Valley of Silence
Page 51
“Nola.” His voice sounded rusty on the name.
She was a child, his sister, just as she’d been when he’d last seen her. Her long dark hair falling straight, her eyes deep and blue. And smiling.
“Nola,” he said again. “My God.”
“I thought you would say you have no god.”
“None that would claim me. How can you be here? Are you here?”
“You can see for yourself.” She spread her arms, then did a little turn.
“You lived, and you died. An old woman.”
“You didn’t know the woman, so I’m as you remember me. I missed you, Cian. I looked for you, even knowing better. For years I looked and I hoped for you and for Hoyt. You never came.”
“How could I? You know what I was. Am. You understand that now.”
“Would you have hurt me? Or any of us?”
“I don’t know. I hope not, but I didn’t see any reason to risk it. Why are you here?”
He reached out, but she held up her hand and she shook her head. “I’m not flesh. Only an apparition. Here to remind you that you may not be what you were when you were mine, but you’re not what she would have made you.”
Because he needed a moment, he bent to pick up the dagger he’d dropped, then sheathed it again. “What does it matter?”
“It does. It will.” And apparition or not, her eyes swam as they locked on his. “I had children, Cian.”
“I know.”
“Strong, skilled, gifted. Your blood, too.”
“Were you happy?”
“Oh, aye. I loved a man, and he loved me. We had those children, and lived a good life. And still my brothers left a place in my heart I could never fill. A little ache inside. I would see you, and Hoyt, sometimes. In the water, or the mist, or the fire.”
“There are things I’ve done I wouldn’t have you see.”
“I saw you kill, and feed. I saw you hunt humans as you’d once hunted deer. And I saw you stand by my grave in the moonlight and lay flowers on it. I saw you fight beside the brother we both love. I saw my Cian. Do you remember how you’d pull me up on your horse and ride and ride?”
“Nola.” He rubbed his fingers over his brow. He hurt too much to think of it. “We’re both dead.”
“And we both lived. She came to my window one night.”
“She? Who?” Inside him, he went cold as winter. “Lilith.”
“We’re both dead,” Nola reminded him. “But your hands go to fists and your eyes go sharp as your dagger. Would you still protect me?”
He walked to the fire, kicked idly at the simmering turf. “What happened?”
“It was more than two years after Hoyt left us. Father had died and mother was ill. I knew she would never be strong again, that she would die. I was so sad, so afraid. I woke from sleep in the dark, and there was a face at my window. So beautiful. Golden hair and a sweet smile. She whispered to me, called me by name. ‘Ask me in,’ she said, and promised me a treat.”
Nola tossed back her hair, and her face was full of disdain. “She thought since I was only a girl, the youngest of us, I’d be foolish, I’d be easy to trick. I went to the window, and I looked in her eyes. There’s power in her eyes.”
“Hoyt must have told you not to take such risks. He must have—”
“He wasn’t there, and neither were you. There was power in me as well. Have you forgotten?”
“No. But you were a child.”
“I was a seer, and the blood of demon hunters was in my veins. I looked in her eyes and I told her it was my blood who would end her. My blood who would rid the worlds of her. And for her there would be no eternity in hell, or anywhere. Her damnation would be an end of all. She would be dust, and no spirit would survive.”
“She wouldn’t have been pleased.”
“Her beauty remains even when she shows her true self. That’s another power. I held up Morrigan’s cross, that I wore always around my neck. The light flashed from it, like a sunbeam. She was screaming when she ran.”
“You were always fearless,” he murmured.
“She never came back while I lived, and never came again until you and Hoyt went home together. You’re stronger than you were without him, and he with you. She fears that, hates that. Envies that.”
“Will he live through this?”
“I can’t know. But if he falls, it will be as he lived. With honor.”
“Honor’s cold comfort when you’re in the ground.”
“Then why do you hold your own?” she demanded with a whip of impatience in her voice. “It’s honor that brings you here. Honor that you’ll carry into battle along with your sword. She couldn’t drain it out of you, and just the little she left was enough for you to draw on again. You made this choice. You’ve still more to make. Remember me.”
“Don’t. Don’t leave.”
“Remember me,” she repeated. “Until we see each other again.”
Alone, he sat, lowering his head into his hands. And remembered far too much.
Chapter 13
F or the most part, Cian avoided the tower room where Hoyt and Glenna worked their magicks. Such things often involved considerable light, flashes, fire and other elements unfavorable to vampires.
But in a way he hadn’t—or hadn’t admitted to in centuries—he needed his brother.
He noted before he knocked that one or both of his magically inclined relations had taken the precaution of drawing protection symbols on the tower door to keep the curious out. He’d have preferred to stay out himself, but he knocked.
When Glenna answered, there was a dew of sweat on her skin. Her hair was bundled up, and she’d stripped down to a tank and cotton pants. Cian lifted a brow.
“Am I interrupting?”
“Nothing physical, unfortunately. It’s just viciously hot in here. We’re working on a lot of heat and fire magicks. Sorry.”
“I’m not bothered much by temperature extremes.”
“Oh. Right.” She closed the door behind him. “We’ve got the windows blocked off—keeping everything contained—so you won’t have to worry about the light.”
“It’s nearly sundown.”
He looked over to where Hoyt stood over an enormous copper trough. Hoyt had his hands spread above it, and there was a sensation, even across the room, of more heat, of power and energy.
