Morrigan's Cross Page 40

“Perfectly.”

She lifted the bow, steadied, sighted. And let the arrow fly.

Glenna heard the whiz, then a faint thunk as the arrow hit home. “Wow. Got ourselves a Robin Hood.”

“Nicely shot,” Cian said in mild tones, then turned to walk away. He sensed the movement even before he heard his brother’s sharp command.

When he turned, Moira had another arrow ready, and aimed at him.

He sensed King prepare to rush forward, and held up a hand to stop him. “Be sure to hit the heart,” he advised Moira. “Otherwise you’ll just annoy me. Let it be,” he snapped to Hoyt. “It’s her choice.”

The bow trembled a moment, then Moira lowered it. Lowered her eyes as well. “I need sleep. I’m sorry, I need sleep.”

“Of course you do.” Glenna took the bow from her, set it aside. “I’ll take you down, get you settled.” Glenna aimed a look at Cian every bit as sharp as the arrow as she led Moira from the room.

“I’m sorry,” Moira said again. “I’m ashamed.”

“Don’t be. You’re overtired, overworked. Over everything. We all are. And it’s barely begun. A few hours’ sleep is what we all need.”

“Do they? Do they sleep?”

Glenna understood what she meant. The vampires. Cian. “Yes, it seems they do.”

“I wish it was morning so I could see the sun. They crawl back into their holes with the sun. I’m too tired to think.”

“Then don’t. Here, let’s get you undressed.”

“I lost my pack in the woods, I think. I don’t have a nightdress.”

“We’ll figure that out tomorrow. You can sleep naked. Do you want me to sit with you awhile?”

“No. Thank you, no.” Tears welled up and were willed back. “I’m being a child.”

“No. Just an exhausted woman. You’ll be better in the morning. Good night.”

Glenna debated going back up, then simply turned toward her own room. She didn’t give a damn if the men thought she was copping out, she wanted sleep.

The dreams chased her, through the tunnels of the vampire’s cave where the screams of the tortured were like slashing knives in her mind, into her heart. Everywhere she turned in the labyrinth, each time she raced into the dark opening, like a mouth waiting to devour her, the screams followed.

And worse than the screams, even worse, was the laughter.

The dreams hunted her along the rocky shore of a boiling sea where red lightning hacked black sky, black sea. There the wind tore at her, there the rocks pierced up out of the ground to stab at her hands, her feet until both were bloody.

Into the dense woods that smelled of blood and death, where the shadows were so thick she could feel them brushing over her skin like cold fingers.

She could hear what craved her coming with the papery snap of wings, the slithery slide of snakes, the sly scrape of claw on earth.

She heard the wolf howl, and the sound was hunger.

They were everywhere she was, and she had nothing but her empty hands and pounding heart. Still she ran blindly, the scream trapped in her burning throat.

She burst out of the trees and onto a cliff above a raging sea. Below her, waves lashed at rocks that rose up, sharp as razors. Somehow in her terror she’d run in a circle, and was back above the cave that held something even death feared.

The wind whipped at her, and power sang in it. His power, the hot, clean power of the sorcerer. She reached for it, strained toward it. But it slipped through her shaking fingers and left her nothing but herself.

When she turned, Lilith stood, regal in red, her beauty luminous against the velvet black. At each side was a black wolf, quivering for the kill. Lilith stroked her hands over their backs, hands that glittered with rings.

And when she smiled, Glenna felt a terrible pull inside her own belly. A deep and terrible yearning.

“The devil or the deep blue.” With a laugh, Lilith snapped her fingers for the wolves to sit. “The gods never give their servants decent choices, do they? I have better.”

“You’re death.”

“No, no, no. I’m life. That’s where they lie. They’re death, flesh and bone moldering in the dirt. What do they give you these days? Seventy-five, eighty years? How small, how limiting.”

“I’ll take what I’m given.”

“Then you’d be a fool. I think you’re smarter than that, more practical. You know you can’t win. You’re already tired, already weary, already questioning. I’ll offer you a way out, and more. So much more.”

“To be like you? To hunt and kill? To drink blood?”

“Like champagne. Oh, the first taste of it. I envy you that. That first heady taste, that moment when everything falls away but the dark.”

“I like the sun.”

“With that complexion?” Lilith said with a g*y laugh. “You’d fry like bacon after an hour on the beach. I’ll show you the coolness. The cool, cool dark. It’s inside you already, just waiting to be wakened. Can you feel it?”

Because she could, Glenna only shook her head.

“Liar. If you come to me, Glenna, you’ll stand by my side. I’ll give you life, eternal life. Eternal youth and beauty. Power so beyond what they’ve given you. You’ll rule your own world. I would give you that, a world of your own.”

“Why would you?”

“Why not? I’ll have so many. And I’d enjoy the company of a woman such as yourself. What are men, really, but tools to us? If you want them, you’ll take them. This is a great gift I offer you.”

“It’s damnation you offer me.”

Her laugh was lilting and seductive. “Gods frighten children with talk of hell and damnation. They use it to keep you bound. Ask Cian if he would trade his existence, his eternity, his handsome youth and lithe body for the chains and traps of mortality. Never, I promise you. Come. Come with me, and I’ll give you pleasure beyond pleasure.”

When she stepped closer, Glenna held up both hands, drew what she could out of her chilled blood and struggled to cast a protective circle.

Lilith simply struck out a hand. The tender blue of her irises began to redden. “Do you think such puny magic will hold me? I’ve drunk the blood of sorcerers, feasted on witches. They’re in me, as you will be. Come willing, and take life. Fight, and take death.”

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