“Is he stupid, or just crazy?”
“He’s neither,” Glenna snapped. “He thinks he’s killed his brother so he’ll stand here and let you beat him to death because he blames himself as much as you blame him. And you’re both wrong. Cian’s not dead. Hoyt, he’s going to be fine. He’s resting, that’s all. He’s resting.”
“Not gone?”
“You didn’t pull it off, and you won’t get a second chance.”
“Oh, for God’s sake!” Glenna whirled to King. “Nobody tried to kill anyone.”
“Just step away, Red.” King jerked a thumb. “I’m not looking to hurt you.”
“Why not? If he’s responsible, so am I. We were working together. We were doing what we came here to do, damn it. Cian came in at the wrong time, it’s as simple and as tragic as that. If Hoyt could, and would, hurt Cian like that purposely, do you think you’d be standing there? He’d cut you down with a thought. And I’d help him.”
King’s bicolored eyes narrowed, his mouth went grim. But his fists stayed at his side. “Why don’t you?”
“It’s against everything we are. You couldn’t possibly understand. But unless you’re brick stupid you should understand that whatever affection and loyalty you feel for Cian, Hoyt feels it, too. And he’s felt it since the day he was born. Now get out of here. Just go.”
King unbunched his fists, rubbed them on his pants. “Maybe I was wrong.”
“A lot of good that does.”
“I’m going to check on Cian. If I’m not satisfied, I’m going to finish this.”
Ignoring him as he strode out, Glenna turned to try to take some of Hoyt’s weight. “Here now, you need to sit down.”
“Would you get away from me?”
“No, I won’t.”
In response, Hoyt merely lowered to the floor.
Resigned, Glenna went for more cloth, poured water from a pitcher into a bowl. “It looks like I’m going to spend the evening mopping up blood.”
She knelt beside him, dampening cloth, then gently cleaning blood from his face. “I lied. You are stupid, stupid to stand there and let him pound on you. Stupid to feel guilty. And cowardly, too.”
His eyes, bloodied and swollen, shifted to hers. “Have a care.”
“Cowardly,” she repeated, her voice sharp because there were tears welling at the base of her throat. “To stay up here wallowing instead of coming down to help. Instead of coming down to see what shape your brother was in. Which isn’t that much worse than you at this point.”
“I’m not in the mood to have you jab at me with words, or flutter about me.” He waved her hands away.
“Fine. Just fine.” She tossed the cloth back in the bowl so water spewed up and lapped over onto the floor. “Tend to yourself then. I’m tired of every single one of you. Brooding, self-pitying, useless. If you ask me, your Morrigan screwed up royally picking this group.”
“Brooding, self-pitying, useless. You forgot your part of the whole. Shrew.”
She inclined her head. “That’s a weak and old-fashioned term. Today, we just go with bitch.”
“Your world, your word.”
“That’s right. While you’re up here wallowing, you might take just a minute to consider this. We did something amazing here tonight.” She gestured toward the silver crosses on the table. “Something beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. The fact that we did, that we could, should, in some way, bring this ridiculous group together. But instead we’re all whining in our separate corners. So I guess the magic, and the moment, was wasted.”
She stormed out just as Larkin jogged up the steps. “Cian’s getting up. He says we’ve wasted enough time and we’ll be training an extra hour tonight.”
“You can tell him to kiss my ass.”
Larkin blinked, then craned his head around the curve of the stairs to watch her stride down. “Sure it’s a fine one,” he said, but very quietly.
He peeked into the tower room, saw Hoyt sitting on the floor, bleeding.