“Some actually.” He couldn’t recall anyone ever asking him. His temper cooled as quickly as it had flared. “But it’s fun, so I don’t mind so much.”
He slung his arm around Moira’s shoulder, gave her arm a little rub as he spoke to Hoyt and Glenna. “Your girl here took out four of them in the forest. I took a fifth myself.”
“This morning? Five?” Glenna stared at Blair. “How close to the house?”
“Close enough.” Blair glanced toward the woods. “Lookouts, I figure, and not very good ones. Caught them napping. Lilith’s going to get word of it. She’s going to be unhappy.”
It wasn’t a matter of killing the messenger; not in Lilith’s long-standing opinion. It was a matter of killing it as painfully as possible.
The young vampire who’d foolishly gone back to the nest after Blair’s morning foray was now on a slow roast, belly-down, over a simmering fire. The smell wasn’t particularly pleasant, but Lilith understood command required certain sacrifices.
She circled him now, careful to keep the hem of her red gown away from the lick of flames. “Why don’t we go over this again?” Her voice was melodious, somewhat like a devoted teacher speaking to a favored student. “The human—female—destroyed everyone I’d posted, save you.”
“The man.” Pain turned the words to guttural rasps. “The horse.”
“Yes, yes. I keep forgetting the man and the horse.” She stopped to study the rings she wore. “The one who came along after she’d already cut down—what was it now—four of you?”
She crouched down, a spider of stunning beauty, to stare into his red, wheeling eyes. “And she was able to do this because? Wait, wait, I remember. Because you were sleeping?”
“They were. The others. I was at post, Majesty. I swear it.”
“At post, and yet, this single female human lives. Lives because—do I have this detail correct? Because you ran?”
“Came back…to report.” Its sweat dripped into the fire, and sizzled. “The others, they ran away. They ran. I came to you.”
“So you did.” She tapped him playfully on the nose with each word, then rose. “I suppose I should reward your loyalty.”
“Mercy. Majesty, mercy.”
She turned around with a silky rustle of skirts to smile at the boy who sat cross-legged on the floor of the cave, systematically ripping the heads off a pile of Star Wars action figures.
“Davey, if you break all your toys, what will you have to play with?”
His lips moved to pout as he beheaded Anikin Skywalker. “They’re boring.”
“Yes, I know.” She ran a loving hand over his sunny hair. “And you’ve been cooped up too long, haven’t you?”
“Can we go outside now?” He bounced, and his eyes went round and wide at the prospect of a promised treat. “Can we go outside and play? Please!”
“Not quite yet. Now don’t sulk.” She tipped his chin up to peck a kiss on his lips. “What if your face froze like that? Here now, my sweet boy, what if I gave you a brand-new toy?”
Round cheeks bright with temper, he snapped Han Solo in two. “I’m tired of toys.”
“But this will be a new one. Something you’ve never had before.” She turned her head, and with her finger still on his chin, turned his until they both looked at the vampire over the fire pit.
And on the spit, seeing their eyes, it began to struggle and thrash. And weep.
“For me?” Davey said brightly.
“All for you, my own dumpling. But you must promise Mama not to get too close to the fire. I don’t want you burned, my precious one.” She kissed his little fingers before she rose.
“Majesty, I beg you! Majesty, I came back to you.”
“I dislike failure. Be a good boy, Davey. Oh, and don’t spoil your dinner.” She gestured to Lora, who stood quietly by the door.
The screams began before it was closed behind them. And locked.
“The Hunter,” Lora began. “It had to be. None of the other women have the skill to—”