Nora Roberts's Circle Trilogy

by Nora Roberts

  “Search me. It’s a knife, a nice one. It stabs, it hacks, it slices. Does the job. You start counting on magic, you can get sloppy. Then somebody puts that pointy end into you.”

  “You have magic in your blood,” Hoyt pointed out to her. “You should have respect for it.”

  “Didn’t say otherwise. I’m just more comfortable with sharp implements than voodoo.”

  “Voodoo is a different matter entirely,” Glenna snapped. “Just because you can throw a knife doesn’t mean you don’t need what Hoyt and I can give you.”

  “No offense—seriously. But I count on myself first. And if you can’t fight with that, you should leave the combat to the ones who can.”

  “You think I can’t hit that stupid target?”

  Blair sipped more coffee. “I don’t know. Can you?”

  Riding on insult, Glenna turned, and with curses running through her head flung the knife.

  It hit the outer circle. And burst into flame.

  “Excellent.” Blair lowered her coffee. “I mean your aim’s for shit, but the fire show is very cool.” She gestured with the mug. “Probably going to need a new target though.”

  “I was pissed off,” Glenna mumbled. “Anger.” She turned her excited face to Hoyt’s. “Adrenaline. We weren’t angry before. I was happy. She pissed me off.”

  “Always happy to help.”

  “It’s a fine charm, a good weapon.” He laid a hand on Glenna’s shoulder as the target burned. “How long will the flame last?”

  “Oh! Wait.” She stepped away, centered herself. Calmed, she put out the fire in her mind. The flame flickered out to smoke.

  “It needs work. Obviously, but…” She went back to the target, gingerly tested the dagger’s hilt. It was warm, but not too hot to touch. “It could give us a real edge.”

  “Damn straight,” Blair agreed. “Sorry about the voodoo crack.”

  “Accepted.” Glenna sheathed the dagger. “I’m going to ask you for a favor, Blair.”

  “Ask away.”

  “Hoyt and I need to get to work on this now, but later today…Could you teach me to throw a knife like you do?”

  “Maybe not like me.” Blair grinned. “But I can teach you to throw it better than you do, less like you’re shooing pigeons.”

  “There’s more,” Hoyt said. “Cian takes charge of the training after sunset.”

  “A vampire training humans to kill vampires.” Blair shook her head. “There’s some sort of strange logic in there. Okay, so?”

  “We train in the day as well—a few hours. Outside if the sun holds.”

  “From what I saw last night, you can use all you can get. And don’t take insult,” Blair added. “I work on it a couple hours a day myself.”

  “The one in charge of our daylight training…we lost him. Lilith.”

  “Rough. I’m sorry, it’s always rough.”

  “I think you’d be the best to lead that training now.”

  “Give you guys orders, make you sweat?” Sheer pleasure shone on her face. “Sounds like fun. Just remember you asked when you start to hate me. Where are the others anyway? Daylight shouldn’t be wasted.”

  “I imagine Moira’s in the library,” Glenna told her. “Larkin took the horse out a little while ago. Cian—”

  “I got that part. Okay, I’m going to do a little scouting around, get the lay a little better. We’ll get the party started when I get back.”

  “The trees are thick.” Glenna nodded toward the curve of the forest. “You shouldn’t go too far in, even during the day.”

  “Don’t worry.”

  Chapter 20

  Blair liked the woods. She liked the smell of them, the look of the big-trunked trees, the play of light and shadow that, for her, made a kind of visual music. The forest floor was carpeted with leaves that had fallen over countless years, and the fairy green of moss. The stream that ran glinting through it only added to that fairy-tale quality. It was slender and curvy, making more music with the water singing over rock.

  She’d been to Clare before, had wandered field and forest and hill, and wondered how she’d missed this place if it truly was her beginnings. She supposed she hadn’t been meant to find it before, to walk here. To know.

  It was now, with these people, in this place.

  The witch and the wizard, she mused. They were so full of love, all shiny and new, they all but glistened with it.

  Advantage or disadvantage—she’d have to wait and see.

