“When did you not?”
“She’s carrying the weight of the fricking world. If what you two have going lightens that a little, I’m for it. Being with Larkin shifted some of mine, so I hope it’s working for the two of you.”
“You surprise me, demon hunter.”
“I surprise myself, vampire, but there it is. Sun’s down. You ready to rock?”
With enormous relief, he shoved back the hood of the cloak. “Let’s show your cowboy some real moves.”
Chapter 12
Davey had been Lilith’s for nearly five years. She’d slaughtered his parents and younger sister one balmy summer night in Jamaica. The off-season vacation package—airfare, hotel and continental breakfast included—had been a surprise thirtieth birthday gift from Davey’s father to his wife. Their first night there, giddy with holiday spirit and the complimentary glasses of rum punch, they had conceived a third child.
They were, of course, unaware of this, and had things gone differently the prospect of a new baby would have put the skids on tropical vacations for some time to come.
As it was, it was their last family holiday.
It had been during one of Lilith’s brief and passionate estrangements from Lora. She’d chosen Jamaica on a whim, and entertained herself picking off locals and the occasional tourist. But she’d grown tired of the taste of the men who trolled the bars.
She wanted some variety—something a little fresher and sweeter. She found just what she was looking for with the young family.
She’d ended the mother’s and little girl’s giggling moonlight walk along the beach swiftly and viciously. Still she’d been impressed with the woman’s panicked and ineffectual struggle, and her instinctive move to protect the child. As they’d satisfied her hunger, she might have left the man and boy splashing unaware in the surf down the beach. But she’d wanted to see if the father would fight for the son. Or beg, as the mother had begged.
He had—and had screamed at the boy to run. Run, Davey, run! he’d shouted. And his terror for his son enriched his blood to make the kill all the sweeter.
But the boy hadn’t run. He’d fought, too, and that had impressed her more. He’d kicked and he’d bitten, and had even tried to leap on her back to save his father. It was the wildness of his attack combined with his angelic face that had decided her on changing him rather than draining him and moving on.
When she had pressed his mouth to her bleeding breast, she had felt something stirring inside her that had never stirred for another. The almost maternal sensation had fascinated and delighted her.
So Davey became her pet, her toy, her son, her lover.
It pleased her how quickly, how naturally he’d taken to the change. When she and Lora had reconciled, as they always did, Lilith had told her Davey was their vampiric Peter Pan. The little boy, eternally six.
Still like any boy of six, he needed to be tended to, entertained, taught. Only more so, in Lilith’s opinion, as her Davey was a prince. As such, he had both great privilege, and great duty.
She considered this specific hunt to be both.
He quivered with excitement as she dressed him in the rough clothes of a peasant boy. It made her laugh to see his eyes so bright as she added to the game by smearing some dirt and blood on his face.
“Can I see? Can I look in your magic mirror and see myself? Please, please!”
“Of course.” Lilith sent a quick and amused look toward Lora—adult to adult. Picking up the game, Lora shuddered as she picked up the treasured mirror.
“You look terrifying,” Lora told Davey. “So small and weak. And…human!”
Carefully taking the mirror, Davey stared at his reflection. And bared his fangs. “It’s like a costume,” he said, and giggled. “I get to kill one all by myself, right, Mama? All by myself.”
“We’ll see.” Lilith took the mirror, and bent down to kiss his filthy cheek. “You have a very important part to play, my darling. The most important part of all.”
“I know just what to do.” He bounced up and down on his toes. “I practiced and practiced.”
“I know. You’ve worked very hard. You’re going to make me so proud.”
She put the mirror aside, facedown, forcing herself not to take a peek at herself. Lora’s burns were still raw and pink, and her reflection so distressing that Lilith only looked into the charmed mirror when Lora was out of the room.
At the knock at the door, she turned. “That will be Midir. Let him in, Davey, then go out and wait with Lucian.”
“We’re going soon?”