Morrigan's Cross
Page 84
“There’s no question?” Cian said quietly.
“I put this around her neck myself. Look at her, Cian.”
“Aye. Well.” He looked away again, then moved to the window.
“Forged in the fire of the gods, given by the hand of a sorcerer.” Blair breathed deep. “Family legend. My middle name is Nola. Blair Nola Bridgit Murphy.”
“Hoyt.” Glenna touched his arm. “She’s your family.”
“I guess you’d be my uncle, a thousand times removed or however it works.” She glanced over toward Cian. “And isn’t it a kick in the ass? I’m related to a vampire.”
In the morning, under a weak and fitful sunlight, Glenna stood with Hoyt in the family graveyard. The storm had soaked the grass, and rain still dripped from the petals of the roses that climbed over his mother’s grave.
“I don’t know how to comfort you.”
He took her hand. “You’re here. I never thought I would need anyone to be with me, not the way I need you. It’s all so fast, all of this. Loss and gain, discovery, questions. Life and death.”
“Tell me about your sister. About Nola.”
“She was bright and fair, and gifted. She had sight. She loved animals—had, I think, a special affinity for them. Before I left, there were puppies born to my father’s wolfhound. Nola would spend hours in the stables playing with them. And while the world turned, she grew to a woman, had children.”
He turned, rested his brow against Glenna’s. “I see her in this woman, this warrior who’s with us now. And inside of me is another war.”
“Will you bring her here? Blair?”
“It would be right.”
“You do what’s right.” She tipped up her head so her lips brushed his. “It’s why I love you.”
“If we were to marry—”
She took one quick, jerky step back. “Marry?”
“Sure that hasn’t changed over the centuries. A man and a woman love, they take vows, make promises. Marriage or handfasting, a tie to bind them to each other.”
“I know what marriage is.”
“And it disturbs you?”
“Not disturbs, and don’t smile at me that way, as if I’m being endearingly stupid. Give me just a minute here.” She looked over the stones, toward the sparkling hills beyond. “Yes, people still marry, if they like. Some live together without the ritual.”
“You and I, Glenna Ward, we’re creatures of ritual.”
She looked back at him, felt her stomach jitter. “Yes, we are.”
“If we were to marry, would you live here with me?”
It was a second jolt. “Here? In this place, in this world?”
“In this place, in this world.”
“But... don’t you want to go back? Need to?”
“I don’t think I can go back. Magically, aye, I think it’s possible,” he said before she could speak. “I don’t think I can go back, to what was. To what was home. Not knowing when they’ll die. Knowing that Cian is here—that other half of me. I don’t think I could go back knowing you would go with me, and pine for what you left here.”
“I said I would go.”
“Without hesitation,” he agreed. “Yet you hesitate at the rite of marriage.”
“You caught me off guard. And you didn’t actually ask me,” she said with some annoyance. “You more posed a hypothesis.”
“If we were to marry,” he said a third time, and the humor in his voice had her fighting her own, “would you live with me here?”
“In Ireland?”
“Aye, here. And in this place. It would be a kind of melding of our worlds, our needs. I would ask Cian to let us live in the house, to tend it. It needs people, family, the children we’d make together.”
“Leaps and bounds,” she murmured. Then took a moment to settle herself, to search herself. Her time, his place, she thought. Yes, it was a loving compromise, could be—would be—a melding of spirits.
“I’ve always been a confident sort, even as a child. Know what you want, work to get it, then value it once you have it. I’ve tried not to take anything in my life for granted, or not too much. My family, my gift, my lifestyle.”
Reaching out, she brushed her fingers over one of his mother’s roses. Simple beauty. Miraculous life.
“But I’ve learned that I took the world for granted, that it would always be—and that it would roll along, pretty much without my help. I learned otherwise, and that’s given me something else to work for, to value.”
“Is that a way of saying this isn’t the time to speak of marriage and children?”
“No. It’s a way of saying I understand the little things—and the big ones—the normal things, life, become only more important when it’s all on the line. So... Hoyt the Sorcerer.”
She touched her lips to his cheek, then the other. “If we were to marry, I would live here with you, and tend this house with you, and make children with you. And I’d work very hard to value all of it.”
Watching her, he held up a hand, palm to her. When hers met it, their fingers linked, firm and strong. Light spilled out of their clasped hands.
“Will you marry me, Glenna?”
“Yes.”
He cupped the back of her neck, drawing her to him. The kiss spun out, full of promise and possibilities. Full of hope. When her arms came around him, she knew she’d found the strongest part of her destiny.
“We have more to fight for now.” He turned his face into her hair. “More to be now.”
“Then we will be. Come with me. I’ll show you what I’m working on.”
She took him with her closer to the house where there were targets set up for archery training. The sound of hoofbeats had her looking over, just in time to see Larkin ride the stallion into the trees.
“I wish he wouldn’t ride in the woods. There are so many shadows.”
“I doubt they could catch him, if they were lying in wait. But if you asked him,” Hoyt said, running a hand down Glenna’s hair, “he’d keep to the fields.”
Her brows lifted in puzzlement. “If I asked?”
“If he knew you worried, he’d give that to you. He’s grateful for what you do for him. You feed him,” Hoyt said when she frowned.
