my eyes, just as frozen. I couldn’t stand here forever but if I moved my hand, the bats attacked me again. And the knights were bound to come along again. With my luck lately, it would be sooner rather than later.


They could deal with the bats. I crouched slowly, keeping my arm extended, hand out. Leathery wings flapped harder. I pressed against the rough wooden doorjamb, then twisted and flung my hand out toward the hallway. As if I’d deployed a slingshot of bats, they flung past me, catching strands of my hair, careening into the wall where they crowded together. Once they were out, I pushed the heavy door shut and bolted it.

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting. A room full of dragon eggs or bottles of blood or torture devices, like the dungeon.

Instead the room was full of boxes.

They ranged from small, pewter, circular boxes that could fit into the palm of my hand to a giant hope chest with iron studs. They were piled everywhere, carved from amber and bone, made of beaten gold, oak, and ivory, decorated with enamel, rubies, pearls, and silver inlay. They reached the ceiling, glinting in the light from the torches set into the stone wall. If they toppled, I could be buried forever.

“Okay, this is just not getting any less weird,” I muttered.

I had no idea why they were important or what was in them. It could be blood or coins or dried rosebuds for all I knew. It could be anything.

Only one way to find out.

I was reaching for the nearest one, covered in garnet and peeling gilt paint when the alarm sounded. The clang of a giant metal bell thrummed through the castle.

“Prisoners escaped!” A knight shouted from the ramparts.

I wasn’t sure if they meant the prisoners in the dungeon or me. I didn’t really want to hang around to find out. I had to get out of here, but I couldn’t lose the tiny advantage I’d gained by finding the hidden room full of boxes. So I’d just have to take them with me. Well, maybe not the chest nailed to the floor.

I grabbed the end of an embroidered tapestry and yanked it off the wall. I tied it over one shoulder like a sling and then stuffed as many boxes as I could into it. Men shouted on the ramparts and down in the courtyard. The bell continued to ring, shuddering the metal torch brackets, shaking my heart as if it were also made of iron.

Boxes slipped from my damp palms, bruising my shins and toes. The tapestry pouch got heavier, cutting into my skin. Faceted diamonds, jagged hinges, decorative pewter scrollwork bit into my fingertips, drawing blood. When I had as many boxes as I could possibly carry, I opened the door, peeking through a sliver of the hall that I could see. It was quiet for now, empty.

I couldn’t head back down to the tunnel since the entrance had caved in. I’d have to find another way out. I hurried down the spiral staircase, stopping at every curve to listen for footsteps. There was shouting all around, so it was difficult to pinpoint exact sounds. But I could smell burning lavender from the great hall, where the lady in the fine dress and scarred skin was still flinging embers around.

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