“And you can’t take that with you and survive it?”
“I don’t know, that’s the plain truth. But I know that one feeling leads to another until you drown in them. I’m half drowned now with what’s in me for Moira.”
He calmed himself, sat again. “She wore the cross you gave her, Nola did. She said she wore it always, just as you told her. I thought you should know. And I thought you should know she told me Lilith had come back, and tried to lure her into an invitation.”
As Cian’s had done, Hoyt’s hand fisted. “That hell-bitch went for our Nola?”
“She did, and got a boot up the ass for the trouble—metaphorically.” He told Hoyt what Nola had said, watched Hoyt’s grim face soften a little with pride and satisfaction. “Then she flashed that cross of yours and sent her packing. According to Nola she never came back again, until we did.”
“Well now, well. Isn’t that interesting. The cross didn’t just shield the wearer, it frightened Lilith enough to send her haring off. That, and the prediction we’d end her.”
“Which may be why she’s so determined to end us.”
“Aye. Nola’s threat could have added weight to that. Imagine how it must have been for Lilith, being frightened off by a child.”
“She wants her own back, no doubt of it. She wants to win this, of course. To set herself up as a kind of god, but under that, it’s us. The six of us and the connection between us. She wants us destroyed.”
“Hasn’t had much luck with that, has she?”
“And what do you think of that? The gods depose, don’t they? We’ve all of us had our close calls, and bled for it. But we’re all of us, Lilith included, being driven toward one time and place. The fact of the matter is, I don’t care for being led by the nose by gods any more than demons.”
Hoyt lifted his brows. “What choice is there?”
“They all talk of choice, but which of us would turn away from this now? It’s not just humans who have pride, after all. So, the time clicks away.” He rose. “And we’ll see what we see on that reckoning day. The sun’s well down. I’m going out for air.”
He walked to the door, paused to glance back. “She couldn’t tell me if you survived it.”
Hoyt lifted a shoulder, finished off his whiskey. Then he smiled. “‘Danny Boy,’ is it?”
Cian went to see to his horse. Then, though he knew it was risky, saddled Vlad and rode out through the gates. He needed the speed, and the night. Maybe he needed the risk as well.
The moon was past half full now. When that circle was complete, blood—human and demon—would soak the ground.
He hadn’t fought in other wars, hadn’t seen the point of them. Wars for land, for riches and resources. Wars waged in the name of faith. But this one had come to be his.
No, it wasn’t only humans who had pride, or even honor. Or love. So for all of that, this was his. If his luck was in, he’d ride one day again in Ireland—or wherever he chose. And he’d think of Geall with its lovely hills and thick forests. He’d think of the green and the tumbling water, the standing stones, and the fanciful castle on the rise near the river.
He’d think of its queen. Moira, with the long gray eyes and the quiet smile that masked a clever, flexible brain and a deep, rich heart. Who would have believed that after all these lifetimes he would be seduced, bewitched, drowned in such a woman?
He took Vlad leaping over stone walls, galloping over fields where the air was sweet and cool with the night. The moonlight rained down on the stones of her castle, and the windows glowed with candles and lamps. She’d kept her word, he thought, and had hoisted that third flag, so there was claddaugh, dragon, and now the bright gold sun.
He wished, with all that was in him, that she would give Geall, and all the worlds, the sun after the blood spilled.
Maybe he couldn’t take all these feelings, these needs and wants with him and survive. But he wanted to take this. When he went back to the dark, he wanted to take this much of her, and have that single glimmer of light through all his nights.
He rode back, and found her waiting, with her bow in her hands and the sword of Geall strapped to her side.
“I saw you ride out.”
He dismounted. “Covering my back, were you?”
“We’d agreed none of us would go out alone, particularly after dark.”
“I needed it,” was all he said, and led the stallion to the stables.
“So it seemed, from the way you were riding. I didn’t see any hounds of hell, but it appeared you did. Would you trust one of the stable boys to cool him and settle him for the night? It helps them to have the work, as much as it might help you to have a wild ride.”
“There’s a scolding under that accommodating tone, Majesty. You do it very well.”