by Nora Roberts
“Why?”
“Why? Because, you know, dragon, and how they don’t exist.”
Fascinated now, he swiveled in his seat. “You don’t have dragons here?”
Blair shifted her gaze toward him. “No,” she said slowly.
“Sure that’s a pity. Moira, did you hear that? They’ve no dragons here in Ireland.”
Moira opened her tired eyes. “I think she’s meaning they don’t have them anywhere in this world.”
“Well, that can’t be. Can it?”
“No dragons,” Blair confirmed. “No unicorns or winged horses, no centaurs.”
“Ah well.” He reached over to pat her arm. “You have cars, and they’re interesting. I’m starved,” he said after a moment. “Are you starved? That many changes, it just empties me out. Could we stop somewhere, do you think, buy some of those crisps in the bag?”
It wasn’t exactly a victory feast, munching on salt-and-vinegar chips and chugging soda from a bottle, but it got them home.
When they arrived, Blair stuck the keys in her pocket. “You three go inside. Larkin and I can take care of the weapons. You’re still pretty pale.”
Hoyt lifted the bag holding the blood he’d bought at the butcher’s. “I’ll take this up to Cian.”
Blair waited until they were inside. “We’re going to have to talk to them,” she told Larkin. “Set up some parameters, some boundaries.”
“Aye, we are.” He leaned on the van as he looked toward the house. It was good, he thought, and somewhat curious, how they understood each other at times with no words. “Are we agreed? They can’t use that kind of magic, at least not often, not unless there’s no choice.”
“Nosebleeds, queasiness, headaches.” She pulled weapons out of the cargo area. You had a team, she thought, you had to worry about its members. No choice. “I could just look at Moira and see the headache. It can’t be good for them, that kind of physical toll.”
“I thought, at first, when I saw them on the ground, I thought…”
“Yeah.” She let out a long, unsteady breath. “So did I.”
“I’ve come to feel a great deal for Hoyt and Glenna, Cian, too, come to that. It’s stronger, deeper even than friendship. Maybe it’s even more than kinship. Moira…She’s always been mine, you know. I don’t know how I could live if anything happened to her. If I didn’t stop it.”
Setting the weapons aside, Blair boosted herself up on the rear of the van. “It can’t be like that. That if the worst happened to her, to any of us, that you didn’t stop it. It’s up to each of us to do what we have to do to survive, and to do all we can to watch each other’s backs. But—”
“You don’t understand.” His eyes were fierce when they met hers. “She’s part of me.”
“No, I don’t understand, because I’ve never had anyone like that in my life. But I think I understand her well enough to know she’d be hurt, maybe even pissed off if she thought you felt responsible for her.”
“Not responsible. That makes it an obligation, and it’s not. It’s love. You know what that is, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I know what that is.” Annoyed, she started to jump down, but he moved, turning his body until it blocked hers. “Do you think I felt nothing for you, nothing, when we stood with our backs to the sea and those demons coming out of the dark? Did you think I felt nothing, so would go, would save myself, because you said to?”
“I didn’t know you were going to pull a dragon out of your hat, so—”
She broke off, went rigid when he reached out, gripped her chin in his hand. “Did you think I felt nothing,” he said again, and his eyes were deep and gold and thoughtful. “Feel nothing now?”
And hell, she thought. She’d boxed herself in.
“I’m not asking about your feelings,” she began.
“I’m telling you whether you ask or not.” He moved in a little closer, his legs planted on either side of hers, his eyes on her face. Curiously. “I can’t say I know what I feel as I don’t think I’ve felt it before. But there’s something when I look at you, now. When I see you in battle. Or when I watched you, just this morning watched you, moving like magic in the mist.”
As she’d felt something, she admitted, when she’d ridden on his back into battle. When she’d watched him light up over music. “This is a really bad idea.”
“I haven’t said I had an idea as yet. But I’ve feelings, so many of them I can’t seem to pick one out from the others and have a good look at it. And so…”
Her head jerked back as his bowed to hers. Her hand slapped on to his wrist.
“Oh, be still a moment,” he said with a half laugh. “And let me have a try at this. You can’t be afraid of something as easy as a kiss.”
Not afraid, but certainly wary. Certainly curious. She sat as she was, the fingers of one hand curled loosely on the back edge of the van, the others around his wrist.
