“I haven’t drunk human blood for a very long time.” Cian reached over, trailed a fingertip down the nape of Glenna’s neck. “This one, I’d think, would be heady.”

King licked his lips. “We can share her.”

“Yes, why not?” He tightened his grip on Glenna, and when she fought, when she sucked in her breath, he laughed. “Oh aye, scream for help. Bring the others on down to save you. It’ll save us the trip up.”

“Rot in hell. I’m sorry for what happened to you,” she said to King as he moved toward her. “Sorry for any part I played in it. But I won’t make it easy for you.”

She used Cian as a brace, swung up her legs and kicked out. She knocked King back a few steps, but he only laughed and moved toward her again.

“They let them run in the caves. So we can chase them. I like when they run. When they scream.”

“I won’t scream.” She rammed back with her elbows, kicked out again.

She heard the rush of footsteps, and thought only, No! So screamed after all as she kicked and struggled.

“The cross. I can’t get past the f**king cross. Knock her out!” King demanded. “Get it off her. I’m hungry!”

“I’ll fix it.” He tossed Glenna aside as the others rushed into the room.

And looking into King’s eyes, drove the stake he’d had at his back into his friend’s heart.

“It’s all I could do for you,” he told him, and tossed the stake aside.

“King. Not King.” Moira dropped to her knees beside the dust. Then she laid her hands on it, spoke in a voice choked with tears. “Let what he was, the soul of him and the heart, be welcomed in a world again. The demon that took him is dead. Let him have light to find his way back.”

“You won’t raise a man from a pile of ash.”

She looked up at Cian. “No, but maybe free his soul so it can be reborn. You didn’t kill your friend, Cian.”

“No. Lilith did.”

“I thought... ” Glenna still shook as Hoyt helped her to her feet.

“I know what you thought. Why shouldn’t you?”

“Because I should have trusted you. I’ve said we aren’t a unit, but I didn’t understand I’m as much to blame for that as any. I didn’t trust you. I thought you’d kill me, but you chose to save me.”

“You’re wrong. I chose to save him.”

“Cian.” She stepped toward him. “I caused this. I can’t—”

“You didn’t, no. You didn’t kill him, you didn’t change him. Lilith did. And sent him here to die once more. He was new, and not yet used to his skin. Injured as well. He couldn’t have taken all of us, and she knew it.”

“She knew what you would do.” Hoyt moved to his brother’s side, laid a hand on his shoulder. “And what it would cost you.”

“In her way, she couldn’t lose. So she’d think. I don’t kill him, he takes at least one of you—maybe the lot if I turn. If I go the other way, destroy him, it costs me... oh quite a bit, quite a lot indeed.”

“The death of a friend,” Larkin began, “is a hard death. We all feel it.”

“I believe you do.” He looked down to where Moira still knelt on the floor. “But it comes to me first because he was mine first. She did this to him not because of you,” he said to Glenna. “But because of me. I could’ve blamed you, and did, if she’d just killed him. Clean. But for this, it’s not yours. It’s hers and it’s mine.”

He walked over to pick up the stake he used, studied the killing point. “And when it comes time, when we face her, she’s mine. If any of you step up to do the killing blow, I’ll stop you. So you see, she miscalculated. I owe her for this, and I’ll give her death for it.”

Now, he picked up the sword. “We train tonight.”

She trained, going one-on-one with Larkin, sword to sword. Cian had paired Moira with Hoyt, and stood back, or moved around them as steel clashed. He called out insults, which Glenna assumed was his style of motivation.

Her arm ached, and her still tender ribs throbbed. While sweat dribbled down her back, into her eyes, she continued to push. The pain, the effort, helped block out the image of King in the kitchen, moving toward her with fangs ready.

“Keep your arm up,” Cian shouted at her. “If you can’t hold a shagging sword properly you won’t last five minutes. And stop dancing with her, for Christ’s sake, Larkin. This isn’t a bloody nightclub.”

“She isn’t fully healed,” Larkin snapped back. “And what the hell’s a nightclub?”

“I need to stop.” Moira lowered her sword, wiped her sweaty brow with the back of her free hand. “Rest for a moment.”

“You don’t.” Cian spun toward her. “Do you think you’re doing her a favor, asking to rest? Do you think they’ll be agreeable to a bloody time out just because your pal here needs to catch her breath?”

“I’m fine. There’s no need to snap at her.” Glenna struggled to catch her breath, to will some strength back into her legs. “I’m fine. Stop holding back,” she told Larkin. “I don’t need to be coddled.”

“She needs to be looked at.” Hoyt gestured Larkin back. “It’s too soon for her to train like this.”

“That isn’t for you to say,” Cian pointed out.

“I am saying it. She’s exhausted, and she’s in pain. And that’s enough.”

“I said I’m fine, and can speak for myself. Which, though he enjoys being a bastard, is what your brother pointed out. I don’t need or want you to speak for me.”

“Then you’ll have to grow accustomed to it, because so I will when you need it.”

“I know what I need and when I need it.”

“Maybe the two of you will just talk the enemy to death,” Cian said dryly.

Out of patience, Glenna thrust at Cian with her sword. “Come on. Come on then, you and me. You won’t hold back.”

“No.” He tapped his blade to hers. “I won’t.”

“I said enough.” Hoyt slashed his sword between them, and his fury sent a ripple of fire down the steel.

“Which one of us would you like to take on?” Now Cian’s tone was like silk. And his eyes darkened with a dangerous pleasure when Hoyt pivoted toward him.