Nora Roberts's Circle Trilogy

by Nora Roberts

While the ground continued to shake, she gripped Larkin’s sword, drew her own. And with the sea roaring at her back, faced the blank wall of the cliff.

  Overhead, the hawk swept through the air over the cliffs. He could see keenly enough to pick out individual blades of grass, the petals of the rugged wildflowers that forced their way through fissures in rock to seek the sun. He saw the long ribbon of the road, the wide plate of the sea, and all the way to where the land met it again.

  The hawk yearned to fly, and to hunt. The man inside it pitted his will against that yearning even as he skimmed the sky.

  He could see them below, his cousin, the witch and the sorcerer, hands linked as they stood on the quaking ground. There was light, wild and white, in them, around them, a spinning circle that rose up in a tower to shake the air even as the ground.

  The wind caught at him, plucked at his wings like greedy fingers. In it he could hear their voices, blended together as one, and could feel their power, a hot stream that washed the whirling air.

  Then that wind slapped at him, and sent him into a rolling, spinning dive.

  Blair heard the hawk cry, saw it spiral. Her heart rolled up into her throat, lodged there as Larkin tumbled through the air. It stayed there, a hot, hard ball even as the hawk sheered up, wings spread. Then dived to land gracefully at her feet.

  For a moment, she saw the melding of them, hawk and man. Then Larkin stood facing her, his breathing labored, his face pale.

  “What the hell was that? What the hell happened? I thought you were going to splat. Your nose is bleeding.”

  Her voice was tinny to his ears so he shook his head as if to clear it. “Not surprising.” He swiped at the blood. “Something’s happening up there, something very big from the feel of it. The light damn near blinded me, and the wind’s a bloody wicked one. I couldn’t tell, not for certain, if they’re in trouble. But I think we’d best go up and make certain.”

  “Okay.” She started to hand him his sword, and the ground heaved. Off-balance, she pitched forward. He managed to catch her, but the momentum threw him back against the rock, and nearly sent both of them into the water.

  “Sorry, sorry.” But it was brace against him or fall. “You hurt?”

  “Knocked the bleeding breath out of me again is all.”

  The next spume of surf soaked them both. “Screw this. We’d better get out of here.”

  “I’m for that. Steady now.”

  They linked their arms around each other’s waists, struggling to stay upright. Rock and sod began to spill down the cliff face, making the idea of climbing up it again unappealing if not impossible.

  “I can get us up to the others,” he told her. “You’ll just have to hold on, and I’ll—”

  He broke off as the wall itself began to waver, to change. To open.

  “Well now,” he murmured, “what have we here?”

  “Spell broke down, or was broken down. Could be trouble.”

  “I’m hoping.”

  “Right there with you.”

  Even as he spoke, they rushed out. Big and burly, and armed with swords.

  “How can they—”

  “Not vamps.” Blair pushed away from Larkin, planted her feet. She figured the quaking ground was as much a problem for the enemy as it was for her and Larkin. “Fight now, explain later.”

  She swung her sword up, blocked the first blow. The force rippled down her arm even as the ground buckled under her feet. She used it, going down, blocking again as she snatched one of the stakes out of her belt.

  She jammed it through his leg. He stumbled, howled, and she came up with her sword.

  One down, she thought, and refused the pity. She pivoted, nearly went down as the ground came up, and clashed steel with the one who sprang behind her.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Larkin taking on two at once. “Bear claw!” she shouted.

  “There’s an idea.” His arm thickened, lengthened. With the keen black claws that curled out, he swiped even as his sword swung in his other hand.

  They were holding their own, Blair thought, but no more than that. There was no room to maneuver, not when a wrong step could have them tumbling into the sea.

  Bashed on the rocks, swept away. Worse than the sword. Still, they couldn’t climb, not now. There was no choice but to stand and fight.

  She fell, rolled, and the sword plunged into the rocky ground an inch from her face. She kicked up, pumping hard, and sent her opponent into the sea.

  Too many of them, too many, she thought as she gained her feet and staggered. But it could be worse. It could…

  The light changed, dimmed. With the false twilight came the first splatters of rain.

