She touched her hair now, watching her fingers move through it. “The way my lips, my cheeks would move with a smile, the way my eyebrows will lift and fall. And last, the last time I saw this face, it was in the eyes of the one who sired me. Two thousand years have passed since I’ve looked into my own eyes.” A tear trickled down her cheek, and its reflection enchanted her. “I’m here,” she said quietly, a voice thick with emotion. “I’m here.”

“You’re pleased, Your Majesty?” Midir lowered his folded hands to his waist. “I thought it your fondest wish.”

“I have never had such a gift. Look! How my mouth moves when I speak. I want a great one, Midir, a big one so I can see the whole of me at once.”

“I believe it can be done, but it would take time and power. The portal…”

“Of course, of course.” Lilith angled the mirror from overhead to try to see more of herself. “I’m as greedy as Davey, demanding more even as I hold a treasure in my hands. Midir, you’ve pleased me beyond measure. I’ll have what you need brought to you.”

When he bowed she walked to him, touched his cheek. “Beyond measure,” she repeated. “I won’t forget that you troubled to touch my heart.”

Larkin scurried out after them. Since they spoke of nothing now but the mirror and their own beauty, he veered off to look for their arsenal, to get a clearer idea of their numbers.

He streaked down darkened tunnels, squeezed under doors. In one chamber he found three vampires feasting on a man. When the man moaned, Larkin’s shock made him careless. One of them spotted him, and lifted its bloody face in a smile.

“Wouldn’t mind a little rat for dessert.”

As he pounced, Larkin shot under the doorway again, and across to the next, streaking between the feet of the guard and under.

Into the arsenal.

Weapons for a thousand, he realized. For a thousand and more. Sword and lance, bow and ax, all stored with a military precision that told him this was indeed an army, and not just a pack of animals.

And this they would take to Geall to destroy it.

Well, he’d give them some trouble first.

Turning into a man, he took the single torch from the wall to set the tables, the chests, the cabinets to light.

Distraction and destruction, he thought, tossing the torch aside before turning back into the rat again.

As fast as he could, he went back to the area where the prisoners were kept. He saw the man the boy had chosen was no longer in his cage. So he was too late to save him or the woman. But there were others, more than twenty others, and he would give them a chance at least.

There was only one guard now, leaning up against the wall and despite the moans and pleas, he seemed to be half dozing.

It would take speed and it would take luck, Larkin thought. He was counting on having both. He changed into a man, grabbed the sword at the vampire’s side, swung it hard.

As the dust exploded, the screams from the cages were deafening.

“You have to run.” He grabbed the keys from the hook on the wall and began to unlock cages. He shoved the sword into the hands of a man who looked at it blankly.

“You can hurt them with that,” Larkin said quickly. “Kill them if you cut off the head. Kill them with fire. There are torches in the tunnels. Use them. Here.” He shoved the keys into another pair of hands. “Unlock the rest. Then run. Some of you may get out. I’m going to do what I can to keep the way clear.”

Though he knew he risked draining his energy, he changed once more as the chaos whirled around him. Into a wolf that sprang out of the doorway.

He veered left, hoping to buy time and charged the first vampire he saw. He took it by surprise, ripped out its throat. Muzzle dripping, he ran.

He’d hoped the fire he’d set in the arsenal would keep many of them busy. But he heard no alarm as yet.

He saw two carrying bodies to a stack of more dead. Tossed, he thought, like offal. As he ran, he changed, and as he changed he reached for a sword.

He took them both with one blow.

There was shouting now, not the human screaming, but sounds of alarm and fury. Once more he changed into the wolf to use its speed. He could do no more than he had done.

He swung down a tunnel, and he saw the boy.

He was crouched on the ground, feasting on the man who’d been in the cage. The child’s shiny hair was streaked with blood, and it dripped from his fingers, from his lips.

The low growl that rumbled out of Larkin’s throat had the boy looking up. “Doggie!” Davey grinned, horribly. “None for you until I’m finished. I’m done with that one, so you can have it if you want.”

He gestured toward the woman who lay facedown a few feet away.

“She wasn’t as much fun as this one, so I finished quick.”

Beyond rage, Larkin bunched to spring.

“Davey, there you are!” The one who’d sparred with Lora clipped quickly down the tunnel. “Your mother wants you in your chambers. Some of the humans are loose, and they’ve managed to set a fire.”

“But I haven’t finished yet.”

“You’ll have to finish later. Are these both your kills?” He crouched down to give Davey a congratulatory pat on the back. “Good for you. But if you eat any more, you’ll just get sick. I’ll send someone down, have these taken to the heap, but for now, you need to come with me.”

He glanced over as he spoke, eyeing Larkin. “One of your mother’s wolves? I thought she’d sent them all—”

Larkin saw the change on its face, the sudden bracing of its body. He leaped, but missed the throat as the vampire blocked the charge. The force of the blow hurled Larkin against the wall, but he was up quickly, charging again before the thing could clear its sword.

There was screaming, horrible screaming and his own snarls and snaps. The part of him that was wolf lusted for blood as much as the man inside it lusted for vengeance.

He sank his claws into the thing’s shoulder, its chest.

Then there was pain, unspeakable pain as the child leaped on his back and used his fangs.

With a howl, Larkin reared back, managed to shake the boy off. But he was up quickly, and the one on the ground was reaching for its sword.

The wolf was done, and Larkin prayed he had enough left in him to get out, and away.

His light sparked, shimmered weakly. There was more pain, and with it now a dragging weakness. But he became the mouse, small and quick, slipping into shadows and hunting the sound of the sea.