“First things first,” Evanna said, lying on a chaise longue and plucking a grape from a tray. “How has my little Vancha been? Tel Mommy all.”

“Mommy?” Larten gasped.

“I wish you wouldn’t say things like that,” Vancha grimaced. “I don’t cal you a witch, do I?”

“With good reason,” Evanna snapped, eyes flashing. “I’ll cut out the tongue of anyone who calls me that. I’m the world’s most powerful sorceress, a priestess of dark arts, mother of the future and Lady of the Wilds. You, on the other hand, will always be my sweet, cuddly Vancha. I still remember feeding you and the way you used to burp when you were done.” She giggled. “That much hasn’t changed.”

“Evanna found me when I was a baby,” Vancha muttered to Larten and Wester. “My parents had been killed and I’d been left to die. She rescued me and carried me with her for a few years before handing me over to… someone else,” he finished vaguely.

Evanna’s smile faded. “You make it sound as if I carried you alone,” she said softly.

“As I remember it, Lady, you did,” Vancha said, and there was an edge to his tone now that surprised the younger pair of vampires.

Evanna held Vancha’s gaze for a few seconds, then shook her head and sighed. “A man should never turn his back on his — ”

“Please!” Vancha snapped. “Let the past lie.”

“The past never lies buried forever,” Evanna muttered. “We cannot hide from those to whom we are bound by nature. But if you wish to keep your silly secrets, so be it. You know that I only ever wished the best for you.”

“And I’m grateful to you for that,” Vancha said, his features softening. Then he spat and winked. “I just wish you didn’t treat me like a damn child.” Evanna laughed. “When you have a few more centuries under your belt, I will consider you an adult. Until then…” She pinched his cheek.