Nora Roberts's Circle Trilogy

by Nora Roberts

  “She’s lucid enough,” Moira decided, and poured more of Glenna’s potion into a cup.

  “I don’t want any more of that.” Hearing the petulance in her own voice, Blair closed her eyes a moment. “Look, I don’t mean to be pissy. Or, okay, maybe I do. So what? But that gunk makes me feel foggy and out of it. Which wouldn’t be so bad if someone wasn’t waking me up every freaking ten minutes to ask me my name.”

  Not at all displeased with the rant, Moira set the cup aside. “Glenna said I should wake her if Blair refused.”

  “Oh jeez, don’t go get Nurse Rachett.”

  “I’ll be a moment.”

  Larkin eased down on the side of the bed as Moira slipped out of the room. “Your color’s come back, you know. It’s a relief to me.”

  “I bet I’m all kinds of colors right now. Blue, black, purple, that sick-looking yellow. Good thing it’s dark in here. Look, you don’t have to hang around.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I appreciate it. But…listen, can we talk about something other than me and my severely kicked ass? Tell me something. Tell me…when’s the first time you knew you could shape-shift?”

  “Oh, I’d have been about three. I wanted a puppy, you see. My father had his wolfhounds, but they were too dignified to play with the likes of me, to chase balls around and fetch sticks.”

  “A puppy.” She relaxed with the sound of his voice. “What kind of puppy.”

  “Oh, any sort would do, but my mother said she wasn’t after having another dog in the house, and that she already had me and the baby to deal with. That would be my brother, who would have been barely more than a year old. And I was unaware at the time she was already carrying my sister as well.”

  “Small wonder she wasn’t up for housebreaking a dog.”

  “She’s been in to see you, my mother. Twice tonight. My sister, my father as well.”

  “Oh.” Blair patted her face, imagined how she looked. “Terrific.”

  “So, to continue the tale, I begged for the pup relentlessly, and to no avail. She would not be moved. I had a good sulk about it up in the nursery, imagining running off with the gypsies where I could have as many pups as I pleased, and so on. And I kept thinking about the pup, and then there was this…moving inside me. And this light was spinning around. I was frightened, and called out for my mother. And barked.”

  “You turned into a puppy.”

  Her eyes were clearer now; he could see it, see the fun in them as he told the story. “Oh, what terror—and what a thrill with it. I couldn’t have a puppy, so I’d made myself one, and wasn’t that an amazing thing.”

  “I’d make some crack about being able to play with yourself, but it’s a cheap shot. Keep going.”

  “Well now, I went running out, and down the stairs where my mother caught sight of me. And thinking I’d gone and snuck a pup in the house despite her, she set off chasing me. I thought she’d hide me good when she realized what I’d done, and tried to run outside. But she cornered me. She’s always been quick. Hauled me up, she did, by the scruff of the neck. I must have whimpered and looked plain pitiful, for she sighed, deep, and scratched my ears.”

  “Softie.”

  “Aye, she’s a good, warm heart my mother. I heard her speak, plain as day. That boy, she said, what am I to do with that boy. And with you, she said to me—not knowing I was that boy. She sat down with me in her lap. When she began to pet me, I turned back.”

  “And when she regained consciousness?”

  “Oh, she’s made of sterner stuff than that, my mam. I remember her eyes popped wide—but mine must’ve been as big. I threw my arms around her neck, so glad to be a boy again. She laughed and laughed. Her granny, it seemed, had the same skill.”

  “Excellent. So it’s a family trait.”

  “Here and there, it seems. By the end of the week, her granny, who I swear was older than the moon itself, came to stay with us and teach me what I needed to know. And she brought with her a little spotted puppy I named Conn, for the warrior of a thousand battles.”

  “That’s a nice story.” Her eyelids began to droop. “What happened to Conn?”

  “He lived twelve good years, then went over the Bridge of Rainbows where he could be a puppy again, and play all day in the sun. Sleep now, a ghrá. I’ll be with you when you wake.”

