“Nicholas!” I ordered the sparks, hearing the deep velvet of his voice, his dry laugh, the sweet way he had of saying my name when we said good night. A few of the sparks stayed where they were, the rest continued to fly between the trees. They led us to the mountains, which wasn’t surprising. They fell apart drifting through the stone. Caves glowed briefly, as if candles had been lit inside.

“What does it mean?” I asked Isabeau frantically. “Where is he?”

“In a cave.”

“Which one?”

She looked sad, annoyed. “I don’t know.”

A few trailing sparks found one another, like static. They flared brightly once, burning Nicholas’s face into my eyes. I blinked, the afterimage of him blinking back at me. When they faded, the light had a blue tint, smearing everything with indigo and turquoise and lavender. I blinked. She swore in French. “We must go. Your body is pulling you back.”

“No! Not yet!”

She grabbed my hand again. “Now, Lucy.”

“No!” I struggled. She just spun me around and yanked on the chain of the amulet. It came away in her hand, and I felt myself being sucked back, the trees blurring in the wrong direction, colors smearing into a hundred shades of blue.

I landed in my body, as if I were cliff diving. I gasped loudly, then pushed up, groaning. “Ouch.” The tip of my nose and my cheeks were numb. My left foot was asleep.

Isabeau sat up, smiling triumphantly. I scowled. “Why are you smiling? We didn’t find him!”

“No, but did you see the way sparks flashed briefly into his silhouette? At the end, by the caves?”

“Yeah. So?”

“So,” she explained. “Now we know he’s alive.”

Logan and I both stared at her for a long moment, afraid to believe her.

“He’s alive?” I asked in a small voice. “You’re sure?”

She nodded, touched Logan’s hand. “I’m sure.”

Relief made me giggle through the tears, and if it had a slightly hysteric tinge, no one commented on it. Logan was too busy grinning just as idiotically.

Isabeau just looked at us, calmly, as if we were nuts.

Chapter 26

Solange

Saturday night, 8:00 p.m.

I paced the Bower, wanting to hiss at everyone and everything. We still hadn’t found Nicholas. I was still fighting with my family. I was still fighting with myself, conscious of red-soaked needs I couldn’t articulate.

The others lounged about, drinking from glass bottles and arguing over politics. I didn’t care about politics. But I was beginning to wonder if it was the only way to get things done.

Constantine motioned Penelope and two guys out of the shadows around the outdoor salon. They came willingly, as always. My fangs poked into my lips.

Spencer, who’d been sprawled on a couch, sat up frowning. “Bloodslaves?” he asked.

I just shrugged and looked away.

“Not cool,” he added. He shook his head before he left the clearing.

Marigold reached for a lollipop then followed, tossing me a careless smile. “Sorry, princess, but he’s cuter.”

I just sighed. I felt too big for my body, like it was too crowded inside my head. I wanted blood. I wanted to be left alone. I wanted to march into the Blood Moon camp and demand they all go out and search for my brother.

I can help you do that. I can help you find your brother. But you have to help me first.

I paused, bats dipping out of the treetops.

Nicholas had risked his life again and again for me. I’d damned well do the same for him. Even if I had to take down the entire Chandramaa and Blood Moon encampment to do it.

But there was only one way to do that.

Despite our differences, I felt sure my mother would agree. That made it a little easier.

A little, but not much.

Constantine must have seen something in my expression because he stepped closer. “What is it?”

“Vampires have been going missing. My brother’s missing. Only another vampire could do that, in this place, under our noses, right?”

“Probably. Or at least someone working with one.”

“So, in all likelihood, that same vampire, or vampires, are at the Blood Moon camp right now. They know what’s happened to Nicholas. And they’re getting away with it.”

Constantine smiled slowly and bent to drag his mouth along my neck. I shivered. “What do you propose, princess?”

“A coup.” Something in me stirred, like embers busting into flames. I felt hot all over, burning from the inside. The soft female voice purred like a cat. Yes. When we are queen everything will be better. I promise this.

Constantine laughed, softly, darkly. “Finally.”

“No one gets hurt.”

“I can’t promise that.” He said it gently, but his violet eyes gleamed fiercely.

Your family is weak. They only bring you down, want to make you submit and kneel. We’re better than that.

“My family doesn’t get hurt,” I amended.

“That seems perfectly reasonable,” he agreed. “When?”

“Now.” Before I talked myself out of it. Before word got out. Before Nicholas ran out of time entirely. “It’s the first night of the ceremonies. We go in fast.”

“Then you’ll need blood,” Constantine said.

Yes, more blood.

Who are you? I asked.

Viola.

What are you?

Your friend.