Page 9

Chapter Eight

A cold night of freezing temperatures made the search of Dun Talamh unpleasant, but after a day the men found nothing to explain what had happened to Elspeth, which only added to Alec’s aggravation. The laird assigned extra guards to watch over their vassals at night and sent additional watchers to man the walls and towers. Ben kept the chambermaid in his infirmary as he tried different methods to release her from her glassy shroud without success. Farlan began making rounds every morning with a census he coordinated with the senior chieftains to ensure no one went missing.

As for Alec, he had been putting off returning to his chamber in the garrison hall, and he knew he couldn’t do that forever.

Darro intercepted him as he finished another sweep of the passages around the great hall. “We searched all day and half the night. Go to bed.”

“If you wake tomorrow and find us all frozen, what shall you do, chieftain?” Alec demanded. “Take a war hammer to the clan? I protect my brothers. If you dinnae wish aid me, leave me alone.”

“As you did Mistress Gibson in the garrison hall?” Darro countered. “She shouldnae be there, War Master. Bring her back to the stronghold—unless you mean to claim her as your lover?”

Alec walked away from the chieftain, but the fool came after him calling his name. Finally he stopped and faced him in the kitchens. “Dinnae push me, Brother. I’m no’ in the mood.”

“If you want her so badly, she shall wait. As would any female in Dun Talamh.” The chieftain’s placid eyes shone with a shrewdness he usually kept concealed. “Only I reckon she wishes you to wait.”

He wanted to punch his half-brother for his awareness. “So I shall, with great patience and willingness.”

Darro uttered a short laugh. “Havenae you ever met you , War Master?”

As Alec’s fists bunched, the clan’s cook came to stand between them, a wooden spoon in her hand. She held it like a cudgel as she gave them both a look of steely resolve .

“Right, then, lads. ’Tis my kitchens, thus I decide who stays and who goes. First, the one who cannae shut his mouth.” She pointed at the chieftain, and then toward the great hall. “Healer shallnae leave Elspeth’s side. Go and see what herbs and such he needs and fetch them.” When Darro opened his mouth to reply she tapped him under the chin with the spoon. “Dinnae talk. Go.”

As soon as he left, Doon regarded Alec, who held up his hands in surrender.

“I didnae pick the fight, Mistress,” Alec assured her. “Nor shall I again. I give you my word.”

“Your word my arse.” She made a contemptuous sound. “If the Gods were just, they’d render all liars mute. Then how should you cope, lad? Your pretty face doesnae outshine your words or acts. You’re spoiling for a brawl, and I shall be happy to give you one.”

Like Ava, the cook had never once beheld him or spoken to him out of lust. Now she wished to beat him.

“Forgive me, Mistress.” Suddenly and thoroughly ashamed, Alec hung his head.

“Inga shared her bed chamber with Polly and Elspeth, so she now sleeps alone,” Doon told him. “I asked her if she would share with Mistress Gibson, and she happily gave her permission. ”

It made more sense to put Olivia with another woman, although everything inside him wanted to disagree. “My thanks.”

“That lass, she’s lovely,” the cook said with a sigh. “Be gentle with her, for I reckon life in the world beyond hasnae.”

He nodded and walked from the kitchens to the passage leading to the garrison hall. Everything Olivia had said to him still echoed in his thoughts.

I didn’t ask you to protect me. I can take care of myself.

I’m stronger than you think.

Protecting Olivia would be simpler if she stayed in his garrison quarters. He could secure the door from the outside—the laird had designed the rooms on the first level to double as weapons storage—and keep her from wandering about the stronghold. Assigning two men to stand guard would not take away from those he needed for patrol and the watch. Bringing her food and bathing water would be no trouble; that he could do himself. At night he could go to her and guard her personally as they slept together, as before...

Don’t stop.

He’d never looked with desire upon a female before Olivia, and he could not say why she drew him so deeply and pervasively. That she did not seek his touch but welcomed it only added to his confusion. She’d told him she wasn’t a maiden. Surely she wanted him, if not for his face and body then for the pleasure he’d given her. He could imagine keeping her all to himself, locking her away and only permitting her to attend him, speak to him, give him all her smiles and cries and sighs...and that made his stomach heave.

