Dance of the Gods
Page 21
“Okay, maybe not. Maybe something that extends the perimeters, creates a safe area around the house itself.”
“We’ve tried.” Hoyt laid his hand over Glenna’s. “We haven’t been able to find the way.”
“Something to work on. It would be another layer. The more layers they have to get through the better. Think vamp-free zone.”
“Perhaps I should move into a nice B and B,” Cian suggested, and had Blair frowning at him until she understood.
“Oh. Oh, right. Sorry. Forgot. Can’t have a vamp-free zone with a vamp in residence.”
“We haven’t been able to find a way to exclude him from it,” Glenna explained. “We have a few ideas. More like concepts than actual ideas,” she admitted. “And Hoyt’s been working for some time on conjuring a kind of shield for you, Cian, so that you could go outside during the day. In the sun.”
“Others have tried and failed on that. It can’t be done.”
“People used to believe the world was flat,” Blair pointed out.
“True enough.” Cian shrugged. “But I’d think if it could be done it would have been in the thousands of years since our existence. And experimenting with it at this point isn’t the best use of time.”
“It’s my time,” Hoyt said quietly.
“We could have used you today.” Glenna spoke after a long beat of silence. “In Kerry, at the cliffs. It’s worth the time. We think we’d have more success if we had some of your blood.”
“Oh?” Cian said dryly. “Is that all?”
“Think about it. Still, our first priority will be protection. Hoyt and I will put that together.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “Why don’t we get started?”
“Meanwhile, nobody sleeps until we have protection. I’ve got some extra crosses, some holy water, in my gear.” Blair got to her feet. “Cian, unless you’re planning to go out, I’d like to set up basic precautions at doors and windows.”
“Have at it. But those kind of trinkets won’t supercede an invitation.”
“Layers,” Blair said again.
“I’ll help you.” Larkin pushed his plate aside. “There’s a lot of doors and windows.”
“All right, so it looks like we split into teams. Hoyt and Glenna, magic time. Larkin and I will do what we can to block entrances. That leaves Cian and Moira on KP.”
I t wasn’t that she didn’t trust Hoyt and Glenna—she did as much as she’d ever trusted anyone. It wasn’t that she wasn’t open to magic. She had to be.
But even with the charm under her pillow, the candle lit, and the second charm hanging with the cross at her window, Blair slept fitfully that night.
And the night after.
The training helped, the sheer physical exertion of it, and the purpose. She pushed, and pushed hard. No one, including herself, ended any day without bruises and sore muscles. But no one, including herself, ended any day without being just a little stronger, just a little faster.
She watched Moira blossom—or thought of it that way. What Moira didn’t have in strength she made up for in speed and flexibility. And sheer determination.
There was no one who could compete with her when she had a bow in her hands.
Glenna polished the skills she already had—the canniness, the solid instincts. And she was coming along with a blade and an ax.
Hoyt brought an intensity to everything. Whether he fought with a blade, with a bow or with his own hands, he had an almost unwavering focus. She thought of him as the most reliable of soldiers.
And Cian as the most elegant, and vicious. He had the superior strength of his kind, and the animal’s cunning, but he added style to it all. He would kill, Blair thought, with violent grace.
She thought of Larkin as the utility player. In hand-to-hand, he was a scrapper, and simply didn’t give up. He lacked Hoyt’s intensity and Cian’s elegance with a sword, but he fought tirelessly until he downed his opponents, or they simply dropped from exhaustion. He had a good eye with the bow—not Moira’s, but who did?
And you never knew when he’d pull out one of his little tricks, so you’d end up battling with a man who had the head of a wolf, or the claws of a bear, the tail of dragon.
It was handy, and effective.
And damn sexy.
There were times he made her impatient. He was a bit too impulsive, and often showy. Errol Flynning it, she thought. And showoffs often ended up in the ground.
But when it came down to it, if she had to pick the people she’d want fighting beside her in the battle to save the world, she wouldn’t have chosen differently.
But even soldiers in the war to end wars needed to eat, to do laundry, and take out the trash.
Blair took the supply run because she wanted, desperately, to get out of the house. Two days of rain had limited outdoor activities, and made her edgy. If one person, just one, said that the rain is what made Ireland green, she’d split their head open with an ax.
Added to it, since the night of her close encounter with Lora, there’d been no sign of the enemy. The lull ruffled that edge and added twitchy.
Something was brewing. Bound to be brewing.
She had preferred to go alone, to have a couple of hours to herself, with her own thoughts, her own company. But she hadn’t been able to argue it was an unnecessary risk.
But she’d drawn the line at giving Larkin a driving lesson on their way into Ennis.
“I don’t know why I couldn’t do it,” he complained. “I’ve watched Glenna drive the thing. And she’s taught Hoyt.”
“Hoyt drives like an old blind man from Florida.”
“I don’t know what that means, except it’s an insult of some kind. I could do better than he does, with this, or the beauty Cian keeps in the stable.”
“Garage. You keep cars in a garage, and Cian’s made it clear he’ll bite and drain anyone who touches his Jag.”
“You could teach me on this one.” He reached over to trail his finger down the side of her neck. “I’d be a fine student.”
“Charm won’t work.” She flipped on the radio. “There, listen to the music and enjoy the ride.”
