Morrigan's Cross - Circle Trilogy 1 Part 31

But she couldn't just sit up there, unarmed and wringing her hands like some helpless female. If the d.a.m.n sun would come out, she wouldn't have to worry. More than that, she thought with a little hiss, if the McKenna boys hadn't wandered off-obviously to snarl at each other in private-she wouldn't have these images in her head of them being ripped to pieces by a pack of vampires.

Pack? Herd? Gang?

What did it matter? They still had fangs and a bad att.i.tude.

Where had they gone? And why had they been out, exposed and vulnerable, so long?

Maybe the pack/herd/gang had already ripped them to shreds and dragged their mutilated bodies off to... And oh, G.o.d, she wished she could turn off the video in her head for five d.a.m.n minutes. Most women just worried about their man getting mugged or run over by a bus. But oh no, she had to get herself tangled up with a guy at war with blood-sucking fiends.

Why couldn't she have fallen for a nice accountant or stockbroker?

She had thought of using her skill and the crystal to look for them. But it seemed...

intrusive, she decided. And rude.

But if they weren't back in ten minutes, she was going to say screw manners and find them.

She hadn't thought through, not completely, the emotional turmoil Hoyt was experiencing, what he missed, and what he risked. More than the rest of them, she decided.

She was thousands of miles away from her family, but not hundreds of years. He was in the home where he'd grown up, but it was no longer his home. And every day, every hour, was another reminder of that.

Bringing back his mother's herb garden had hurt him. She should have thought of that, too. Kept her mouth shut about what she'd needed and wanted. Just made a d.a.m.n list and gone out to find or buy supplies.

She glanced back at some of the herbs she'd already bundled and hung to dry. Small things, everyday things could cause the most pain. Now he was out there somewhere, in the rain, with his brother. The vampire. She didn't believe Cian would attack Hoyt-or didn't want to believe it. But if Cian were angry enough, pushed hard enough, could he control what must be natural urges?

She didn't know the answer.

Added to that, no one could be sure more of Lilith's forces were not out and about, just waiting for another chance.

It was probably silly to worry. They were two men of considerable power, men who knew the land. Neither of them were solely dependent on swords and daggers. Hoyt was armed, and he wore one of the crosses they'd conjured, so he was hardly defenseless.

And it proved a point, didn't it, the two of them being out, moving freely? It proved they wouldn't be held under siege.

No one else was worried, particularly.

Moira was back in the library, studying. Larkin and King were in the training area doing a weapon inventory. She was, undoubtedly, worked up about nothing.

Where the h.e.l.l were they?

As she continued to scan, she spotted movement. Just shadows in the gloom. She grabbed the crossbow, ordered her fingers to stop shaking as she positioned it and herself in the narrow window.

"Just breathe," she told herself. "Just breathe. In and out, in and out."

That breath came out on a whoosh of relief when she saw Hoyt, Cian beside him.

Trooping along, she noted, dripping wet, as if they had all the time in the world, and not a care in it.

Her brows drew together as they came closer. Was that blood on Hoyt's shirt, and a fresh bruise spreading under his right eye?

She leaned out, b.u.mped the stone sill.

And the arrow shot out of the bow with a deadly tw.a.n.g. She actually squealed. She'd hate herself for it later, but the purely female sound of shock and distress ripped out of her as the arrow sliced air and rain.

And landed, just a few inches short of the toe of Hoyt's boot.

Their swords were out, a blur of steel, as they pivoted back-to-back. Under other circ.u.mstances she would have admired the move, the sheer grace and rhythm of it, like a dance step. But at the moment, she was caught between mortification and horror.

"Sorry! Sorry!" She leaned out farther, waved her arm frantically as she shouted. "It was me. It got away from me. I was just... " Oh h.e.l.l with it. "I'm coming down."

She left the weapon where it was, vowing to take a full hour of practice with it before she shot at anything but a target again. Before she set off in a run, she heard the unmistakable sound of male laughter. A quick glance showed her it was Cian, all but doubled over with it.

Hoyt simply stood, staring up at the window.

As she swung down the stairs, Larkin came out of the training room. "Trouble?"

"No, no. Nothing. Everything's fine. It's nothing at all." She could actually feel the blood rise up to heat her cheeks as she dashed for the main floor.

They were coming in the front door, shaking themselves like wet dogs as she sprinted down the last steps.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Remind me not to p.i.s.s you off, Red,"

Cian said easily. "You might aim for my heart and shoot me in the b.a.l.l.s."

"I was just keeping watch for you, and I must've pulled the trigger by mistake. Which I wouldn't have done if the two of you hadn't been gone so d.a.m.n long and had me so worried." "That's what I love about women." Cian slapped his brother's shoulder. "They d.a.m.n near kill you, but in the end it's your own fault. Good luck with that. I'm going to bed."

"I need to check your burns."

"Nag, nag, nag."

"And what happened? Were you attacked? Your mouth's bleeding-yours, too,"

she said to Hoyt. "And your eye's d.a.m.n near swollen shut."

"No, we weren't attacked." There was a world of exasperation in his voice. "Until you nearly shot me in the foot."

"Your faces are all banged up, and your clothes are filthy-ripped. If you weren't... " It came to her, when she saw the expressions on their faces. She had a brother of her own, after all. "You punched each other? Each other?"