’Tis no one to keep her safe from me but me.

By the time he reached his garrison quarters Alec knew what he had to do. Inside he found Olivia sitting by the hearth and stitching on a length of red linen. When she looked up and smiled her cheeks flushed, and he nearly changed his mind.

“I’ve secured another chamber for you.” He told her about the conversation he’d had with the cook, although not everything they’d said. “Inga’s a good lady. She’ll look out for you.”

Olivia folded up her sewing and began gathering her belongings without another word, which made his temper rise.

“You’ll do whatever I wish, aye?” he demanded.

“It’s how I was raised,” she said in a low, calm tone as she placed her garments in the laundry basket. “I was taught from birth to be obedient to my aunt. No matter what she told me to do, I did it.” She finally met his gaze. “Would you rather I argue with you again? I’m not really any good at that. Or maybe you’d like me to do something else. Please be specific.”

“You neednae do anything for me.” The sparkle of temper in her gray eyes took him aback. “I but wish to protect you, lass.”

“I told you, I can take care of myself.” She picked up her fripperies box and placed it on top of the garments in the basket. “I’m ready.”

He escorted her to the chatelaine’s chamber, which still had three beds inside, covered by the piecework blankets that Inga made from scraps of trimmings from the sewing room.

“How beautiful.” Olivia ran an admiring hand over the most intricate blanket. “I know embroidery and clothes-making, but I’ve never learned to quilt.”

“Doubtless Inga shall teach you.” Alec squashed a surge of jealousy—over a blanket, was he going mad?—and headed for the door. “Take care, my lady.”

“When will I see you again?” she asked, stopping him in his tracks.

He didn’t turn and look at her. “I’ve many duties. I cannae say.”

“I’m going to work in the gardens for Eachann. I like seeing things grow.” Olivia walked up to him, stopping only a handspan from his back. “I’m going to make some clothes, too. That’s all I have planned for today, unless you’d like to spend time with me. ”

Alec stared at the door. He had only to walk another three strides to leave the chamber. Just three strides.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Olivia added. “We could just go for a walk.”

Did she believe him made of stone? Alec closed his eyes for a moment, and then turned to face her. Another mistake, for now he saw the tears gleaming in her eyes.

“’Tis too dangerous, Olivia,” he finally told her. “This thing between us, ’tis no’ what I want. I’m no’ the man...I cannae be your...you must find someone else to keep you company.”

“All right.” She tried to smile. “If you change your mind, you know where I am.”

Alec nodded, and then left as fast as he could without running from her.

M eeting Roxy at Charles Kingston’s memorial service would have given Bodach the opportunity to bespell the buxom brunette again for another leisurely romp, but she didn’t show, and he rarely used mortal females for sex more than once. Instead, he had to sit and listen to the broken-hearted sobbing of Charles’ mother, who had doubtless paid top dollar for the lavish wake and funeral. Somehow she’d even convinced a minister to preside over the expensive affair. The old woman had no idea that, by having her only son commit suicide, Bodach had saved whatever was left of her retirement. In time he was sure Charles would have gambled the rest away. Even if he’d told her, she simply would have called the authorities.

Mortals never valued his efforts.

He had more on his mind today than how unappreciated he was in this realm. Several calls had come into his answering service inquiring about Olivia Gibson; two had come from prominent journalists. It seemed someone outside her circle of acquaintances had been poking around asking questions. He would deal with whoever it was, of course, but the timing couldn’t have been worse.

“Dear Lord, grant our beloved Charles Kingston peaceful rest in Heaven,” the minister said as he finished the graveside service. Raising his voice to be heard over Rebecca’s wild sobbing, he added, “Let your holy light shine on him forever, amen.”

It always amused Bodach how mortals believed they were all entitled to an afterlife of everlasting happiness. Although he hadn’t willingly committed suicide, Charles certainly hadn’t done anything in his wasteful life to deserve eternal bliss. If the beliefs most popular among his kind held true, he would be heading in quite the opposite direction.

Hell for Charles Kingston would be eternity in a casino where he always got the winning hand while being unable to wager so much as a penny.

