Chapter 4
She was going to find him. If a man was going to drag her into his dreams, push her into out-of-body experiences and generally haunt her thoughts, she was going to track him down and find out why.
For days now she had felt as if she stood on the edge of some high, shaky cliff. On one side there was something bright and beautiful, and on the other a cold and terrifying void. But the cliff itself, while a little unstable, was the known.
Whatever was brewing inside her, he was part of it, that she knew. Not of this time, not of this place. Guys just didn’t ride around on horses wearing cloaks and tunics in twenty-first-century New York as a rule.
But he was real; he was flesh and blood and as real as she was. She’d had that blood on her hands, hadn’t she? She’d cooled that flesh and watched him sleep off the fever. His face, she thought, had been so familiar. Like something she remembered, or had caught a glimpse of in dreams.
Handsome, even in pain, she mused as she sketched it. Lean and angular, aristocratic. Long narrow nose, strong, sculpted mouth. Good, slashing cheekbones.
His image came true on paper as she worked, first in broad strokes, then in careful detail. Deep-set eyes, she remembered, vividly blue and intense with an almost dramatic arch of brows over them. And the contrast of that black hair, those black brows and wild blue eyes against his skin just added more drama.
Yes, she thought, she could see him, she could sketch him, but until she found him, she wouldn’t know whether she should jump off the edge of that cliff or scramble back from it.
Glenna Ward was a woman who liked to know.
So, she knew his face, the shape and feel of his body, even the sound of his voice. She knew, without question, he had power. And she believed he had answers.
Whatever was coming, and every portent warned her it was major, he was tied to it. She had a part to play, had known almost since her first breath that she had a part to play. She had a feeling that she was about to take on the role of her lifetime. And the wounded hunk with the clouds of magic and trouble all around him was slated to costar.
He’d spoken Gaelic, Irish Gaelic. She knew some of it, used the language occasionally in spells, and could even read some in a very rudimentary fashion.
But oddly enough, she’d not only understood everything he’d said in the dream—experience, vision, whatever—she’d been able to speak it herself, like a native.
So somewhere in the past—the good, long past, she determined. And possibly somewhere in Ireland.
She’d done scrying spells and locator spells, using the bloodied bandage she’d brought back with her from that strange and intense visit to... wherever she’d been. His blood and her own talent would lead her to him.
She’d expected it to be a great deal of work and effort. Doubled by whatever work and effort would be involved in transporting herself—or at least her essence—to his time and place.
She was prepared to do just that, or at least try. She sat within her circle, the candles lit, the herbs floating on the water in her bowl. Once more she searched for him, focusing on the sketch of his face and holding the cloth she’d brought back with her.
“I seek the man who bears this face, my quest to find his time, his place. I hold his blood within my hand, and with its power I demand. Search and find and show to me. As I will, so mote it be.”
In her mind she saw him, brow furrowed as he buried himself in books. Focusing, she drew back, saw the room. Apartment? Dim light, just slanting over his face, his hands.
“Where are you?” she asked softly. “Show me.”
And she saw the building, the street.
The thrill of success mixed with absolute bafflement.
The last thing she’d expected was to learn he was in New York, some sixty blocks away, and in the now.
The fates, Glenna decided, were in an all-fired hurry to get things started. Who was she to question them?
She closed the circle, put away her tools and tucked the sketch in her desk drawer. Then she dressed, puzzling over her choices for a bit. What exactly did a woman wear when she went to meet her destiny? Something flashy, subdued, businesslike? Something exotic?
In the end she settled on a little black dress she felt could handle anything.
She traveled uptown by subway, letting her mind clear. There was a drumming in her heart, an anticipation that had been building in her over the past weeks. This, she thought, was the next step to whatever was waiting.
And whatever it was, whatever was coming, whatever would happen next, she wanted to be open to it.
Then she’d make her decisions.
The train was crowded, so she stood, holding the overhead hook and swaying slightly with the movement of the car. She liked the rhythm of the city, its rapid pace, its eclectic musics. All the tones and hues of it.
