Sleeping Beauty (34 page)

“Any sign of Alex?” she asked as she changed.

“No,” Tristan replied. “Do you think he meant what he said? Do you think he'd betray you to his mother?”

Dressed, she stepped out from behind her screen and was pleased to see that Tristan's back was still turned. “I'm decent,” she said.

He turned and smiled. “More than decent, if you ask me.”

Blushing, she climbed back through her glass coffin into the outer part of the tower room. As he helped her out, the warmth of his hands on her made her feel dizzy, so she stepped out of his arms to clear her head, and remembered he'd asked her a question about Alex.

She cleared her throat. “I'm sure Alex wouldn't turn on me. Not after all this time.” She bit her lip. “He was just upset, don't you think?”

“And jealous of me,” Tristan said. “I'd be hurt, too, if you chose him.”

She felt herself blush and pulled on her hood so she could hide her pink cheeks. She wanted to press Tristan to say more about how he felt, but lacked the courage. If he rejected her again, she couldn't face him every night, and she certainly didn't want to face being alone.

After picking up her weapons, she motioned for Tristan to follow her down the tower stairs and into the main entry hall of the palace.

“How's the night look?” she asked. “Any action yet?” The entered the foyer and she scanned the large, tiled room with its high vaulted ceiling.

“Quiet, so far.” Tristan's eyes looked as if he had a secret. “And I've got a surprise.”

“Really? What?”

He pushed a dark rolling screen aside to reveal a meal—roasted duck, vegetables, gravy, and two goblets of wine—set on a table adorned with candles. “I thought we could have a nice dinner together.”

“A date?” Lucette's heart raced, and she wanted to gobble the word back. Her cheeks burned.

“Sure,” Tristan said. “We can call it a date.”

Relief flooded her and her body started to feel a bit like jelly. Then he pulled out a chair for her, and she felt so grown-up. That thought made her laugh to herself. She was responsible for defending herself, defending her parents, defending her entire kingdom against vampire attacks—how could she
not
feel grown-up?

But she often did feel like a kid, and Tristan treating her this way added another whole dimension to adulthood—one she hoped she was ready for. Without true love, the curse wouldn't break.

He poured her a glass of wine before taking his chair, then held his goblet toward her.

She lifted hers, too, but paused. “We shouldn't drink much wine. What if vampires show up?”

“Lucette”—he made and held eye contact—“just for the few minutes it takes us to enjoy this meal, please, let's pretend there are no vampires and no curse. Let's pretend we have nothing to fear.”

His voice was comforting, so Lucette nodded and took a tiny sip of the wine. As the flavor filled her mouth, she gazed at Tristan for so long that she grew embarrassed and looked down to her food.

“Thank you,” she said as she gestured over the table, “for all this.”

“My pleasure.” He offered her a duck leg. “You deserve a little something normal in your life.”

As he served them, she asked, “What's Judra like? Do you have brothers and sisters? What are your parents like? Before you came here to the academy, where did you go to school?”

He started to laugh.

“Sorry.” Lucette smiled. “I just realized that even with all the time we spent together training, I hardly know anything about you. And since you've been back, it's been all about vampires and stakes—and who's covering which of my parents' bedrooms.”

Tristan reached across the table, but instead of going for a bread roll as she'd assumed he would, he took her hand.

She fought her first instinct to yank her hand back, and instead drew a long, deep breath. The temperature in the room seemed to have risen several degrees, and she hoped her palm wouldn't start to sweat. That would be embarrassing.

Just then, something crashed in the hall.

They sprang to their feet, grabbed their weapons, and slung crossbows and quivers of arrows and stakes on their backs. As they raced up the stairs, they put on their masks and hoods, and kept close to the wall, alert to any movement in the corridor above them.

Working together silently and confidently, they used the hand signals and nods he'd taught her to determine that Tristan would round the corner at the top of the stairs first.

Lucette followed on Tristan's direction, climbing the stairs and stopping in the open corridor above the foyer. The crash of splintering wood came from the right, where her father's bedchamber lay, and the smash of breaking glass came from the direction of her mother's.

Yet again, she had to choose between her parents, but at least she could decide objectively this time. Tristan was closer to her father's room; she was closer to her mother's.

Before he left, Tristan squeezed her arm and sent her a reassuring look through the slit in his mask.

Lucette's heart pinched. What if he were bitten again tonight? What if this were the last time she saw him? They'd never even discussed what he'd want her to do if he did get that fatal third bite. Would he want her to rush him to Sanguinia so vampire surgeons could convert him? Or would he rather die? She had no idea.

Creeping silently, Lucette approached the bend in the hall that led to her mother's bedchamber and peeked around the corner. In front of her mother's door stood a single vampire, but a big one, and he looked crazed. He slashed and banged at the door with his fingers and fists, as if he thought he could claw through the wood. His fingernails, illuminated by a beam of light, were so long and sharp they looked liked claws. He'd gouged deep scratches in the door, and his fingers were bleeding.

Snarling like a mad dog, he dropped his hands, stepped back, and then rammed his shoulder into the door. “Come on, Queenie!” he snarled. “I know you're in there!”

This particular vampire did not appear to be the brightest candle in the castle, but clearly he'd been told where to find the queen's room, and that thought chilled Lucette. These vampires knew so much about
the palace, knew where to find her parents, and she wondered how. But she couldn't believe it was Alex. In spite of his threats, she felt sure he wouldn't side with his evil mother.