  He glanced over as Glenna came quietly in, and even managed a smile. “She’s gone off to sleep again. Natural sleep. That would be good, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yes. No fever,” Glenna said after laying her palm on Blair’s forehead. “If she refused the medicine, I’d guess the pain’s lessened. And her color’s good. Moira says you won’t leave her.”

  “How can I?”

  “If it were Hoyt, I’d say the same. But why don’t you lie down with her, get a little rest yourself?”

  “I might jostle her in sleep. I don’t want to hurt her.”

  “You won’t hurt her.” Glenna moved to the windows, drawing the drapes. “I don’t want the sun to wake either of you. If you need me, come for me, or send for me. But I think she’ll rest easy enough for a few hours now.”

  She put a hand on Larkin’s shoulder, then leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Lie down beside her for a while, and do the same.”

  When he did, Blair stirred and turned, just a little, just enough so that her body curled toward his. As gently as he could, he took her hand. “She’ll pay for what she did to you. I swear to you, she’ll pay.”

  Listening to her low, steady breathing, he closed his eyes. And finally slept.

  In another room a fire blazed, and the drapes were drawn tight against the glass. Against the dawn.

  Lora’s wild wails echoed through the room. She thrashed as Lilith, once again, slathered a pale green balm over the burns and the boils that covered Lora’s face, her neck, even her breasts.

  “There, there, don’t. Don’t, my darling, my sweet, sweet girl. Don’t fight me. This will help.”

  “It burns! It burns!”

  “I know.” Tears gathered in Lilith’s throat, in her eyes, as she coated the vicious burns on Lora’s neck. “Oh, my poor baby, I know. Here now, there now. Drink a little of this.”

  “I don’t want it!” Lora turned her head away, clamping her eyes and mouth tightly shut.

  “But you must.” Though it scored her heart to cause Lora more pain, Lilith took a firm grip on the back of Lora’s neck to force some of the liquid down. “Just a bit more, just a bit. Good, that’s good, my own darling.”

  “She hurt me. Lilith, she hurt me.”

  “Hush, hush now. We’ll fix it.”

  “She scarred me.” Fresh tears spilled over the balm as Lora once again turned her face away. “I’m ugly and scarred. How can you even look at me after what she did to my face?”

  “You’re only more beautiful to me now. More precious to me.” She laid her lips, gently, gently, on Lora’s. Lilith had allowed no one else to tend Lora but herself. No one, she vowed, would touch that burned skin but herself. “You’re my sweetest girl. My bravest.”

  “I had to hide in the dirt!”

  “Ssh. It means nothing. You came back to me.” Lilith took Lora’s hand, turning it palm up to press kisses there. “I have you back.”

  The door opened, and Davey came in. He carried a crystal goblet on a silver tray, his lips pressed hard in concentration. “I didn’t spill any. Not one drop.”

  “Such a big boy.” Lilith took the goblet, ran her other hand down his hair.

  Once again, Lora turned her face away. “He shouldn’t see me like this.”

  “No. He should know what they’re capable of, these mortals. Come, Davey, come sit with our Lora. Gently now, don’t jostle her.”

  He climbed carefully onto the bed. “Does it hurt very bad?”

  Lora nodded. “Very bad.”

  “I wish it didn’t. I can bring you a toy.”

  In spite of the pain, Lora smiled. “Perhaps later.” />
  “I brought you blood. It’s still warm. I didn’t sneak any,” he added, stroking her hand as he’d seen Lilith do. “Mama said you need it all, so you can be strong and well again.”

  “That’s right. Here now.” Lilith held the goblet to Lora’s lips. “Drink it, but slowly.”

  The blood calmed her, and the drug Lilith had given her earlier helped fog the worst of the pain. “It helps.” She laid back, shut her eyes. “But I feel so weak. I thought, oh, Lilith, I thought at first I’d been blinded. It burned my eyes so. She tricked me. How could I have been so stupid?”

  “You mustn’t blame yourself. No, I won’t have it.”

  “You should be furious with me.”

  “How could I be, at such a time? We’ve centuries together, my love, the good and the bad. Can I say you were foolish? Of course, but I might have done the same. What good is the kill without the flourish?” She lowered the bodice of her robes to reveal the pentagram scar between her breast. “Don’t I carry this because I toyed too long with a mortal once?”

