“If I hadn’t, they hadn’t, you’d have gone anyway.”

He watched her as he strapped on his sword. Pain was already slicing thin wounds in both of them, as he’d known it would from the moment he’d touched her. “Yes, but it’s less complicated this way.”

“Are you done with me then?”

“And if I am?”

“You’ll be fighting on two fronts, you right bastard.”

He laughed, couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t only pain between them, he realized. He’d do well to remember that. “Then it’s lucky for me I’m not done with you. Moira, last night you knew you had to be the one to end what had once been a boy you’d known, you’d been fond of. I knew it, so I stopped myself from doing it, from sparing you from that. I know I have to go, and go without you for now. You know that, too.”

“It doesn’t make it easier. We may never be alone again, never be able to be with each other as we were again. I want more time—there hasn’t been enough time, and I need more.”

She moved to him, held him hard and tight. “We didn’t have our night. It didn’t last till morning.”

“But the hours mattered, every minute of them.”

“I’m greedy. And already fretting that you’ll go while I stay.”

Not just today, he thought. Both of them knew she didn’t speak only of today. “Do women of Geall follow the tradition of sending their men off with a favor?”

“What would you have from me?”

“A lock of your hair.” The sentiment of it surprised him, and embarrassed a little. But when she drew back, he could see his request had pleased her.

“You’ll keep it with you? That part of me?”

“I would, if you’ll spare it.”

She touched her hair, then held up a hand. “Wait, wait. I have something. I’ll have to get it.” She heard the trumpet call of dragons. “Oh, they’re ready for you. I’ll bring it to you, outside. Don’t leave. Promise me you’ll wait until I come to say goodbye.”

“I’ll be there.” This time, he thought as she rushed out.

O utside, in the shelter of shade, Cian studied the dragons Larkin had chosen, and the men they’d decided on together.

Then he frowned down at the ball of hardened mud Glenna held out to him. “Thanks, but I had quite enough at breakfast.”

“Very funny. It’s a bomb.”

“Red, it’s a ball of mud.”

“Yes, a ball of earth—charmed earth, holding a ball of fire inside. If you drop it from the air.” She used her hands waving them down as she made a whistling noise—then a puff of breath to simulate an explosion. “In theory,” she added.

“In theory.”

“I’ve tested it, but not from a dragon perch. At some point you could try it out for me.”

Frowning, he turned it over in his hands. “Just drop it?”

“Right. Somewhere safe.”

“And it’s not likely to explode in my hands and turn me into a fireball?”

“It needs velocity and force. But it wouldn’t hurt to be sure you had good altitude when it’s bombs away.” She rose on her toes, kissed him on both cheeks. “Be safe. We’ll see you in a couple of days.”

Still frowning, he secured the ball into one of the pockets of the weapon harness Blair had fashioned for Larkin.

“We’ll be watching.” Hoyt laid a hand on Cian’s shoulder. “Try to stay out of trouble until I’m with you again. And you as well,” he said to Larkin.

“I’ve already told him I’ll kick his ass if he gets himself killed.” Blair gripped Larkin’s hair, pulled his head down for a hard kiss. She turned to Cian.

“We’re not doing a group hug.”

She grinned. “I’m with you on that. Stay away from pointy wooden objects.”

“That’s the plan.” He looked over her head as Moira ran toward the stables.

“I’d hoped to be quicker,” she said breathlessly. “You’re ready then. Larkin. Be safe.” She hugged him.

“And you.” He gave her a last squeeze. “Mount your dragons!” he called out, and with a last flashing grin for Blair, changed.

“I have what you asked me for.” Moira held out a silver locket while Blair harnessed Larkin. “My father gave it to my mother when I was born, so she could keep a lock of my hair in it. I left that one, and put in another.”

And had added what magic she could.

Rising on her toes, she put the chain over his head. To make a point, to him, to any who watched, she took his face in her hands, and kissed him long and warm and tender.

“I’ll have another of those waiting for you,” she told him. “So don’t do anything foolish.”

He put on the cloak, lifting the hood and securing it. He mounted Larkin, looked into Moira’s eyes.

“In two days,” he said.

He rose up into the sky on the golden dragon. Others soared behind him, trumpeting.

As she watched, as those glints of color grew smaller with distance, Moira was struck with a sudden knowledge, a certainty that the six of them would not come back from the valley to Castle Geall as a circle.

Behind her, Glenna gestured to Hoyt, sending him away. She hooked an arm around Blair’s waist, around Moira’s. “All right, ladies, let’s get busy packing and stacking so we can get you back together with your men.”

Chapter 16

H e wished for rain. Or at the very least a thick layer of cooling clouds to smother the sun. The damn cloak was hot as the hell he was eventually bound for. He just wasn’t used to feeling extremes in temperatures.

Being undead, Cian mused, tended to spoil a man.

Soaring on a dragon was a thrilling experience, no question. For the first thirty minutes or so. And another thirty could be spent admiring the green and pastoral countryside below.

But after an hour in a f**king wool sauna, it was just misery.

If he had Hoyt’s patience and dignity, he supposed he would ride steely-eyed and straight-backed until doomsday. Even with the intolerable heat melting the flesh from his bones. But then he and his twin had had some basic differences even before he’d become a vampire.

He could meditate, he supposed, but it seemed unwise to risk a self-induced trance. He had the sun beating overhead just waiting to fry him like bacon, and a magic bomb strapped on Larkin that for all he knew could burst into flame just for the fun of it.