“I guess we’ll find out.”

“Get it. You’re up with Moira. They’ll have archers too, and they see a hell of lot better in the dark than we do. Larkin, you and me, we’re going to create a diversion. Moira, you don’t start picking them off until you get the signal.”

“What signal?”

“You’ll know it. One more thing. Those three out there, they’re already gone. All we can do is make a statement. You have to accept that chances are slim to none when it comes to saving any of them.”

“We have to try,” Moira insisted.

“Yeah, well, that’s what we’re here for. Let’s go.”

“Is that one of your trick swords?” Cian asked Hoyt as they approached the east door.

“It is.”

“Then keep it well away from me.” He touched his finger to his lips, eased open the door. For a moment, there was no sound, no movement but the rain. Then Cian was out, a blur of dark in the dark.

Even as he stepped out to follow, he saw Cian snap two necks and behead a third. “On your left,” Cian said quietly.

Hoyt pivoted and met what came at him with steel, and with fire.

Upstairs, Glenna knelt within the circle she’d cast and chanted. The silver around her throat, on her finger glowed brighter with every heartbeat. Moira crouched to the side of the open doorway, a quiver at her back, a bow in her hand.

Moira glanced back at her. “The shackles.”

“No, that was for something else. I’ll start that now.”

“What was it... Oh.” Moira looked back into the dark, but now thanks to Glenna, with the vision of a cat. “Oh aye, that’s a right good one. They’ve archers back in the trees. I only see six. I can take six.”

“Don’t go outside. Don’t go out until I’m done here.” Glenna fought to clear her mind, calm her heart, and call the magic.

Out of the dark, like vengeance, came a gold horse. And the rider on its back wielded death.

With Larkin at a gallop, Blair swung the torch, striking three that burst into flames and took two more into the blaze with them. Then she heaved it, spinning destruction through the air, and flashed a fiery sword.

“It’s now, Glenna!” Moira let the first arrow fly. “It’s now!”

“Yes, I’ve got it. I’ve got it.” She grabbed the ax, and a dagger, at a run.

Moira’s arrows were winging as they both sprinted into the rain. And the things that were waiting rushed them.

Glenna didn’t think, only acted, only felt. She let her body move into that dance of life and death, striking, blocking, thrusting. Fire rippled over the blades as she swung.

There were screams, such horrible screams. Human, vampire, how could she tell? She smelled blood, tasted it; knew some of it was her own. Her heart beat, a war drum in her chest so she barely registered the arrow that whizzed by her head as she plunged fire into what leaped at her.

“They’ve hit Larkin. They’ve hit him.”

At Moira’s shout, Glenna saw the arrow in the foreleg of the horse. But it ran still like a demon with Blair raging destruction from its back.

Then she saw Hoyt fighting fang and sword to get to one of the prisoners.

“I have to go help. Moira, there are too many down there.”

“Go. I’ve got this. I’ll lower the odds, I promise you.”

She charged down, screaming to draw some away from Hoyt and Cian.

She thought it would be a blur, just madness rushing over her, and through her. But it was clear in every detail. The faces, the sounds, the scents, the feel of warm blood and cold rain running over her. The red eyes, the terrible hunger in them. And the horrible flash and screaming when fire took them.

She saw Cian break off the end of an arrow that had found his thigh, and plunge it into the heart of an enemy. She saw the ring she’d put on Hoyt’s finger burn like another fire as he took two with one blow.

“Get them inside,” he shouted to her. “Try to get them inside.”

She rolled over the wet grass toward the girl Lora had tormented. She half expected to find her dead. Instead she found her showing fangs in a grin.

“Oh God.”

“Didn’t you hear her? He doesn’t come.”

She pounced, knocking Glenna onto her back, then threw back her head with the joy of the kill. Blair’s sword cut it off.

“You’d be surprised,” Glenna returned.

“Inside,” Blair shouted. “Back in. That’s enough of a goddamn statement.” She reached down to help Glenna mount behind her.

They left the field flaming, and covered with dust.

“How many did we kill?” Larkin demanded as he collapsed on the floor. Blood ran down his leg to puddle on the wood.

“At least thirty—damn good ratio. You’ve got some speed, Golden Boy.” Blair looked straight into his eyes. “Winged you a little.”

“It’s not altogether too bad. It just—” He didn’t scream when she yanked the arrow out. He didn’t have the breath to scream. When he got it back, all he could manage was a stream of shaky curses.

“You next,” she said to Cian, nodding at the broken arrow protruding from his thigh.

He simply reached down, yanked it out himself. “Thanks all the same.”

“I’ll get supplies. Your leg’s bleeding,” Glenna told Blair.

“We’re all banged up some. But we’re not dead. Well.” She sent Cian a cocky grin. “Most of us.”

“That never gets tired, does it?” Cian speculated and went for the brandy.

“They weren’t human. In the cages.” Moira held her shoulder where the tip of an arrow had grazed it.

“No. I couldn’t tell from in here. Too many of them to separate the scents. It was smart.” Blair nodded, a grim acknowledgment. “A good way to engage us and not waste any of their food supply. Bitch has a brain.”

“We didn’t get Lora.” With his breath still heaving out of his lungs, Hoyt eased down. He had a gash on his side, another on his arm. “I saw her when we were fighting our way back into the house. We didn’t get her.”

“She’s going to be mine. My very special friend.” Blair pursed her lips when Cian offered her a brandy. “Thanks.”

Standing in the center of them on shaky knees, Glenna took stock. “Blair, get Larkin’s tunic off. I need to see the wound. Moira, how bad is your wound?”