His lips were soft on hers, just a whisper of contact. A brush, a rub, a light and teasing nip. She had a moment to think he was very good at this particular game before the mists floated over her mind.
Strong, he thought. He’d known there’d be strength, and it was a lovely jolt to the system. But there was sweetness as well; he hadn’t been sure of that. So that kissing her was like having wine running through his blood.
And there was need, what seemed to be a deep, simmering well of need in him. He hoped in her.
The kiss deepened so he heard the sound of her pleasure purr in her throat. So he felt that wonderful body of hers press, press and yield to his.
When he would have laid her back, back beside the swords, the axes, she put a hand to his chest and held him away.
“No.”
“I hear it plain enough, but no isn’t what I felt.”
“Maybe not, but it’s what I’m saying.”
He traced a finger from her shoulder to her wrist while his eyes searched her face. “Why?”
“I’m not sure why. I’m not sure, so it’s no.”
She turned, began to gather weapons.
“I’m wanting to ask a question.” He smiled when she glanced over her shoulder. “Do you wear your hair so short so I’ll be enchanted by the nape of your neck. The way it slopes there, it make me just want to…lick at it.”
“No.” Just listen to the way he uses that voice, she thought. The women of Geall must scamper after him like puppies. “I wear it short because it doesn’t give the enemy much to grab and pull if he wants to fight like a girl.” She turned back. “And it looks good on me.”
“It does, that it does. Like a faerie queen. I always thought, if they existed, they’d have strength and courage in their faces.”
He leaned toward her again, and she laid the blade of a sword against his chest.
He looked down at it, up at her. This time his smile was full of fun. “That’s a good bit more than no. I was just going to kiss you again. I wouldn’t ask for anything else. Just one more kiss.”
“You’re awful damn cute,” she said after a minute. “And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted. But because you’re awful damn cute and tempting, we’re going to leave it at one.”
“All right then, if that’s the way it has to be.” He reached past her, picked up an ax, the bucket of stakes. “But I’m just going to be thinking about another one. And so are you.”
“Maybe.” She started toward the house, arms loaded with weapons. “A little frustration will give me a nice edge.”
He shook his head as he looked after her. She was, he thought, the most fascinating of women.
Chapter 4
Blair went straight up to put the weapons in the training area, then went down the back stairs to the kitchen. Larkin could clean the swords, she decided. Work off some of that sexual energy.
She found Glenna there, and the kettle on.
“I’m making some tea, a blend that should take the edge off the day.”
“I’ve heard alcohol does that.” And
considering it, Blair opened the refrigerator for a beer.
“That’s for later—for me. My system’s a little twisted up yet. Hoyt went up to see Cian, fill him in.”
“Good. We need to talk, Glenna.”
“Could I take you through the steps and stages of the spells later, if you need them? It’s all a little too hard and bright just now.”
“No, I don’t need them—that’s your territory.” Blair boosted herself onto the table, watched Glenna keep her hands busy. “I mean that. When it comes to this area, I’m a civilian. There are some magically inclined, and fairly skilled people, in my family. But nowhere near what you guys have.”
“I have more than I did before. Maybe I’m more open to it now.” Taking a few pins out of her pocket, Glenna efficiently bundled her hair up. “Maybe it’s the connection with Hoyt, the connection we all have to each other. But whatever it is, I’m finding power inside me I never imagined.”
“Looks good on you, too. You need to know, to accept, to understand, what the three of you did today was amazing, and it was powerful, and it saved lives. And regardless of that, you have to know, accept and understand it isn’t something you can do again. At least not anytime soon.”
“We could get more, I think,” Glenna said without turning around. “Maybe only one or two at a time. We were greedy, we wanted to get all we could, and we burned it all too long.”
“Glenna, it’s your territory, like I said. But I’m the one who was looking at the three of you after the serious whammy went down. The fact is, both Larkin and I thought, for a minute there, you were dead. What you were was all but emptied out.”
“Yes, that’s exactly right. Exactly the right term for it.”
“You may not come back from it the next time.”
“Isn’t that why we’re here?” Glenna’s hands were steady now as she measured the tea leaves. “To risk it all? Isn’t it true that any one of us might not come back each time we walk out the door, each time we pick up a weapon? How many times have you picked up a weapon and the gift you have and risked it all?”
“I couldn’t count the times. This is different. You know it. Larkin and I…we need you. We need the rest of you strong and healthy.”
