by Nora Roberts
“That one first.” Davey pointed to the woman.
She screamed and struggled as the guard dragged her out of the cage, while another guard beat back at the ones with her who tried to pull her back inside.
Everything inside Larkin strained to do something. Anything.
Davey bent down, sniffing at the shuddering woman to imprint her scent. “You’re mine now, and I get to play with you as long as I want. Isn’t that right, Mama?”
“That’s right, my darling.”
“Let her go,” Davey ordered the guard. Then his eyes flashed red as he looked at the woman. “Run. Run, run! Hide-and-seek!” he shouted when she stumbled out.
He leaped onto the wall, clung there as he shot a grin over his shoulder at Lilith. And he slithered out into the dark.
“It’s nice to see him having such a good time. Turn the other loose in, oh, fifteen minutes. I’ll be with the wizard for the time being.”
He could come back, Larkin told himself. Once he’d done what he’d come to do, he could go back, create a diversion, unlock the cages. At least give the prisoners a fighting chance to escape. To survive.
But now, blocking out the moans and screams along with his own needs, he followed Lilith.
The prison was separated from what he supposed were living quarters, storage and work areas, by a long tunnel. She’d built a kind of mansion under the ground, he realized. Chamber flowed after chamber, some of them richly furnished, some sealed off with doors and guarded.
Two, a man and female both in black jeans and sweaters, carried fresh linens down the tunnel. Obviously servants, he decided, and thought they were likely human servants. Both stopped as Lilith approached, bowed deeply.
Lilith glided on as if they weren’t there.
He heard the sounds of combat and paused to looked down a tunnel. A training area, not that dissimilar from what they used at Cian’s. Here the creatures, male and female, practiced with sword or mace, dagger, or bare hands.
Two prisoners, unarmed and shackled, were being used much as he and his circle used practice dummies.
He saw the one called Lora clashing steel with a male of superior size. They wore no protective gear, and the swords, he saw, were honed to a killing edge.
Lora leaped up and over her sparring partner, the movement so fast it was merely a blur. Even as he pivoted, she ran the sword through his chest.
And as he fell, she leaped on him. “You miss that one every time.” She leaned down, playfully lapped at the blood. “If you were human, mon cher, you’d be dead.”
“No one can best you with a sword.” His breathing was ragged, but he reached up to stroke a hand down her cheek. “I don’t know why I try.”
“If Lilith didn’t need me, we’d go another round.” She trailed a finger down his check, licked the blood from it.
“Perhaps later…toward dawn.”
“If the queen doesn’t want me, I’ll come to you.” She leaned down again, and the kiss was long, ferocious.
She sheathed the bloody sword and strode out, with Larkin behind her.
She barely paused as the woman who’d been freed to run fell in front of her weeping. Lora merely stepped over her, glanced up to the pair of red eyes glowing in the dark. “Playing tag, Davey?”
“I wanted to play hide-and-seek, but she keeps falling down. Make her get up, Lora! Make her run some more. I haven’t finished the game yet.”
Lora let out a long-suffering sigh. “Ca va.” She crouched down, lifted the woman’s head by the hair. “If you don’t run and keep our darling Davey amused, I’ll cut off your fingers, one at a time. Then your toes.” She got up, dragging the woman with her. “Now, allez! Scamper.”
When the woman ran off weeping, Lora looked back up at Davey. “Why don’t you give her more of a head start? It’s more sporting and the game will last longer.”
“It’d be more fun if you played. It’s always more fun with you.”
“And there’s nothing I’d like better, but your mother wants me now. Perhaps later we can have another game.” She blew him a kiss and continued on.
Sick to the depths, Larkin followed her.
She entered a chamber. Larkin felt the ripple of magic even as he darted in after her. The door shut with a hollow thud.
“Ah, Lora. We’ve been waiting for you.”
“I was finishing up a bout with Lucius, then I ran into Davey. He’s having such a good time.”
“He’s been pining for a game.” Lilith held out a hand. Lora walked over, slipped hers into it. Together, nearly cheek-to-cheek, they looked at the man who stood in the center of the room.
He wore black robes edged in red. His hair was a thick mane of silver around a face that boasted eyes dark as onyx, a long, hooked nose, a thin, unsmiling mouth.
There was a fire behind him that burned without hearth or log or turf. Suspended above it was a cauldron that spilled out pale green smoke, the same color as the light that glowed sickly through the caves. Two long tables held vials and jars. Whatever swam in them looked viscous, and alive.