She’d grown up in New York, but not in the city. The small town upstate had always seemed too limited to her, too closed-in. She’d wanted more, always. More color, more sound, more people. She’d spent the last four of her twenty-six years in the city.
And all of her life exploring her craft.
Something in her blood was humming now, as if it knew—some part of her knew—she’d been preparing all of her life for these next hours.
At the next station, people filed on, people filed off. She let the sound of them flow over her as she brought the image of the man she sought back into her head.
Not the face of a martyr, she thought. There’d been too much power on him for that. And too much annoyance in him. She’d found it, she could admit, a very interesting mix.
The power of the circle he’d cast had been strong, and so had been whatever hunted him. They chased her dreams, too, those black wolves that were neither animal nor human, but something horribly of both.
Idly, she fingered the pendant she wore around her neck. Well, she was strong, too. She knew how to protect herself.
“She will feed on you.”
The voice was a hiss rippling over the back of her neck, icing her skin. Then what spoke moved, seemed to glide and float in a circle around her, and the cold from it had the breath that trembled from between her lips frosting the air.
The other passengers continued to sit or stand, read or chat. Undisturbed. Unaware of the thing that slithered around their bodies like a snake.
Its eyes were red, its eye teeth long and sharp. Blood stained them, dripped obscenely from its mouth. Inside her chest, Glenna’s heart tightened like a fist and began to beat, beat, beat against her ribs.
It had human form, and worse, somehow worse, wore a business suit. Blue pinstripes, she noted dully, crisp white shirt and paisley tie.
“We are forever.” It swiped a bloody hand over the cheek of a woman who sat reading a paperback novel. Even while red stained her cheek, the woman turned the page and continued to read.
“We will herd you like cattle, ride you like horses, trap you like rats. Your powers are puny and pathetic, and when we’re done with you, we’ll dance on your bones.”
“Then why are you afraid?”
It peeled back its lips in a snarl, and it leaped.
Glenna choked on a scream, stumbled back.
As the train streaked through a tunnel, the thing vanished.
“Watch it, lady.” She got an impatient elbow and mutter from the man she’d fallen into.
“Sorry.” She gripped the hook again with a hand gone slick with sweat.
She could still smell the blood as she rode the last blocks uptown.
For the first time in her life, Glenna actively feared the dark, the streets, the people who passed by. She had to struggle to not run when the train stopped. Had to suppress the urge to shove and push her way off and race across the platform to the steps leading up.
She walked quickly, and even with the city noises she heard the rapid clip of her heels on the sidewalk and the fearful wheeze of her own breath.
There was a line snaking out from the entrance of the club called Eternity. Couples and singles crammed together hoping to get the signal to go inside. Rather than wait, she walked up to the man on the door. She flashed a smile, did a quick charm.
He passed her through without checking his list or her ID.
Inside was music, blue light and the throb of excitement. For once the press of humanity, the pulse and beat didn’t excite her.
Too many faces, she thought. Too many heartbeats. She wanted only one, and the prospect of finding him among so many suddenly seemed impossible. Every bump and jostle as she worked her way into the club jolted through her. And her own fear shamed her.
She wasn’t defenseless; she wasn’t weak. But she felt both. The thing on the train had been every nightmare. And that nightmare had been sent to her.
For her.
It had known her fear, she thought now. And it had played with it, taunted her until her knees were water and the screams inside her had slashed her mind like razors.
She’d been too shocked, too frightened to reach for the only weapon she held. Magic.
Now anger began to eke through the terror.
She’d told herself she was a seeker, a woman who took risks, valued knowledge. A woman who possessed defenses and skills most couldn’t imagine. Yet here she was quivering at the first real whiff of danger. She stiffened her spine, evened her breathing, then headed straight for the huge circular bar.
Halfway across the silver span of the floor she saw him.
The flood of relief came first, then the pride that she’d succeeded in this initial task so quickly. A trickle of interest worked its way through as she veered in his direction.
The guy cleaned up very well.