“You nearly died today, didn’t you?”
“Thanks to dragon-boy—”
“Blair.” Glenna turned, took the steps over and closed her hand tight over Blair’s.
Connections, Glenna had said, and Blair felt it now. You didn’t evade the truth, Blair decided, with someone you were so closely connected to.
“Okay, yeah, it was bad—bad enough I wasn’t sure we’d get out of it. But it could’ve been worse. We all did our jobs, and now I’m having a beer and you’re making tea. Good for us.”
“You’re better at this than I am,” Glenna murmured.
“No, I’m not. Just more used to it. Being used to it, I can have a beer because I know we not only beat her today, Glenna. We insulted her, and that feels tingly right down to my toes. And you know what I’d like?”
“I think I do. I think you’d like to go back there and do it all again.”
“Bet your ass I would. Nothing better, that’s the pure truth. But it would be stupid, self-indulgent, and it would probably get us all killed. Take the victory, Glenna, ’cause you sure as hell earned it. And accept you may not be able to do it just that way again.”
“I know it.” Glenna walked back to the stove when the water began to boil. “I know you’re right. It’s hard to accept you’re right. In the past few weeks, I’ve held magicks stronger than anything I ever dreamed existed. It thrills—and it costs. I know we’ll need more time, more preparation if we try to do what we did today again.”
She poured the water into the pot. “I thought we’d lost Moira,” she said quietly. “I felt her falling away, slipping. She’s not as strong magically as I am, certainly not as strong as Hoyt.” As the tea steeped, she turned back to face Blair. “We let her go. We let her go, only an instant before it exploded. I don’t know what would have happened to her if we’d held her in with us.”
“Would you have gotten so many out without her?”
“No, no we needed her.”
“Take the victory. It was a good day. One question though. How did you know where to send them? Not the magic stuff, just the logistics.”
“Oh, I had a map.” Glenna smiled a little. “I’d already calculated the quickest routes to hospitals, in case any of us needed one. So it was just a matter of, well, of following the map.”
“A map.” After a laugh, Blair took a deep drink. “You’re something, Glenna. You are something else. Vampire bitch had you on her team, I think we’d be sunk. Hell of a day,” she said with a sigh. “I rode on a freaking dragon.”
“It was cute, wasn’t it, how surprised he was we didn’t have any.” Chuckling now, easier now, Glenna got down cups and saucers. “What did he look like? I paint them sometimes.”
“Like you’d expect, I guess. He was gold. Long, wicked tail—took a couple of them out with it. And the body’s more sinuous than snakelike. Yeah, long and sinuous, the body, the tail, the head. Gold eyes. God, he was beautiful. And the wings, wide, peaked, translucent. Scales big as my hand, that went from pale gold to dark, and all the shades between. And fast? Holy God, he’s fast. It’s like riding the sun. I was just…”
She trailed off when she saw Glenna leaning back against the counter, smiling.
“What?”
“I was just wondering if you have that look in your eye over the dragon or over the man.”
“We’re talking dragon. But the man’s not half bad.”
“Gorgeous, fairly adorable, and with the heart of a champion.”
Blair raised her eyebrows. “Hey, didn’t you recently get married—to somebody else?”
“It didn’t strike me blind. Just FYI? Larkin gets that look in his eye, now and again, when he turns in your direction.”
“Maybe he does, and maybe I’ll think about taking him up on it one of these days. But right now…” She slid off the table. “I’m going to go upstairs and take a really long, really hot shower.”
“Blair? Sometimes the heart of a champion is tender.”
“I’m not looking to bruise hearts.”
“I was thinking of yours, too,” Glenna replied when she was alone.
Blair heard voices from the library as she passed, and veered just close enough to identify them. Satisfied that Larkin was speaking with Moira, she rerouted for the steps to head upstairs. She wanted nothing more than to wash away the sea salt, the blood and the death.
She paused at the top of the steps when she saw Cian in the shadows of the hallway. She knew her fingers had reached down to skim over the stake in her belt, and didn’t bother to pretend she hadn’t. It was knee-jerk. Hunter, vampire. They’d both have to accept it, and move on.
“A little early for you to be up and around, isn’t it?”
“My brother has no respect for my sleep cycle.”
There was something preternaturally sexual, she thought, about a vampire staring out from the cloaked light. Or there was with this one. “Hoyt had a rough one.”
