Dance of the Gods Page 43

“Just the rest of it then.” He nodded as he took a step toward her. “Blair, it’s not always where you end up, is it, that’s the most important thing? It’s the journey itself, and what you find, what you do along the way. Now I’ve found you, and that’s an important thing.”

“Where we’re going matters.”

“It does. But so does where we are. I have feelings for you, feelings I’ve never had for anyone. They don’t always fit comfortably inside me, but I have a way of shifting things around until I find the fit.”

“You maybe. I’m not good at this.”

“As I am, you’ll just have to follow my lead.”

“How did you manage to turn this around on me?”

He only smiled, then kissed her cheek, her brow, her other cheek. “I just managed to get you faced toward me. That’s the right direction.”

S he had to keep her mind focused on the job, the work. If she didn’t, Blair found it tended to wander in that direction Larkin had spoken of. Then she’d catch herself daydreaming, smiling for no reason, or remembering what it was like to wake up beside a man who looked at her in a way that made her feel so much like a woman.

There was too much to do to take time indulging in fantasies.

“You have to be practical, Glenna. We all do. Now.” Blair tapped Glenna’s storage chest with her foot. “What’s essential in here?”

“All of it.”

“Glenna.”

“Blair.” Glenna folded her arms. “Are we or are we not going into battle against über evil?”

“Yes, we are. Which means we go in lean, stripped down, mobile.”

“No, which means we go in loaded. These are my weapons.” Glenna swept out a hand, a bit, Blair thought, like one of those game show models showing off fabulous prizes. “Are you leaving your weapons behind?”

“No, but I can also carry mine on my back, which you can’t do with this two-ton chest.”

“It doesn’t weigh two tons. Seventy-five pounds, tops.” Glenna’s lips trembled at Blair’s long, cool stare. “Okay, maybe eighty.”

“The books alone—”

“May make all the difference. Who’s to say? I’ll worry about the transport.”

“This better be a damn big stone circle,” Blair muttered. “You know you’re taking more than the rest of us combined.”

“What can I say? I’m a diva.”

Blair rolled her eyes, stalked to the tower window to stare out into the rain.

There was little time here left, she thought. Nearly moving day. And while she could sense—nearly see—a few of Lilith’s forces in the trees, there’d be no movement toward the house. No attack.

She’d expected something. After what Larkin had pulled off, the sheer balls of it, she’d expected a reprisal. It seemed impossible Lilith would take such an insult, such a loss, without slapping back.

“Maybe she’s too busy gearing up for Geall, too.”

“What?”

“Lilith.” Blair turned back to Glenna. “Nothing out of her for days now. And Larkin’s infiltration had to sting. Jesus, when you think about it, one man—unarmed—not only getting in, but getting prisoners out. It’s a kick in the face.”

Glenna’s eyes glinted. “I wish that was literal as well as figurative.”

“Get in line. But anyway, maybe she’s too busy preparing to move her front to bother harassing us right now.”

“Very likely.”

“I’m going to head down to the war room. We need to work out the fine details of the traps we want to set.”

“Will it make a difference?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been thinking about it, all of it. What we’ve done, what they’ve done.” Glenna rubbed a hand over the top of her chest. “But the time and the place are set. Nothing we do will change that time, that place.”

“No, Morrigan made that clear in our last little chat. But what we do, how we handle the time between now and then will set the tone for that time and place. She was saying that, too. Hey, pal, it’s okay to be nervous.”

“Good.” With brisk efficiency, Glenna set vials she’d replenished back in her healing case. “I called my parents today. I told them I’d probably be out of touch for a few weeks. Told them what an incredible time I’m having. I couldn’t tell them about any of this, of course. I haven’t even told them about Hoyt yet because it’s too hard to explain.”

She closed the case and turned. “It’s not that I’m not afraid to die. I am, of course—maybe more now than I was when this began. I have more to lose now.”

“Hoyt, and happy ever.”

“Exactly. But I’m prepared to die if that’s what it takes. Maybe more now than when this began, for those exact reasons.”

“Love sure can twist you up.”

“Oh boy,” was Glenna’s heartfelt agreement. “And I wouldn’t change a single moment since I met him. Still, it’s so hard, Blair. I have no way of telling my family how or why if I don’t make it through this. They’ll never know what happened to me. And that weighs on me.”

“Then don’t die.”

Glenna gave a half laugh. “A better idea.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make light of it.”

“No, it’s kind of bolstering, actually. But…if anything happens to me, would you take this to my family?” She held out an envelope. “I know it’s a lot to ask,” she began when Blair hesitated.

“No, but…Why me?”

“You and Cian have the best chance of coming through this. I can’t ask him to do it. They won’t understand, even with this, but at least they won’t spend the rest of their lives wondering if I’m alive or dead. I don’t want to put them through that.”

Blair studied the envelope, the artistic flare of the handwriting forming her parents’ names and address. “I tried to contact my father, twice, since this started. E-mail, because I don’t actually know where he is. He hasn’t answered me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. He must be out of reach for—”

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