Her attention was on the first knight, pulling back his bowstring, taking aim. She paused, sensed the wind and revised her aim, then let the arrow fly.
I watched, as if in slow motion, as it shot across the space and split through the first knight's throat.
But Lia was not done. She was already on one knee, squinting and taking aim at the second as he turned, spotting us. She let the next arrow fly, and the arrow struck him in the chest, driving him backward over the parapet wall.
"Saints in heaven, I believe I'm in love," Luca growled, running past me, sword drawn.