One stern-looking older male approached Rebecca Kingston after the funeral concluded and asked her something that made her lash out at him with her shiny black purse. Clearly shocked, the man drew back. She then sobbed noisily into a handkerchief as two of her friends flanked her and walked her toward the line of waiting, flagged cars.

Bodach turned back to catch the mortal’s visible exasperation, as well as his eye color, which was a steelier version of Olivia Gibson’s. The man sat down in one of the folding chairs and took out his phone to send a text, and then stared at the grave with unseeing eyes while the other mourners departed. If he were a relation, he could end up creating new problems, so Bodach decided to go over and chat him up.

“I’m so sorry about my aunt’s behavior,” Bodach said, holding out his hand. “Robert Kingston, and you are...?”

“I’m Jarom Gardner,” the mortal said, grasping his fingers in a half-hearted clasp. His expression changed from stern to hopeful. “Did you happen to know Charles Kingston’s girlfriend, Olivia Gibson?”

“Not very well, I’m afraid.” He released a heavy sigh. “We were hoping she would attend, but for some reason she wasn’t able to come to the service.”

“Do you happen to know where I might find her?” Gardner asked. “It’s imperative that I see her before I go back to Utah.”

Although he had every intention of wiping this mortal’s memory and sending him on his way, he became intrigued. “Why is that, sir?”

“I have been searching for her for twenty-eight years.” The man’s face turned haggard. “I just learned that my daughter died ten years ago. I was able to trace Olivia here, but no one seems to know where she is. I don’t even have a recent photo of her.”

Oh, this was too much fun to resist, Bodach thought. It was also a chance to end all the speculation about Olivia Gibson for good. “I can take you to her apartment.”

As he drove the mortal from the cemetery across town, Bodach coaxed him into revealing why it was so important for him to find a granddaughter he’d never met.

“McKell, my daughter, was our only child,” Gardner said. “She disappeared when she was sixteen, and since she stole money from us I wanted nothing more to do with her. My wife, however, thought she might be in trouble, and spoke to her friends at church. No one had any idea where she had gone. We spoke to the police, but they were of no help.”

“Why spend twenty-eight years looking for your daughter?” Bodach asked. “She obviously didn’t want anything to do with you.”

“I believe McKell was so ashamed of herself for the sins she committed that she could never come home.” Gardner rubbed his eyes. “Now that she’s gone I can only pray for her soul. Olivia, however, belongs with her family. If she will agree to come home with me, and repent her sins, then we will forgive her and accept her. I will even name her as my heir.”

He glanced at the mortal. “Are you very wealthy?”

“Money is not an issue.” He made a dismissive gesture. “It’s more important to us that Olivia come back to her blood. I’ve already arranged a good match for her with the son of our oldest friends. She’ll want for nothing.”

“That sounds lovely.” Bodach found a parking spot right in front of the apartment door, and smiled at Gardner. “Come, I’ll introduce you to her.”

When she opened the door Roxy was wearing only a damp bath towel and had her hair in curlers. She immediately squealed and flung herself into Bodach’s arms. “You came back, baby.”

“I wanted to make sure you were all right, my dear.” Since she remained enchanted, against her ear Bodach murmured, “From now on your name is Olivia Gibson. Introduce yourself to the old man.”

Roxy’s eyes glittered with tiny red lights as she drew back and regarded Jarom Gardner. “Hello, sir.” She gave him a meltingly sweet smile. “I’m Olivia Gibson.”

“How do you do. I am your grandfather.” He caught her as she hurled herself at him, and tried to dodge the big plastic curlers that swung into his face. At the same time his hands drifted down close to her buttocks. “Ah, McKell was very wrong to take you from us. I’m here to correct that sin.”

Sin indeed, Bodach thought, watching Gardner finally squeeze Roxy’s bottom.

The girl drew back and frowned. “She was? She did? I thought I was an orphan.”

“You most certainly are not,” Gardner said firmly. “If you’ll come back to Utah with me, I will allow you to join our family. We will take care of you from now on.” He looked down at her breasts and cleared his throat. “As long as you obey me, of course.”

