Dance of the Gods Read Free Page B

reached her waist. Sweat dribbled down her temples, and more darkened the back of the white T-shirt she wore. Her eyes, fog gray, were staring straight ahead, focused, Blair assumed, on whatever got her through the reps.
    She was, by Blair’s gauge, about five-three, maybe a hundred and ten pounds, after you’d dragged her out of a lake. But she was game. Having game held a lot of weight on Blair’s scale. What Blair had initially judged as mousiness was, in actuality, a watchfulness. The woman soaked up everything.
    â€œThought you were still in bed,” Blair said as she stepped inside.
    Moira lowered the weights, then used her forearm to swipe her brow. “I’ve been up for a bit. You’re wanting to use the room?”
    â€œYeah. Plenty of room in here for both of us.” Blair walked over, selected ten-pound weights. “Not hunkered down with the books this morning.”
    â€œI…” On a sigh, Moira stretched out her arms as she’d been taught. She might have wished her arms were as sleek and carved with muscle as Blair’s, but no one would call them soft any longer. “I’ve been starting the day here, before I use the library. Usually before anyone’s up and about.”
    â€œOkay.” Curious, Blair studied Moira as she worked her triceps. “And you’re keeping this a secret because?”
    â€œNot a secret. Not exactly a secret.” Moira picked up a bottle of water, twisted off the cap. Twisted it back on. “I’m the weakest of us. I don’t need you or Cian to tell me that—though one or the other of you make a point to let me know it with some regularity.”
    Something gave a little twist inside Blair’s belly. “And that sucks. I’m going to tell you I’m sorry about that, because I know how it feels to get slammed down when you’re doing your best.”
    â€œMy best isn’t altogether that good, is it? No, I’m not looking for sorry,” she said before Blair could speak. “It’shard to be told you’re lacking, but that’s what I am—for now. So I come up here in the mornings, early, and lift these bloody things the way you showed me. I won’t be the weak one, the one the rest of you have to worry about.”
    â€œYou don’t have much muscle yet, but you’ve got some speed. And you’re a frigging genius with a bow. If you weren’t so good with it, things wouldn’t have turned out the way they did last night.”
    â€œWork on my weaknesses, and on my strengths, on my own time. That’s what you said to me—and it made me angry. Until I saw the wisdom of it. I’m not angry. You’re good at training. King was…He was more easy on me, I think, because he was a man. A big man at that,” Moira added with sorrow in her eyes now. “Who had affection for me, I think, because I was the smallest of us.”
    Blair hadn’t met King, Cian’s friend who’d been captured, then killed by Lilith. Then turned, and sent back as a vampire.
    â€œI won’t be easy on you,” Blair promised.
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    B y the time she’d finished a session with the weights and grabbed a quick shower, Blair had worked up that appetite. She decided to go for one of her favorites, and dug up the makings for French toast.
    She tossed some Irish bacon into a skillet for protein, selected Green Day on her MP3 player. Music to cook by.
    She poured her second cup of coffee before breaking eggs in a bowl.
    She was beating the batter when Larkin strolled in the door. He stopped, stared at her player. “And what is it?”
    â€œIt’s a—” How to explain? “A way to whistle while you work.”
    â€œNo, it’s not the machine I’m meaning. There are so many of those, I can’t keep them all in my brain. But what’s the sound?”
    â€œOh. Um, popular music? Rock—of the hard