“Midir.” Lilith gestured toward the man with a wide sweep of her arm. “I wanted Lora with us when we had this discussion. She keeps me calm. As you know I’ve needed time to compose myself after that disaster a few days ago.”
She wandered over, picked up a carafe, poured the red liquid from it into a glass. Sniffed. “Fresh?” she asked him.
“Yes, my lady. Tapped and prepared for you.”
She sipped, offered the glass to Lora. “I should ask if you’re fully recovered from your injuries.”
“I am well, my lady.”
“I’d apologize for losing my temper, but you disappointed me, Midir. Extremely. Your punishment would have been more severe if Lora hadn’t cooled that temper. They snatched those cows out from under my nose. They left an insulting message on my very doorstep. It was for you to protect my home from such matters, and you failed, miserably.”
“I am prostrate, my lady.” He knelt, bowed his head. “I was not prepared for the attempt, nor for the force of the power they held. It will never happen again.”
“It certainly won’t if I give you to Lora. Do you know how long she can keep a man alive?” She glanced over at her companion with a soft and knowing smile.
“There was the one in Budapest,” Lora recalled. “I kept him six months. I could have gone longer, but I got bored with him. I don’t think Midir would bore me for years. But…”
Lora ran her hand up and down Lilith’s back. “He’s of use, chérie. He has great power, and he’s bound to you, n’est-ce pas?”
“He made me promises, a great many promises. Don’t speak,” she snapped when Midir lifted his head again. “Because of those promises, he’s yet to feel my bite. But you’re my dog, Midir, and never forget it.”
Slowly now, he raised his head. “I serve you, Majesty, and only you. I sought you out, my lady, to give you the portal, so you may walk between worlds, and rule them all.”
“And so you can walk between them, wizard, plucking power like daisies with my army at your back. And still this power broke when struck by what the mortals wielded.”
“They should never have gotten by him, it’s true.” Again, Lora soothed. “He allowed them to humiliate you, and that is unforgivable. Still, we are more with him than without him. With him, we’ll have all by Samhain.”
“See? She keeps me calm.” Lilith took the goblet back from Lora as they stood, arms circling each other’s waists. “You’re alive because of what she said—as I agree with her. And because you at least had the good sense to bring on the dark once we understood we had been breached. Oh, stand up, stand up.”
He rose. “My lady, may I speak?”
“I left the tongue in your mouth.”
“I have pledged my power and my life to you, and have dedicated that life and power for more than two hundred years to you. I have made this place for you, as you commanded, under the ground, and cloaked it from the
human eye. It is I who carved the portal so that you and your army may travel between worlds, so that you, my queen, may go to Geall and ravage, and reign.”
She angled her head and a pretty smile curved her mouth. “Yes. But what have you done for me lately?”
“Even my power has limits, my lady, and it takes a great deal to hold the cloak. The magic these others hold is strong, and still, in the end, I felled them.”
“True, true. But after they picked my pockets.”
“They are formidable, my lady.” He folded his hands so they disappeared within the wide sleeves of his robes. “Less would hardly be worthy of you. And your triumph will be only greater when you destroy them.”
“Sweet talker.”
“He did nearly get me into the house,” Lora said. “So close, I could almost taste her. It was a good spell, a strong one to bend the hunter’s will. We could try it again.”
“We could,” Midir agreed. “But it is only two weeks until we reopen the portal. I will need my strength for that, Majesty. And another sacrifice.”
“Another?” Lilith rolled her eyes. “How tedious. And a virgin again, I assume.”
“If you would, my lady. In the meanwhile, I have a gift which I hope pleases you.”
“More diamonds?” She tapped a hand in front of her mouth in a delicate yawn. “I grow weary.”
“No, my lady, not diamonds. More precious, I think.” He picked a small hand mirror by its bone handle, offered it.
“Do you toy with me? Such a trinket only…” She let out a gasp as she twirled it by the handle. “Is this my face!” Stunned, she touched a hand to her own cheek, stared into the glass.
It was as if she looked through a thin mist, but she could see the shape of her face, her eyes, her mouth. The joy of it brought tears to her eyes.
“Oh. Oh, I can see who I am. I’m beautiful. See, my eyes are blue. Such a pretty blue.”
