Morrigan's Cross
Page 15
She traveled uptown by subway, letting her mind clear. There was a drumming in her heart, an anticipation that had been building in her over the past weeks. This, she thought, was the next step to whatever was waiting.
And whatever it was, whatever was coming, whatever would happen next, she wanted to be open to it.
Then she’d make her decisions.
The train was crowded, so she stood, holding the overhead hook and swaying slightly with the movement of the car. She liked the rhythm of the city, its rapid pace, its eclectic musics. All the tones and hues of it.
She’d grown up in New York, but not in the city. The small town upstate had always seemed too limited to her, too closed-in. She’d wanted more, always. More color, more sound, more people. She’d spent the last four of her twenty-six years in the city.
And all of her life exploring her craft.
Something in her blood was humming now, as if it knew—some part of her knew—she’d been preparing all of her life for these next hours.
At the next station, people filed on, people filed off. She let the sound of them flow over her as she brought the image of the man she sought back into her head.
Not the face of a martyr, she thought. There’d been too much power on him for that. And too much annoyance in him. She’d found it, she could admit, a very interesting mix.
The power of the circle he’d cast had been strong, and so had been whatever hunted him. They chased her dreams, too, those black wolves that were neither animal nor human, but something horribly of both.
Idly, she fingered the pendant she wore around her neck. Well, she was strong, too. She knew how to protect herself.
“She will feed on you.”
The voice was a hiss rippling over the back of her neck, icing her skin. Then what spoke moved, seemed to glide and float in a circle around her, and the cold from it had the breath that trembled from between her lips frosting the air.
The other passengers continued to sit or stand, read or chat. Undisturbed. Unaware of the thing that slithered around their bodies like a snake.
Its eyes were red, its eye teeth long and sharp. Blood stained them, dripped obscenely from its mouth. Inside her chest, Glenna’s heart tightened like a fist and began to beat, beat, beat against her ribs.
It had human form, and worse, somehow worse, wore a business suit. Blue pinstripes, she noted dully, crisp white shirt and paisley tie.
“We are forever.” It swiped a bloody hand over the cheek of a woman who sat reading a paperback novel. Even while red stained her cheek, the woman turned the page and continued to read.
“We will herd you like cattle, ride you like horses, trap you like rats. Your powers are puny and pathetic, and when we’re done with you, we’ll dance on your bones.”
“Then why are you afraid?”
It peeled back its lips in a snarl, and it leaped.
Glenna choked on a scream, stumbled back.
As the train streaked through a tunnel, the thing vanished.
“Watch it, lady.” She got an impatient elbow and mutter from the man she’d fallen into.
“Sorry.” She gripped the hook again with a hand gone slick with sweat.
She could still smell the blood as she rode the last blocks uptown.
For the first time in her life, Glenna actively feared the dark, the streets, the people who passed by. She had to struggle to not run when the train stopped. Had to suppress the urge to shove and push her way off and race across the platform to the steps leading up.
She walked quickly, and even with the city noises she heard the rapid clip of her heels on the sidewalk and the fearful wheeze of her own breath.
There was a line snaking out from the entrance of the club called Eternity. Couples and singles crammed together hoping to get the signal to go inside. Rather than wait, she walked up to the man on the door. She flashed a smile, did a quick charm.
He passed her through without checking his list or her ID.
Inside was music, blue light and the throb of excitement. For once the press of humanity, the pulse and beat didn’t excite her.
Too many faces, she thought. Too many heartbeats. She wanted only one, and the prospect of finding him among so many suddenly seemed impossible. Every bump and jostle as she worked her way into the club jolted through her. And her own fear shamed her.
She wasn’t defenseless; she wasn’t weak. But she felt both. The thing on the train had been every nightmare. And that nightmare had been sent to her.
For her.
It had known her fear, she thought now. And it had played with it, taunted her until her knees were water and the screams inside her had slashed her mind like razors.
She’d been too shocked, too frightened to reach for the only weapon she held. Magic.
Now anger began to eke through the terror.
She’d told herself she was a seeker, a woman who took risks, valued knowledge. A woman who possessed defenses and skills most couldn’t imagine. Yet here she was quivering at the first real whiff of danger. She stiffened her spine, evened her breathing, then headed straight for the huge circular bar.
Halfway across the silver span of the floor she saw him.
The flood of relief came first, then the pride that she’d succeeded in this initial task so quickly. A trickle of interest worked its way through as she veered in his direction.
The guy cleaned up very well.
His hair was carelessly styled rather than ragged, a shining black and shorter than it had been during their first meeting. Then again, he’d been wounded, troubled and in a hell of a fix. He wore black, and it suited him. Just as the watchful, slightly irritable look in those brilliant eyes suited him.
With a great deal of her confidence restored, she smiled and stepped into his path.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
Cian paused. He was accustomed to women approaching him. Not that he couldn’t get some enjoyment from it, particularly when the woman was exceptional as this one was. There was a spark in her eyes, jewel green, and a flirtatious hint of amusement. Her lips were full, sensuous and curved; her voice low and husky.
Her body was a good one, and poured into a little black dress that showed a great deal of milky skin and strong muscle tone. He might have amused himself with her for a few moments, but for the pendant she wore.
Witches, and worse, those who played at witchcraft, could be troublesome.
