He ran as a child runs, limping on his scraped knees. And gaining speed, gaining that eerie grace as he rushed toward the slashing swords.
Dropping her own sword, Moira grabbed up her bow. A moment too late, as Davey leaped onto Cian’s back, struck with fang and fist. If she shot now, the arrow could go through the boy, and into Cian.
A fingersnap. More flashes of time. The boy tumbled through the air, propelled by a savage blow. He knuckled his hands over his burning eyes and cried for his mother.
Again, Lilith called out. “Lucius, the prince! Help the prince.”
His loyalty, his years of service cost him. As Lucius turned his head a fraction toward Lilith, Cian took it with one singing strike of his sword.
Davey scrambled to his feet, wild panic on his face now.
“Take him,” Cian called out as Davey began to run. “Take the shot.”
Now those flashes of time slowed down. Wild screams, wild weeping, echoing through the dragging air. The figure of a child running on bleeding, tired legs.
Lilith, her face alive with fear and horror, standing between the child and Moira, her arms spread in defense or plea.
Moira looked into Lilith’s eyes as her own blurred. Then with a tear in her heart, she blinked them clear, and sent the arrow flying.
The shriek was horribly human as the arrow passed through Lilith. That shriek went on and on and on as the arrow continued, straight and true into the heart of what had once been a little boy who’d played in the warm surf with his father.
Then Moira was standing alone with Cian on the edge of a valley that hummed with the hunger for more blood.
Cian bent, picked up the swords. “We need to go, now. She’ll have already sent others.”
“She loved him.” Moira’s voice sounded strange and thin to her own ears. “She loved the child.”
“Love isn’t exclusive to humans. We need to go.”
Her mind dull, she tried to focus on Cian. “You’re hurt.”
“And I don’t relish leaving any more blood here. Get mounted.”
She nodded, taking her own weapons before pulling herself onto the dragon. “She’d killed him,” Moira murmured as Cian vaulted on behind her. “But she loved him.”
She said nothing more as they flew away from the battlefield.
Glenna took over the moment they got back, herding them both into the parlor for first aid.
“I’m not hurt,” Moira insisted, but sat heavily. “I wasn’t touched.”
“Just sit.” Glenna got to work on Cian’s buttons. “Off with your shirt, handsome, so I can see the damage.”
“Some cuts, a few punctures.” He bit back a wince as he shrugged out of the shirt. “He was good with a sword, quick on his feet.”
“I’d say you were better and quicker.” Blair handed him a cup of whiskey. “That’s a nasty bite on the back of your shoulder, pal. What? This guy fought like a girl?”
“It was the boy,” Moira said before Cian could answer. She shook her head at the whiskey Blair offered. “Lilith’s boy, the one she called Davey. He came at us, riding a little pony, waving a sword no bigger than a toy.”
“He wasn’t a boy,” Cian said flatly.
“I know what he was.” Moira simply closed her eyes.
“A kiddie vamp did all this?” Blair demanded.
“No.” With some annoyance, Cian scowled at her. “What do you take me for? The soldier—trained and seasoned—Lilith must have sent after the whelp did this, except for the shagging bite.”
“How do I treat it?” Glenna asked him. “A vampire bite on a vampire?”