Dance of the Gods Read Free

not.” He rubbed absently at his thigh.
    Blair remembered yanking the arrow out of him herself, and that he’d barely uttered a sound. The guy had balls to go with the gorgeous eyes and curious nature. He was no slouch in a fight, and no whiner after the battle. “Leg giving you trouble?”
    â€œA little stiff, a little sore. Glenna’s a good healer. Yours?”
    She bent her leg back, heel to butt, gave it a testing pull. “It’s okay. I heal fast—part of the family package. Not as fast as a vamp,” she added. “But demon hunters heal faster than your average human.”
    She picked up the jacket she’d tossed on the table, put it on against the morning cool. “I want coffee.”
    â€œI don’t like it. I like the Coke.” Then he smiled, easy, charming. “Will you be making yourself the breakfast?”
    â€œIn a little while. I’ve got some things I want to do first.”
    â€œMaybe you wouldn’t mind making enough for two.”
    â€œMaybe.” Clever guy, too, she thought. You had to respect his finagling. “You got something going now?”
    It took him a moment, but he tried to spend a little time each day with the miraculous machine called the television. He was proud to think he was learning new idioms. “I’m after taking the horse for a ride, then feeding and grooming him.”
    â€œPlenty of light today, but you shouldn’t head into the woods unarmed.”
    â€œI’ll be riding the fields. Ah, Glenna, she asked if I’d not ride alone in the forest. I don’t like to worry her. Were you wanting a ride yourself?”
    â€œI think I had enough of one last night, thanks to you.” Amused, she gave him a light punch in the chest. “You’ve got some speed in you, cowboy.”
    â€œWell, you’ve a light and steady seat.” He looked back out at the trampled ground. “You’re right. It was a good fight.”
    â€œDamn right. But the next one won’t be so easy.”
    His eyebrows winged up. “And that one was easy?”
    â€œCompared to what’s coming, bet your ass.”
    â€œWell then, the gods help us all. And if you’ve a mind to cook eggs and bacon with it, that’d be fine. Might as well eat our fill while we still have stomachs.”
    Cheery thought, Blair decided as she went inside. The hell of it was, he’d meant it that way. She’d never known anyone so offhand about life and death. Not resigned—she’d been raised to be resigned to it—just a kind of confidence that he’d live as he chose to live, until he stopped living.
    She admired the viewpoint.
    She’d been raised to know the monster under the bed was real, and was just waiting until you relaxed before it ripped your throat out.
    She’d been trained to put that moment off as long as she could stand and fight, to slash and to burn, and take out as many as humanly possible. Because under the strength, the wit and the endless training was the knowledge that some day, some way, she wouldn’t be fast enough, smart enough, lucky enough.
    And the monster would win.
    Still there’d always been a balance to it—demon and hunter, with each the other’s prey. Now the stakes had been raised, sky-fricking-high, she thought as she made coffee. Now it wasn’t just the duty and tradition that had been passed down through her blood for damn near a millennium.
    Now it was a fight to save humankind.
    She was here, with this strange little band—two of which, vampire and sorcerer, turned out to be her ancestors—to fight the mother of all battles.
    Two months, she thought, until Halloween. Till Samhain, and the final showdown the goddess had prophesied. They’d have to be ready, she decided as she poured the first cup. Because the alternative just wasn’t an option.
    She carried her coffee upstairs, into her room.
    As quarters went, it