"He hit me first."

She gave Cian a look that would have withered stone. "Well, that's just fine, isn't it?

Didn't we go through all this yesterday? Didn't we talk about infighting, how destructive and useless it is?"

"I guess we're going to bed without our supper." "Don't get smart with me." She jabbed a finger into Cian's chest. "I'm here worried half sick, and the two of you are out there wrestling around like a couple of idiot puppies."

"You nearly put an arrow in my foot,"

Hoyt reminded her. "I think we're quits on foolish behavior for one day."

She only hissed out a breath. "Into the kitchen, both of you. I'll do something about those cuts and bruises. Again."

"I'm having my bed," Cian began.

"Both of you. Now. You don't want to mess with me at the moment."

As she sailed off, Cian rubbed a finger gently on his split lip. "It's been a long while, but I don't recall you having a particular fondness for bossy women."

"I didn't, previously. But I understand them well enough to know we might as well be after letting her have her way on this. And the fact is, my eye's paining me."

When they came in, Glenna was setting what she needed out on the table. She had the kettle on the boil, and her sleeves rolled up.

"Do you want blood?" she said to Cian, with enough frost in the words to have him clearing his throat. It amazed him that he actually felt chagrined. It was a sensation he hadn't felt in...

too long to remember. Obviously living so closely with humans was a bad influence.

"The tea you're making will do, thanks."

"Take off your shirt."

There was a smart comment on the tip of his tongue, she could all but see it. He proved himself a wise man by swallowing it.

He stripped it off, sat.

"I'd forgotten about the burns." Hoyt examined them now. There was no longer any blistering, and they'd gone down to a dull, ugly red. "If I'd remembered," he said as he sat across from Cian, "I'd have put more blows into your chest."

"Typical," Glenna said under her breath, and was ignored.

"You don't fight altogether the way you used to. You use your feet more, and elbows."

And Hoyt could still feel the aching result of them. "Then there's that leaping off the ground."

"Martial arts. I have black belts in several of them. Master status," Cian explained. "You need to put more time into training."

Hoyt rubbed his sore ribs. "And so I will." Weren't they chummy all of a sudden?

Glenna thought. What was it about men that made them decide to be pals after they'd smashed their fists into each other's faces?

She poured hot water into the pot, and while it steeped came to the table with her salve.

"I would've said three weeks to heal with what I can do, considering the extent of the burns." She sat, slicked salve on her fingers.

"I'm amending that to three days."

"We can be hurt, and seriously. But unless it's a killing blow, we heal-and quickly."

"Lucky for you, especially as you've got a ma.s.s of nice bruising to go with the burns. But you don't regenerate," she continued as she applied the salve. "If, say, we were to cut off one of their arms, it wouldn't grow back."

"There's a gruesome and interesting thought. No. I've never heard of anything like that happening."

"Then if we can't get to the heart or the head, we can go for a limb."

She went to the sink to wash the salve from her hands, and make cold packs for the bruising. "Here." She handed one to Hoyt.

"Hold that on your eye."

He sniffed at it, then complied. "You shouldn't have worried." Cian winced. "Bad tact. Wiser to say: 'Ah, my love, we're sorry we worried you. We were selfish and inconsiderate, should likely be flogged for it. We hope you'll forgive us.'

Thicken the brogue a bit as well. Women are fools for brogues."

"Then kiss her feet, I suppose."

"Actually, you aim for the a.s.s. a.s.s kissing is a tradition that never goes out of style.

You'll need patience with him, Glenna. Hoyt's still working on the learning curve."

She brought the tea to the table, then surprised them both when she laid a hand on Cian's cheek. "And you're going to teach him how to deal with the modern woman?"

"Well, he's a bit pitiful, is all."

Her lips curved as she lowered her head, brushed them over Cian's. "You're forgiven.

Drink your tea."

"Just that easy?" Hoyt complained. "He gets a pat on the cheek and a kiss with it? You didn't nearly put an arrow into him."

"Women are a constant mystery." Cian spoke quietly. "And one of the wonders of the world. I'll take this up with me." He got to his feet. "I'm wanting some dry clothes." "Drink all of it." Glenna spoke without turning as she took up another bottle. "It'll help."

"I will then. Let me know if he doesn't learn fast enough to suit you. I wouldn't quibble with being second choice."

"That's just his way," Hoyt told her when Cian left the room. "A kind of teasing."

"I know. So you made friends again while you were b.l.o.o.d.ying each other."

"It's true enough I hit him first. I spoke to him of our mother, and the garden, and he was cold. Even though I could see what was under that cold, I... well, I lashed out, and... After, he took me to where our family's buried. And there you have it."

She turned now, and all the pity in her heart swirled into her eyes. "It must've been hard for both of you to be there."

"It makes it real to me, that as I sit here now, they're gone. It didn't seem real before.

Not solid and real."

She moved to him, dabbed her tincture on his facial bruises. "And for him, to have lived all this time with no family at all. Another cruelty of what was done to him. To all of them. We don't think of that do we, when we talk about war, and how to destroy them? They were people once, just like Cian." "They mean to kill us, Glenna. Every one of us that has a heartbeat."

"I know. I know. Something drained them of humanity. But they were human once, Hoyt, with families, lovers, hopes. We don't think of that. Maybe we can't."

She brushed the hair back from his face.