  But she knew one thing. She wanted Glenna to make her a fire dagger.

  The witch was okay. Great hair, too, and an urban sense of style that showed through even with simple pants and shirts. Lot of smarts going on in there, if Blair was any judge. And she was. She’d gone out of her way to be welcoming, it seemed, the night before. Fixing food, fluffing up the room she’d assigned to Blair.

  It was a lot more than she was used to. And it was nice.

  The wizard seemed to be on the intense side. Did a lot of watching, didn’t have a lot to say. She could respect that. Just as she could, and did, respect the power he wore like skin.

  As for the vampire, she was in a holding pattern there. He would be a formidable ally, or foe—and to date, she’d never considered a vamp any kind of ally. Still, she’d seen something in his face when his brother had spoken of Nola. It had been pain.

  The other woman was quiet as a mouse. Watchful, oh yeah, and a little on the soft side yet. She hadn’t made up her mind about Blair any more than Blair had about her.

  And the guy? Larkin. Some serious eye-candy. He had a good, athletic build that should make him an asset in a fight. Boiling with energy, too, she thought. The shape-shifting deal could come in handy, if he was any good at it. She’d have to ask for a demo.

  It was a lot—they were a lot—to whip into shape in a very short time. She’d have to be up to it if any of them were going to make it out of this alive.

  But for now, it was nice to take a morning stroll through the trees, listening to the water sing, watching the light dance.

  She skirted around a rock, cocked her head at what was curled sleeping under its shadow.

  “This is your morning wake-up call,” she said, and pulled the trigger on the crossbow she carried.

  The vampire barely had time to open its eyes.

  She retrieved the arrow, set it again.

  She took out three more, disturbing another who sprinted off down the path, dodging beams of thin sunlight. Without a clear shot, and unwilling to waste an arrow, she took off after him.

  The horse leaped onto the path, a gleaming black beast, with the gilded god on its back. Larkin sliced down with his sword, and beheaded the fleeing vampire.

  “Nice job,” she called out.

  Through streams of sunlight, Larkin trotted the horse toward her. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Killing vampires. You?”

  “The horse needed a run. You shouldn’t be out here alone, so far from the house.”

  “You are.”

  “They couldn’t catch this one.” He patted Vlad on the neck. “He’s the wind. So then, how many have you seen?”

  “The four I killed, and yours makes five. There are probably more.”

  “Four others, you say? Aren’t you the busy one. Do you want to hunt them now?”

  He looked up to it, but she couldn’t be sure. Working with an unknown partner was a good way to die, even if that partner showed a wicked skill with a sword. “That should do it for now. One of them, at least, will run back to Mommy and report we’re taking them out of their nests during the day. Should tick her off.”

  “Tick?”

  “Annoy her.”

  “Ah. Aye, there’s that.”

  “Anyway, we need to do some training so I can see what you’re made of.”

  “You can see?”

  “I’m your new sergeant.” She could see he wasn’t thrilled with that news—and who could blame him? But she held up
a hand. “How about a lift, cowboy?”

  He reached down, and with a clasp of hands to forearms, she vaulted up behind him.

  “How fast will this guy move?” she asked.

  “You’d best hold on, and tight.”

  A tap of his heels sent the horse flying.

  Glenna rubbed her thumb and finger together over the cauldron to add another pinch of sulfur to the mix. “A little at a time,” she said absently to Hoyt. “We don’t want to overdo it and end up—”

  She jerked back as the liquid flashed.

  “Mind your hair,” Hoyt warned.

  She grabbed some pins, bundled it hastily on top of her head. “How’s it coming there?”

  Inside the metal trough, the dagger continued to burn. “The fire’s still unstable. We have to tame it or we’ll burn ourselves as well as vampyres.”

  “It’s going to work.” She took a sword, slid it into the liquid. Stepping back, she held her hands in the smoke and began her chant.

  He stopped what he was doing to watch her, to study the beauty that came into her with the magic. What had his life been before she’d come into it? With no one with whom he could fully share what he was, not even Cian? With no one to look into his eyes in a way that made his heart shine?

