by Nora Roberts
“King called her that,” Glenna said quietly.
“Oh. Got it. Moira. Resistance training. We’re going to pump you up.”
“I’m sorry I spoke to you that way.”
“Look. We’re going to irritate each other a lot before this is done. I don’t bruise easily—literally or figuratively. You’re going to have to toughen up yourself. Five-pound free weights. You’re going to be cut by the time I’m done with you.”
Moira narrowed her eyes. “I may be sorry I lashed at you, but I’m not going to let you cut me.”
“No, it’s an expression. It means…” And every other term Blair could think of would be just as confusing. Instead she curled her arm, flexed her biceps.
“Ah.” A smile glimmered in Moira’s eyes. “Sure I’d like that. All right then, you can cut me.”
They worked a full morning. When Blair paused to gulp water from a bottle she nodded at Glenna. “You’re coming right along. Ballet lessons?”
“Eight years. Never thought I’d pirouette with a battle-ax, but life’s full of surprises.”
“Can you do a triple?”
“Not so far.”
“Look.” Still holding the bottle, Blair whipped her body around three times then shot her leg out to the side, up at a forty-five-degree angle. “That kind of momentum puts a good solid punch in a kick. You need solid to knock one of these things back. Practice. You’ve got it in you. So.” She took another swig. “Where’s the groom?”
“Hoyt? In the tower. There are things that need to be done. As important as what we’re doing here, Blair,” she added when she sensed disapproval.
“Maybe. Okay, maybe. If you come up with more stuff like the fire dagger.”
“We’ve fire charmed a number of the weapons.” She walked to another section of the room, took down a sword to bring it back. “Those that are charmed we’ve marked. See?”
On the blade near the hilt was a flame, etched into steel.
“Nice. Really. Can I try it?”
“Better take it outside.”
“Good point. Okay, we should break for an hour anyway. Grab something to eat. Cross- and longbows, boys and girls, after lunch.”
“I’ll come with you,” Glenna told her. “In case.”
Blair used the terrace doors, jogged down to ground level. She glanced at the straw dummy Larkin had hung from a post. You had to give it to the guy, she mused. He had a sense of humor. He’d drawn fangs on the stuffed face and a bright red heart on the chest.
It would be fun to test the fire sword out on it—and a waste of good material. No point burning up Vampire Dummy.
So she began in a fighting stance, her arm arched behind her head, the sword pointing out.
“It’s important to control it,” Glenna began. “To pull the fire when you need it. If you’re just slapping the burning sword around, you could burn yourself, or one of us.”
“Don’t worry.”
Glenna started to speak again, then shrugged. There was nothing and no one to hurt but the air.
Then she watched as Blair began to move, slowly, fluid as water, the sword like an extension of her arm. Yes, a kind of ballet, she thought, a lethal one. But nonetheless compelling. The blade shimmered when the sun struck its edge, but remained cool. Just as Glenna began to assume Blair needed coaching on how to use it, the woman thrust out, and the blade erupted.
“And you’re toast. God, I love this thing. Will you make me one, out of one of my personal weapons?”
“Absolutely.” Glenna lifted her brows as Blair swished the sword through the air and the fire died. “You learn fast.”
“Yeah, I do.” She frowned, scanning the sky. “Clouds boiling up in the west. Guess we’re in for more rain.”
“Good thing I planned an indoor wedding.”
“Good thing. Let’s go eat.”
Hoyt didn’t come down until late afternoon, and by that time Glenna had given herself permission to take time for herself. She didn’t want to do a quick glamour to look her best. She wanted to pamper herself, just a bit.
And she needed flowers to make the circlet for her hair, to make a bouquet. She’d made the facial cream herself, from herbs, so dabbed it on generously as she studied the sky from the bedroom window.
The clouds were moving in now. If she was going to get flowers, she had to get them before the sun was lost and the rain came. But when she opened the door to dash out, Moira and Larkin stood on the other side. He made some sound as his eyes widened, reminding her of the soft green goo on her face.