“Why don’t you go inside, Jarom?” Bodach suggested. When the old man let go of Roxy, he put an arm around her to keep her beside him. “I believe I have solved all of your financial problems, my dear girl.”

“You have?” Roxy leaned over to check out the old man again. “You want to do a threesome with that guy? I don’t think you’re into him.”

Bodach shook his head. “From this point on you are his granddaughter, Olivia Gibson. Do you understand?”

Her curlers bobbed as she nodded. “I’m Olivia. The old guy’s my grandpa.”

“Get rid of all your real identification and pack your things. Go back to Utah with him, join his family and do whatever he wants you to do.” Bodach patted her bottom. “Be a good girl now.”

“You sure you don’t have time for a quickie, baby?” she asked, looking hopeful again. “My pussy is already soaked, you know.”

“You don’t need me.” He really was going to miss her, he thought as he stepped back inside. “You have your grandfather. Why don’t you go take care of him now?”

Roxy blew him a noisy kiss before she rushed back into the apartment. “Grandpa! Do you know how much I love you already? Let me show you!”

A lec haunted the passages and towers every night for the next week, looking for what had attacked the chambermaid. During the days he kept watch over Olivia as she worked in the gardens. To free up more of his time for both, he juggled his duties with the other senior men in the clan. He could not sleep anyway, and his efforts began to take a toll on him, gnawing away at the ragged leash he kept on his temper. He had to keep silent to avoid snapping at his brothers over nothing at all.

“Already you owe me at least four moons of watch duty,” Farlan told him one morning when he asked the seneschal to take his turn in the tower. “I’ll do another, but ’tis the last time, War Master.”

He made a careless gesture. “You may ask anything of me that you wish.”

“That yew longbow you carved over winter,” Farlan said at once.

He favored that bow above all the others he possessed, and a month past would have told the seneschal to go fack himself for asking. “Fine. ’Tis yours.”

“Now I ken something’s amiss with you,” the seneschal said. “Forget the bow. Tell me what you’re doing, Brother.”

“Safeguarding the stronghold and our people is my duty,” he reminded him. “The bow is yours, with my thanks.”

“If you dinnae soon sleep I shall use the thing to shoot you in the arse,” Farlan called after him.

After two more arguments in as many days, Alec realized he needed an outlet before his temper grew too unruly to control. He went early to the lists to shoot a few quivers of arrows at the targets, and there saw the laird’s wife practicing her staff fighting moves in one of the sparring circles. Ava would not coddle or spare him, he suspected, and expected to be treated like any other warrior. She was also strong enough to withstand a few blows without serious injury, as long as he was careful with where and how he dealt them.

“May I serve as your partner, my lady?” Alec said as he retrieved a stave and approached the ring.

“Sure.” Ava waited for him to join her, shifting her grip on her stave as she circled around him. “Darro would do better for you, though. I’m not near as fast or strong as you half-Fae boys.”

“You’re more devious, my lady.” He feinted to the left before swinging to the right, ducking under her stave as he rapped the side of her calf. “You ken that for the second meeting of the time cycle MacBren shall arrive just after the binding ceremony.”

“Tasgall mentioned it.” She shifted back, watching his face as she gripped the wooden staff with both hands. “This time his men search the first and second floors, don’t they?”

“Aye, they do. They’ll beat any male vassal who crosses their path and attack any female they catch unprotected.” He parried the two-handed blow she brought to his side and forced her back a few steps. “The brutes enjoy harming women, especially the young and helpless.”

“Do tell. Time out.” She lowered her staff and regarded him for a moment. “I think you need to stop dancing around whatever you really want to say to me, War Master.”

“Olivia doesnae ken what happens when the MacBren comes,” he said, planting the end of his stave on the hard-packed ground. “Dinnae tell her, my lady. ’Tis enough for her to accept being trapped here and living among us.”

Ava cocked her head. “You really think keeping her in the dark is a good idea?”

“How do I tell her that if she crosses the path of the MacBren he’s likely to seize and toss her to his men?” Alec said flatly. “They’ll drag her to the floor and do as they wish with her. After they’ve all taken a turn, they’ll cut her throat.” As she started to argue he added, “’Tis what happened to one of the maids caught by them before the curse. ”

“She died?” the laird’s wife asked.