She was a child, his sister, just as she’d been when he’d last seen her. Her long dark hair falling straight, her eyes deep and blue. And smiling.
“Nola,” he said again. “My God.”
“I thought you would say you have no god.”
“None that would claim me. How can you be here? Are you here?”
“You can see for yourself.” She spread her arms, then did a little turn.
“You lived, and you died. An old woman.”
“You didn’t know the woman, so I’m as you remember me. I missed you, Cian. I looked for you, even knowing better. For years I looked and I hoped for you and for Hoyt. You never came.”
“How could I? You know what I was. Am. You understand that now.”
“Would you have hurt me? Or any of us?”
“I don’t know. I hope not, but I didn’t see any reason to risk it. Why are you here?”
He reached out, but she held up her hand and she shook her head. “I’m not flesh. Only an apparition. Here to remind you that you may not be what you were when you were mine, but you’re not what she would have made you.”
Because he needed a moment, he bent to pick up the dagger he’d dropped, then sheathed it again. “What does it matter?”
“It does. It will.” And apparition or not, her eyes swam as they locked on his. “I had children, Cian.”
“I know.”
“Strong, skilled, gifted. Your blood, too.”
“Were you happy?”
“Oh, aye. I loved a man, and he loved me. We had those children, and lived a good life. And still my brothers left a place in my heart I could never fill. A little ache inside. I would see you, and Hoyt, sometimes. In the water, or the mist, or the fire.”
“There are things I’ve done I wouldn’t have you see.”
“I saw you kill, and feed. I saw you hunt humans as you’d once hunted deer. And I saw you stand by my grave in the moonlight and lay flowers on it. I saw you fight beside the brother we both love. I saw my Cian. Do you remember how you’d pull me up on your horse and ride and ride?”
“Nola.” He rubbed his fingers over his brow. He hurt too much to think of it. “We’re both dead.”
“And we both lived. She came to my window one night.”
“She? Who?” Inside him, he went cold as winter. “Lilith.”
“We’re both dead,” Nola reminded him. “But your hands go to fists and your eyes go sharp as your dagger. Would you still protect me?”
He walked to the fire, kicked idly at the simmering turf. “What happened?”
“It was more than two years after Hoyt left us. Father had died and mother was ill. I knew she would never be strong again, that she would die. I was so sad, so afraid. I woke from sleep in the dark, and there was a face at my window. So beautiful. Golden hair and a sweet smile. She whispered to me, called me by name. ‘Ask me in,’ she said, and promised me a treat.”
Nola tossed back her hair, and her face was full of disdain. “She thought since I was only a girl, the youngest of us, I’d be foolish, I’d be easy to trick. I went to the window, and I looked in her eyes. There’s power in her eyes.”
“Hoyt must have told you not to take such risks. He must have—”
“He wasn’t there, and neither were you. There was power in me as well. Have you forgotten?”
“No. But you were a child.”
“I was a seer, and the blood of demon hunters was in my veins. I looked in her eyes and I told her it was my blood who would end her. My blood who would rid the worlds of her. And for her there would be no eternity in hell, or anywhere. Her damnation would be an end of all. She would be dust, and no spirit would survive.”
“She wouldn’t have been pleased.”
“Her beauty remains even when she shows her true self. That’s another power. I held up Morrigan’s cross, that I wore always around my neck. The light flashed from it, like a sunbeam. She was screaming when she ran.”
“You were always fearless,” he murmured.
“She never came back while I lived, and never came again until you and Hoyt went home together. You’re stronger than you were without him, and he with you. She fears that, hates that. Envies that.”
“Will he live through this?”
“I can’t know. But if he falls, it will be as he lived. With honor.”
“Honor’s cold comfort when you’re in the ground.”
“Then why do you hold your own?” she demanded with a whip of impatience in her voice. “It’s honor that brings you here. Honor that you’ll carry into battle along with your sword. She couldn’t drain it out of you, and just the little she left was enough for you to draw on again. You made this choice. You’ve still more to make. Remember me.”
“Don’t. Don’t leave.”
“Remember me,” she repeated. “Until we see each other again.”
Alone, he sat, lowering his head into his hands. And remembered far too much.
Chapter 13
F or the most part, Cian avoided the tower room where Hoyt and Glenna worked their magicks. Such things often involved considerable light, flashes, fire and other elements unfavorable to vampires.
But in a way he hadn’t—or hadn’t admitted to in centuries—he needed his brother.
He noted before he knocked that one or both of his magically inclined relations had taken the precaution of drawing protection symbols on the tower door to keep the curious out. He’d have preferred to stay out himself, but he knocked.
When Glenna answered, there was a dew of sweat on her skin. Her hair was bundled up, and she’d stripped down to a tank and cotton pants. Cian lifted a brow.
“Am I interrupting?”
“Nothing physical, unfortunately. It’s just viciously hot in here. We’re working on a lot of heat and fire magicks. Sorry.”
“I’m not bothered much by temperature extremes.”
“Oh. Right.” She closed the door behind him. “We’ve got the windows blocked off—keeping everything contained—so you won’t have to worry about the light.”
“It’s nearly sundown.”
He looked over to where Hoyt stood over an enormous copper trough. Hoyt had his hands spread above it, and there was a sensation, even across the room, of more heat, of power and energy.