His hair was carelessly styled rather than ragged, a shining black and shorter than it had been during their first meeting. Then again, he’d been wounded, troubled and in a hell of a fix. He wore black, and it suited him. Just as the watchful, slightly irritable look in those brilliant eyes suited him.
With a great deal of her confidence restored, she smiled and stepped into his path.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
Cian paused. He was accustomed to women approaching him. Not that he couldn’t get some enjoyment from it, particularly when the woman was exceptional as this one was. There was a spark in her eyes, jewel green, and a flirtatious hint of amusement. Her lips were full, sensuous and curved; her voice low and husky.
Her body was a good one, and poured into a little black dress that showed a great deal of milky skin and strong muscle tone. He might have amused himself with her for a few moments, but for the pendant she wore.
Witches, and worse, those who played at witchcraft, could be troublesome.
“I enjoy being looked for by beautiful women when I have time to be found.” He would have left it at that, moved on, but she touched his arm.
He felt something. And apparently so did she, for her eyes narrowed, and the smile faded.
“You’re not him. You only look like him.” Her hand tightened on his arm, and he sensed power seeking. “But that’s not completely true either. Damn it.” She dropped her hand, shook back her hair. “I should’ve known it wouldn’t be so easy.”
This time he took her arm. “Let’s get you a table.” In a dark, quiet corner, Cian thought. Until he knew who or what she was.
“I need information. I need to find someone.”
“You need a drink,” Cian said pleasantly, and steered her quickly through the crowd.
“Look, I can get my own drink if I want one.” Glenna considered causing a scene, but decided it would probably get her tossed out. She considered a push of power, but knew from experience that depending on magic for every irritation led to trouble.
She glanced around, gauging the situation. The place was stacked with people on every level. The music was a throb, heavy on the bass with the female singer purring out the lyrics in a sensual and feline voice.
Very public, very active, Glenna decided with a lot of chrome and blue lighting slicking class over sex. What could he possibly do to her under the circumstances?
“I’m looking for someone.” Conversation, she told herself. Keep it conversational and friendly. “I thought you were him. The light in here isn’t the best, but you look enough alike to be brothers. It’s very important I find him.”
“What’s his name? Maybe I can help you.”
“I don’t know his name.” And the fact that she didn’t made her feel foolish. “And okay, I know how that sounds. But I was told he was here. I think he’s in trouble. If you’d just—” She started to shove at his hand, found it hard as stone.
What could he do to her in these circumstances? she thought again. Almost any damn thing. With the first fresh flicker of panic tickling her throat, she closed her eyes and reached for power.
His hand flinched on her arm, then his grip tightened. “So, you’re a real one,” he murmured, and turned those eyes—as steely as his grip—on her. “I think we’ll take this upstairs.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Something akin to the fear she’d felt on the subway worked its way into her. “That was low wattage. Believe me, you don’t want me to up the amps.”
“Believe me.” And his voice was silky. “You don’t want to piss me off.”
He pulled her behind the curve of open, spiral stairs. She planted her feet, prepared to defend herself by any and all means at her disposal. She brought the four-inch spike of her heel down on his instep, slammed a back-fist into his jaw. Rather than wasting her breath on a scream, she began an incantation.
Her breath whooshed out when he lifted her off her feet as if she weighed nothing. Her only satisfaction came from the fact that in thirty seconds, when she finished the spell, he’d be flat on his ass.
That didn’t stop her from fighting. She reared back, elbows and feet, and sucked in a breath to add a scream after all.
And the doors on what she saw was a private elevator whisked open.
There he was, flesh and blood. And so like the man currently heaving her over his shoulder she decided she could hate him, too.
“Put me down, you son of a bitch, or I’ll turn this place into a moon crater.”
When the doors of the transportation box opened, Hoyt was assaulted with noise and smells and lights. They all slammed into his system, stunning his senses. He saw through dazzled eyes, his brother with his arms full of struggling woman.
His woman, he realized with yet another jolt. The witch from his dream was half-naked and using language he’d rarely heard even in the seediest public house.
