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Morrigan's Cross

Page 67

   


With the cold edge of the blades on his flesh, Hoyt got to his knees.
“Well, what a handsome sight.”
Lilith stepped into the moonlight. She wore emerald green robes with her hair long and loose to spill over her shoulders like sunbeams.
“Lilith. It’s been a very long time.”
“Too long.” The silk rustled as she moved. “Did you come all this way to bring me a gift?”
“A trade,” Cian corrected. “Call your dogs off,” he said quietly. “Or I kill him, then them. And you have nothing.”
“So forceful.” She gestured with her hand toward the vampires creeping in at the sides. “You’ve seasoned. You were hardly more than a pretty puppy when I gave you the gift. Now look at you, a sleek wolf. I like it.”
“And still your dog,” Hoyt spat out.
“Ah, the mighty sorcerer brought low. I like that, too. You marked me.” She opened her robes to show Hoyt the pentagram branded over her heart. “It gave me pain for more than a decade. And the scar never fades. I owe you for that. Tell me, Cian, how did you manage to bring him here?”
“He thinks I’m his brother. It makes it easy.”
“She took your life. She’s lies and death.”
Over Hoyt’s head, Cian smiled. “That’s what I love about her. I’ll give you this one for the human you took. He’s useful to me, and loyal. I want him back.”
“But he’s so much bigger than this one. So much more to feast on.”
“He has no power. He’s an ordinary mortal. I give you a sorcerer.”
“Yet you covet the human.”
“As I said, he’s of use to me. Do you know how much time and trouble it takes to train a human servant? I want him back. No one steals from me. Not you, not anyone.”
“We’ll discuss it. Bring him down. I’ve done quite a bit with the caves. We can be comfortable, have a little something to eat. I’ve a very Rubenesque exchange student on tap—Swiss. We can share. Oh, but wait.” She let out a musical laugh. “I’ve heard you dine on pigs’ blood these days.”
“You can’t trust everything you hear.” Deliberately Cian lifted the knife he’d used to cut Hoyt, flicked his tongue over the bloodied blade.
That first taste of human after so long a fast reddened his eyes, churned his hunger. “But I haven’t lived so long to be stupid. This is a one-time offer, Lilith. Bring the human to me, and take the sorcerer.”
“How can I trust you, my darling boy? You kill our kind.”
“I kill what I like when I like. As you do.”
“You aligned yourself with them. With humans. Plotted against me.”
“As long as it amused me. It’s become boring, and costly. Give me the human, take this one. And, as a bonus, I’ll invite you into my home. You can have a banquet on the others.”
Hoyt’s head jerked, and the blade bit. He cursed, in Gaelic now, with low and steady violence.
“Smell the power in that blood.” Lilith crooned it. “Gorgeous.”
“Another step, and I cut the jugular, waste it all.”
“Would you?” She smiled, beautifully. “I wonder. Is that what you want?” She gestured.
At the edge of the cliff where the lighthouse stood, Cian could see King slumped between two vampires.
“He’s alive,” she said lightly. “Of course, you only have my word for it, as I have yours that you’d hand that one to me, like a pretty present all wrapped in shiny paper. Let’s play a game.”
She held her skirts out, twirled. “Kill him, and I give you the human. Kill your brother, but not with the knives. Kill him as you’re meant to kill. Take his blood, drink him, and the human is yours.”
“Bring me the human first.”
She pouted, brushed fussily at her skirts. “Oh, very well.” She lifted one arm high, then the other. Cian eased the knives from Hoyt’s throat as they began to drag King forward.
They dropped him, and with a vicious kick sent him over the edge.
“Oops!” Lilith eyes’s danced with merriment as she pressed a hand to her lips. “Butterfingers. I guess you’ll have to pay me back now and kill that one.”
With a wild roar, Cian charged forward. And she rose up, spreading her robe like wings. “Take them!” she shouted. “Bring them to me.” And was gone.
Cian switched grips on the knives as Hoyt sprang up, yanking free the stakes shoved into the back of his belt.
Arrows flew, slicing through air and hearts. Before Cian could strike the first blow, a half dozen vampires were dust, blown out to sea by the wind.
“More are coming!” Moira shouted from the cover of trees. “We need to go. We need to go now. This way. Hurry!”
Retreat was bitter, a vile taste burning the back of the throat. But the choice was to swallow death. So they turned from battle.
When they reached the car, Hoyt reached for his brother’s hand. “Cian—”
“Don’t.” He slammed in, watched the others leap into the van. “Just don’t.”
The long drive home was full of silence, of grief and of fury.
Glenna didn’t weep. It went too deep for tears. She drove in a kind of trance, her body throbbing with pain and shock, her mind numb with it. And knowing it was cowardice, huddled there.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
She heard Moira’s voice, but couldn’t respond to it. She felt Larkin touch her shoulder, she supposed in comfort. But was too numb to react. And when Moira climbed in the back with Larkin to give her solitude, she knew only vague relief.
She turned into the woods, carefully maneuvered the narrow lane. In front of the house where the lights burned, she shut off the engine, the lights. Reached for the door.
It flew open, and she was wrenched out, held inches above the ground. Even then, she felt nothing, not even fear as she saw the thirst in Cian’s eyes.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t break your neck and be done with it.”
“I can’t.”
Hoyt reached them first, and was flicked away with a careless backward swipe.
“Don’t. He’s not to blame. Don’t,” she said now to Hoyt before he could charge again. “Please don’t.” And to Larkin.
“Do you think that moves me?”