“Let me—” Lora squeezed close, her eyes widening as she saw herself in the little glass with Lilith. “Oh! C’est magnifique! Je suis belle.”
“Look at us, Lora. Oh, oh, see how wonderful we are!”
“So much better than a photograph or a drawing. See, we move! Look how our cheeks press together.”
“I am here,” Lilith murmured. “So long ago, before I was given the gift, I saw my face in polished glass, in the clear water of a lake. The shape of it, and how my hair tumbled down to frame that shape.”
She touched her hair now, watching her fingers move through it. “The way my lips, my cheeks would move with a smile, the way my eyebrows will lift and fall. And last, the last time I saw this face, it was in the eyes of the one who sired me. Two thousand years have passed since I’ve looked into my own eyes.” A tear trickled down her cheek, and its reflection enchanted her. “I’m here,” she said quietly, a voice thick with emotion. “I’m here.”
“You’re pleased, Your Majesty?” Midir lowered his folded hands to his waist. “I thought it your fondest wish.”
“I have never had such a gift. Look! How my mouth moves when I speak. I want a great one, Midir, a big one so I can see the whole of me at once.”
“I believe it can be done, but it would take time and power. The portal…”
“Of course, of course.” Lilith angled the mirror from overhead to try to see more of herself. “I’m as greedy as Davey, demanding more even as I hold a treasure in my hands. Midir, you’ve pleased me beyond measure. I’ll have what you need brought to you.”
When he bowed she walked to him, touched his cheek. “Beyond measure,” she repeated. “I won’t forget that you troubled to touch my heart.”
Larkin scurried out after them. Since they spoke of nothing now but the mirror and their own beauty, he veered off to look for their arsenal, to get a clearer idea of their numbers.
He streaked down darkened tunnels, squeezed under doors. In one chamber he found three vampires feasting on a man. When the man moaned, Larkin’s shock made him careless. One of them spotted him, and lifted its bloody face in a smile.
“Wouldn’t mind a little rat for dessert.”
As he pounced, Larkin shot under the doorway again, and across to the next, streaking between the feet of the guard and under.
Into the arsenal.
Weapons for a thousand, he realized. For a thousand and more. Sword and lance, bow and ax, all stored with a military precision that told him this was indeed an army, and not just a pack of animals.
And this they would take to Geall to destroy it.
Well, he’d give them some trouble first.
Turning into a man, he took the single torch from the wall to set the tables, the chests, the cabinets to light.
Distraction and destruction, he thought, tossing the torch aside before turning back into the rat again.
As fast as he could, he went back to the area where the prisoners were kept. He saw the man the boy had chosen was no longer in his cage. So he was too late to save him or the woman. But there were others, more than twenty others, and he would give them a chance at least.
There was only one guard now, leaning up against the wall and despite the moans and pleas, he seemed to be half dozing.
It would take speed and it would take luck, Larkin thought. He was counting on having both. He changed into a man, grabbed the sword at the vampire’s side, swung it hard.
As the dust exploded, the screams from the cages were deafening.
“You have to run.” He grabbed the keys from the hook on the wall and began to unlock cages. He shoved the sword into the hands of a man who looked at it blankly.
“You can hurt them with that,” Larkin said quickly. “Kill them if you cut off the head. Kill them with fire. There are torches in the tunnels. Use them. Here.” He shoved the keys into another pair of hands. “Unlock the rest. Then run. Some of you may get out. I’m going to do what I can to keep the way clear.”
Though he knew he risked draining his energy, he changed once more as the chaos whirled around him. Into a wolf that sprang out of the doorway.
He veered left, hoping to buy time and charged the first vampire he saw. He took it by surprise, ripped out its throat. Muzzle dripping, he ran.
He’d hoped the fire he’d set in the arsenal would keep many of them busy. But he heard no alarm as yet.
He saw two carrying bodies to a stack of more dead. Tossed, he thought, like offal. As he ran, he changed, and as he changed he reached for a sword.
He took them both with one blow.
There was shouting now, not the human screaming, but sounds of alarm and fury. Once more he changed into the wolf to use its speed. He could do no more than he had done.
He swung down a tunnel, and he saw the boy.
He was crouched on the ground, feasting on the man who’d been in the cage. The child’s shiny hair was streaked with blood, and it dripped from his fingers, from his lips.
