A Tithe of Blood and Ashes (The Drake Chronicles Book 7) by Alyxandra Harvey Page A

undead thing,” I muttered. I rubbed the side of my finger on the bolt tip until it sliced through. A drop of blood burned, dripping down onto my knuckle. I flicked it into the snow and took aim again.
    The Hel-Blar froze as his head snapped up, smelling the fresh blood. He clacked his jaws again, like ice breaking off a branch. He launched himself at us with unnatural speed. The way they moved always sent a shiver down the back of my neck: it was pure monster, graceful but hulking, and all predator. I released the bolt. It cut through the snow and slammed into his chest. He gurgled and turned to thick, putrid ashes. Dad finally stepped on the brake.
    I ducked back into the truck, grinning. “Got him.”
    Dad’s hands were tight worried fists around the steering wheel. “Wouldn’t you rather go to art school? You could learn macramé.”
    I fished a small red flag out of my coat pocket and slid out the door. “I’ll be right back.”
    “Where are you going?” he called after me. “You’re grounded! Detention! Something!”
    I poked my head back inside. “Dad, I’m just going to leave a marker. The Helios-Ra are trying to keep track of where the Hel-Blar are showing up so we can trace back to their nests. I’ll be quick.”
    I jogged to the pile of ashes, already covered in snow. That was something else the Helios-Ra had taught me: jogging. And it was way scarier than staking feral vampires. I crossed the road, trudging to the bare tangled bushes on the edge of the woods. I sank up to my ankles as the snow whirled around me, sticking to my eyelashes. I tied the red flag to a branch.
    Something moved in the woods, graceful and strangely regal. I could barely see what it was but I reached for a stake, just in case. I’d had my fill of regal. It never ended well.
    I squinted through the snow. A woman trailed a long cloak the colour of stone. Her hair fell past her elbows and was the same shade of grey. Her skin was pale blue, like the rare Na-Faoir vampires who’d claimed my cousin Christabel. This wasn’t a vampire though, it was something else. It felt ancient, mysterious. Snow whirled in eddies around her.
    I blinked and she vanished. I pushed through the snow but she hadn’t left any footprints, nothing at all to prove some weird old woman was frolicking through a snowstorm in the darkest part of the night.
    The wind shook the branches, dumping more snow on my head. It also, unfortunately, carried the stench of a second Hel-Blar away from me. So when he roared out of the bushes, I very helpfully screeched in surprise. The snow drift caught at my boots and I fell. I hit a tree, the trunk scraping my face. Branches slapped at me, adding insult to injury. Instinct kicked in and I threw a stake before I’d even sat up properly. I missed the Hel-Blar but at least I distracted it long enough to stop it from eating my face.
    For now.
    If I survived this, I deserved to fail my exam. I knew better than to let my guard down like that, snowstorm or not. At least I had more stakes in each of my pockets and a slender dagger in my boot. It was long enough to double as a short sword. I scrambled backward, reaching for it. Dad yelled something from the truck. The Hel-Blar ground his teeth, saliva dripping into the snow. Adrenaline, disgust and fear brewed a toxic soup in my belly as I pushed into a crouch. The cut I’d made on my finger earlier began to bleed again.
    The Hel-Blar leapt.
    A chunk of ice caught him right in the face. It would have been funny at any other time, Dad resorting to a snowball fight. The Hel-Blar hissed, clawing at his eyes. It gave me just enough time to leap up and push my sword between its ribs. It was harder than it looked. I had to lean back away from its teeth and claws and then dart back it, kicking at the pommel. The blade finally sliced through his grey, dead heart and he collapsed into ashes and dust.
    Three more Hel-Blar shuffled out of the forest, clacking teeth and feral stench. From