“I got that part. Okay, I’m going to do a little scouting around, get the lay a little better. We’ll get the party started when I get back.”

“The trees are thick.” Glenna nodded toward the curve of the forest. “You shouldn’t go too far in, even during the day.”

“Don’t worry.”

Chapter 20

Blair liked the woods. She liked the smell of them, the look of the big-trunked trees, the play of light and shadow that, for her, made a kind of visual music. The forest floor was carpeted with leaves that had fallen over countless years, and the fairy green of moss. The stream that ran glinting through it only added to that fairy-tale quality. It was slender and curvy, making more music with the water singing over rock.

She’d been to Clare before, had wandered field and forest and hill, and wondered how she’d missed this place if it truly was her beginnings. She supposed she hadn’t been meant to find it before, to walk here. To know.

It was now, with these people, in this place.

The witch and the wizard, she mused. They were so full of love, all shiny and new, they all but glistened with it.

Advantage or disadvantage—she’d have to wait and see.

But she knew one thing. She wanted Glenna to make her a fire dagger.

The witch was okay. Great hair, too, and an urban sense of style that showed through even with simple pants and shirts. Lot of smarts going on in there, if Blair was any judge. And she was. She’d gone out of her way to be welcoming, it seemed, the night before. Fixing food, fluffing up the room she’d assigned to Blair.

It was a lot more than she was used to. And it was nice.

The wizard seemed to be on the intense side. Did a lot of watching, didn’t have a lot to say. She could respect that. Just as she could, and did, respect the power he wore like skin.

As for the vampire, she was in a holding pattern there. He would be a formidable ally, or foe—and to date, she’d never considered a vamp any kind of ally. Still, she’d seen something in his face when his brother had spoken of Nola. It had been pain.

The other woman was quiet as a mouse. Watchful, oh yeah, and a little on the soft side yet. She hadn’t made up her mind about Blair any more than Blair had about her.

And the guy? Larkin. Some serious eye-candy. He had a good, athletic build that should make him an asset in a fight. Boiling with energy, too, she thought. The shape-shifting deal could come in handy, if he was any good at it. She’d have to ask for a demo.

It was a lot—they were a lot—to whip into shape in a very short time. She’d have to be up to it if any of them were going to make it out of this alive.

But for now, it was nice to take a morning stroll through the trees, listening to the water sing, watching the light dance.

She skirted around a rock, cocked her head at what was curled sleeping under its shadow.

“This is your morning wake-up call,” she said, and pulled the trigger on the crossbow she carried.

The vampire barely had time to open its eyes.

She retrieved the arrow, set it again.

She took out three more, disturbing another who sprinted off down the path, dodging beams of thin sunlight. Without a clear shot, and unwilling to waste an arrow, she took off after him.

The horse leaped onto the path, a gleaming black beast, with the gilded god on its back. Larkin sliced down with his sword, and beheaded the fleeing vampire.

“Nice job,” she called out.

Through streams of sunlight, Larkin trotted the horse toward her. “What are you doing out here?”

“Killing vampires. You?”

“The horse needed a run. You shouldn’t be out here alone, so far from the house.”

“You are.”

“They couldn’t catch this one.” He patted Vlad on the neck. “He’s the wind. So then, how many have you seen?”

“The four I killed, and yours makes five. There are probably more.”

“Four others, you say? Aren’t you the busy one. Do you want to hunt them now?”

He looked up to it, but she couldn’t be sure. Working with an unknown partner was a good way to die, even if that partner showed a wicked skill with a sword. “That should do it for now. One of them, at least, will run back to Mommy and report we’re taking them out of their nests during the day. Should tick her off.”

“Tick?”

“Annoy her.”

“Ah. Aye, there’s that.”

“Anyway, we need to do some training so I can see what you’re made of.”

“You can see?”

“I’m your new sergeant.” She could see he wasn’t thrilled with that news—and who could blame him? But she held up a hand. “How about a lift, cowboy?”

He reached down, and with a clasp of hands to forearms, she vaulted up behind him.

“How fast will this guy move?” she asked.

“You’d best hold on, and tight.”

A tap of his heels sent the horse flying.

Glenna rubbed her thumb and finger together over the cauldron to add another pinch of sulfur to the mix. “A little at a time,” she said absently to Hoyt. “We don’t want to overdo it and end up—”

She jerked back as the liquid flashed.

“Mind your hair,” Hoyt warned.

She grabbed some pins, bundled it hastily on top of her head. “How’s it coming there?”

Inside the metal trough, the dagger continued to burn. “The fire’s still unstable. We have to tame it or we’ll burn ourselves as well as vampyres.”

“It’s going to work.” She took a sword, slid it into the liquid. Stepping back, she held her hands in the smoke and began her chant.

He stopped what he was doing to watch her, to study the beauty that came into her with the magic. What had his life been before she’d come into it? With no one with whom he could fully share what he was, not even Cian? With no one to look into his eyes in a way that made his heart shine?

Fire licked at the edges of the cauldron, shimmied up the sword, and still she stood, in the smoke and the flame. Her voice like music, her power like dance.

When the flames died, she removed the sword with tongs, set it aside to cure and cool.

“Each has to be done separately. I know it’s going to take time, days, but in the end... what?” she said when she caught him staring at her. “Have I got magic soot all over my face?”