Morrigan's Cross (Circle Trilogy 1)

She dried her hands, flung the cloth down.

There was a thump outside the back door, as if something heavy had fallen. Instinctively she stepped back, reached for the sword braced against the counter, and one of the stakes lying on it.

“They can’t get in,” she whispered, and even the whisper shook. “If they want to spy on me while I’m cleaning up the kitchen, so what?”

But she wished she and Hoyt had had better luck devising a spell to create a protected area around the house.

Still, she couldn’t let it frighten her, wouldn’t let it. She certainly wasn’t going to open the door again to have a chat with something that wanted to rip her throat out.

But there came a kind of scratching, low on the door. And a moan. And the hand gripping the sword went damp with sweat.

“Help me. Please.”

The voice was weak, barely audible through the wood. But she thought…

“Let me in. Glenna? Glenna? In the name of God, let me in before they come.”

“King?” The sword clattered on the floor as she leaped toward the door. Still, she held the stake in a firm grip.

Fool me once, she thought, and kept well out of reach as she opened the door.

He lay on the stones just outside, his clothes bloody and torn. More blood had dried on the side of his face, and his breathing was a thin wheeze.

Alive, was all she could think.

She started to crouch down, pull him inside, but Cian was beside her. He shoved her aside, lowered down himself. Laid a hand on King’s battered cheek.

“We need to get him in. Hurry, Cian! I’ve got things that can help.”

“They’re close. Tracking me.” He groped blindly for Cian’s hand. “I didn’t think I’d make it.”

“You have. Come inside now.” He

gripped King under the arms, dragged him into the kitchen. “How did you get away?”

“Don’t know.” King sprawled on the floor, eyes closed. “Missed the rocks. Thought I’d drown, but…I got out, got out of the water. Hurt pretty bad. Passed out, don’t know how long. Walked, walked all day. Hid at night. They come at night.”

“Let me see what I can do for him,” Glenna began.

“Close the door,” Cian told her.

“Did everybody make it? Did everybody…thirsty.”

“Aye, I know.” Cian gripped his hand, looked into his eyes. “I know.”

“We’ll start with this.” Glenna mixed something briskly in a cup. “Cian, if you’d go get the others. I could use Hoyt and Moira. We’ll want to get King into bed, make him comfortable.”

She bent to him as she spoke, and the cross around her neck dangled down, swung toward King’s face.

He hissed like a snake, bared fangs and skuddled back.

Then to Glenna’s horror, he got to his feet. And grinned.

“You never told me how it felt,” he said to Cian.

“Words fall short. It needs to be experienced.”

“No.” Glenna could only shake her head. “Oh God, no.”