by Nora Roberts
It was her greatest failure.
“You’re wise not to offer one. I’m a patient woman, Lora. I’ve waited more than a thousand years for what’s coming. But I won’t be insulted. I dislike having these people pick and pluck us off like flies.”
She threw herself into a chair, tapped her long red nails on its arms. “Speak, then. Tell me about this new one. This Hunter.”
“As the seers prophesied, my lady. The warrior of old blood. One of the hunters who has plagued our kind for centuries.”
“And you know this because?”
“She was too fast to be a mere human. Too strong. She knew what they were before they moved on her that night, and she was ready. She completes their number. The first stage is set.”
“My scholars said the black man was their warrior.”
“They were wrong.”
“Then what good are they?” Lilith heaved the necklace she still toyed with across the room. “How can I rule when I’m surrounded by incompetence? I want what’s due me. I want blood and death and beautiful chaos. Is it too much to ask that those who serve me be accurate on the details?”
For nearly four hundred years Lora had been by Lilith’s side. Friend, lover, servant. No one, she was sure, knew the queen better. She poured a glass of wine, carried it to the chair.
“Lilith.” She said it gently, offering both it and a kiss. “We’ve lost nothing important.”
“Face.”
“No, not even that. They only believe what they’ve done in these past weeks matters. It’s good they do, because it makes them overconfident. And we killed Cian’s boy, didn’t we?”
“We did.” Lilith pouted another moment, then sipped. “There was satisfaction in that.”
“And sending him to them only demonstrated your brilliance, and your strength. Let them take dozens of the meaningless foot soldiers. We cut their heart.”
“You’re a comfort to me, Lora.” Drinking her wine, Lilith stroked Lora’s hand. “And you’re right, of course, you’re right. I’m disappointed, I admit. I so wanted to break their number, to foil the prophecy.”
“But it’s better this way, isn’t it? And it’ll be the sweeter when you take them all.”
“Better, yes, better. And yet…I think we need to make a statement. It would improve my mood, and morale as well. I have an idea. I’ll think it through a bit.” She watched the wine swirl in her glass. “One day, one day soon, this will be the sorcerer’s blood. I’ll drink it from a silver cup, and nibble on sugar plums between sips. All that he is will be in me, and all that I am will make even the gods tremble.
“Leave me now. I need to plan.”
As Lora rose to go to the door, Lilith tapped on her glass. “Oh, and this irritating business has made me hungry. Bring me someone to eat, will you?”
“Right away.”
“Make sure it’s fresh.” Alone she closed her eyes and began to plot. While she plotted, the screams and squeals from the next chamber battered the cave walls.
Her lips curved. Who could be blue, she thought, with a child’s laughter ringing in the air?
Moira sat cross-legged on Glenna’s bed and watched Glenna work on the magic little machine she called a laptop. Moira was desperate to get her hands on it. There were worlds of knowledge inside, and so far she’d only been allowed a few peeks.
She’d been promised a lesson, but just at the moment, Glenna seemed so absorbed—and they only had an hour free.
So she cleared her throat.
“What do you think of this one?” Glenna asked and tapped the image of a woman wearing a long white dress.
Angling her head for a better view, Moira studied the screen. “She’s very lovely. I was wondering—”
“No, not the model, the dress.” Glenna scooted around on the chair. “I need a dress.”
“Oh, did something happen to yours?”
“No.” With a little laugh Glenna twisted the pendant around her neck. “I need a very special dress. A wedding dress. Moira, Hoyt and I are going to be married. Handfasted. We decided on handfasting, with a wedding ceremony later. After.”
“You’re betrothed to Hoyt? I didn’t know.”
“It just happened. I know it might seem rushed, and the timing of it—”
“Oh, but this is wonderful!” Moira sprang up, and in a burst of enthusiasm, threw her arms around Glenna. “I’m so happy for you. For all of us.”
“Thanks. For all of us?”
“Weddings, they’re bright, aren’t they? Bright and happy and human. Oh, I wish we were home so I could have a feast made. You can’t make your own wedding feast, and I’m still not very good at the cooking.”
“We won’t worry about that, not yet. Weddings are bright—and happy and human. And I’m human enough to want the perfect dress.”
“Well, of course. Why would you want less?”
Glenna let out a long, happy sigh. “Thank God. I’ve been feeling a little shallow. I should’ve known all I needed was another girl. Help me, will you? I have a few picked out, and I need to narrow it down.”
“I’d love to.” Gently, curiously, she tapped the side of the screen. “But…how do you get the dress out of the box?”
“We’ll get to that, too. I’m going to have to take a few shortcuts. But later, I’ll show you how to shop online the conventional way. I want something—I think—along these lines.”
While they were huddled, Blair gave the doorjamb a knuckle rap. “Sorry. You got a minute, Glenna? I wanted to talk to you about requisitions and supplies. Figured you were the go-to. Hey. Nice toy.”
“One of my favorites. Cian and I are the only ones linked up, so if you need to use—”
“Brought my own, but thanks. Shopping? Neiman’s,” she said as she moved close enough to see the screen. “Pretty fancy duds for wartime.”
