“I just couldn’t let London die for nothing, and then have it happen all over again the next time some old woman gets stoned on weird mushroom tea.” I rubbed my face wearily. “But do you think it will work?” I asked, doubtfully. “We’re not exactly known for our laid-back nature. I mean, Aunt Hyacinth is still holding a grudge against that boy who waved a pistol at Queen Victoria’s carriage. And that was in 1872.”
“It’s worth a try,” he replied. “Some of the vampires have already packed up and left in a snit. But just as many are making toasts to a new era.”
“I can see that.” I watched one vampire lean drunkenly on another. While we’d been talking and talking and talking, everyone else had been drinking. We turned and wandered down the path. A group of vampires gathered outside one of the tents, whispering and staring.
“One thing hasn’t changed,” I muttered. “I’m going to start my own circus and be the main attraction.” I glanced at Nicholas. “Want to get out of here for a while?” I’d never been comfortable in crowds and whatever Nicholas had been through on Dawn’s orders had made him nearly as solitary as Duncan. I wanted to kill her all over again. My fangs poked into my lower lip drawing blood. One of the vampires by the tent pointed at me.
Nicholas just raised his eyebrows. “You’re so hungry you’re trying to eat your own face?”
I elbowed him. “Some people are scared of me, you know. Like that guy over there.” The guy in question paled when I looked his way and tried to hide behind a banner half his size.
Nicholas snorted. “Ten points if you can make him hide behind that creepy little girl over there.” It was such normal banter, tears sprung to my eyes. Nicholas was instantly horrified. “What? What’d I do?”
“You should hate me.” I sniffled. “I made you drink from Lucy. I’m so sorry, Nic.”
“Lucy called me a drama queen when I was sorry about that too.”
I choked out a laugh. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.” He quirked a smile. “So stop being so soggy.”
I swallowed. “Brothers are so sentimental.” My smile was watery. And actually, they totally were. They just thought no one knew it.
“So where are we going?” he asked as the snow began to fall very softly around us, so softly it was barely there at all.
“I don’t know,” I admitted as we passed between the trees and cut through the field of dirt bikes. “Just random hunting, I guess. No speech in the world is going to avert hunter-vampire war if we don’t stop these killings. So you know, clear my name, stop some murders, avenge my brother. The usual.”
Nicholas stopped me with a hand on my arm. His face was serious, gray eyes so pale they were like frozen moonlight. “Don’t go avenging me, Sol. I’m not dead.”
“They tortured you.”
“I mean it, Sol. This has to stop somewhere. You said so yourself.”
I shrugged out of his grasp. “You could have died. You nearly did.”
“So did you,” he reminded me lightly. “Quinn would say the reason everyone’s always trying to kill us Drakes is because we’re so pretty.” He passed me a stake. “Now are we going to hunt, or what?”
I refused the stake, showing him the tranquilizer gun I’d gotten off Uncle Geoffrey before leaving the farm. “Let’s try something new.”
“Okay, but I’m not having a chat with a rabid Hel-Blar.”
“Agreed.”
Walking through the quiet forest was soothing. The silhouettes of the trees gleamed with ice, the leaves and twigs underfoot bristled with frost. There were rabbit prints and gouges on a tree from where a deer had rubbed its antlers. When we crossed the river, it looked as if it were filled with bits of broken mirrors. We found traces of old blood and footprints, but nothing terribly useful. We wandered aimlessly until I led us to the place I felt safe, without even realizing it. The tree where Kieran and I had slipped underground into the tunnels to escape Hope’s rogue Helios-Ra unit. We’d spent the day in a safe house and he’d stayed with me, watching over me when I was at my weakest.
The tree was just as mossy, spreading out its branches in a wide circle, dripping delicate and deadly icicles. The points looked as sharp as stakes. The roots made a complicated nest, like the Celtic knot work patterns on some of Bruno’s tattoos. Nicholas searched the path for strange scents or any other kind of clues, just as we’d been doing all night. I couldn’t help myself, I crouched down to slide my hands in the tiny caves the roots created. I felt around for some kind of note or letter, just as he’d mentioned that night on his front porch. It felt like a lifetime ago.
I reached deeper into the roots. The wind rattled the frosted branches overhead, icicles tinkling like wind chimes. I smelled snow and pine and cold. I touched dirt, stones, a startled beetle. Nothing else.
It was empty.
Disappointment was a palpable burn in my belly. I sat back on my heels and chided myself for being an idiot. What had I been expecting? A love letter? Of course Kieran hadn’t left me a message. I’d bitten him on the neck and drunk his blood. I’d kissed Constantine. I’d generally behaved like an ass.
And Lucy wondered why I was too embarrassed to phone him.
I pushed to my feet, swallowing hard against the lump growing in my throat. Ex-vampire queens probably shouldn’t cry over their ex-boyfriend’s perfectly reasonable decision to have nothing to do with them. A tear slipped through anyway, scalding hot on my cold cheek. I hurried to wipe it off before Nicholas could see me. The crack of a twig underfoot and the familiar mixture of mint and cedar had me spinning around. I knew that scent.