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“How long were you standing there?”

“For a while,” she said. She was sort of looking at me, which also allowed her to covertly watch Arland through the glass door. And despite all the effort she was putting into pretending not to see him, Maud was watching him.

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” Arland told Helen.

Helen stayed on the porch.

“Come on. Or are you scared?”

Helen showed him her teeth.

Arland motioned at her. My niece stayed on the porch.

The door swung open as Maud made the inn move it. She strode out onto the porch.

“Helen, kill,” my sister said.

My niece grabbed a rubber dagger from the rack and moved onto the grass, foot over foot, stalking like a cat. Arland squared his shoulders. The contrast was ridiculous. She was tiny, he was huge; she had a little dagger, and he was holding a massive sword; but the two of them looked at each other with identical expressions on their faces, like two tigers meeting on the border of their territories. Waiting. Measuring the distance with their gaze. Watching for a hint of weakness.

The attack came with blinding speed. Helen dashed forward. Her dagger sliced the front of Arland’s thigh and she scuttled back around him, cutting across his calves. Arland let out a dramatic roar and fell to his knees. Helen leapt up and slit his throat. It was so fast and precise, she must’ve done it dozens of times. I hoped in practice. It had to be in practice.

Arland collapsed on the ground, conveniently rolling onto his back. Helen put her foot on his chest, raised her dagger, and let out a vampire roar.

Should I be horrified or cuted out? I couldn’t decide.

“Good job,” Maud said.

Arland grabbed at Helen’s ankle. She squealed and dashed to the porch.

He sat up, a big grin on his face.

“As you can see, my daughter doesn’t need any instruction from you,” Maud said.

“It wouldn’t hurt.”

No, Arland. No, no.

“Really?” Maud asked.

Arland rolled to his feet. “Your daughter is a vampire.”

“Half.”

He shook his head. “She has the fangs. Humans will see her as a vampire. Vampires will see her as a vampire.”

The look on Maud’s face turned friendly, almost warm. If I were in Arland’s shoes, I’d run now.

“And there is something wrong with the way I train my child with fangs?” Maud casually stepped toward the weapon rack.

Sean entered the kitchen and stood next to me. “What did I miss?”

“My sister is about to destroy Arland.”

On the lawn Arland leaned back. “For a child this young, a challenge issued is a challenge answered.”

Maud pondered the weapons. “What are you implying?”

“A properly trained vampire child wouldn’t have waited for permission to kill,” Arland said.

He just kept digging his own grave.

Sean opened the kitchen door.

“Where are you going?” I whispered.

“I want a front row seat to this.”

I chased him outside and we sat in the chairs.

“She’s too controlled. You say sit, she sits. You say wait, she waits.”

More words, deeper hole.

“She should be guided by instinct. She should be a rassa in the grass. Instead she is a goren on the porch.”

And he just told my sister that her daughter wasn’t a wolf but a trained dog.

I braced myself.

Maud drew a sword from the rack so fast, it looked like the weapon sprang into her hand on its own. She swung it. All pretense of sweetness was gone from her face.

“Perhaps you would care to give me some instruction.”

“If you wish.” Arland picked up a practice mace.

My sister struck. They clashed. One moment Arland was standing and the next he staggered back, shaking his head, the red imprint of the rubber sword blade on the side of his face.

Sean laughed.

Maud lunged into the opening. Arland swung his mace as if it were light as a toothpick and parried her sword, bashing her blade to the right. She drove her left fist into his throat. He spun away from her, choking, but still striking back. She ducked under his swing and rammed the blade of her sword into his armpit.

Sean and I made ouch noises.

Arland roared, his fangs bared.

Maud danced around him, battering his ribs. He knocked her sword blade aside with his left arm and kicked her. My sister flew, rolled in the grass, and came back up from a crouch into a blindingly fast attack.

The sword and mace drummed, clashing. Arland and Maud rampaged across the lawn, beating on each other. Sean and I watched them, wincing when one of them grunted in pain.

Helen sat by my feet, absorbed in the violence of the fight. She was so small and our world had gotten so violent all of a sudden.

“Did you know Draziri taste like chicken?” I asked.

Sean glanced at me, as if not sure if I was okay. “I had no idea.”

“Orro told me,” I told him. “We’re besieged by murderous poultry.”

Sean reached over and took my hand. I let him.

“We’ve got this,” he said. “It will be okay.”

Both my sister and Arland were glistening with sweat. The rubber weapons weren’t designed to cut, but somehow they were both bleeding from a few shallow scrapes. They danced across the lawn back and forth, gaining ground then losing it.

“It won’t be much longer,” Sean said. “They’re getting tired.”


Tags: Ilona Andrews Innkeeper Chronicles Fantasy