He saw how pale she’d grown but knew unlike Olivia that she could bear the truth.

“Aye.” Alec planted the end of his stave. “Now when the MacBren comes the maid vanishes, just as all other mortals and clansmen slain during the first attacks on the stronghold do at the time they died. No matter how we safeguard them, they go without warning at the same time they died in our world. At the end of the cycle, they reappear, with no memory of their end, or the passage of time since. We shallnae ken if the same happens to your murderess until next cycle.”

“Tasgall never mentioned that. He probably thought it would scare the daylights out of me.” She cleared her throat. “Look, Alec, there’s no reason to keep this secret. On the contrary, we ladies need to know what we’re facing so we can protect ourselves.”

“Yes, Alec,” a low, tight voice said. “We do.”

Alec stifled a curse as he turned to see Olivia standing on the edge of the circle. “How much did you hear?”

She folded her arms. “Everything after you said that Ava is more devious than Darro. You might want to rethink that, too. He sent me here.”

“I didnae wish to frighten you, lass,” he chided, trying to look wounded .

“Too late. Also, giving me the hurt puppy dog eyes isn’t going to work anymore, so quit that.” She came to Ava’s side of the circle and eyed the stave in her hand. “How heavy is your staff?” When she offered it, Olivia took it in both hands and frowned. “A little much for me. Is there a lighter one here?”

“You cannae spar with me,” Alec chided, and then had to follow both women over to the racks. “I dinnae fight females.”

“Really? I’m not a guy, and you were fine with fighting me,” Ava said as she took down a shorter, lighter stave and handed it to Olivia. “Try this one, Liv. It should be about right for you.”

“Stop.” Alec tried to take the staff from her and yelped as she used it to rap him on the back of the hand. “We dinnae spar outside the circle.”

“You have too many rules,” Olivia said, and nodded to Ava before she marched back over to the circle.

“Uh-oh.” The laird’s wife regarded him with a serene expression. “I’d say you’re about to get your butt kicked, War Master.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Fack.”

Facing Olivia in the sparring circle seemed ridiculous, although his hand still throbbed from the blow she’d given him. He didn’t try to evade her first attack, which she made with surprising ferocity, but simply blocked her stave.

“We should talk, lass,” he suggested.

“After days of avoiding me or watching me from a distance before you run off, that’s a nice change.” She swung the staff at his right leg, forcing him to hop. “You could have told me then all the things you just said to Ava—and yes, I get that you don’t want to scare me. Only I’m an adult, and I’m part of this now. I have the right to know.”

He grunted as she struck his left ankle. “’Tis naught for you to fret over, Olivia.”

“I’m here. That qualifies me to fret.” She brought the stave up and stopped short of smashing the end into his chin. “I’m not a child, War Master. Stop treating me like one.”

Alec didn’t push away her staff as he marched up to her, forcing her to cast aside the weapon. “I wish only to protect you.”

“I think I hear my husband calling me,” Ava said, winking at them before she walked into the stronghold.

“You can’t protect me. Not for every minute of every day.” Olivia’s gray eyes shifted as she looked all over his face. “If you’re that worried, I will stick with Ava when you’re working. I know I can help her with her investigation, and the laird has two guards following her everywhere when he can’t be with her. At night...” She stopped and ducked her head. “At night I’m with Inga, so I’m never alone. There are always two guards in the hall, too.”

“I want you in my bed.” He hadn’t meant to say it so baldly, but it was the truth.

Olivia gave him a skeptical look. “You said you didn’t want to be with me. That it was dangerous. Now you want me in your bed again. Why?” When he didn’t reply she made an exasperated sound. “Alec, tell me.”

“I dinnae sleep anymore. I’m failing the clan. I’m so tired, Olivia.” He took hold of her shoulders. “With you in my arms, I might manage to sleep.”

“So you just want someone to hold.” She looked away. “You could get a maid to do that. They’d probably line up outside your door every night.”

“No. No one else. Just you.” He couldn’t put into words what he wanted from her, so he said, “Naught else shall I expect. Only stay the nights with me, and permit me hold you, so I may rest a few hours.”

An unfathomable expression came over her face. “All right.”