Morrigan's Cross (Circle Trilogy 1)

Hoyt said nothing, simply watched her—bright hair sparkling with rain, slim white hands brushing through the green. It closed a fist over his heart, just one quick squeeze and release.

When she stood, her arms full, her eyes laughing with the wonder of it, that heart tipped in his breast and fell as if an arrow had pierced it.

Bewitched, he thought. She had bewitched him. A woman’s magic always aimed first for the heart.

“I can get quite a bit done with these.” She tossed her head to swing back her damp hair. “And have enough left to season a nice soup for dinner.”

“Best take them in then. We’ve movement to the west.” Larkin nodded toward the west edge of the woods. “Just watching for now.”

Bewitched, Hoyt thought again as he turned. He’d forgotten his watch, spellbound by her.

“I count half a dozen,” Larkin continued, his voice cool and steady. “Though there may be more hanging back. Hoping to lure us, I’m thinking, into going after them. So they’ll be more, aye, more hanging back to cut us down as we come.”

“We’ve done what we need for the morning,” Hoyt began, then thought better of it. “But no point letting them think they’ve pushed us back inside. Moira,” he said, lifting his voice enough to carry to her, “can you take one out at this distance?”

“Which one would you like?”

Amused, he lifted a shoulder. “Your choice. Let’s give them a bit of something to think about.”

He’d barely uttered the words when the arrow flew, and a second so quickly after he thought he imagined it. There were two screams, one melding into the next. And where there had been six there were four—and those four rushed back into the cover of the woods.

“Two would give them more than a bit to think about.” With a grim smile, Moira readied another arrow. “I can wing a few back into the woods, drive them back more if you like.”

“Don’t waste your wood.”

Cian stepped to the window behind her. He looked rumpled and mildly irritated. Moira automatically stepped aside. “Wouldn’t be wasted if they struck home.”

“They’ll move on for now. If they were here for more than a nuisance, they’d have charged while they had the numbers.”

He walked past her to the side door, and out.

“Past your bedtime, isn’t it?” Glenna said.

“I’d like to know who could sleep through all this. Felt like a bleeding earthquake.” He studied the garden. “Your work, I assume,” he said to Hoyt.

“No.” The bitterness from the wound inside him eked out. “My mother’s.”

“Well, next time you’ve a bit of landscaping in mind, let me know so I don’t wonder if the house is coming down on my ears. How many did you take out?”

“Five. Moira took four.” Larkin sheathed his sword. “The other was mine.”

He glanced back toward the window. “The little queen’s racking up quite the score.”

“We wanted to test the waters,” Larkin told him, “and see to your horse.”

“I’m grateful for that.”

“I’m thinking I could take him out for a run now and again, if you wouldn’t mind it.”

“I wouldn’t, and Vlad could use it.”

“Vlad?” Glenna repeated.

“Just my little in joke. If the excitement’s over, I’ll be going back to bed.”

“I need a word with you.” Hoyt waited until Cian met his eyes. “Privately.”

“And would this private word require standing about in the rain?”