  “Christ, Jesus Christ. She’s bringing the dark.”

  With it, vampires began to slink out of the cave. The sea, and a hard, drowning death suddenly seemed the better alternative.

  Calculating quickly, she sent fire rippling down her blade. They could block them with fire, hold some back, destroy others. But too many would get through.

  “We can’t win this, Larkin. Make like a hawk, get to the others. Get them out of here. I’ll hold them off as long as I can.”

  “Don’t be foolish. Get on.” He threw her his sword. “Hold on.”

  He changed, but it wasn’t a hawk that stood beside her. The dragon’s gold wings spread, and as it reared back, its tail sliced down the first that came out of the caves.

  She didn’t think, just leaped on its back, locking her legs around its serpentine body. She sliced out to the left, hacking at one that charged. Then she was rising up, streaming through the gloom and the mist.

  And she couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it. She let out a wild cry of sheer delight, throwing back her head as she stabbed the swords into the sky. And set them both to flame.

  The wind rushed by her, and the ground rushed away. She sheathed one sword so that she could run a hand over the dragon. The scales, glimmering gold, felt like polished jewels, sun-warmed and smooth. Looking down, she saw earth and sea, and swirling pockets of mists that blanketed the jaws of the rocks.

  Then she saw, on the high cliff, three figures sprawled on the tough, wet grass.

  “Get down there. Get down there fast!” She knew he could hear and understand her, in any form, but she might have saved her breath.

  The rush of speed slapped her back as he arrowed toward the ground. She was jumping off even as he landed, and began to change back.

  The fear was bright silver in her belly, but she saw Hoyt push himself up to sit, saw him reach for Glenna. His nose was bleeding, as hers was. When Larkin reached Moira, turned her over, Blair saw blood on her lips.

  “We’ve got to move, we’ve got to go. They could follow us, and if they want to, they can move fast.” She pulled Glenna to her feet. “Let’s move faster.”

  “I’m woozy. Sorry, I…”

  “Lean on me. Larkin—”

  But he’d already chosen his own way. She shoved at her wet hair as she pushed Glenna toward the horse he’d become. “Get up. You and Moira. Hoyt and I are right behind you. Can you walk?” she asked Hoyt.

  “I can.” If his legs were shaky, he still moved, and quickly as Larkin galloped off. “So much time passed. It’s dusk.”

  “No, she made it. Lilith did it. She’s got more power than I figured.”

  “No. No, not her.” Hoyt was forced to brace a hand on Blair’s shoulder for balance. “She has someone, something with the power to do this.”

  “We’ll figure it out.” She half carried, half dragged him to the van where Larkin was already helping the other women inside “Glenna, keys. I’ve got the wheel.”

  Glenna fumbled them out of her pocket. “Just need a minute, a few minutes to recover. That was…it was rugged. Moira?”

  “I’m all right. Just a bit dizzy is all. And a bit sick in the stomach. I’ve never…I’ve never touched anything like that.”

  Blair drove, fast enough to cover some distance,
and kept an eye on the rearview for a tail. “Earthquakes, false dusk, a little lightning. Hell of a ride.” She slowed as the sun began to break through again. “Looks like she gave up on us. For now. Nobody’s hurt? Just shook up?”

  “Not hurt, no.” Hoyt gathered Glenna against him, brushed the tears from her face with his lips. “Don’t. A ghra, don’t weep.”

  “There were so many. So many of them. Screaming.”

  Blair took two careful breaths. “Don’t do this to yourselves. You tried, you gave it your best. It was always a long shot you’d be able to get anyone out of there.”

  “But we did.” Glenna turned her face into Hoyt’s shoulder. “Five. We got five out, then we couldn’t hold it any longer.”

  Stunned, Blair pulled off to the shoulder, turned around. “You got five out? Where are they?”

  “Hospital. I thought…”

  “Glenna, she thought if we could get them out, we could transport them to a place where they would be safe, and be cared for.” Moira looked down at her empty hands.

