Lupi 04 - Night Season

human would have no defense against it. Unless, of course, she has shields like yours?”
    Cullen shook his head. “No. But she’s alive. That’s what counts.”
    There was said to be one other defense against glamour. One that had nothing to do with shields, and everything to do with an old, old story, told in many forms…“We will learn soon enough if he holds her in a glamour, won’t we? Assuming you continue to ride with me,” he added politely. “You may believe Cynna no longer requires rescue, since it is sidhe who hold her now, not Ahk.”
    â€œOf course we ride with you. I prefer not to endanger my given word with assumptions. You understand there will not be a battle? I do not wage war on a brother liege.”
    â€œBattle is a broad word, Liege Theil. Some battles employ physical combat. Not all.”
    Theera, sitting a magnificent white mare alongside her half sister, regarded him with sympathy verging on outright pity. Theera did not like him. “I hope you also understand that we cannot wrest your sweetheart from Aduello for you, if she chooses otherwise. Even if that choice is the result, in part, of a sexual glamour, we must respect it. Glamour cannot compel one to act against one’s nature, after all.”
    â€œThat’s true,” Cullen said sweetly. And left it at that, since the implication was that he’d broken free of Theera’s glamour because desiring her was very much against his nature.
    That wasn’t precisely true. But neither was her spurious sympathy.
    There might have been a hint of amusement in Theil’s eyes as she turned her horse to the west. “We cannot follow them magically. Their horses left a trail, however, that…” She turned her head as one of her male sidhe called out softly.
    Two riders came over the nearest low hill, pausing at its crest as if to make sure they were seen. One was male, with coppery skin and black hair that reminded Cullen of Benedict. He wore a suede jacket of the sort seen everywhere. The other was female and bundled up against the cold in what he could have sworn was L.L. Bean winter wear.
    After that brief pause, they put their horses back into motion. The woman led a pack horse as well. No one else moved. As they reached the bottom of the hill, Theil spoke clearly, her voice raised just enough to be heard. “My sentry did not report your arrival.”
    â€œYour sentry is undamaged,” the man said in Common Tongue. “I did not wish to be seen until now.”
    â€œYou—” Theil broke off. Her eyes widened.
    A second later, Theera gasped. About then Cullen caught the faintest wisp of a scent, one he’d never encountered before. One that made the hairs on his nape bristle.
    The two riders steered their horses through the staring, motionless sidhe. The woman was human. Cullen was sure of that, though she possessed a Gift of a sort he’d never seen before. He had no idea what the man was, but he had power. Great gobs of it.
    â€œLiege Theil,” the man said courteously, “I would introduce to you Kai Tallman Michalski of Earth and offer you two of my names. I am known as Nathan Hunter.”
    The liege had her expression under control. “I greet you, Nathan Hunter and Kai Tallman Michalski. I would offer no discourtesy, but I am…extremely curious…about your form and your presence.”
    â€œI feel sure you have heard the tale about my form.”
    â€œWinter’s hound,” one of the sidhe whispered.
    Theil stiffened. She gave the one who’d spoken a single glance. The man flung himself from his horse to kneel. “My apologies. I should not have…I did not think.”
    The man called Nathan nodded once. “Forgiven. My identity is not a secret among sidhe.”
    â€œIt damned sure is to me,” Cullen drawled.
    Theil gave him a look that ought to have sliced him in two.
    Nathan Hunter, however, had only a small, rueful smile. “Your kind never like the way I smell. I am not Challenging you, wolf. Stop bristling at me.”
    â€œYou are delaying me, though. Never mind what you’re called. What are you?”
    The man exchanged a glance with the woman, and she spoke for the first time—in clear English with a slight Texas accent. “He’s a hellhound. I know he doesn’t look like one, but that’s a long story, and we’re running out of time. If we’re