“He’s an animal.”

Beneath her, Larkin broke into a fast trot.

Yes, Blair thought, it was good to laugh, even in the worst of times.

Chapter 12

C ian fingered the rough black material with mild distaste. “A cloak.”

“But it’s a magic cloak.” Glenna tried a winning smile. “With hood.”

Black cloaks and vampires, he thought with an inward sigh. Such a cliche. “And this…thing is supposed to prevent me from going up in flames in direct sunlight.”

“It really should work.”

He sent her a mildly amused look. “Should being the operative word.”

“Your blood didn’t boil when we exposed it,” Hoyt began.

“There’s cheery news. It happens I’m made up of more than blood.”

“Blood’s the key,” Hoyt insisted. “Blood’s the heart of it. You’ve said so yourself.”

“That was before my flesh and bone were on the line.”

“We’re sorry there’s no time to test it.” Glenna pushed a hand through her hair. “It took so long, and until we were reasonably sure, we couldn’t ask you to put it on and step outside.”

“Considerate of you.” He held it up. “Couldn’t you have made it a bit more stylish?”

“Fashion wasn’t our primary concern.” Hoyt didn’t quite snap out the words, but it was close. “Protecting your sorry self was.”

“I’ll be sure to thank you for it if I’m not a pile of inarticulate ash at the end of the day.”

“And so you should.” Moira condemned him with one quiet look. “They worked through the night, and all through this day with only you in mind. And while you’ve slept the rest of us have been working as well.”

“I had work of my own, Your Highness.” He dismissed her simply by turning his back. “Well, it’s unlikely to be an issue as your stone circle rejects my sort.”

“You have to trust in the gods,” Hoyt told him.

“I’m forced to remind you, yet again. Vampire. Vampires and gods aren’t drinking buddies.”

Glenna stepped up to Cian, laid a hand over his. “Wear it. Please.”

“For you, Red.” He tipped her face up, kissed her lightly on the lips. Then he stepped back, swirled it on. “Feel like a bloody B movie extra. Or worse, a sodding monk.”

He didn’t look like a monk, Moira thought. He looked dangerous.

Blair and Larkin came in. “We’re as secure as we’re going to be,” Blair said, then lifted her eyebrows at Cian. “Hey, you look like Zorro.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You know, that scene where he’s in the chapel with the girl, and he’s pretending to be the priest. Only, jeez, the kind of priest we used to call Father What a Waste. Anyway, sun’s down. If we’re going to go, we’d better.”

Hoyt nodded, looked at Cian. “You’ll stay close.”

“Close enough.”

Blair might have wished they’d taken time to practice the maneuver, but it was too late for wishes. No more talk, she thought. No more discussion—and no dress rehearsals. It was now or never.

After a quick nod, a quick breath, she and Larkin went through the door first. Even as he changed, she was leaping up, then reaching a hand down to help Moira vault behind her.

They rode away from the stables at a hard run, with the hope of drawing any that waited in ambush. She barely saw Cian streak out. He was at the stable doors in seconds, releasing the stallion.

Then he was gone again, and Hoyt and Glenna were on Vlad’s back.

With barely a glimmer of moonlight to guide them, a gallop was risky once they reached the trees. Blair kept Larkin to a trot, trusting him to watch the path as she scanned the woods.

“Nothing yet, nothing. If they’re around they’re hanging back.”

“Can you see Cian?” With her bow ready, Moira tried to look everywhere at once. “Sense him?”

“No, there’s nothing.” Blair shifted in the saddle to look over Moira’s shoulder at Hoyt. “Watch the flank. They may come at us from behind.”

They rode in absolute silence, with only the sound of hooves on the path. And that, Blair thought, was a problem. Where were the nightbirds? Where were all the little rustles and peeps of the small animals in a night woods?

Demon hunters, she knew, weren’t the only creatures who could sense vampires.

“Be ready,” Blair said under her breath.

She heard it then, the clash of steel, a sudden scream. She didn’t have to urge Larkin on with words or a nudge of her heels. He was already at a gallop.

She sensed them seconds before they charged out of the trees. Foot soldiers this time, she judged, with some seasoning and wearing light armor. She sliced down with her sword even as Moira’s arrows began to fly.

Hooves struck out, and trampled whatever fell beneath them. But the enemy came from everywhere, blocking the circle, and barring the path to the Dance. Blair kicked out, knocking one back as it clawed at her leg. Too many, she thought. Too many to make a stand.

Better, she thought, better to charge, break the line, and get to the stones.

Then the one that leaped down from a branch above her nearly unseated her, knocking her back as she rammed up an elbow to block it. Moira pitched to the ground. With a cry of rage, Blair smashed back with a fist. She’d nearly jumped down when Cian flew across the path.

He swooped Moira up, all but threw her back on Larkin. “Go!” he shouted. “Go now.”

She charged the line, the flames from her sword cutting a burning path. She could only hope Cian was out of harm’s way as a ball of fire whizzed by her. She felt Larkin vibrate beneath her, and the form of him shift.

Then she was soaring up on the dragon’s back, with his claws raking across the line of vampires, slashing out with his tail as Hoyt and Glenna galloped through the gap.

She could see the stones now. Though clouds covered the moon they glowed like polished silver, shining against the dark. She would have sworn even with the rush of wind, the cries of battle, she heard them singing.

As Hoyt and Glenna flew through them and into the circle, Larkin dived.

She leaped from his back, favoring the leg the vampire had scored. “Get ready,” she ordered.