The blade that appeared in the Lord’s hand had a handle wrapped with a leather thong. It must have been causing him serious discomfort this whole time; he’d been keeping it inside his cloak, tucked away against his side. The blade was vicious, needlelike, and flashed bright silver: the perfect weapon for a vampire noble, inexperienced in the art of fighting, to drive through their enemy’s eardrum and straight into their brain. Ereth moved quickly. I moved quicker.