“It’s a female thing, just deal with it. I’m running behind. I haven’t got the flowers for my hair yet.”
“We…Well.” Moira brought her hand from behind her back and offered the circlet of white rosebuds with red ribbon braided through it. “I hope it’s all right, that it’s what you wanted. I know something red’s traditional for a handfasting. Larkin and I wanted to give you something, and we don’t have anything really, so we did this. But if you’d rather—”
“Oh, it’s perfect. It’s perfectly beautiful. Oh, thank you!” She grabbed Moira in a crushing hug, then turned a beaming smile up to Larkin.
“I’ve thought it wouldn’t be a hardship to have you kiss me,” he began, “but just at the moment…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll catch you later.”
“There’s this as well.” He handed her a nosegay of multicolored roses twined with more red ribbon. “To carry, Moira says.”
“Oh God, this is the sweetest thing.” Tears dribbled through the cream. “I thought this would be hard without family here. But I have family here, after all. Thank you. Thank you both.”
She bathed, scented her hair, creamed her skin. White candles burned as she performed the female ritual of preparing herself for a man. For her wedding, and her wedding night.
She was in her robe, brushing her fingers over the skirt of the dress that hung outside the wardrobe when someone knocked.
“Yes, come in. Unless you’re Hoyt.”
“Not Hoyt.” Blair came in carrying a bottle of champagne nestled in an ice bucket. Behind her, Moira brought in three flutes.
“Compliments of our host,” Blair told her. “I gotta say, he’s got some class for a vampire. This is prime bubbly we got here.”
“Cian sent champagne?”
“Yep. And I’m going to get down to popping this cork before we suit you up.”
“I have a wedding party. Oh, you should have dresses. I should’ve thought of it.”
“We’re fine. Tonight’s all about you.”
“I’ve never had champagne. Blair says I’ll like it.”
“Guaranteed.” Blair gave Moira a quick wink then popped the cork. “Oh, I got something for you. It’s not much, seeing as I don’t have your style with on-line shopping, but anyway.” She dug into her pocket. “I didn’t have a box either.”
She put the pin in Glenna’s hand. “It’s a claddaugh. Traditional Irish symbol. Friendship, love, loyalty. I’d’ve gone for the toaster or salad bowl, but time was limited. And I didn’t know where you’d registered.”
Another circle, Glenna thought. Another symbol. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” She turned, pinned it to the ribbon trailing from her bouquet. “Now I’ll carry both of your gifts with me.”
“I love sentiment. Especially with champagne.” Blair poured three glasses, passed them around. “To the bride.”
“And her happiness,” Moira added.
“And to the continuity represented by what we do tonight. To the promise of the future it represents. I’m going to get all the teary stuff out before I do my makeup.”
“Good plan,” Blair agreed.
“I know what I found with Hoyt is right, is mine. I know what we’re promising each other tonight is right, is ours. But having you here with me, that’s right, too. And it’s special. I want you to know it’s very special to me, having you share this.”
They touched glasses, drank, and Moira
closed her eyes. “Blair was right. I do like it.”
“Told ya. Okay, Moira, let’s you and me make ourselves a bride.”
Outside the rain splashed down and fog billowed. But in the house was candlelight and the scent of flowers.
Glenna stepped back from the mirror. “Well?”
“You look like a dream,” Moira stated. “Like a goddess in a dream.”
“My knees are shaking. I bet goddesses don’t get shaky knees.”
“Take a couple of deep breaths. We’ll go down, make sure everything’s set up. Including the lucky guy. You’re going to blow his socks off.”
“Why would she—”
“You know, sweetie,” Blair said to Moira as they started for the door. “You’re too literal. Start studying contemporary slang while you’re buried in books.” She pulled open the door, stopped short when she saw Cian. “This is girl territory.”