The low growl that rumbled out of Larkin’s throat had the boy looking up. “Doggie!” Davey grinned, horribly. “None for you until I’m finished. I’m done with that one, so you can have it if you want.”
He gestured toward the woman who lay facedown a few feet away.
“She wasn’t as much fun as this one, so I finished quick.”
Beyond rage, Larkin bunched to spring.
“Davey, there you are!” The one who’d sparred with Lora clipped quickly down the tunnel. “Your mother wants you in your chambers. Some of the humans are loose, and they’ve managed to set a fire.”
“But I haven’t finished yet.”
“You’ll have to finish later. Are these both your kills?” He crouched down to give Davey a congratulatory pat on the back. “Good for you. But if you eat any more, you’ll just get sick. I’ll send someone down, have these taken to the heap, but for now, you need to come with me.”
He glanced over as he spoke, eyeing Larkin. “One of your mother’s wolves? I thought she’d sent them all—”
Larkin saw the change on its fa
ce, the sudden bracing of its body. He leaped, but missed the throat as the vampire blocked the charge. The force of the blow hurled Larkin against the wall, but he was up quickly, charging again before the thing could clear its sword.
There was screaming, horrible screaming and his own snarls and snaps. The part of him that was wolf lusted for blood as much as the man inside it lusted for vengeance.
He sank his claws into the thing’s shoulder, its chest.
Then there was pain, unspeakable pain as the child leaped on his back and used his fangs.
With a howl, Larkin reared back, managed to shake the boy off. But he was up quickly, and the one on the ground was reaching for its sword.
The wolf was done, and Larkin prayed he had enough left in him to get out, and away.
His light sparked, shimmered weakly. There was more pain, and with it now a dragging weakness. But he became the mouse, small and quick, slipping into shadows and hunting the sound of the sea.
The fire in the back of his neck burned to the bone. The caves echoed with screams, running feet. He was nearly trod on as his strength and his speed wavered, but continued to head toward the thin wash of moonlight, the roar of the sea.
There were people running, clawing their way up the cliff wall. Some carried the weak, the wounded. Larkin knew if he attempted a change again, he’d need to be carried himself.
He could do nothing more. With what he had left, he dragged his small body to a rock, wedged himself behind it.
The last thing he saw was the flicker of stars going out as dawn crept closer.
Chapter 8
“He should have been back by now.” From the window in the parlor, Blair watched dawn break through the long night. “On his way back anyway. Maybe you should start again.” She turned around to Hoyt and Glenna. “Just start again.”
“Blair.” Glenna crossed over, ran a hand up and down Blair’s arm. “I promise you, as soon as he can be seen, we’ll see.”
“It was a stupid idea. Reckless and stupid. What was I thinking? I sent him in there.”
“No.” Now Glenna gripped both of her arms. “He went in, and we all agreed. We’re all equal in this. None of us bears all the burden.”
“He went in there without a weapon, without a shield.” She closed her hand over her crosses.
“He could hardly fly or crawl or slither around a nest of vampires with a cross around his neck,” Cian pointed out. “A beacon like that? He wouldn’t have lasted five minutes.”
“So what? He lasts ten going in naked.”
“He’s not dead.” Moira spoke quietly, and continued to sit on the floor, staring at the fire. “I’d know. I think we’d all know. The circle would be broken.” She looked over her shoulder at Hoyt. “Isn’t that so?”
“I believe it is, yes. It may be as simple as he needed to rest. Maintaining other shapes must take considerable energy and concentration.”
“It does. That’s why he eats like a plow horse.” Scooting to face the room, Moira managed a weak smile. “And he’s never, that I know, held a shape above two or three hours.”
Another nightmare, Blair thought. To imagine him skulking around the caves as the rat they’d agreed on, then, whoops, he’s a human without so much as a Popsicle stick to defend himself.
Alive, she could hold on to that. It made sense that they’d feel it if he’d been killed. But he could be in a cage, hurt, being tortured.
“I’m going to go make some food.” Glenna gave Blair’s shoulder a comforting pat.
“I’ll do it. I should practice more with the cooking,” Moira said as she got to her feet. “And I need something to do besides sit and worry.”
“I’ll give you a hand.” Glenna draped an arm over Moira’s shoulders. “I’ll bring out some coffee in a few minutes.”
“I’m going out.” Hoyt pushed himself out of the chair. “It may be I can draw something, sense something, outside the confines of the house.”
