“I have to take care of the horse.” He picked up a bucket of brushes and kept walking, leaving her gaping after him. Not even a hello, how are you, did you sleep well after I spent my body in yours? Mr. Hyde was back.
Had she been too bold last night? Was he just preoccupied? Confused, she turned and trudged toward the house. She looked back once and saw him staring at her. She knew that frown. She’d worn it many times herself. It wasn’t preoccupation. It was regret.
Sean’s wife, Coira, was in the kitchen, trying to pull a man away from her stove.
“Come join us, Bree,” she said, voice tinkling with laughter. “Rescue me from this rogue.” She swatted the man with her dish towel, and he turned. He was stunning—weren’t they all? Tall, muscular, dark hair a little lighter than Faelan’s, and he was wearing a kilt. “This is Ronan. He’s Faelan’s… let’s see… great-great-great-nephew on his brother Ian’s side. Is that right? Oh, well, Ronan, meet Bree. She’s the one who brought Faelan home to us.”
“Bree, huh? You’ve caused quite a
“In Gaelic, that means
Ronan moved forward, lithe as a tiger, and took her hand. “Nice to meet you, Bree. Ah, sorry,” he said pulling back. “Bacon grease. Coira’s kindly fixing me breakfast for lunch.” He snagged Coira’s towel and wiped Bree’s hand first, then his own, leaving her breathless.
“Nice to meet you too.”
“We’ll be forever grateful for what you’ve done. In fact, I’d say the entire planet is indebted to you. Not that they’ll ever know.”
“I have to admit it was an accident,” she said politely, her thoughts still with Faelan.
“So you were searching for treasure and found the Mighty Faelan instead?” He smiled. “I hope you’re ready for fame. They’ll be telling this story for generations to come.”
Fame? She’d always been obsessed with legends, now she would become part of Faelan’s. Her story would be told and passed down, and someday, maybe a hundred and fifty years from now, someone would stumble across it and wonder if such a thing could happen.
“Ronan just got back from Ireland.” Coira turned the bacon sizzling in the pan.
“You’re a warrior?” Bree asked.
Something dark flashed behind his eyes, fading just as fast. “Until something persuades me otherwise.” He grinned mischievously and leaned closer.
“If he stares into your eyes, ignore him. He knows it’s too soon.”
“Too soon for what?” Bree asked.
“To find his mate.”
“You think you’ll find her by looking into a woman’s eyes?” Bree smiled, their frivolous banter soothing her gloomy mood.
“They know their mates at first sight.” Coira pinched Ronan’s arm lightly as she passed. “She must be from one of the clans, Ronan, you know that. It’s an excuse for him to look at bonny lasses,” she told Bree. “If he actually saw the sign, he’d run so fast there’d be no catching him. There was that one cousin from England. He stared at that lass every time he saw her, even knowing he wouldn’t see anything.” She gave Ronan a mild disapproving look. “I doubt it stopped him.”
Ronan’s grin turned wicked, and Bree doubted it had either. “At first sight?” she asked, confused.
“Aye,” Coira said. “They know their mates as soon as they see them, in most cases, usually after their duty is finished, when they go on a different kind of hunt altogether, for a mate, not a demon. It’s always a distant cousin or someone from another clan.”
“Why?”
“Warriors can’t marry outsiders,” Coira said. “It’s clan law. We have to keep the lines pure. There’s too much at stake.”
Ronan smiled. “We don’t have to worry about divorce.”
Bree’s head rattled as if she’d head-butted Coira’s iron skillet. She struggled to keep her voice light. Faelan had known all along nothing could come of this thing between them and never once bothered to mention it.
Ronan grinned and leaned closer. “But one never knows where a distant cousin might turn up.”
Faelan came in and found them that way, Ronan’s hands on either side of Bree’s face, noses so close they were almost touching. Faelan’s face looked as volatile as a thundercloud. Served him right, with Sorcha hanging all over him like a cat in heat, when he wouldn’t give Bree the time of day.
“You must be Faelan.” Ronan reached for Faelan’s hand and then clapped him on both shoulders. “Welcome home, brother. You’re a legend here, you know. Not one that most believed, but a legend, nevertheless. I’ve just got back from Ireland. I can help you battle Druan. We’d wondered where he was lurking these days. If you have the time, I want to hear this fantastic tale.”
***
Tension filled the air as warriors gathered from near and far. The friendly homecoming was over. It was time to focus on the mission the clan had carried out since the beginning of time, protecting the world. A world most people—including Bree, until a few days ago—didn’t know needed saving. Keeping their normal, unenlightened lives safe from demons running around disguised as their neighbors, co-workers, and friends. Bree had learned demons were responsible for most of the diseases and viruses she’d always considered an ugly part of life. Wars, famine, natural disasters, all orchestrated from hell. It was as if her entire existence until now had been lived in a vacuum.
Ronan fell in step as she walked toward the library. “You look a bit nervous.”
“Are you kidding? I have to walk in there and tell them what I know about Russell. How many people can say they’ve been engaged to a demon?”