“Is this how you pay someone back for helping you?” She shoved at the curtain of her hair and aimed those sharp green eyes at him. She shifted them, scanned them up and down King, snarled.
“Come on then,” she demanded. “I can take all three of you.”
As she was currently over Cian’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes, Hoyt wasn’t certain how she intended to see the threat through. But witches were tricky.
“You’re real then,” he stated softly. “Did you follow me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, asshole.”
Cian shifted her, effortlessly. “Yours?” he said to Hoyt.
“I couldn’t say.”
“Deal with it.” Cian dropped Glenna back on her feet, caught the fist aimed at his face just before it connected. “Do your business,” he told her. “Quietly. Then take off. Keep a lid on the magic. Both of you. King.”
He walked off. After a grin and a shrug, King trailed after him.
Glenna smoothed down her dress, shook back her hair. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“My ribs still pain me a little, but I’m largely healed. Thank you for your help.”
She stared at him, then huffed out a breath. “Here’s how this is going to work. We’re going to sit down, you’re going to buy me a drink. I need one.”
“I... I have no coin in these pants.”
“Typical. I’ll buy.” She hooked an arm through his to make sure she didn’t lose him again, then began to wind through the crowd.
“Did my brother hurt you?”
“What?”
He had to shout. How could anyone have a conversation in such noise? There were too many people in this place. Was it some sort of festival?
There were women writhing in what must have been some sort of ritual dance, and wearing even less than the witch. Others sat at silver tables and watched or ignored, drank from clear tankards and cups.
The music, he thought, came from everywhere at once.
“I asked if my brother hurt you.”
“Brother? That fits. Bruised my pride for the most part.”
She chose the stairs, moving up where the noise wasn’t quite so horrific. Still clinging to his arm, she looked right, left, then moved toward a low seat with a candle flickering on the table. Five people were jammed around it, and all seemed to be talking at once.
She smiled at them, and he felt her power hum. “Hi. You really need to get home now, don’t you?”
They got up, still chattering, and left the table littered with those clear drinking vessels, some nearly full.
“Sorry to cut their evening short, but I think this takes precedence. Sit down, will you?” She dropped down, stretched out long, bare legs. “God, what a night.” She waved a hand in the air, fingered her pendant with the other as she studied his face. “You look better than you did. Are you healed?”
“Well enough. What place are you from?”
“Right to business.” She glanced over at the waitress who came to their table to clear it. “I’ll have a Grey Goose martini, straight up, two olives. Dry as dust.” She cocked a brow at Hoyt. When he said nothing, she held up two fingers.
She tucked her hair behind one ear as she leaned toward him. There were silver coils dangling from her ear in a Celtic knot pattern.
“I dreamed of you before that night. Twice before I think,” she began. “I try to pay attention to my dreams, but I could never hold on to these, until the last one. I think in the first, you were in a graveyard, and you were grieving. My heart broke for you, I remember feeling that. Odd, I remember more clearly now. The next time I dreamed of you, I saw you on a cliff, over the sea. I saw a woman with you who wasn’t a woman. Even in the dream I was afraid of her. So were you.”
She sat back, shuddering once. “Oh yes, I remember that now. I remember I was terrified, and there was a storm. And you... you struck out at her. I pushed—I remember I pushed what I had toward you, to try to help. I knew she was... she was wrong. Horribly wrong. There was lightning and screams—” She wished actively for her drink. “I woke up, and for an instant, the fear woke with me. Then it all faded.”
When he still said nothing, she drew in a breath. “Okay, we’ll stick with me for a while. I used my scrying mirror, I used my crystal, but I couldn’t see clearly. Only in sleep. You brought me to that place in the woods, in the circle. Or something did. Why?”
“It was not my work.”
“It wasn’t mine.” She tapped nails painted red as her lips on the table. “You have a name, handsome?”
“I’m Hoyt Mac Cionaoith.”
Her smile turned her face into something that all but stopped his heart. “Not from around here, are you?”
“No.”
“Ireland, I can hear that. And in the dream we spoke Gaelic, which I don’t—not really. But I think it’s more than where. It’s when, too, isn’t it? Don’t worry about shocking me. I’m immune tonight.”
