“Oh. Well, he certainly likes to eat.” Glenna looked toward the house. Moira, she imagined, was having her morning session with the books, and Cian would be sleeping. As for Blair, it would take a little time before Glenna learned the newcomer’s routine.

“I think we’ll have lasagna for dinner. Don’t worry.” She patted his hand. “You’ll like it—and it occurs to me that I’m already tending the house, and the family in it. I never thought of myself as particularly domestic. The things you learn. And now.”

She drew her dagger, moving she realized, with complete ease from cookery to weaponry.

The things you learn.

“I worked on this yesterday.”

“On the dagger,” Hoyt prompted.

“On charming the dagger. I thought I should start small, eventually work up to a sword. We talked about doing something about weapons, but with one thing and the other, we haven’t really gotten down to it. Then I thought of this.”

He took it from her, skimmed a finger up the edge. “Charmed in what way?”

“Think fire.” His gaze moved back to hers. “No, literally,” she said as she stepped back a pace. “Think fire. Visualize it, skimming over the blade.”

He turned the dagger in his hand, then shifted to a fighting grip. He imagined fire, pictured it coating the steel. But the blade remained cool.

“Are there words to be said?” he asked her.

“No, you just have to want it, to see it. Try it again.”

He focused, and got nothing.

“All right, maybe it only works for me—for now. I can refine it.” She took it back from him, drew out the image, and pointed the dagger toward the target.

There wasn’t so much as a spurt.

“Damn it, it worked yesterday.” She took a closer look to make certain she hadn’t grabbed the wrong weapon that morning. “This is the right one, I inscribed a pentagram on the hilt. See?”

“Yes, I see it. Perhaps the charm is limited. It wore off.”

“I don’t see how. I should have to break the charm, and I didn’t. I put a lot of time and energy into this, so—”

“What’s going on?” Blair strolled out, one hand tucked in the front pocket of her jeans, the other holding a steaming cup of coffee. There was a knife in a sheath at her hip, and the glimmer of moonstones dangling from her ears. “Knife-throwing practice?”

“No. Good morning.”

She lifted an eyebrow at the irritation in Glenna’s voice. “For some of us anyway. Nice dagger.”

“It’s not working.”

“Let’s see.” Blair snatched it from Glenna, tested the weight. And sipping coffee, threw it toward the target. It stabbed the bull’s-eye. “Works for me.”

“Great, so it’s got a pointy end, and you’ve got excellent aim.” Glenna stomped toward the target, wrenched out the dagger. “What happened to the magic?”

“Search me. It’s a knife, a nice one. It stabs, it hacks, it slices. Does the job. You start counting on magic, you can get sloppy. Then somebody puts that pointy end into you.”

“You have magic in your blood,” Hoyt pointed out to her. “You should have respect for it.”

“Didn’t say otherwise. I’m just more comfortable with sharp implements than voodoo.”

“Voodoo is a different matter entirely,” Glenna snapped. “Just because you can throw a knife doesn’t mean you don’t need what Hoyt and I can give you.”

“No offense—seriously. But I count on myself first. And if you can’t fight with that, you should leave the combat to the ones who can.”

“You think I can’t hit that stupid target?”

Blair sipped more coffee. “I don’t know. Can you?”

Riding on insult, Glenna turned, and with curses running through her head flung the knife.

It hit the outer circle. And burst into flame.

“Excellent.” Blair lowered her coffee. “I mean your aim’s for shit, but the fire show is very cool.” She gestured with the mug. “Probably going to need a new target though.”

“I was pissed off,” Glenna mumbled. “Anger.” She turned her excited face to Hoyt’s. “Adrenaline. We weren’t angry before. I was happy. She pissed me off.”

“Always happy to help.”

“It’s a fine charm, a good weapon.” He laid a hand on Glenna’s shoulder as the target burned. “How long will the flame last?”

“Oh! Wait.” She stepped away, centered herself. Calmed, she put out the fire in her mind. The flame flickered out to smoke.

“It needs work. Obviously, but... ” She went back to the target, gingerly tested the dagger’s hilt. It was warm, but not too hot to touch. “It could give us a real edge.”

“Damn straight,” Blair agreed. “Sorry about the voodoo crack.”

“Accepted.” Glenna sheathed the dagger. “I’m going to ask you for a favor, Blair.”

“Ask away.”

“Hoyt and I need to get to work on this now, but later today... Could you teach me to throw a knife like you do?”

“Maybe not like me.” Blair grinned. “But I can teach you to throw it better than you do, less like you’re shooing pigeons.”

“There’s more,” Hoyt said. “Cian takes charge of the training after sunset.”

“A vampire training humans to kill vampires.” Blair shook her head. “There’s some sort of strange logic in there. Okay, so?”

“We train in the day as well—a few hours. Outside if the sun holds.”

“From what I saw last night, you can use all you can get. And don’t take insult,” Blair added. “I work on it a couple hours a day myself.”

“The one in charge of our daylight training... we lost him. Lilith.”

“Rough. I’m sorry, it’s always rough.”

“I think you’d be the best to lead that training now.”

“Give you guys orders, make you sweat?” Sheer pleasure shone on her face. “Sounds like fun. Just remember you asked when you start to hate me. Where are the others anyway? Daylight shouldn’t be wasted.”

“I imagine Moira’s in the library,” Glenna told her. “Larkin took the horse out a little while ago. Cian—”