  Fire licked at the edges of the cauldron, shimmied up the sword, and still she stood, in the smoke and the flame. Her voice like music, her power like dance.

  When the flames died, she removed the sword with tongs, set it aside to cure and cool.

  “Each has to be done separately. I know it’s going to take time, days, but in the end…what?” she said when she caught him staring at her. “Have I got magic soot all over my face?”

  “No. You’re beautiful. When will you marry me?”

  She blinked in surprise. “I thought after, when it’s over.”

  “No, I don’t want to wait. Every day is a day less, and every day is precious. I want us to be married here, in this house. Before long, we’ll travel to Geall, and then…It should be here, Glenna, in the home we’ll make.”

  “Of course it should. I know your family can’t be here, except for Cian and Blair. Neither can mine. But when it’s over, Hoyt. When everyone’s safe again, I’d like another ritual here, I’d like my family here then.”

  “A handfasting now, a wedding ceremony after. Would that suit?”

  “Perfect. I’d—now? As in now? I can’t be ready now. I have to…do things first. I need a dress.”

  “I thought you preferred your rituals skyclad.”

  “Very funny. A few days. Say the coming full moon.”

  “The end of the first month.” He nodded. “It seems right. I want to—what is all that shouting?”

  They walked to the window to see Blair going toe-to-toe with Larkin. Moira stood, hands fisted on her hips.

  “Speaking of rituals,” Glenna commented. “Looks like the head-butting portion of the daily training’s started without us. We’d better get down there.”

  “She’s slow and she’s sloppy, and slow and sloppy get you dead.”

  “She’s neither,” Larkin shot back at Blair. “But her strengths lie in her bow and in her mind.”

  “Great, she can think a vamp to death. Let me know how that works out. As for the bow, yeah, eye like an eagle, but you can’t always kill at a distance.”

  “I can speak for myself well enough, Larkin. And you—” Moira jabbed a finger at Blair. “I don’t care to be spoken to as if I were addle-brained.”

  “I’ve got no problem with your brain, but I’ve got a big one with your sword arm. You fight like a girl.”

  “So I am.”

  “Not during training, not during battle. Then you’re a soldier, and the enemy doesn’t give a rat’s ass about your plumbing.”

  “King had her working on her strengths.”

  “King’s dead.”

  There was a moment of utter silence that couldn’t have been sliced through with Cian’s battle-ax. Then Blair sighed. That, she could admit, had been unnecessarily harsh.

  “Look, what happened to your pal is terrible. I sure as hell don’t want it to happen to me. If you don’t want it to happen to you, you’ll work on your weaknesses—and you’ve got plenty. You can play with your strengths on your own time.”

  She planted her feet as Hoyt and Glenna came to join them. “Did you put me in charge of this?” Blair demanded.

  “I did,” Hoyt affirmed.

  “And we’ve nothing to say about it?” Fury tightened Larkin’s face. “Nothing at all?”

  “You don’t, no. She’s the best for it.”

  “Because she’s your blood.”

  Blair rounded on Larkin. “Because I can put you on your ass in five seconds flat.”

  “Sure of that, are you?” He shimmered and changed, and the wolf he became crouched and snarled.

  “Excellent,” Blair said under her breath, with temper smothered by pure admiration.

  “Oh, Larkin, leave off, would you?” Obviously out of patience, Moira slapped a hand at him. “He’s only angry because you were rude to me. And you’ve no cause to be so insulting. It happens I agree with you about working on the weaknesses.” And Cian had said the same, Moira recalled. “I’m willing to practice, but I won’t be after standing and being berated while I’m about it.”

  “More flies with honey than vinegar?” Blair said. “I always wondered why the hell anyone would want to catch flies. Look, you and I can paint our toenails and talk about boys when we’re off the clock. While I’m training you, I’m the bitch because I want you alive. Does it hurt when you do that?” Blair asked Larkin when he changed back. “Shifting bones and organs and so on?”

  “Some actually.” He couldn’t recall anyone ever asking him. His temper cooled as quickly as it had flared. “But it’s fun, so I don’t mind so much.”

