Morrigan's Cross
Page 90
“It’s so exactly right.” She glanced at the price again, winced. “Well, maxing out my credit card doesn’t seem that big a deal considering the possible apocalypse.”
“Seize the day,” Blair agreed. “You doing a veil, a headpiece?”
“Traditional Celtic handfastings call for a veil, but in this case... Just flowers, I think.”
“Even better. Soft, earthy, romantic and sexy all rolled into one. Do the deal.”
“Moira?” Glenna looked over, saw Moira’s eyes were damp and dreamy. “I can see it has your vote, too.”
“I think you’ll be the most beautiful of brides.”
“Well, this was serious fun.” Blair got to her feet. “And I agree with the brain trust here—you look outstanding. But you need to wrap it up.” She tapped her watch. “The two of you are due in training. You need some major hand-to-hand practice. Why don’t you come with me now?” she said to Moira. “We can get started.”
“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Glenna told them, then turned back to study herself in the glass.
From wedding dresses to combat, she thought. Her life had become a very strange ride.
Because he heard the music playing inside, Hoyt knocked on Cian’s door a little before sundown. There’d been a time, he remembered, he wouldn’t have thought of knocking, when asking permission to enter his brother’s chambers wouldn’t have been necessary.
A time, he thought, he wouldn’t have needed to ask his brother if he could live with his wife in his own home.
Locks clicked and snicked. Cian wore only loose pants and a sleepy expression when he opened the door. “A bit early for me, for visiting.”
“I need a private word with you.”
“Which, of course, can’t wait on my convenience. Come in then.”
Hoyt stepped into a room that was pitch black. “Must we speak in the dark?”
“I can see well enough.” But Cian switched on a low light beside a wide bed. The covers on the bed gleamed jewel-like in that light, and the sheets carried the sheen of silk. Cian moved to a cold box, took out a packet of blood. “I haven’t had breakfast.” He tossed the packet into the microwave sitting on top of the box. “What do you want?”
“When this is done, what do you intend to do?”
“As I choose, as always.”
“To live here?”
“I think not,” Cian said with a half laugh, and took a crystal glass from a shelf.
“Tomorrow night... Glenna and I are to be handfasted.”
There was a slight hesitation in his rhythm, then Cian set the glass down. “Isn’t that interesting? I suppose congratulations are in order. And you intend to take her back, introduce her to the family. Ma, Da, this is my bride. A little witch I picked up a few centuries from now.”
“Cian.”
“Sorry. The absurdity of it amuses me.” He took the package out, broke it open and poured the warmed contents into the glass. “Well, anyway. Sláinte.”
“I can’t go back.”
After the first sip, the first long stare over the rim, Cian lowered the glass. “More and more interesting.”
“It’s no longer my place, knowing what I know. Waiting for the day to come when I know they’ll die. If you could go back, would you?”
Cian frowned into his glass, then sat. “No. For thousands of reasons. But that would be one of them. But that aside, you brought this war to me. Now you take time from it to handfast?”
“Human needs don’t stop. They’re only keener, it seems, when the end of days threaten.”
“It happens that’s true. I’ve seen it countless times. It also happens war brides don’t always make reliable wives.”
“That’s for me and for Glenna.”
“It certainly is.” He raised his glass, drank some more. “Well then, good luck to you.”
“We want to live here, in this house.”
“In my house?”
“In the house that was ours. Setting aside my rights, and our kinship, you’re a businessman. You pay a caretaker when you’re not in residence. You’d no longer have that expense. Glenna and I would tend this place and the land, at no cost to you.”
“And how do you propose to make a living? There isn’t much demand for sorcerers these days. Wait, I take it back.” Cian laughed, finished off the blood. “You could make a goddamn fortune on television, on the Internet. Get yourself an nine-hundred number, a web site, and off you go. Not your style though.”
“I’ll find my way.”
Cian set the glass aside, looked off into the shadows. “Maybe I hope you do, providing you live, of course. I’ve no problem with you staying in the house.”
“Thanks for that.”
Cian shrugged. “It’s a complicated life you’ve chosen for yourself.”
“And I intend to live it. I’ll let you get dressed.”
A complicated life, Cian thought again when he was alone. And it stunned and annoyed him that he could envy it.
Chapter 21
Glenna figured most brides were a little stressed and very busy on their weddings days. But most brides didn’t have to fit in sword practice and spells between their facials and pedicures.
At least the pace cut down on the time for the nerves she’d had no idea she’d have. She couldn’t squeeze in much of an anxiety attack when she was worried about flower arrangements, romantic lighting and the proper form for beheading a vampire.
“Try this.” Blair started to toss the weapon, then obviously changed her mind when Glenna’s mouth dropped open. She walked it over. “Battle-ax. More heft than a sword, which would work better for you, I think. You got pretty decent upper body strength, but you’d cut through easier with this than a sword. You need to get used to its weight and its balance. Here.”
She walked back, picked up her own sword. “Block me with it.”
“I’m not used to it. I could miss, hurt you.”
“Believe me, you won’t hurt me. Block!” She thrust out, and more from instinct than obedience, Glenna clanged the ax to the sword.