“Hoyt and I are getting married.”
“No kidding? That’s great.” She gave Glenna a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Congratulations. So when’s the big day?”
“Tomorrow night.” When Blair only blinked, Glenna hurried on. “I know how it must seem, but—”
“I think it’s terrific. I think it’s excellent. Life can’t stop. We can’t let it. We can’t let them make it stop; that’s the whole point. Plus, it’s great, seriously great, that the two of you found what you’ve got when everything’s so extreme. It’s one of the things we’re fighting for, right?”
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
“Wedding dress?”
“A potential. Blair, thank you.”
Blair put a hand on Glenna’s shoulder in a gesture that might have been woman-to-woman or soldier-to-soldier. Glenna supposed it was now one and the same.
“I’ve been fighting for thirteen years. I know better than anyone you need some real, you need things that matter, and that warm you up inside, or you lose the mission. I’ll let you get back to it.”
“Want to help us shop?”
“Really?” Blair did a little shuffle dance. “Are vampires blood-sucking fiends? I’m so in. One thing, not to put the damper, but how are you going to get the dress here by tomorrow?”
“I’ve got my ways. And I’d better get started. Would you mind closing the door? I don’t want Hoyt coming in while I’m trying them on.”
“Trying…Sure.” Blair obliged while Glenna set several crystals on and around the laptop. She lit candles, then stood back, held her arms out to the side.
“Mother Goddess, I ask your grace to bring this garment to this place. Through the air, from there to here, in the light unto my sight a symbol of my destiny. As I will so mote it be.”
With a shimmer and flash, Glenna’s jeans and T-shirt were replaced by the white gown.
“Wow. A whole new level of shoplifting.”
“I’m not stealing it.” Glenna’s scowled at Blair. “I’d never use my powers that way. I’m trying it on, and when I find the one, I’ve got another spell to work the sale. It’s just to sav
e time, which I don’t have.”
“Don’t get bent. I was just kidding.” Sort of. “Will that work for weapons if we need more?”
“I suppose it would.”
“Good to know. Anyway, great dress.”
“It’s lovely,” Moira agreed. “Just lovely.”
Glenna turned, studied her reflection in the antique cheval glass. “Thank God Cian didn’t strip all the mirrors out of this place. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I love the lines. But…”
“It’s not the one,” Blair finished, and settled down on the bed with Moira to watch the show.
“Why do you say that?”
“It doesn’t light you up. That light, in the gut, in the heart, that just spreads out right to your fingertips. You put on your wedding dress, take one look at yourself in it and you know. The others are just practice.”
So it had gotten that far, Glenna thought, remembering the vision of Blair and the engagement ring on her finger. And the image of her weeping in the dark, her hand bare.
She started to comment, then said nothing. A tender area like that required more than camaraderie. It needed true friendship, and they weren’t there yet.
“You’re right, it’s not the one. I’ve got four more picked out. So we’ll try number two.”
She hit it on the third, and felt that light glowing. Heard it in Moira’s long, wistful sigh.
“And we have a winner.” Blair circled her finger. “Do the turn. Oh, yeah, that one’s yours.”
It was romantic, and simple, Glenna thought. Just as she’d hoped. There was a little float in the long skirt, and the soft sweetheart neckline was framed by two thin straps that left her shoulders bare then ran down her shoulder blades to spotlight her back.
“It’s so exactly right.” She glanced at the price again, winced. “Well, maxing out my credit card doesn’t seem that big a deal considering the possible apocalypse.”
“Seize the day,” Blair agreed. “You doing a veil, a headpiece?”
“Traditional Celtic handfastings call for a veil, but in this case…Just flowers, I think.”
“Even better. Soft, earthy, romantic and sexy all rolled into one. Do the deal.”
“Moira?” Glenna looked over, saw Moira’s eyes were damp and dreamy. “I can see it has your vote, too.”
“I think you’ll be the most beautiful of brides.”
“Well, this was serious fun.” Blair got to her feet. “And I agree with the brain trust here—you look outstanding. But you need to wrap it up.” She tapped her watch. “The two of you are due in training. You need some major hand-to-hand practice. Why don’t you come with me now?” she said to Moira. “We can get started.”
“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Glenna told them, then turned back to study herself in the glass.
From wedding dresses to combat, she thought. Her life had become a very strange ride.
Because he heard the music playing inside, Hoyt knocked on Cian’s door a little before sundown. There’d been a time, he remembered, he wouldn’t have thought of knocking, when asking permission to enter his brother’s chambers wouldn’t have been necessary.
A time, he thought, he wouldn’t have needed to ask his brother if he could live with his wife in his own home.
Locks clicked and snicked. Cian wore only loose pants and a sleepy expression when he opened the door. “A bit early for me, for visiting.”
“I need a private word with you.”
“Which, of course, can’t wait on my convenience. Come in then.”
Hoyt stepped into a room that was pitch black. “Must we speak in the dark?”
“I can see well enough.” But Cian switched on a low light beside a wide bed. The covers on the bed gleamed jewel-like in that light, and the sheets carried the sheen of silk. Cian moved to a cold box, took out a packet of blood. “I haven’t had breakfast.” He tossed the packet into the microwave sitting on top of the box. “What do you want?”
