“Both my assistants have good hearts,” Seba said.

“But is Larten’s a heart you might wish to win?” Evanna laughed at the eagerness of the question.

“You’re here just a couple of minutes and already you want to pair me off with the nearest vampire at hand.” She brushed his cheek fondly and shook her head.

“Ask no favors of me yet, old friend. Let us simply enjoy each other’s company for a while. I would know all that you have been up to and how things go with the rest of the clan.”

Taking his arm, she led the gray-haired vampire inside. After a pause, Larten and Wester followed.

Vancha came last, having run another palmful of spit through his hair to make it extra stiff and shiny. “If that doesn’t impress her,” he said smugly to himself, “I don’t know what will!”

Evanna was Desmond Tiny’s daughter. He had created her a thousand years ago, mixing the blood of a vampire with that of a pregnant wolf. She was a powerful enchantress who could work many magical charms. But the night-walkers were most interested in one particular ability of hers.

Vampires couldn’t have children. That was the way it had always been. To keep the race alive, they needed to blood humans. The clan used to think that would always be the case, but Evanna had the power to bear a vampire’s child. If she chose, she could breed with a vampire and her offspring would be able to reproduce too.

Vampires had been wooing Evanna for hundreds of years. Mr. Tiny had warned that she and her young would have the power to wipe out the clan, but they cared nothing about the risks. The possibility of being able to rear children of their own was intoxicating.

But Evanna had so far shunned their advances. She had never taken a vampire as a mate, or given any hint that she intended to. Still they sought her out and tried to win her heart, fighting in her name, offering her gifts, doing all that they could to make her theirs. To no avail.