“She doesn’t look scared.”
“She doesn’t look comfortable, either,” Quinn said. “I’m not sure what her role is.”
Lucan gave his chin a jerk. “Is the tall, barrel-chested man the MacClure laird?”
“Aye.”
“Maybe she’s his wife.”
Quinn watched them for a moment. “He makes sure she stays close to him, but he won’t touch her. It’s almost as if he’s afraid of her. An odd way for a man to treat a wife.”
Lucan only grunted in response.
Quinn was used to Lucan’s quiet ways. He’d always been the thinker of them, the one who waited and watched and formulated a plan, the one with a steady head, a cool temper. It stood to reason that he would be the one to keep them together as well as master the god inside him.
Quinn had always envied Lucan’s control over his emotions. But not even Quinn’s calm brother could hide the fact that something disturbed him, and Quinn knew that something had chestnut hair, dark eyes, and waited in the castle.
“What?” Lucan growled when he caught Quinn staring at him.
Quinn shook his head. “Nothing. Who’s watching Cara?”
“Fallon.”
But Quinn had seen Lucan jerk at the mention of her name. Aye, Cara distressed Lucan, and Quinn found he enjoyed it. It was about time Lucan felt something. For far too long he had kept himself locked inside.
“Fallon will watch her,” Lucan said after a moment. “I trust him with that.”
“What about when the Warriors come? Deirdre may well come herself.”
Lucan sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Fallon won’t let the god out.”
“We’ll be stronger with all three of us. Even you know that.”
“I know,” Lucan agreed. “But you must understand Fallon’s fear.”
Quinn pulled his gaze away, his anger rising to the surface. He felt his claws lengthen, his teeth sharpen. It was always the same fury every time he thought of Fallon refusing to do what could help them most.
As much as Quinn wanted to smash his fist into something, they had to stay quiet as they watched. So he turned his attention, and thoughts, back to the MacClures. “They’re going to burn the bodies.”
“Aye.”
They sat and listened as the MacClure laird drew his men around him. The laird’s voice was deep and forceful. Lucan and Quinn didn’t have to move from their spot behind the cottages to hear that MacClure was sending his men to question other clans about the death of the village.
“This land is cursed,” one man said. “The MacLeods were massacred on it. Right there at the castle.”
Every eye turned to look at the castle. Even Quinn found his gaze pulled to the ruins of his home. There was no movement in the remains, nothing that would draw the MacClures’ interest.
“Calm yourself, Allan,” the laird growled. “The land isn’t cursed. Don’t be spreading lies.”
Allan shook his head and took a step back. “It is, laird. Why else would a village on the land that used to be the great MacLeods’ die the same way as the MacLeods?”
“We don’t know if it’s the same. The MacLeod massacre is a legend.”
“A legend that begins in truth,” the woman said.
Her straight black hair, unbraided and unadorned, lifted in the constant breeze from the sea. She let her gaze travel the circle of men.
“What are you saying, Isla?” the laird demanded.
Quinn nudged Lucan with his hand. “I’ve seen her before.”
“In the village?” Lucan asked.
“Nay. Before, Lucan.”
It didn’t take long for him to realize Quinn spoke of a time before the god had been unbound.
Lucan’s lips thinned. “Where?”
“I cannot remember.”
“Are you sure you’re not recalling a woman that looked like her? Many women have black hair.”
Quinn nodded. He’d caught but a glimpse of her face, but in that moment he had been sure. “Aye, but do many have eyes so pale a blue?”
Lucan’s gaze snapped to the woman. He shifted and moved between two of the cottages to get closer.
Quinn hurried to follow him. He couldn’t remember where he had seen Isla, but he knew he had. If only he could remember where. And when.
Isla turned her face, devoid of any expression, to the MacClure laird. “I’m saying Allan is correct. The MacLeods were executed here. Just as your people were.”
The MacClure laird fisted his hands, and Quinn didn’t know if he would hit Isla or not. “Enough.”
“To send your men out is foolhardy,” Isla continued as though she hadn’t heard him. “Keep them close, laird.”
Quinn stopped Lucan when he would have gotten closer. Isla turned and walked away from the group of men. She halted midstride and suddenly turned and looked over her shoulder at the castle, and for the first time there was a hint of emotion on her face.
It was hatred.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Cara jerked away from the window, her hand at her throat. The raven-haired woman had seen Cara; of that she was sure. A shudder went through Cara, for she was certain the woman held malice in her gaze.
“Cara?”
She jumped at the sound of Fallon’s voice.
“What are you doing up here? Lucan will have my head if you harm yourself.”
She couldn’t tear her gaze from the black-headed woman, her long, straight locks blowing in the wind.
Fallon navigated the broken stones and wood and grasped Cara’s arm. “Cara.”
“Look, Fallon,” she said, and pointed.
He glanced out the window and swore under his breath. “Did she see you?”
“Aye.”
“How?”
Cara tore her gaze from the woman. “I don’t know. I kept to the shadows. I just wanted to see what was going on at the village. I didn’t make a sound, didn’t move.”
“I believe you. Do you know that woman?”
“I’ve never seen her before in my life, but there was something . . . familiar about her.”
Fallon’s dark green eyes narrowed on Cara. “Don’t come up here again. You could fall through the boards.”
“I was very careful.”
Cara turned to look back at the way she had come. It had been much easier crossing the rubble on her way to the window since most of the stones acted as steps of sorts. Then there had been the board that she had walked over. Her gaze had been on the village, so she hadn’t noticed the gaping hole the board covered or how far down she would fall if she slipped.
“Lucan is going to rip my head off,” Fallon mumbled beneath his breath.
She had been more than confident in her ability to climb over the rocks in her haste to get to the window. Now she wasn’t so sure about getting back.
“Is there another way?”
Fallon shook his head. “This is it.”
“I see.”