He cocked his head. “That sounds a bit like home.”
“Irish station, traditional music.”
“We’ve tried.” Hoyt laid his hand over Glenna’s. “We haven’t been able to find the way.”
“Something to work on. It would be another layer. The more layers they have to get through the better. Think vamp-free zone.”
“Perhaps I should move into a nice B and B,” Cian suggested, and had Blair frowning at him until she understood.
“Oh. Oh, right. Sorry. Forgot. Can’t have a vamp-free zone with a vamp in residence.”
“We haven’t been able to find a way to exclude him from it,” Glenna explained. “We have a few ideas. More like concepts than actual ideas,” she admitted. “And Hoyt’s been working for some time on conjuring a kind of shield for you, Cian, so that you could go outside during the day. In the sun.”
“Others have tried and failed on that. It can’t be done.”
“People used to believe the world was flat,” Blair pointed out.
“True enough.” Cian shrugged. “But I’d think if it could be done it would have been in the thousands of years since our existence. And experimenting with it at this point isn’t the best use of time.”
“It’s my time,” Hoyt said quietly.
“We could have used you today.” Glenna spoke after a long beat of silence. “In Kerry, at the cliffs. It’s worth the time. We think we’d have more success if we had some of your blood.”
“Oh?” Cian said dryly. “Is that all?”
“Think about it. Still, our first priority will be protection. Hoyt and I will put that together.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “Why don’t we get started?”
“Meanwhile, nobody sleeps until we have protection. I’ve got some extra crosses, some holy water, in my gear.” Blair got to her feet. “Cian, unless you’re planning to go out, I’d like to set up basic precautions at doors and windows.”
“Have at it. But those kind of trinkets won’t supercede an invitation.”
“Layers,” Blair said again.
“I’ll help you.” Larkin pushed his plate aside. “There’s a lot of doors and windows.”
“All right, so it looks like we split into teams. Hoyt and Glenna, magic time. Larkin and I will do what we can to block entrances. That leaves Cian and Moira on KP.”
I t wasn’t that she didn’t trust Hoyt and Glenna—she did as much as she’d ever trusted anyone. It wasn’t that she wasn’t open to magic. She had to be.
But even with the charm under her pillow, the candle lit, and the second charm hanging with the cross at her window, Blair slept fitfully that night.
And the night after.
The training helped, the sheer physical exertion of it, and the purpose. She pushed, and pushed hard. No one, including herself, ended any day without bruises and sore muscles. But no one, including herself, ended any day without being just a little stronger, just a little faster.
She watched Moira blossom—or thought of it that way. What Moira didn’t have in strength she made up for in speed and flexibility. And sheer determination.
There was no one who could compete with her when she had a bow in her hands.
Glenna polished the skills she already had—the canniness, the solid instincts. And she was coming along with a blade and an ax.
Hoyt brought an intensity to everything. Whether he fought with a blade, with a bow or with his own hands, he had an almost unwavering focus. She thought of him as the most reliable of soldiers.
And Cian as the most elegant, and vicious. He had the superior strength of his kind, and the animal’s cunning, but he added style to it all. He would kill, Blair thought, with violent grace.
She thought of Larkin as the utility player. In hand-to-hand, he was a scrapper, and simply didn’t give up. He lacked Hoyt’s intensity and Cian’s elegance with a sword, but he fought tirelessly until he downed his opponents, or they simply dropped from exhaustion. He had a good eye with the bow—not Moira’s, but who did?
And you never knew when he’d pull out one of his little tricks, so you’d end up battling with a man who had the head of a wolf, or the claws of a bear, the tail of dragon.
It was handy, and effective.
And damn sexy.
There were times he made her impatient. He was a bit too impulsive, and often showy. Errol Flynning it, she thought. And showoffs often ended up in the ground.
But when it came down to it, if she had to pick the people she’d want fighting beside her in the battle to save the world, she wouldn’t have chosen differently.
But even soldiers in the war to end wars needed to eat, to do laundry, and take out the trash.
Blair took the supply run because she wanted, desperately, to get out of the house. Two days of rain had limited outdoor activities, and made her edgy. If one person, just one, said that the rain is what made Ireland green, she’d split their head open with an ax.
Added to it, since the night of her close encounter with Lora, there’d been no sign of the enemy. The lull ruffled that edge and added twitchy.
Something was brewing. Bound to be brewing.
She had preferred to go alone, to have a couple of hours to herself, with her own thoughts, her own company. But she hadn’t been able to argue it was an unnecessary risk.
But she’d drawn the line at giving Larkin a driving lesson on their way into Ennis.
“I don’t know why I couldn’t do it,” he complained. “I’ve watched Glenna drive the thing. And she’s taught Hoyt.”
“Hoyt drives like an old blind man from Florida.”
“I don’t know what that means, except it’s an insult of some kind. I could do better than he does, with this, or the beauty Cian keeps in the stable.”
“Garage. You keep cars in a garage, and Cian’s made it clear he’ll bite and drain anyone who touches his Jag.”
“You could teach me on this one.” He reached over to trail his finger down the side of her neck. “I’d be a fine student.”
“Charm won’t work.” She flipped on the radio. “There, listen to the music and enjoy the ride.”
He cocked his head. “That sounds a bit like home.”
“Irish station, traditional music.”