“When this is done, what do you intend to do?”
“As I choose, as always.”
“To live here?”
“I think not,” Cian said with a half laugh, and took a crystal glass from a shelf.
“Tomorrow night…Glenna and I are to be handfasted.”
There was a slight hesitation in his rhythm, then Cian set the glass down. “Isn’t that interesting? I suppose congratulations are in order. And you intend to take her back, introduce her to the family. Ma, Da, this is my bride. A little witch I picked up a few centuries from now.”
“Cian.”
“Sorry. The absurdity of it amuses me.” He took the package out, broke it open and poured the warmed contents into the glass. “Well, anyway. Sláinte.”
“I can’t go back.”
After the first sip, the first long stare over the rim, Cian lowered the glass. “More and more interesting.”
“It’s no longer my place, knowing what I know. Waiting for the day to come when I know they’ll die. If you could go back, would you?”
Cian frowned into his glass, then sat. “No. For thousands of reasons. But that would be one of them. But that aside, you brought this war to me. Now you take time from it to handfast?”
“Human needs don’t stop. They’re only keener, it seems, when the end of days threaten.”
“It happens that’s true. I’ve seen it countless times. It also happens war brides don’t always make reliable wives.”
“That’s for me and for Glenna.”
“It certainly is.” He raised his glass, drank some more. “Well then, good luck to you.”
“We want to live here, in this house.”
“In my house?”
“In the house that was ours. Setting aside my rights, and our kinship, you’re a businessman. You pay a caretaker when you’re not in residence. You’d no longer have that expense. Glenna and I would tend this place and the land, at no cost to you.”
“And how do you propose to make a living? There isn’t much demand for sorcerers these days. Wait, I take it back.” Cian laughed, finished off the blood. “You could make a goddamn fortune on television, on the Internet. Get yourself an nine-hundred number, a web site, and off you go. Not your style though.”
“I’ll find my way.”
Cian set the glass aside, looked off into the shadows. “Maybe I hope you do, providing you live, of course. I’ve no problem with you staying in the house.”
“Thanks for that.”
Cian shrugged. “It’s a complicated life you’ve chosen for yourself.”
“And I intend to live it. I’ll let you get dressed.”
A complicated life, Cian thought again when he was alone. And it stunned and annoyed him that he could envy it.
Chapter 21
Glenna figured most brides were a little stressed and very busy on their weddings days. But most brides didn’t have to fit in sword practice and spells between their facials and pedicures.
At least the pace cut down on the time for the nerves she’d had no idea she’d have. She couldn’t squeeze in much of an anxiety attack when she was worried about flower arrangements, romantic lighting and the proper form for beheading a vampire.
“Try this.” Blair started to toss the weapon, then obviously changed her mind when Glenna’s mouth dropped open. She walked it over. “Battle-ax. More heft than a sword, which would work better for you, I think. You got pretty decent upper body strength, but you’d cut through easier with this than a sword. You need to get used to its weight and its balance. Here.”
She walked back, picked up her own sword. “Block me with it.”
“I’m not used to it. I could miss, hurt you.”
“Believe me, you won’t hurt me. Block!” She thrust out, and more from instinct than obedience, Glenna clanged the ax to the sword.
“Now see, I’d just stab you cheerfully in the back while you’re fumbling to turn.”
“It’s top heavy,” Glenna complained.
“It’s not.
Spread out your grip more for now. Okay, stay forward after the first strike. Come down on the sword, back up at me. Slow. One,” she said and thrust. “Two. Again, keep it coming. You want to counter my moves, sure, but what you want is to throw me off balance, to make me counter yours, force me to follow your moves. Think of it as a dance routine where you not only want to lead, but you also really want to kill your partner.”
Blair held up a hand, stepped back. “Let me show you. Hey, Larkin. Come be the practice dummy.” She tossed him her sword, hilt up, then took the battle-ax. “Take it slow,” she told him. “This is a demo.”
She nodded. “Attack.”
As he moved on her, she called out the steps. “Strike, strike, turn. Thrust up, across, strike. He’s good, see?” she said, still calling out to Glenna. “So he’s pushing at me while I push at him. So you ad lib as necessary. Turn, kick, strike, strike, pivot. Slice!”
She flipped the dagger strapped to her wrist and swiped it an inch from Larkin’s belly. “When his guts are spilling out, you—”
And dodged back from the swipe of what looked like a very large bear claw.
“Wow.” She rested the head of her ax on the floor, leaned on the handle. Only his arm had changed shape. “You can do that? Just pieces of you?”
“If I like.”
“I bet the girls back home can’t get enough of you.”
It took him a moment—she’d already turned to go back to Glenna—then he burst into delighted laughter. “Sure that’s the truth. But not due to what you’re meaning. I prefer my own shape for that kind of sport.”
“Bet. Square off with Larkin. I’m going to work with Shorty for a while.”
“Don’t call me that,” Moira snapped.
“Lighten up. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Moira opened her mouth, then shook her head. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”