  “Hoyt.” Lora spat out the name. “You battled a sorcerer. There was no magic in that bitch who scarred me.”

  “When Mama kills the sorcerer, I can lap up his blood like a puppy does milk.”

  Lilith laughed, ruffled Davey’s hair. “That’s my boy. And don’t be sure that demon hunter is without magic.” She reached for Davey, setting him on her lap. “I don’t believe she could have hurt you so without it.”

  “She was hurt, at least. Perhaps mortally.”

  “There, you see, always a bright side.” Lilith kissed Davey. “It’s Midir who must do better. Didn’t night slip through his fingers? Didn’t the white magic defeat his?”

  Lilith had to take a moment to calm herself over the outrage of her wizard’s incompetence. “I’d be rid of him if we had another nearly as powerful. But I promise you this, I swear this to you. They will pay. You’ll bathe in her blood come Samhain, my darling girl. We’ll all drink, long and deep. And when I rule, you’ll be by my side.”

  Comforted, Lora reached out. “Will you stay awhile longer? Will you stay while I sleep?”

  “Of course. We’re family, after all.”

  Blair woke in stages. Her mind stirred first, circling slowly around where she was, what had happened. Her head began to ache in a low, steady drumming, then her eyes throbbed with it. She became aware of other pain—shoulder, ribs, belly, legs. As she lay quiet, taking stock, she realized there wasn’t a spot on her that didn’t hurt.

  But it was manageable rather than the breath stealing pain that had flattened her. The aftertaste of the potion Glenna had poured down her coated her throat. Not horribly unpleasant, she decided. Just sort of smoky and thick, so that she wished for a gallon or two of water to clear it away.

  Cautiously, she let her eyes open. Candlelight, firelight. So it was still shy of dawn, she decided. Good. She felt reasonably good, all in all.

  In fact, she felt good enough to be hungry, which had to be a positive sign. She worked at sitting up just as she spotted Larkin crossing back toward the bed from the far window.

  “Hey, go get some sleep.”

  He stopped, just stared for a moment. “You’re awake.”

  “Yeah, and before you ask, my name’s Blair Murphy, I’m in Geall, and I got my ass whooped by a bunch of vampires. Do you think I could get something to eat?”

  “You’re hungry.” He all but sang the words as he rushed to the bed.

  “Yeah. Maybe just a little midnight snack—or whatever time it is.”

  “You’re having pain.”

  “The grandmother of all headaches,” she admitted. “And some other twinges. Mostly, I feel sort of groggy and dopey. Also,” she added with a quick wince, “I have an amazing need to pee. So, you know, shoo for a minute.”

  Instead, he picked her up, carried her to the chamber pot behind the painted screen.

  “I can’t do this with you in here. I just can’t. Go outside the room and count to thirty.” She squirmed as her bladder strained. “Make that forty. Come on, give a girl a private moment.”

  He rolled his eyes, but did as she asked. In exactly forty seconds he was back in the room where she was taking a few hesitant steps. He was at her side, taking her arm in an instant.

  “Glenna said you might be dizzy.”

  “Little bit. Little dizzy, little wobbly, and it hurts pretty much everywhere. But it could be a whole lot worse, in that I could be dead or craving a nice slug of blood at this moment. I want to take a look.”

  With his help, she limped to the mirror. Her left cheek was scraped from nose to temple, and she was sporting two black eyes. Glenna had fashioned a kind of butterfly bandage to close the gash on her forehead. She turned, noted that while her shoulder was a mass of bruises, they were already going the sickly yellow-green of healing.

  “Yeah, could’ve been worse.” She ran a hand down her own ribs. “Pretty tender yet, but nothing got busted. There’s a plus.”

  “I’ve never been so frightened in all my life.”

  “Me, either.” She met his eyes in the glass. “I don’t know if I thanked you or dreamed I did on one of my trips to La-La Land, but you saved me. I’ll never forget watching you whip through those three vamps like they were nothing.”

