“Perhaps tardiness is relative, given the length of your existence.”
Now he did laugh, couldn’t stop himself. It was quick and rich and full of appreciation. “Aye, the strangest creature, with a sharp wit buried in there. She offered me a deal. Are you interested to hear it?”
“I am, very interested.”
“I have only to walk away from this. You and the others, and what comes on Samhain. I do that, and she’ll call it quits between her and me. Better, if I walk away from you, and into her camp, I’ll be rewarded handsomely. All and anything I can want, and a place at her side. Her bed as well. And any others I can to take to mine.”
Moira pursed her lips, then sipped more whiskey. “If you believe that, you’re greener than you think me.”
“I was never so green as you.”
“No? Well, which of the two of us was green enough to sport with a vampire and let her sink fangs into him?”
“Hah. You’ve got a point. But then you’ve never been a randy young man.”
“And women, of course, have no interest in carnal matters. We much prefer to sit and do our needlework with prayers running through our heads.”
His lips twitched before he shook his head. “Another point. In any case, no longer being a randy young man or with any sprig of green left in me, I’m fully aware Lilith would imprison and torture me. She could keep me alive, as it were, for…well, ever. And in unspeakable pain.”
He considered it now, his thoughts sparked by the brief debate with Moira. “Or, more likely, she’d keep her word—on sex and other rewards—for as long as it suited her. She would know I’d be useful to her, at least until Samhain.”
In agreement, Moira nodded. “She would bed you, lavish gifts on you. Give you position and rank. Then, when it was done, she’d imprison and torture you.”
“Exactly. But I have no intention of being tortured for eternity, or being of use to her. She killed a good man I had affection for. If for nothing else, I owe her for King.”
“She would have been displeased by your refusal.”
He sent Moira a bland look. “You’re the queen of understatement tonight.”
“Then let me also be the mistress of intuition and say you told her you would make it your mission to destroy her.”
“I swore it, in my own blood. Dramatic,” he said, glancing at the nearly healed wound on his hand. “But I was feeling theatrical.”
“You make light of it. I find it telling. You need her death by your own hands more than you’ll say. She doesn’t understand that, or you. You need it not just for retribution, but to close a door.” When he said nothing, she cocked her head. “Do you think it odd I understand you better than she? Know you, better than she could.”
“I think your mind is always working,” he replied. “I can all but hear the wheels. It’s hardly a surprise you’re not sleeping well these past days with all the bloody noise that must go on inside that head of yours.”
“I’m frightened.” His eyes narrowed on her face, but she wouldn’t meet them now. “Frightened to die before I’ve really lived. Frightened to fail my people, my family, you and the others. When I feel that cold and dark as I did tonight, I know what would become of Geall if she wins this. Like a void, burned out, hulled, empty and black. And the thought of it frightens me beyond sleep.”
“Then the answer must be she can’t win.”
“Aye. That must be the answer.” She set the whiskey aside. “You’ll need to tell Glenna what you told me. I think it would be harder to get the answer if there are secrets among us.”
“If I don’t tell her, you will.”
“Of course. But it should come from you. You’re welcome to play any of the instruments you like whenever you’re moved to. Or if you’d rather be private, you could take any you like to your room.”
“Thank you.”
She smiled a little as she got to her feet. “I think I could sleep for a bit now. Good night.”
He stay
ed as he was as she retrieved her candle and left him. And stayed hours longer in the fire-lit dark.
In the raw, rainy dawn Moira stood with Tynan as he and the handpicked troops prepared to set out.
“It’ll be a wet march.”