Spotting no roses to use as a defense, she took the crossbow off her back, pulled an arrow from her quiver, and then loaded and cocked it. The vampire seemed too unpredictable for her to attack with a stake, or even a rose, if she had one. Better to keep well out of range of those fingernails.

Raising the crossbow, she took aim for the vampire's shoulder, and hoped that if she wounded him, he'd flee. Holding the bow ready, she waited. He pulled away from the door and granted Lucette a clean shot. She fired, and the arrow struck right where she'd aimed.

The vampire screamed a high-pitched screech that had Lucette fighting not to cover her ears. Then he yanked the arrow from his flesh and stared at it, confused about how it had gotten there. He caught a glimpse of Lucette in the shadows, and his confusion turned to anger. With snarling lips, yellow teeth, and sharp fangs, he staggered toward her. No time to load another arrow.

Lucette pulled out a stake and ran toward the vampire. Jumping, she planted her heavy boot into his chest, and the vampire stumbled back.

Roaring in anger, he advanced again. Adrenaline pumped through Lucette as she ducked out of his way, then she spun, jumped onto a table at the side of the corridor, leaped off, and kicked the vampire in the head before landing back on the stone floor.

The vampire clutched the side of his head, but he still wasn't down, and certainly wasn't deterred. Most vampires gave up their quest for blood once they were challenged. Not this one. Baring his fangs, he lunged for her neck. Seeing his fangs up close and personal, she wasn't
confident that the metal-threaded fabric of her neck protector was strong enough to stop them, so she dodged under him and rolled to the other side of the corridor.

Patiently, she waited in a crouch, stake ready. He dove for her again, and Lucette stood up, thrust her stake forward, and drove it into his chest.

The vampire wailed. Pain and anguish took control of his face, and then he fell to the floor. Lucette turned to the wall, confident she'd hit his heart and not wanting to watch him die. Even though this vampire had seemed intent on killing her, killing him didn't feel any better than her first kill.

Trembling and panting, she bent over and tried to force his death from her mind. What she wouldn't give to be back at that romantic dinner with Tristan.

A hand landed on her shoulder and, pulling another stake from her quiver, she spun.

Tristan.
She dove into his arms, but he grabbed her shoulders and shoved her back. “Never turn your back on a vampire until you're sure it's dead!” He glared at her and then went over to the vampire, studied it, and pulled out her stake. “And never leave your stake behind. You might need it later.”

“I killed him,” she said, her voice hard and forceful.

Tristan pulled off his hood and handed her the stake. “Yeah, but that doesn't mean you should ignore proper battle protocols. What if you'd missed its heart? What if another vampire arrived? You can't let your guard down after a kill. I taught you better than that.”

Her cheeks burned under her masked hood and she fumbled to pull it off. “You're not my teacher anymore.” She slammed her hood to
the floor. “I have more experience defending myself against vampires than you do. And how can you be so cold about it? That vampire might have been insane, but he was a living, breathing, thinking creature, just like you and me.”

Tristan's expression hardened. “Your dad's safe, by the way. I killed my vampire, too. No thanks necessary.”

She glared at him. “We don't have to kill them! Not unless there's no other way.”

“Was that your idea or Alex's? Ever think he might have been protecting them?”

“Alex had good reasons for not wanting them dead. I already told you that.”

Tristan shook his head. “Oh, please. Alex's theory is pretty farfetched, don't you think? The queen paying vampires to cross the border, knowing some will be slayed, then using the dead vampire bodies as evidence of human cruelty to incite hatred and gain support for her evil cause? You really believe that?”

“Yes, I do. His mother's crazy. She's been trying to get us into a war with Sanguinia ever since I was born.”

Tristan put his hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off.

“Lucette,” he said, “I don't know why she cursed you, but don't you think it's a pretty strange way to start a war? Why would she go after a baby?”

Lucette took a few long breaths before responding. She had to admit, there were still holes in her understanding of the vampire queen's motives. It didn't seem like one nation going after another. It seemed personal.

But what possible reasons could the vampire queen have for a
personal vendetta? She turned to Tristan.“No matter what her motives are, unnecessary killing is not okay. Until tonight, nearly every vampire I've found gave up the second he was wounded. Some, even as soon as they saw me coming. We do
not
have to kill them!”

“Fine, fine.” Tristan held up his hands. “We'll do it your way. Here's hoping we don't die for your ethics.”

He looked away and sighed. After a moment, his expression softened. “I'm disappointed that our date got interrupted.”

Lucette relaxed as he approached, but then she trembled as the full realization of what had happened sank in. He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her into an embrace. “Hey, it's okay. You did what you had to do.”

She looked into his eyes, grateful that he understood why she was upset. He pressed a kiss onto her forehead and ran a hand over her hair.

“Lucette,” he said, “why don't your parents sleep in the same bedchamber? It would be so much easier to protect them if they were in the same place.”

At that, tears filled her eyes, and she blinked rapidly, trying to push them back in. All the emotion and adrenaline that had built during the battle peaked into a rush of grief. A tear dribbled down each cheek and she lifted her hand to brush them away, but Tristan beat her to it, sweeping away her tears.

The tenderness and intimacy of his gesture washed away her thoughts of the battle. His hands on her face were so gentle. She felt at home and safe, as if she'd spent her entire life in his strong arms.

“Come on,” he said. “Let's get away from this carnage so we can talk.”

She nodded. For the first time in her life, she had someone to confide in. He'd understand about her parents. She just knew he would.