  He slung his arm around Moira’s shoulder, gave her arm a little rub as he spoke to Hoyt and Glenna. “Your girl here took out four of them in the forest. I took a fifth myself.”

  “This morning? Five?” Glenna stared at Blair. “How close to the house?”

  “Close enough.” Blair glanced toward the woods. “Lookouts, I figure, and not very good ones. Caught them napping. Lilith’s going to get word of it. She’s going to be unhappy.”

  It wasn’t a matter of killing the messenger; not in Lilith’s long-standing opinion. It was a matter of killing it as painfully as possible.

  The young vampire who’d foolishly gone back to the nest after Blair’s morning foray was now on a slow roast, belly-down, over a simmering fire. The smell wasn’t particularly pleasant, but Lilith understood command required certain sacrifices.

  She circled him now, careful to keep the hem of her red gown away from the lick of flames. “Why don’t we go over this again?” Her voice was melodious, somewhat like a devoted teacher speaking to a favored student. “The human—female—destroyed everyone I’d posted, save you.”

  “The man.” Pain turned the words to guttural rasps. “The horse.”

  “Yes, yes. I keep forgetting the man and the horse.” She stopped to study the rings she wore. “The one who came along after she’d already cut down—what was it now—four of you?”

  She crouched down, a spider of stunning beauty, to stare into his red, wheeling eyes. “And she was able to do this because? Wait, wait, I remember. Because you were sleeping?”

  “They were. The others. I was at post, Majesty. I swear it.”

  “At post, and yet, this single female human lives. Lives because—do I have this detail correct? Because you ran?”

  “Came back…to report.” Its sweat dripped into the fire, and sizzled. “The others, they ran away. They ran. I came to you.”

  “So you did.” She tapped him playfully on the nose with each word, then rose. “I suppose I should reward your loyalty.”

  “Mercy. Majesty, mercy.”

  She turned around with a silky rustle of skirts to smile at the boy who
sat cross-legged on the floor of the cave, systematically ripping the heads off a pile of Star Wars action figures.

  “Davey, if you break all your toys, what will you have to play with?”

  His lips moved to pout as he beheaded Anikin Skywalker. “They’re boring.”

  “Yes, I know.” She ran a loving hand over his sunny hair. “And you’ve been cooped up too long, haven’t you?”

  “Can we go outside now?” He bounced, and his eyes went round and wide at the prospect of a promised treat. “Can we go outside and play? Please!”

  “Not quite yet. Now don’t sulk.” She tipped his chin up to peck a kiss on his lips. “What if your face froze like that? Here now, my sweet boy, what if I gave you a brand-new toy?”

  Round cheeks bright with temper, he snapped Han Solo in two. “I’m tired of toys.”

  “But this will be a new one. Something you’ve never had before.” She turned her head, and with her finger still on his chin, turned his until they both looked at the vampire over the fire pit.

  And on the spit, seeing their eyes, it began to struggle and thrash. And weep.

  “For me?” Davey said brightly.

  “All for you, my own dumpling. But you must promise Mama not to get too close to the fire. I don’t want you burned, my precious one.” She kissed his little fingers before she rose.

  “Majesty, I beg you! Majesty, I came back to you.”

  “I dislike failure. Be a good boy, Davey. Oh, and don’t spoil your dinner.” She gestured to Lora, who stood quietly by the door.

  The screams began before it was closed behind them. And locked.

  “The Hunter,” Lora began. “It had to be. None of the other women have the skill to—”

  A single look from Lilith silenced her. “I haven’t given you leave to speak. My fondness for you is all there is between you and the pit. And my affections only go so far.”

  Lora bowed her head in deference and followed Lilith into the adjoining chamber. “You lost three of my good men. What can you say to that?”

  “I have no excuse.”

  With a nod, Lilith roamed the chamber, idly picking a ruby necklace from the top of a chest. The single thing she missed of life was mirrors. She longed, even after two millennia, to see herself reflected. To be wooed by her own beauty. She had hired—and fed on—countless sorcerers, witches and magicians over the centuries to make it so.