Reign Of Gods (Book #1 in 'Vampire God Trilogy') [COMPLETED]

Chapter 20

Blair liked the woods. She liked
the smell of them, the look of the
big-trunked trees, the play of light
and shadow that, for her, made a
kind of visual music. The forest
floor was carpeted with leaves that had fallen over countless years, and the fairy green of moss. The stream that ran glinting through it only added to that fairy-tale quality. It
was slender and curvy, making more music with the water singing over rock.

She‟d been to Clare before, had wandered field and forest and hill, and wondered how she‟d missed
this place if it truly was her beginnings. She supposed she
hadn‟t been meant to find it before,
to walk here. To know. It was now, with these people, in this place.

The witch and the wizard, she
mused. They were so full of love,
all shiny and new, they all but glistened with it.
Advantage or disadvantage
—she‟d have to wait and see.
But she knew one thing. She wanted Glenna to make her a fire dagger.
The witch was okay. Great hair, too, and an urban sense of style that showed through even with simple pants and shirts. Lot of smarts going on in there, if Blair was any judge. And she was. She‟d gone out of her way to be welcoming, it seemed, the night before. Fixing food, fluffing up the room she‟d assigned to Blair.
It was a lot more than she was used to. And it was nice.

The wizard seemed to be on the intense side. Did a lot of watching, didn‟t have a lot to say. She could respect that. Just as she could, and did, respect the power he wore like skin.

As for the vampire, she was in a holding pattern there. He would be
a formidable ally, or foe—and to
date, she‟d never considered a vamp any kind of ally. Still, she‟d seen something in his face when his brother had spoken of Nola. It had been pain.

The other woman was quiet as a mouse. Watchful, oh yeah, and a
little on the soft side yet. She hadn‟t made up her mind about Blair any more than Blair had about her.

And the guy? Larkin. Some serious eye-candy. He had a good, athletic build that should make him an asset in a fight. Boiling with energy, too,
she thought. The shape-shifting deal could come in handy, if he was any good at it. She‟d have to ask for a demo.

It was a lot—they were a lot—to
whip into shape in a very short
time. She‟d have to be up to it if
any of them were going to make it
out of this alive.

But for now, it was nice to take a morning stroll through the trees, listening to the water sing, watching the light dance.

She skirted around a rock, cocked her head at what was curled sleeping under its shadow.

“This is your morning wake-up call,” she said, and pulled the trigger on the crossbow she carried.
The vampire barely had time to open its eyes.
She retrieved the arrow, set it again.

She took out three more, disturbing another who sprinted off down the path, dodging beams of thin sunlight. Without a clear shot, and unwilling to waste an arrow, she took off after him.

The horse leaped onto the path, a gleaming black beast, with the gilded god on its back. Larkin sliced down with his sword, and beheaded the fleeing vampire.

“Nice job,” she called out.
Through streams of sunlight, Larkin trotted the horse toward her.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Killing vampires. You?”

“The horse needed a run. You shouldn't be out here alone, so far from the house.”

“You are.”

“They couldn't catch this one.” He patted Vlad on the neck. “He‟s the wind. So then, how many have you seen?”