“I enjoy being looked for by beautiful women when I have time to be found.” He would have left it at that, moved on, but she touched his arm.
And whatever it was, whatever was coming, whatever would happen next, she wanted to be open to it.
Then she’d make her decisions.
The train was crowded, so she stood, holding the overhead hook and swaying slightly with the movement of the car. She liked the rhythm of the city, its rapid pace, its eclectic musics. All the tones and hues of it.
She’d grown up in New York, but not in the city. The small town upstate had always seemed too limited to her, too closed-in. She’d wanted more, always. More color, more sound, more people. She’d spent the last four of her twenty-six years in the city.
And all of her life exploring her craft.
Something in her blood was humming now, as if it knew—some part of her knew—she’d been preparing all of her life for these next hours.
At the next station, people filed on, people filed off. She let the sound of them flow over her as she brought the image of the man she sought back into her head.
Not the face of a martyr, she thought. There’d been too much power on him for that. And too much annoyance in him. She’d found it, she could admit, a very interesting mix.
The power of the circle he’d cast had been strong, and so had been whatever hunted him. They chased her dreams, too, those black wolves that were neither animal nor human, but something horribly of both.
Idly, she fingered the pendant she wore around her neck. Well, she was strong, too. She knew how to protect herself.
“She will feed on you.”
The voice was a hiss rippling over the back of her neck, icing her skin. Then what spoke moved, seemed to glide and float in a circle around her, and the cold from it had the breath that trembled from between her lips frosting the air.
The other passengers continued to sit or stand, read or chat. Undisturbed. Unaware of the thing that slithered around their bodies like a snake.
Its eyes were red, its eye teeth long and sharp. Blood stained them, dripped obscenely from its mouth. Inside her chest, Glenna’s heart tightened like a fist and began to beat, beat, beat against her ribs.
It had human form, and worse, somehow worse, wore a business suit. Blue pinstripes, she noted dully, crisp white shirt and paisley tie.
“We are forever.” It swiped a bloody hand over the cheek of a woman who sat reading a paperback novel. Even while red stained her cheek, the woman turned the page and continued to read.
“We will herd you like cattle, ride you like horses, trap you like rats. Your powers are puny and pathetic, and when we’re done with you, we’ll dance on your bones.”
“Then why are you afraid?”
It peeled back its lips in a snarl, and it leaped.
Glenna choked on a scream, stumbled back.
As the train streaked through a tunnel, the thing vanished.
“Watch it, lady.” She got an impatient elbow and mutter from the man she’d fallen into.
“Sorry.” She gripped the hook again with a hand gone slick with sweat.
She could still smell the blood as she rode the last blocks uptown.
For the first time in her life, Glenna actively feared the dark, the streets, the people who passed by. She had to struggle to not run when the train stopped. Had to suppress the urge to shove and push her way off and race across the platform to the steps leading up.
She walked quickly, and even with the city noises she heard the rapid clip of her heels on the sidewalk and the fearful wheeze of her own breath.
There was a line snaking out from the entrance of the club called Eternity. Couples and singles crammed together hoping to get the signal to go inside. Rather than wait, she walked up to the man on the door. She flashed a smile, did a quick charm.
He passed her through without checking his list or her ID.
Inside was music, blue light and the throb of excitement. For once the press of humanity, the pulse and beat didn’t excite her.
Too many faces, she thought. Too many heartbeats. She wanted only one, and the prospect of finding him among so many suddenly seemed impossible. Every bump and jostle as she worked her way into the club jolted through her. And her own fear shamed her.
She wasn’t defenseless; she wasn’t weak. But she felt both. The thing on the train had been every nightmare. And that nightmare had been sent to her.
For her.
It had known her fear, she thought now. And it had played with it, taunted her until her knees were water and the screams inside her had slashed her mind like razors.
She’d been too shocked, too frightened to reach for the only weapon she held. Magic.
Now anger began to eke through the terror.
She’d told herself she was a seeker, a woman who took risks, valued knowledge. A woman who possessed defenses and skills most couldn’t imagine. Yet here she was quivering at the first real whiff of danger. She stiffened her spine, evened her breathing, then headed straight for the huge circular bar.
Halfway across the silver span of the floor she saw him.
The flood of relief came first, then the pride that she’d succeeded in this initial task so quickly. A trickle of interest worked its way through as she veered in his direction.
The guy cleaned up very well.
His hair was carelessly styled rather than ragged, a shining black and shorter than it had been during their first meeting. Then again, he’d been wounded, troubled and in a hell of a fix. He wore black, and it suited him. Just as the watchful, slightly irritable look in those brilliant eyes suited him.
With a great deal of her confidence restored, she smiled and stepped into his path.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
Cian paused. He was accustomed to women approaching him. Not that he couldn’t get some enjoyment from it, particularly when the woman was exceptional as this one was. There was a spark in her eyes, jewel green, and a flirtatious hint of amusement. Her lips were full, sensuous and curved; her voice low and husky.
Her body was a good one, and poured into a little black dress that showed a great deal of milky skin and strong muscle tone. He might have amused himself with her for a few moments, but for the pendant she wore.
Witches, and worse, those who played at witchcraft, could be troublesome.
“I enjoy being looked for by beautiful women when I have time to be found.” He would have left it at that, moved on, but she touched his arm.