“Now see, I’d just stab you cheerfully in the back while you’re fumbling to turn.”
“Seize the day,” Blair agreed. “You doing a veil, a headpiece?”
“Traditional Celtic handfastings call for a veil, but in this case... Just flowers, I think.”
“Even better. Soft, earthy, romantic and sexy all rolled into one. Do the deal.”
“Moira?” Glenna looked over, saw Moira’s eyes were damp and dreamy. “I can see it has your vote, too.”
“I think you’ll be the most beautiful of brides.”
“Well, this was serious fun.” Blair got to her feet. “And I agree with the brain trust here—you look outstanding. But you need to wrap it up.” She tapped her watch. “The two of you are due in training. You need some major hand-to-hand practice. Why don’t you come with me now?” she said to Moira. “We can get started.”
“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Glenna told them, then turned back to study herself in the glass.
From wedding dresses to combat, she thought. Her life had become a very strange ride.
Because he heard the music playing inside, Hoyt knocked on Cian’s door a little before sundown. There’d been a time, he remembered, he wouldn’t have thought of knocking, when asking permission to enter his brother’s chambers wouldn’t have been necessary.
A time, he thought, he wouldn’t have needed to ask his brother if he could live with his wife in his own home.
Locks clicked and snicked. Cian wore only loose pants and a sleepy expression when he opened the door. “A bit early for me, for visiting.”
“I need a private word with you.”
“Which, of course, can’t wait on my convenience. Come in then.”
Hoyt stepped into a room that was pitch black. “Must we speak in the dark?”
“I can see well enough.” But Cian switched on a low light beside a wide bed. The covers on the bed gleamed jewel-like in that light, and the sheets carried the sheen of silk. Cian moved to a cold box, took out a packet of blood. “I haven’t had breakfast.” He tossed the packet into the microwave sitting on top of the box. “What do you want?”
“When this is done, what do you intend to do?”
“As I choose, as always.”
“To live here?”
“I think not,” Cian said with a half laugh, and took a crystal glass from a shelf.
“Tomorrow night... Glenna and I are to be handfasted.”
There was a slight hesitation in his rhythm, then Cian set the glass down. “Isn’t that interesting? I suppose congratulations are in order. And you intend to take her back, introduce her to the family. Ma, Da, this is my bride. A little witch I picked up a few centuries from now.”
“Cian.”
“Sorry. The absurdity of it amuses me.” He took the package out, broke it open and poured the warmed contents into the glass. “Well, anyway. Sláinte.”
“I can’t go back.”
After the first sip, the first long stare over the rim, Cian lowered the glass. “More and more interesting.”
“It’s no longer my place, knowing what I know. Waiting for the day to come when I know they’ll die. If you could go back, would you?”
Cian frowned into his glass, then sat. “No. For thousands of reasons. But that would be one of them. But that aside, you brought this war to me. Now you take time from it to handfast?”
“Human needs don’t stop. They’re only keener, it seems, when the end of days threaten.”
“It happens that’s true. I’ve seen it countless times. It also happens war brides don’t always make reliable wives.”
“That’s for me and for Glenna.”
“It certainly is.” He raised his glass, drank some more. “Well then, good luck to you.”
“We want to live here, in this house.”
“In my house?”
“In the house that was ours. Setting aside my rights, and our kinship, you’re a businessman. You pay a caretaker when you’re not in residence. You’d no longer have that expense. Glenna and I would tend this place and the land, at no cost to you.”
“And how do you propose to make a living? There isn’t much demand for sorcerers these days. Wait, I take it back.” Cian laughed, finished off the blood. “You could make a goddamn fortune on television, on the Internet. Get yourself an nine-hundred number, a web site, and off you go. Not your style though.”
“I’ll find my way.”
Cian set the glass aside, looked off into the shadows. “Maybe I hope you do, providing you live, of course. I’ve no problem with you staying in the house.”
“Thanks for that.”
Cian shrugged. “It’s a complicated life you’ve chosen for yourself.”
“And I intend to live it. I’ll let you get dressed.”
A complicated life, Cian thought again when he was alone. And it stunned and annoyed him that he could envy it.
Chapter 21
Glenna figured most brides were a little stressed and very busy on their weddings days. But most brides didn’t have to fit in sword practice and spells between their facials and pedicures.
At least the pace cut down on the time for the nerves she’d had no idea she’d have. She couldn’t squeeze in much of an anxiety attack when she was worried about flower arrangements, romantic lighting and the proper form for beheading a vampire.
“Try this.” Blair started to toss the weapon, then obviously changed her mind when Glenna’s mouth dropped open. She walked it over. “Battle-ax. More heft than a sword, which would work better for you, I think. You got pretty decent upper body strength, but you’d cut through easier with this than a sword. You need to get used to its weight and its balance. Here.”
She walked back, picked up her own sword. “Block me with it.”
“I’m not used to it. I could miss, hurt you.”
“Believe me, you won’t hurt me. Block!” She thrust out, and more from instinct than obedience, Glenna clanged the ax to the sword.
“Now see, I’d just stab you cheerfully in the back while you’re fumbling to turn.”