  “Smart. Really smart. It gets them medical attention fast, and keeps us from having to answer awkward questions. Congratulations.”

  Glenna lifted her head, and her eyes were ravaged. “There were so many of them. So many more.”

  “And five people are alive, and safe.”

  “I know, you’re right, I know.” She straightened, rubbed her face dry with her hands. “I’m just shaken up.”

  “We did what we came to do. More than.”

  “What were they?” Larkin asked her. “What were they you and I fought back there? Not vampires, you said.”

  “Half-vamps. Still human. They’ve been bitten, probably multiple times, but not drained. And not allowed to mix blood; not changed.”

  “Then why would they fight us?”

  “They’re controlled. The best term, I guess, is thrall. They’re under a thrall, and do as they’re ordered. I counted seven, all big guys. We took out four. She probably doesn’t have any more, or not many. It’s got to be tough to keep them under control.”

  “There was a fight?” Glenna asked.

  Blair pulled back onto the road. “The caves opened. She sent out the first wave, the half-vamps. Then she did her little weather trick.”

  “You thought I would leave you there,” Larkin broke in. “You thought I would leave you to them.”

  “First priority is to stay alive.”

  “That may be, but I don’t desert a friend, or a fellow soldier. What manner of man do you think I am?”

  “That’s a question.”

  “The answer isn’t a coward,” he said tightly.

  “It’s not, and a long way from it.” Would she have left him? No, she admitted. Couldn’t have, and would have been insulted to be told to go. “It was all I could think of to keep the rest of us alive, to keep her from winning. How was I supposed to know you had a dragon on your repertoire?”

  In the back seat, Glenna choked. “A dragon?”

  “Sorry you missed it. It was wild. But, Jesus, Larkin, a dragon? Someone must have seen it. Of course, everyone else will think they’re nuts, but still.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Because, you know, dragon, and how they don’t exist.”

  Fascinated now, he swiveled in his seat. “You don’t have dragons here?”

  Blair shifted her gaze toward him. “No,” she said slowly.

  “Sure that’s a pity. Moira, did you hear that? They’ve no dragons here in Ireland.”

  Moira opened her tired eyes. “I think she’s meaning they don’t have them anywhere in this world.”

  “Well, that can’t be. Can it?”

  “No dragons,” Blair confirmed. “No unicorns or winged horses, no centaurs.”

  “Ah well.” He reached over to pat her arm. “You have cars, and they’re interesting. I’m starved,” he said after a moment. “Are you starved? That many changes, it just empties me out. Could we stop somewhere, do you think, buy some of those crisps in the bag?”

  It wasn’t exactly a victory feast, munching on salt-and-vinegar chips and chugging soda from a bottle, but it got them home.

  When they arrived, Blair stuck the keys in her pocket. “You three go inside. Larkin and I can take care of the weapons. You’re still pretty pale.”

  Hoyt lifted the bag holding the blood he’d bought at the butcher’s. “I’ll take this up to Cian.”

  Blair waited until they were inside. “We’re going to have to talk to them,” she told Larkin. “Set up some parameters, some boundaries.”

  “Aye, we are.” He leaned on the van as he looked toward the house. It was good, he thought, and somewhat curious, how they understood each other at times with no words. “Are we agreed? They can’t use that kind of magic, at least not often, not unless there’s no choice.”

  “Nosebleeds, queasiness, headaches.” She pulled weapons out of the cargo area. You had a team, she thought, you had to worry about its members. No choice. “I could just look at Moira and see the headache. It can’t be good for them, that kind of physical toll.”

  “I thought, at first, when I saw them on the ground, I thought…”

  “Yeah.” She let out a long, unsteady breath. “So did I.”

  “I’ve come to feel a great deal for Hoyt and Glenna, Cian, too, come to that. It’s stronger, deeper even than friendship. Maybe it’s even more than kinship. Moira…She’s always been mine, you know. I don’t know how I could live if anything happened to her. If I didn’t stop it.”