“I’d like a moment with my…future sister-in-law.”
“It’s all right, Blair. Cian. Please come in.”
He stepped inside, sent Blair a mild look over his shoulder, then shut the door in her face. Then he turned and took a long look at Glenna. “Well now, you’re a vision, aren’t you? Truly. My brother’s fortune leaps and bounds.”
“You probably think this is foolish.”
“You’d be wrong. While it may be something I think of as particularly human, it’s not one of the things I think of as foolish. Though there are many of those.”
“I love your brother.”
“Yes, a blind man could see that.”
“Thank you for the champagne. For thinking of it.”
“My pleasure. Hoyt’s ready for you.”
“Oh boy.” She pressed a hand to her jumpy belly. “I hope so.”
Cian smiled at that, stepped closer. “I have something for you. A wedding gift. I thought to put it in your hand as I assume, at least for now, you’d be in charge of the paperwork.”
“Paperwork?”
He handed her a thin leather portfolio. After opening it, she sent him a puzzled look. “I don’t understand.”
“It should be clear enough. It’s the deed to this house, the land. It’s yours.”
“Oh, but we can’t. When he asked if we could stay, he only meant—”
“Glenna, I only make grand gestures once every few decades, if the whim happens to strike me. Take it when it’s offered. It’s more to him than it could ever be to me.”
Her throat had filled so she had to wait to speak. “I know what it means to me. It will mean a great deal more to him. I wish you’d give it to him yourself.”
“Take it,” was all he said, then turned to the door.
“Cian.” She set the folder aside, picked up her bouquet. “Would you walk me down? Would you take me to Hoyt?”
He hesitated, then opened the door. Then held out a hand to her.
She heard music as they started down.
“Your handmaidens have been busy. I expected it of the little queen—a lot of sentiment there. But the hunter surprised me.”
“Am I shaking? I feel like I’m shaking.”
“No.” He tucked her hand into his arm. “You’re steady as a rock.”
And when she stepped into the room filled with candles and flowers, when she saw Hoyt standing in front of the low, gold flames of the fire, she felt steady.
They crossed the room to each other. “I’ve waited for you,” Hoyt whispered.
“And I for you.”
She took his hand, scanned the room. It was, as was traditional, madly decked with flowers. The circle had been formed, and the candles lighted, but for the ones they would light during the ritual. The willow wand lay on the table that served as altar.
“I made this for you.” He showed her a thick ring of silver, deeply etched.
“One mind,” she said, and drew the one she’d made him from her thumb.
They joined hands, walked to the altar. Touched fingers to the candles to light them. After slipping their rings onto the willow wand, they turned to face the others.
“We ask you to be our witnesses at this sacred rite,” Hoyt began.
“To be our family as we become one.”
“May this place be consecrated for the gods. We are gathered here in a ritual of love.”
“Beings of the Air be with us here, and with your clever fingers tie closely the bonds between us.” Glenna looked into his eyes as she spoke the words.
“Beings of the Fire be with us here…”
And they continued through Water, through Earth, the blessed goddess and laughing god. Her face was luminous as they spoke, as they lit incense, then a red candle. They sipped wine, scattered salt.
She and Hoyt held the wand with the rings gleaming on it between them.
The light grew warmer, brighter as they spoke to each other, the rings under their hands sparkling wildly.
“It is my wish to become one with this man.” She slipped the ring from the wand and onto his finger.
“It is my wish to become one with this woman.” He mirrored her gesture.
They took the cord from the altar, draped it over their joined hands.
“And so the binding is made,” they said together. “Then, as the goddess and the god and the old ones—”
A scream from outside shattered the moment like a rock through glass.
Blair leaped to a window, yanked back the drape. Even her nerves jolted at the vampire’s face only inches away behind the glass. But it wasn’t that which turned her blood cold; it was what she saw beyond it.
She looked over her shoulders at the others, and said: “Oh, shit.”