“So I could see for myself. He looked ill. But then…” The smile was slow and deliberate. “He’s human.”
“Do you work on that kind of thing? The silky voice, the dangerous smile?”
“Born with it. Died with it, too. Are we going to come to terms, you and me?”
“I think we have.” She saw his gaze slide down to her hand, and the stake under it. “Can’t help it.” But she lifted the hand away, hooked her thumb in her belt. “It’s ingrained.”
“Do you enjoy your work?”
“I guess I do, on some level. I’m good at it, and you have to like doing what you’re good at. It’s what I do. It’s what I am.”
“Yes, we are what we are.” He stepped closer. “You look as she must have when she was your age. Younger, I suppose, she’d have been younger, ou
r Nola, when she looked as you did. Women wore down faster then.”
“A lot of times vampires look to family for their first kills.”
“Home’s the place you go where they have to take you in. Do you think any of the others in this house would be alive if I wanted them otherwise?”
“No.” So it was time for honesty. “I think you’d have played along with them for a few days, maybe a week. Get some jollies out of it. And wait until they trusted you, let their guards down. Then you’d have slaughtered them.”
“You think like a vampire,” he acknowledged. “It’s part of your skill. So, why haven’t I slaughtered the lot of them?”
She kept her eyes on his, struck suddenly by the fact it was nearly like looking into her own. Same color, same shape. “We are what we are. I guess that’s not what you are, or not anymore.”
“I killed my share in my day. But excepting that I once tried to kill my brother, I never touched my family. I can’t say why except I didn’t want their lives. You’re family, whether either of us is comfortable with that. You come from my sister. You have her eyes. And once I loved her, quite a lot.”
She felt something—not pity, it wasn’t something he asked for. But she felt a kind of understanding. Following the feeling, she drew the stake out of her belt, keeping the point toward her, and handed it to him. A look of bemusement passed over his face as he studied it.
“I’m not going to have to start calling you Uncle Cian, am I?”
He managed to grin and looked pained at the same time. “Please don’t.”
They parted ways, with Cian going downstairs, then into the kitchen. He found Glenna fussing with tea trays. She looked a little hollowed out, he thought, and shadowed around the eyes.
“Have you ever considered having someone else play mother?”
She jerked at his voice, clattering the cup she was holding onto the tray. “Guess I’m jumpy.” She reset the cup carefully in its saucer. “What did you say?”
“I wonder why one of the others can’t deal with food now and then.”
“They do. Well, Larkin’s slippery, but the others do. Anyway, it keeps me busy.”
“From what I’m told you’ve been busy with things nondomestic.”
“Hoyt spoke to you.”
“He seems to enjoy waking me in the middle of the day. Which is why I want coffee,” he added as he moved to the counter to make it. When he saw her frowning at the stake he set beside the pot, he shrugged. “A sort of peace offering, you could say, from Blair.”
“Oh, well, that’s good, isn’t it?”
He shifted, caught her chin in his hand. “Go lie down, Red, before you fall down.”
“That’s what the tea’s about. It’s a restorative. We need it. Batteries dead low here.” She managed a smile, but it faded quickly. “She brought a storm, Cian. She has someone with her who has enough power to call a storm, to block the sun, so we need to recharge those batteries. Hoyt and I have to work, and we need to work with Moira. We need to pull out what she has, help her hone it.”
She turned back, began to arrange cookies on pretty little plates, anything to keep her hands moving. “We were separated today, the three of us on the high cliffs, Blair and Larkin below. They could’ve been killed, and we couldn’t have helped them, couldn’t have stopped it. We didn’t see it coming because we were so focused on the transportation spell. And when it came, when the power whipped around and slapped us down, we were already tapped out.”
Suffering for it now, he thought. Humans always would suffer for what they’d done, and for what they hadn’t. “Now you have a better idea of your limits.”
“We’re not allowed to have limits.”
“Oh, bugger that, Glenna.” He snatched up a cookie. “Of course you have limits. You’ve expanded them, and likely you’ll push the box a bit wider before you’re done. She has limits as well, and that’s what you’re forgetting. Lilith has weaknesses, and is neither invulnerable nor omnipotent. Which you proved today by slipping five of her trophies out from under her.”
He bit into the cookie as he got down a mug.
“I know I should think of the five we saved. Blair said to take the victory.”