They launched themselves after her, colorful figures with flowing hair, dancing eyes and slender bodies. Keldwyn gave her a wave to catch her attention and raised his voice. “Meet me at the field just below the vil age. I'l join you there.” It only took a moment, but she was surprised to see him already there, and that he'd procured his own method of flight. He sat comfortably on the back of a female black dragon, one leg bent and heel propped on the creature's muscular neck, the other dangling in a relaxed manner. The dragon was so large she could have curled Lyssa under her wing span like an egg. As they passed over Keldwyn and his impressive mount, he adjusted to a straddle, speaking a quiet word. The dragon launched into the air, integrating into their flight pattern graceful y. As the teens maneuvered around her like sparrows around a pterodactyl, Lyssa took the wing position, staying within the dragon's peripheral vision. Violet eyes shot with yel ow pupils considered her as the female gave a deep-throated acknowledgment.

“You do like the dramatic, Lord Keldwyn.” With effort, Lyssa managed to conceal how impressed she was at the lithe and sinuous way the male moved with the dragon's shifting flight. It reminded her of how effortlessly Jacob sat a horse. At Mason's estate, he and Jessica had ridden Mason's Arabians a couple times, and it had been well worth watching.

“I might say the same. That was quite a take off.

Enjoy yourself with your new friends, Lady Lyssa. I will stay above you, but in range.” With another Fae word spoken to the dragon, Keldwyn ascended gently, so the backwash from the dragon's giant wings didn't take Lyssa for an unintentional somersault. As she watched him go, a thoughtful frown creased her brow. Lord Keldwyn was definitely not a predictable male, but despite Jacob's suspicions and Rhoswen's outright denigration, he was the closest thing they had to an all y in this world.

Now that Keldwyn had moved out of range, the young Fae became far more assertive, closing in around her, studying the movement of her wings, the way her tail moved like a serpent in the air, helping her balance. After a barrage of questions, they moved into more competitive territory.

“Can you do this?” all andra, the one who'd bravely approached her, now did a triple somersault, so close in front of Lyssa she executed a sharp banking maneuver to avoid running over the girl. But all andra was more lithe than expected, moving back proportionately with the rotations. Then she hovered, staring at Lyssa expectantly.

She'd told Jacob it had been a long time since she'd been treated the way Rhoswen had treated her in front of her mock court. It had also been a long, lo ng , long time since she'd been viewed as a potential new playmate. It was not a bad feeling.

She could do a triple somersault and did, even catching one of the male Fae within the coils of her tail and taking him along for the ride. He whooped with the pleasure of it. When she released him with a spin of motion and took off at ful speed, she set off an impromptu game of tag. In the populated and suspicious human world, she had to fly at night, in hiding. Even at Mason's estate, surrounded by beach and rain forest, she had to be careful. Not here. She was different here, yes, but it wasn't a difference that had to be hidden.

All creatures of flight were bonded by the exultance of soaring through the clouds, even if such an emotional connection couldn't survive on the ground. In the Appalachians, she'd discovered it with the pixies. Now she experienced it more fully, the Fae young delighted in what she could do and showing off their own reckless talents. As they did, they came close enough to brush their delicate, translucent wings against her. Sometimes they were overconfident, and she was able to balance them, keep them from taking a nosedive. The way they moved, straight sprints and quick lifts, drops and hovers, as they kept pace with her more batlike darting flight pattern, reminded her of dragonflies.

When she at last perched on a tree, they lined up on either side of her. Once she gave them permission, they touched her back, wings and tail, testing the texture of her skin. Jacob had said it was like a thin layer of velvet over a sleekly muscled seal.

Her eyes in this form were widely spaced, all owing her far greater coverage of her surroundings for the purposes of tracking, hunting and anticipating ambush. As a result, when one young Fae male tried to move in close enough to touch objects of a more prurient interest, she smacked him off the branch with an artful snap of her barbed tail. It made the others laugh. Even he grinned, after he recovered just short of hitting the ground. He floated back up, making a cocky somersault in the air.

“Can't blame a bloke for trying.”

All andra rol ed her eyes. “You try with everything, Tael. It's why you don't get none with anyone.”

“Queen's party,” one of the others hissed abruptly.

In a blink, they'd all disappeared up into the tree's thick canopy above her head. Intrigued, Lyssa looked down. A few blinks later, Rhoswen and an escort of her guard passed along the forest trail beneath the tree. Apparently, morning court was over and they'd been off on another errand. Whatever it was, they were on their way back, since they were headed toward the castle, not away from it.

