“The next time I see her, I won’t weep and hide under the covers like a frightened child. The next time I see her, she dies, by my hand. I swear it.”

“Do you still have a yearning to change her, for a playmate?”

“I’d never give that whore such a gift.” Lora’s mouth tightened on a snarl. “She’ll get only death from me.” Then with a sigh, Lora laid her head on Lilith’s shoulder. “She would never have been what you are to me. I thought to have a bit of fun with her. And I thought she’d be entertaining for both of us in bed—all that energy and violence inside her was so appealing. But I could never have loved her as I love you.”

She tilted her head up now so their lips met in a long, soft kiss. “I’m yours, Lilith. Eternally.”

“My sweet girl.” Lilith pressed another kiss to Lora’s temple. “Do you know when I first saw you, sitting alone on the dark, damp streets of Paris, weeping, I knew you’d belong to me.”

“I thought I loved a man,” Lora murmured. “And he loved me. But he used me, spurned me, tossed me aside for another. I thought my heart was broken. Then you were there.”

“Do you remember what I said to you?”

“I will never forget. You said, ‘My sweet, sad girl, are you all alone?’ I told you my life was over, that I would be dead of grief by morning.”

Lilith laughed, stroked Lora’s hair. “So dramatic. How could I resist you?”

“Or I you. You were so beautiful—like the queen you are. You wore red, as you do tonight, and your hair so bright, all curls. You took me to your house, and fed me bread and wine, and listened to my sad tale and dried my tears.”

“So young and charming you were. So sure this man who had cast you aside was all you could ever want.”

“I don’t remember his name now. Or his face.”

“You came so willingly into my arms,” Lilith murmured. “I asked if you would wish to stay young and lovely forever, if you would wish to have power over men like the one who hurt you. You said yes, and yes again. Even when I tasted you, you held tight to me and said again, yes and yes.”

Hints of red stained the whites of Lora’s eyes as she remembered that magnificent moment. “I’d never known such a thrill.”

“When you drank from me, I loved you as I had no other.”

“And when I lived again, you brought him to me, so I could have the one who scorned me for my first kill. We shared him, as we’ve shared so much.”

“When Samhain comes, we will share all there is.”

W hile the vampires slept, Moira stood on the playing field. She was filthy and drenched. Her hip throbbed from a blow that had slipped past her guard, and her breath was still wheezing out of her lungs from the last bout.

She felt wonderful.

She held out a hand to help Dervil to her feet. “You did very well,” Moira told her. “You nearly had me.”

Wincing, Dervil rubbed her ample rump. “I think not.”

Hands on hips, her head covered with a wide-brimmed and now sodden leather hat, Glenna surveyed both of them. “You stayed on your feet longer this time, and got back on them quicker.” She nodded approval at Dervil. “Improvement. From what I’m told there are several men on the other side of this field that you could take.”

“There are several men on the other side of the field she has taken,” Isleen called out, and got a number of bawdy laughs.

“And I know what to do with them when I take them,” Dervil retorted.

“Put some of that energy into your next match,” Glenna suggested, “and you might win it instead of ending up in the mud. Let’s finish up with some archery practice, and call this a day.”

Even as the women responded with relief that the session was nearly done, Moira waved a hand. “I haven’t yet met Ceara in hand-to-hand. I’ve been saving what I’m told is the best for last. So I can retire full champion from the field.”

“Cocky. I like it.” Blair spoke as she moved through the rain and the mud. “Weapon details moving along,” she added. “We’ve kicked production up a notch.” She tipped back her head. “Let me tell you, this rain feels great after a couple hours with an anvil and forge. So, what’s the score here?”

“Moira’s taken all comers with sword and hand-to-hand. She’s challenged Ceara here to a bout before we finish up with bows.”

“Good enough. I can take a group to the targets while you finish up here.”

There was immediate and vocal protest from the women who were eager to watch the last match.

“Blood-thirsty.” Blair nodded approval. “I like that, too. All right, ladies, give them room. Who’s your money on?” she murmured to Glenna as the two women squared off.

“Moira’s hot, and motivated. She’s just plowed through the field today. I’d have to put my money on her.”

“I’ll take Ceara. She’s tricky, and she’s not afraid to take a hit. See,” she added when Ceara went sprawling facedown in the mud, and sprang up again to charge.

She feinted, pivoting at the last minute, then swept up a foot to catch Moira mid-body. The queen shot back from the hit, managed to catch her balance and duck the next blow. She came up hard, flipped Ceara over her shoulder. But when she spun around, Ceara wasn’t flat on her back, but had pumped off her own hands, and striking out with her feet, kicked Moira into the mud.

Moira was up quickly, and with a light in her eyes. “Well now, your reputation hasn’t been exaggerated, I see.”

“I’m after the prize.” Ceara crouched, circled. “Be warned.”

“Come get it then.”

“Good fight,” Blair commented as fists and feet and bodies flew. “Ceara, keep your elbows up!”

Glenna jabbed Blair with her own. “No coaching from the peanut gallery.” But she was smiling, not just because it was a good, strong fight, but because the rest of the women were shouting and calling out advice.

They’d made themselves a unit.

Moira fell back, scissored out her legs and swept Ceara’s from under her. But when she rolled up again to pin her opponent, Ceara thrust up and flipped Moira over her head.

There were several sounds of sympathy as Moira landed with a bone-rattling thud. Before she could shove up again, Ceara was straddling her, an elbow to Moira’s throat, and a fist to her heart.