There were at least fifty, probably more, still in the forest or hidden nearby. Three cages sat on the grass, their occupants bloodied and shackled—and screaming now as they were dragged out.
Glenna shoved her way by to see, then groped behind her for Hoyt’s hand. “The blonde one. That’s the one who came to the door. When King—”
“Lora,” Cian said. “One of Lilith’s favorites. I had an…incident with her once.” He laughed when Lora hoisted a white flag. “And if you believe that, I’ve all manner of bridges you can buy.”
“They have people out there,” Moira added. “Injured people.”
“Weapons,” Blair began.
“Best wait—and see how best to use them.” Cian stepped away, and walked to the front door. Wind and rain sliced in when he opened it. “Lora,” he called out, almost conversationally. “Why you’re good and soaked, aren’t you now? I’d ask you and your friends in, but I still have my sanity and my standards.”
“Cian, it’s been too long. Did you like my present, by the way? I didn’t have time to wrap him.”
“Taking credit for Lilith’s work? That’s just sad. And you should tell her she’ll pay dearly for it.”
“Tell her yourself. You and your humans have ten minutes to surrender.”
“Oh? All of ten?”
“In ten minutes, we’ll kill the first of these.” She grabbed one of the prisoners by the hair. “Pretty, isn’t she? Only sixteen. Old enough to know better than to go walking along dark roads.”
“Please.” The girl wept, and the blood on her neck showed that something had already tasted her. “Please, God.”
“They’re always calling for God.” With a laugh, Lora threw the girl facedown on the sodden grass. “He never comes. Ten minutes.”
“Close the door,” Blair said quietly from behind him. “Close it. Okay, give me a minute. One minute to think.”
“They’ll kill them regardless,” Cian pointed out. “Bait is all they are.”
“That’s not the issue,” Glenna snapped. “We have to do something.”
“We fight.” Larkin drew one of the swords they’d stocked in an umbrella stand near the door.
“Hold your water,” Blair ordered.
“We don’t surrender, not to the likes of them.”
“We fight,” Hoyt agreed. �
�But not on their terms. Glenna, the shackles.”
“Yes, I can work that. I’m sure I can.”
“We need more weapons from upstairs,” Hoyt began.
“I said hold it.” Blair grabbed his arm. “You’ve been in a couple of skirmishes with vampires. That doesn’t prepare you. We’re not just charging out there and getting cut down like meat. You can work the shackles?”
Glenna drew a breath. “Yes.”
“Good. Moira, you’re upstairs, bows. Cian, they’ve probably got guards around the house. Pick a door, start taking them out, quiet as you can manage. Hoyt’s with you.”
“Wait.”
“I know how to do this,” she told Glenna. “Are you ready to use that ax?”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
“Get it. You’re up with Moira. They’ll have archers too, and they see a hell of lot better in the dark than we do. Larkin, you and me, we’re going to create a diversion. Moira, you don’t start picking them off until you get the signal.”
“What signal?”
“You’ll know it. One more thing. Those three out there, they’re already gone. All we can do is make a statement. You have to accept that chances are slim to none when it comes to saving any of them.”
“We have to try,” Moira insisted.
“Yeah, well, that’s what we’re here for. Let’s go.”
“Is that one of your trick swords?” Cian asked Hoyt as they approached the east door.
“It is.”
“Then keep it well away from me.” He touched his finger to his lips, eased open the door. For a moment, there was no sound, no movement but the rain. Then Cian was out, a blur of dark in the dark.
Even as he stepped out to follow, he saw Cian snap two necks and behead a third. “On your left,” Cian said quietly.
Hoyt pivoted and met what came at him with steel, and with fire.
Upstairs, Glenna knelt within the circle she’d cast and chanted. The silver around her throat, on her finger glowed brighter with every heartbeat. Moira crouched to the side of the open doorway, a quiver at her back, a bow in her hand.
Moira glanced back at her. “The shackles.”