  “If I’d been sooner—”

  “Isn’t this a lot about destiny, this whole business? If you were meant to be there sooner, you would’ve been. You were there in time, and that’s what counts.”

  “Blair.” He lowered his head to her good shoulder. He spoke in a quiet murmur, and in Gaelic.

  “What was all that?”

  “For later.” He straightened. “But for now, I’ll get you some food.”

  “I could use it. Feel like I haven’t eaten in days. I’m not getting back in bed. I’ll sit.”

  He helped her to the chair by the fire, then brought over a blanket for her legs. “Do you want the drapes open?”

  “Yeah, sure. Listen, after you get someone to throw some food together, you should go, catch some sleep for the rest of the night—oh!”

  She blinked, threw up a hand to block the glare of the sun through the glass.

  “I slept a bit,” he told her with a quick grin.

  “Yeah, well, apparently so did I. What time is it?”

  “I’d say well past midday.”

  “Mid—” She blew out a breath. “Guess my advanced healing powers have been getting a hell of a workout.”

  “I’ll go see about some food if you promise to stay where I’ve put you.”

  Gingerly, she rubbed her aching knee. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Obviously, he didn’t take her at her word as Glenna came in moments later.

  “You look better.”

  “Then I must’ve looked like the wrath of God.”

  “You did.” Glenna set her case on a table, opened it.

  And Blair gave it a long, meaningful frown. “I really don’t need any more of that magic tree bark.”

  “We’ll switch to something else. Double vision?”

  “Down to the regular kind. Head aches like a mother.”

  “I can help with that.” Glenna came over, laid her fingers on Blair’s temples. “How’s the shoulder?”

  “Achy, worse than the ribs, but they’re not too bad. Must’ve cracked my knee pretty good, too. It’s a little wobbly.”

  “Considering it was about twice its normal size when Larkin got you here, a little wobbly’s good. You know, this is the first time he’s left this room since he brought you back.”

  “But he said he slept some.”

  “I convinced him to lie down next to you for a while.”

  “He blames himself. It’s stupid.”

  “It’s stupid, I agree. But that’s only part of it. He’s watched over you all night because he’s desperately in love with you. How’s the head now?”

  “The what? Oh…Better,” she realized. “A lot better. Thanks. Oh God
, what am I going to do?”

  “You’ll figure it out. They’ll be sending up some tea—one of my infusions. We’ll add a little of this and that to it. You’ll drink it all. Let’s see what I can do about that shoulder.”

  “If I stayed here in Geall, I’d be turning my back on what I was born for. On what brought me to him in the first place. Glenna, I can’t. Whatever I feel, whatever I want, I can’t not be what I am.”

  “Duty and love. They can make their own nasty little wars, can’t they? Relax now. Try some yoga breathing. You’re a strong woman, Blair. Mind, body, heart. A lot of people don’t understand how difficult it can be to be a strong woman. If I were taking bets, I’d say Larkin’s a man who does.”

  Later, when she’d eaten and felt steadier, she convinced Larkin she needed to walk. She sensed he was waiting to scoop her up at the first sign of weakness. She did feel weak, but in heart rather than body. She had to tell him, he deserved to be told, that she couldn’t make promises to him. When what they’d been charged to do had been done, she would have to leave him.

  She knew what it was to be rejected, and wished with everything inside her things could be different. That she could be.

  They walked to the courtyard with the fountain she could see from her window, where the sun was strong and the air cool with the first brush of autumn.

  “Only a month left,” he said, and sat with her on a bench of deep blue marble.

  “We’ll be ready.”

  “Aye, we will. In a few days, Moira will take her sword.”

  “What if it’s not her? What if it’s you?”

  “It isn’t.” He lifted his shoulder. “I’ve searched myself on that, and I’d know if it was. I’d have always known, as in some part of her, Moira knows. And thank God.”

  “But your family. This place. You’re tied to it, by birth. By blood.”

  “True enough.” He took her hand, idly toying with her fingers. “It’s the place of my birth, and I’ll always miss it.”

  “You’ll…what? Miss it? Why? We’re going to win. Just because I got slapped around doesn’t mean they’re going to beat us.”