He waged an internal debate. She’d been shown to him, and she had come within the circle. Nothing that meant harm to him should have been able to come within his protective ring. While he had been told to seek a witch, she was nothing, nothing that he’d expected.
Yet she’d worked to heal him, and had stayed with him while the wolves had stalked his ring. She’d come to him now for answers, and perhaps for help.
“I came through the Dance of the Gods, nearly a thousand years in time.”
“Okay.” She whistled out a breath. “Maybe not completely immune. That’s a lot to take on faith, but with everything that’s been going on, I’m willing to take the leap.” She lifted the glass the waitress set down, drank immediately. “Especially with this to cushion the fall. Run a tab, will you?” Glenna asked and took a credit card out of her purse.
“Something’s coming,” she said when they were alone again. “Something bad. Big, fat evil.”
“You don’t know.”
“I can’t see it all. But I feel it, and I know I’m connected with you on this. Not thrilled about that at this point.” She drank some more. “Not after what I saw on the subway.”
“I don’t understand you.”
“Something very nasty in a designer suit,” she explained. “It said she would feed on me. She—the woman on the cliff, I think. I’m going out on a limb here, a really shaky one. Are we dealing with vampires?”
“What is the subway?”
Glenna pressed her hands to her eyes. “Okay, we’ll spend some time later bringing you up to date on current events, modes of mass transportation and so on, but right now, I need to know what I’m facing. What’s expected of me.”
“I don’t know your name.”
“Sorry. Glenna. Glenna Ward.” She held a hand out to him. After a brief hesitation, he took it. “Nice to meet you. Now, what the hell is going on?”
He began, and she continued to drink. Then she held up a hand, swallowed. “Excuse me. Are you saying your brother—the guy who manhandled me, is a vampire?”
“He doesn’t feed on humans.”
“Oh good. Great. Points for him. He died nine hundred and seventy-odd years ago, and you’ve come here and now from there and then to find him.”
“I am charged by the gods to gather an army to fight and destroy the army the vampyre Lilith is making.”
“Oh God. I’m going to need another drink.”
He started to offer her his, but she waved him away and signaled the waitress. “No, go ahead. You’re going to need it, too, I imagine.”
He took a testing sip, blinked rapidly. “What is this brew?”
“Vodka martini. You should like vodka,” she said absently. “Seems to me they make it from potatoes.”
She ordered another drink and some bar food to counteract the alcohol. Calmer now, she listened to the whole of it without interrupting.
“And I’m the witch.”
There wasn’t just beauty here, he realized. There wasn’t just power. There was a seeking and a strength. Some he would seek, he remembered the goddess saying. And some would seek him.
So she had.
“I have to believe you are. You, my brother and I will find the others and begin.”
“Begin what? Boot camp? Do I look like a soldier to you?”
“You don’t, no.”
She propped a chin on her fist. “I like being a witch, and I respect the gift. I know there’s a reason this runs in my blood. A purpose. I didn’t expect it to be this. But it is.” She looked at him then, fully. “I know, the first time I dreamed of you that it was the next step in that purpose. I’m terrified. I’m so seriously terrified.”
“I left my family to come here, to do this thing. I left them with only the silver crosses and the word of the goddess that they would be protected. You don’t know fear.”
“All right.” She reached out, laid a hand on his in a kind of comfort he sensed was innate in her. “All right,” she repeated. “You’ve got a lot at stake. But I’ve got a family, too. They’re upstate. I need to make sure they’re protected. I need to make sure I live to do what I’m meant to do. She knows where I am. She sent that thing to scare me off. I’m guessing she’s a lot more prepared than we are.”
“Then prepared is what we’ll get. I have to see what you’re capable of.”
“You want me to audition? Listen, Hoyt, your army so far consists of three people. You don’t want to insult me.”
“We have four with the king.”
“What king?”
“The black giant. And I don’t like working with witches.”