The guards were dressed in what looked like ful honor regalia, silver mail glittering at a high shine beneath blue and white dragon tunics. Unlike the bows and daggers she'd seen them don earlier, today they wore long swords with ornate jeweled hilts, and carried painted shields with a different crest, a red rose twined around a silver sword hilt against a black field. Rhoswen wore her antlered crown, this time with a fal of sapphires dressing her hair. Her dress was white silk, overlaid with blue velvet. She and the dozen in her entourage were moving at a silent, sedate pace, as if in a parade ceremony. The only noise came from smal chimes on the chin pieces of the horses' bridles.

As she focused on the queen, the curiosity Lyssa felt about the procession and its purpose became something else. She should have expected the reaction, seeing as it had been roiling in her gut since last night, but she hadn't expected the sight of Rhoswen to trigger it so strongly.

Feral rage.

When Rhoswen and Jacob had vanished from the upper room, Lyssa had gone numb inside, so that Arrdol's touch felt unreal, distant. Inside, everything had become cold and hard. Silent. Whatever happened next, she could withdraw into that dark, stone place, even knowing it was the type of place that could trap a person there, the haven becoming a prison. Particularly if it was built of memories that clawed and demanded she stay there.

Then she had opened her eyes at a familiar touch and found herself in bed with Jacob, joined to her, everything as it should be. But the way he'd trembled, the wild aggression and anguish in his eyes, told her that Rhoswen had made him believe she would hurt Lyssa. She'd used that to force him to do her will , do things that made him feel unclean for her, less deserving.

Last night, they'd focused only on the fact they'd survived. But now, looking down at the silver and blue figure coming through the woods, Lyssa had room for something else. She might have given most of her vampire powers to Jacob, but it didn't mean she couldn't feel savage bloodlust, particularly when goaded to it.

Rhoswen must have picked up on some change in the air, because she reined in her horse, glanced around, then up, to meet Lyssa's dark gaze. Lyssa registered a moment of surprise in the Fae queen's eyes, but then it was gone, as if Rhoswen had expected to meet Lyssa all along.

“Sister.” That mocking tone again. “Are you sure it's safe to leave your vampire pet alone?”

“He's as safe as I am, right?” Lyssa dropped down to a lower branch, coiling her tail around it. It brought her closer, but she was stil above Rhoswen.

Cayden was keeping his sharp eye on her, and in this instance, Lyssa knew he was wise to do so.

Rhoswen's horse sidled at her unfamiliar form, but Rhoswen calmed him with a touch. There was no tack on the stal ion, Lyssa noted, though he was richly turned out with jewels in his mane and tail, an embroidered blanket with the royal signet spread over his haunches. “Wil you be with the Haunt tonight?”

“We meet up with the Seelie Hunt first. Then I lead the Unseelie procession through the portal to start the Haunt. The two Fae courts don't wander too far apart. They're like a tangled pair of vines, unable to tear free of one another.” Rhoswen gave a brittle smile. “Though I prefer our method of celebration to theirs. It's far more suited to the human world.”

“Yes. I can see how you would feel that way. A crop blessing isn't nearly as enjoyable as violence and fear. Like blackmailing my servant into fucking you so I wouldn't be violated.”

Cayden toed his horse so he was even with Rhoswen's mount. He stared up at Lyssa, his mouth a hard line. “You will show the Fae queen respect.”

“When she deserves it, I'l be the first.” She was always more uninhibited, closer to animal instinct, when she was in her Fae form. Was it that, plus being in the Fae world itself, a place of ancient earth spirits, that made her that much more intolerant of anything but the bold truth? Or maybe her protective instincts surpassed even Jacob's, when goaded past a certain point.

Of course, because she was stirring a hornet's nest, she'd woken her servant. She felt his touch, knew he was picking up the dangerous waves she was sending out.

“Bring me the spear,” Rhoswen spoke to Cayden, her mouth tight.

“Your Majesty?”

“You heard me clearly enough.”

Power lanced out with the words. Cayden's horse threw up his head as several lines of blood appeared on the captain's face. While the queen did not turn her attention to him, Lyssa saw the flash of cold anger before Cayden's face went blank. His mask to hide murderous rage, she assumed.

Backing the horse, he cal ed out in the Fae language. One of his men dismounted, moved to a packhorse and unlaced a long, slender item wrapped in black cloth. When he carried it to Cayden with obvious reverence and care, the captain of the guard took it, wheeled the horse and came back to Rhoswen, who hadn't removed her frigid stare from Lyssa throughout.

“Your Majesty—” He stifled a curse as another rivulet opened on the opposite side of his face.