  Setting the weapons aside, Blair boosted herself up on the rear of the van. “It can’t be like that. That if the worst happened to her, to any of us, that you didn’t stop it. It’s up to each of us to do what we have to do to survive, and to do all we can to watch each other’s backs. But—”

  “You don’t understand.” His eyes were fierce when they met hers. “She’s part of me.”

  “No, I don’t understand, because I’ve never had anyone like that in my life. But I think I understand her well enough to know she’d be hurt, maybe even pissed off if she thought you felt responsible for her.”

  “Not responsible. That makes it an obligation, and it’s not. It’s love. You know what that is, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I know what that is.” Annoyed, she started to jump down, but he moved, turning his body until it blocked hers. “Do you think I felt nothing for you, nothing, when we stood with our backs to the sea and those demons coming out of the dark? Did you think I felt nothing, so would go, would save myself, because you said to?”

  “I didn’t know you were going to pull a dragon out of your hat, so—”

  She broke off, went rigid when he reached out, gripped her chin in his hand. “Did you think I felt nothing,” he said again, and his eyes were deep and gold and thoughtful. “Feel nothing now?”

  And hell, she thought. She’d boxed herself in.

  “I’m not asking about your feelings,” she began.

  “I’m telling you whether you ask or not.” He moved in a little closer, his legs planted on either side of hers, his eyes on her face. Curiously. “I can’t say I know what I feel as I don’t think I’ve felt it before. But there’s something when I look at you, now. When I see you in battle. Or when I watched you, just this morning watched you, moving like magic in the mist.”

  As she’d felt something, she admitted, when she’d ridden on his back into battle. When she’d watched him light up over music. “This is a really bad idea.”

  “I haven’t said I had an idea as yet. But I’ve feelings, so many of them I can’t seem to pick one out from the others and have a good look at it. And so…”

  Her head jerked back as his bowed to hers. Her hand slapped on to his wrist.

  “Oh, be still a moment,” he said with a half laugh. “And let me have a try at this. You can’t be afraid of something as easy as a kiss.”

  Not afraid, but certainly wary. Certainly curious. She sat as she was, the fingers of on
e hand curled loosely on the back edge of the van, the others around his wrist.

  His lips were soft on hers, just a whisper of contact. A brush, a rub, a light and teasing nip. She had a moment to think he was very good at this particular game before the mists floated over her mind.

  Strong, he thought. He’d known there’d be strength, and it was a lovely jolt to the system. But there was sweetness as well; he hadn’t been sure of that. So that kissing her was like having wine running through his blood.

  And there was need, what seemed to be a deep, simmering well of need in him. He hoped in her.

  The kiss deepened so he heard the sound of her pleasure purr in her throat. So he felt that wonderful body of hers press, press and yield to his.

  When he would have laid her back, back beside the swords, the axes, she put a hand to his chest and held him away.

  “No.”

  “I hear it plain enough, but no isn’t what I felt.”

  “Maybe not, but it’s what I’m saying.”

  He traced a finger from her shoulder to her wrist while his eyes searched her face. “Why?”

  “I’m not sure why. I’m not sure, so it’s no.”

  She turned, began to gather weapons.

  “I’m wanting to ask a question.” He smiled when she glanced over her shoulder. “Do you wear your hair so short so I’ll be enchanted by the nape of your neck. The way it slopes there, it make me just want to…lick at it.”

  “No.” Just listen to the way he uses that voice, she thought. The women of Geall must scamper after him like puppies. “I wear it short because it doesn’t give the enemy much to grab and pull if he wants to fight like a girl.” She turned back. “And it looks good on me.”

  “It does, that it does. Like a faerie queen. I always thought, if they existed, they’d have strength and courage in their faces.”

  He leaned toward her again, and she laid the blade of a sword against his chest.

  He looked down at it, up at her. This time his smile was full of fun. “That’s a good bit more than no. I was just going to kiss you again. I wouldn’t ask for anything else. Just one more kiss.”

  “You’re awful damn cute,” she said after a minute. “And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted. But because you’re awful damn cute and tempting, we’re going to leave it at one.”