“Really?” She drew out the word as she leaned toward him. “They burned your kind just as hot as mine. We’re kissing cousins, Merlin. And you need me.”
“It may be that I do. The goddess didn’t say I had to like it, did she? I have to know your strengths and your weaknesses.”
“Fair enough,” she said with a nod. “And I have to know yours. I already know you couldn’t heal a lame horse.”
“That’s false.” And this time insult edged his voice. “It happens I was wounded, and unable to—”
“Mend a couple of broken ribs and a gash on your own palm. So, you won’t be in charge of injuries if and when we manage to build this army.”
“It’s welcome you are to the task,” he snapped. “And building the army is what we’ll do. It’s my destiny.”
“Let’s hope it’s my destiny to get home in one piece.” She signed the check, picked up her purse.
“Where are you going?”
“Home. I have a lot to do.”
“That’s not the way. We must stay together now. She knows you, Glenna Ward. She knows all of us. It’s safer we are, and stronger together.”
“That may be, but I need things from my home. I have a lot to do.”
“They’re night creatures. You’ll wait until sunrise.”
“Orders already?” She tried for flip, but the image of what had circled her in the subway came to her, very clearly.
Now he gripped her hand, held her in her seat and felt the clash of their emotions in the heat that vibrated between their palms. “Is this a game to you then?”
“No. I’m scared. A few days ago I was just living my life. My terms. Now I’m being hunted, and I’m supposed to fight some apocalyptic battle. I want to go home. I need my own things. I need to think.”
“It’s fear that makes you vulnerable and foolish. Your things will be there in the morning just as they are now.”
He was right, of course. Added to it, she wasn’t sure she had the bravado or the courage to step back outside into the night. “And just where am I supposed to stay until sunrise?”
“My brother has an apartment upstairs.”
“Your brother. The vampire.” She flopped back against her seat. “Isn’t that cozy?”
“He won’t harm you. You have my word on it.”
“I’d rather have his, if you don’t mind. And if he tries... ” She held her palm up on the table, focused on it. A small ball of flame kindled just above her hand. “If the books and movies have it right, his type doesn’t do well with fire. If he tries to hurt me, I’ll torch him, and your army’s down by one.”
Hoyt merely laid his hand over hers, and the flame became a ball of ice. “Don’t pit your skills against mine, or threaten to harm my family.”
“Nice trick.” She dumped the ice in her empty glass. “Let’s put it this way. I have a right to protect myself, from anyone or anything who tries to hurt me. Agreed?”
“Agreed. It will not be Cian.” Now he rose, offered his hand. “I will pledge this to you, here and now. I will protect you, even from him, if he means you harm.”
“Well then.” She put her hand in his, got to her feet. She felt it, knew he did by the way his pupils dilated. The magic, yes, but more. “I guess we’ve got our first deal.”
As they went down, turned toward the elevator, Cian cut across their path. “Hold it. Where do you think you’re taking her?”
“I’m going with him,” Glenna corrected, “not being taken.”
“It’s not safe for her to go out. Not until daylight. Lilith already sent a scout after her.”
“Check the magic at the door,” Cian told Glenna. “She can have the spare room tonight. Which means you get the couch, unless she wants to share.”
“He can have the couch.”
“Why do you insult her?” Temper sizzled in the words. “She’s been sent; she’s come here at risk.”
“I don’t know her,” Cian said simply. “And from now on, I expect you to check with me before you invite anyone into my home.” He punched in the code for the elevator. “Once you’re up, you stay up. I’m locking the elevator behind you.”
“What if there’s a fire?” Glenna said sweetly, and Cian merely smiled.
“Then I guess you’d better open a window, and fly.”
Glenna stepped into the elevator when the doors opened, then laid a hand on Hoyt’s arm. Before the doors shut, she flashed Cian that smile again. “Better remember who you’re dealing with,” she told him. “We may do just that.”
She sniffed when the doors shut. “I don’t think I like your brother.”
“I’m not very pleased with him myself at the moment.”
“Anyway. Can you fly?”
“No.” He glanced down at her. “Can you?”
“Not so far.”