“I put this around her neck myself. Look at her, Cian.”
“Aye. Well.” He looked away again, then moved to the window.
“Forged in the fire of the gods, given by the hand of a sorcerer.” Blair breathed deep. “Family legend. My middle name is Nola. Blair Nola Bridgit Murphy.”
“Hoyt.” Glenna touched his arm. “She’s your family.”
“I guess you’d be my uncle, a thousand times removed or however it works.” She glanced over toward Cian. “And isn’t it a kick in the ass? I’m related to a vampire.”
In the morning, under a weak and fitful sunlight, Glenna stood with Hoyt in the family graveyard. The storm had soaked the grass, and rain still dripped from the petals of the roses that climbed over his mother’s grave.
“I don’t know how to comfort you.”
He took her hand. “You’re here. I never thought I would need anyone to be with me, not the way I need you. It’s all so fast, all of this. Loss and gain, discovery, questions. Life and death.”
“Tell me about your sister. About Nola.”
“She was bright and fair, and gifted. She had sight. She loved animals—had, I think, a special affinity for them. Before I left, there were puppies born to my father’s wolfhound. Nola would spend hours in the stables playing with them. And while the world turned, she grew to a woman, had children.”
He turned, rested his brow against Glenna’s. “I see her in this woman, this warrior who’s with us now. And inside of me is another war.”
“Will you bring her here? Blair?”
“It would be right.”
“You do what’s right.” She tipped up her head so her lips brushed his. “It’s why I love you.”
“If we were to marry—”
She took one quick, jerky step back. “Marry?”
“Sure that hasn’t changed over the centuries. A man and a woman love, they take vows, make promises. Marriage or handfasting, a tie to bind them to each other.”
“I know what marriage is.”
“And it disturbs you?”
“Not disturbs, and don’t smile at me that way, as if I’m being endearingly stupid. Give me just a minute here.” She looked over the stones, toward the sparkling hills beyond. “Yes, people still marry, if they like. Some live together without the ritual.”
“You and I, Glenna Ward, we’re creatures of ritual.”
She looked back at him, felt her stomach jitter. “Yes, we are.”
“If we were to marry, would you live here with me?”
It was a second jolt. “Here? In this place, in this world?”
“In this place, in this world.”
“But... don’t you want to go back? Need to?”
“I don’t think I can go back. Magically, aye, I think it’s possible,” he said before she could speak. “I don’t think I can go back, to what was. To what was home. Not knowing when they’ll die. Knowing that Cian is here—that other half of me. I don’t think I could go back knowing you would go with me, and pine for what you left here.”
“I said I would go.”
“Without hesitation,” he agreed. “Yet you hesitate at the rite of marriage.”
“You caught me off guard. And you didn’t actually ask me,” she said with some annoyance. “You more posed a hypothesis.”
“If we were to marry,” he said a third time, and the humor in his voice had her fighting her own, “would you live with me here?”
“In Ireland?”
“Aye, here. And in this place. It would be a kind of melding of our worlds, our needs. I would ask Cian to let us live in the house, to tend it. It needs people, family, the children we’d make together.”
“Leaps and bounds,” she murmured. Then took a moment to settle herself, to search herself. Her time, his place, she thought. Yes, it was a loving compromise, could be—would be—a melding of spirits.
“I’ve always been a confident sort, even as a child. Know what you want, work to get it, then value it once you have it. I’ve tried not to take anything in my life for granted, or not too much. My family, my gift, my lifestyle.”
Reaching out, she brushed her fingers over one of his mother’s roses. Simple beauty. Miraculous life.
“But I’ve learned that I took the world for granted, that it would always be—and that it would roll along, pretty much without my help. I learned otherwise, and that’s given me something else to work for, to value.”
“Is that a way of saying this isn’t the time to speak of marriage and children?”
“No. It’s a way of saying I understand the little things—and the big ones—the normal things, life, become only more important when it’s all on the line. So... Hoyt the Sorcerer.”
She touched her lips to his cheek, then the other. “If we were to marry, I would live here with you, and tend this house with you, and make children with you. And I’d work very hard to value all of it.”
Watching her, he held up a hand, palm to her. When hers met it, their fingers linked, firm and strong. Light spilled out of their clasped hands.
“Will you marry me, Glenna?”
“Yes.”
He cupped the back of her neck, drawing her to him. The kiss spun out, full of promise and possibilities. Full of hope. When her arms came around him, she knew she’d found the strongest part of her destiny.
“We have more to fight for now.” He turned his face into her hair. “More to be now.”
“Then we will be. Come with me. I’ll show you what I’m working on.”
She took him with her closer to the house where there were targets set up for archery training. The sound of hoofbeats had her looking over, just in time to see Larkin ride the stallion into the trees.
“I wish he wouldn’t ride in the woods. There are so many shadows.”
“I doubt they could catch him, if they were lying in wait. But if you asked him,” Hoyt said, running a hand down Glenna’s hair, “he’d keep to the fields.”
Her brows lifted in puzzlement. “If I asked?”
“If he knew you worried, he’d give that to you. He’s grateful for what you do for him. You feed him,” Hoyt said when she frowned.
