He breathed deeply and concentrated on the earthy smells of the wildwood. They helped him hold his temper, studying the trees and shadowy underbrush rather than Fiona's slim errand-boy in gray turtleneck and slacks. The giant cat caught his mood, though. Dougal could feel the tension where dark fur pressed against his leg.
Shadow wanted to kill. His simple predator mind lived for these prowls through the forest--lived for warm blood on his tongue and bones crunching between his teeth.
"And you did nothing? The two of you did nothing while this Pendragon hacked Liam to pieces? Brian is as much a threat to you as he is to the rest of us! Common sense should have told you to kill the snake when you had the chance!" He glared at the eunuch in front of him, but held his temper. I'll attack only when I'm sure of winning.
The Forest of Castle MacKenzie was no place for a casual walk. Dougal had found it, molded it with his magic, and stocked it in the image of a far older and deadlier land. Some of the plants were nearly as dangerous as the animals. Even the bedrock was a living weapon--his weapon. If Sean strolled in, alone, to bring his news, his sister must have warded him.
"Fiona doesn't want him dead." Sean wrinkled his nose and then gave a smirking half-shrug--a feminine move that emphasized how much he resembled his twin sister.
They had the same intermediate height, moderate for a woman or smallish for a man, with slim muscles built for stamina rather than brute strength. Their faces could be masks from the same mold--dark brooding eyes above high cheekbones, smooth dark skin that would look more natural on Crete than Galway Bay, a nose just short of sharpness. They were sensual predator's faces, dangerous on a woman and incongruous on a man.
Dougal pulled himself out of the anger. Standing in his forest, he couldn't afford such thoughts. Sunlight dappled the shaggy trunks and tangled underbrush, forming mysterious shadows and lumps that seemed to move in the corner of the eye: wild forest, forest with the teeth and claws and danger left in it. Civilization had never touched this forest. Dougal intended that it never would.
Dougal grunted. "So Fiona wasn't ready to move. I was. Your precious Pendragon ruined weeks of planning. My next plan is going to include killing him."
Shadow flicked his ears and licked his lips, staring at Sean with hungry eyes. The cat had felt the thoughts of blood and death. Dougal read his body language clearly: the mutated leopard was thinking about a little snack. The beast-master squatted down beside his creature and ran a soothing hand over the coarse fur. The sharp smell of male cat twitched his nostrils.
Not yet, his hands said. This one does not make good prey. It is weak. It is not quick and challenging in its turns. You would find it a boring hunt and the flesh is bland.
Dougal stared into yellow eyes. Wait, he thought. We will find a better hunt for you.
One they were sure of winning. Survival in the Summer Country involved cold calculation as often as it did passionate violence.
Shadow settled at his feet, a sleek pool of ebony fur with coal black paw-print markings where the light touched just right. The cat started licking one paw and nipping gently around his fishhook claws, then lifted his gaze to meet Sean's-- coldly weighing potential prey, measuring, thinking hunter's thoughts. Dougal's thoughts.
Sean watched all this with lazy confidence and then shook his head. "Fiona wouldn't like that, you know. She'd be displeased if you killed Brian. She has plans for the little boy."
"Plans?" Dougal spat on the ground between them. "I had plans, too! Your fair-haired boy waded right into the middle of my plans and murdered Liam, and the two of you as much as helped him! I ought to string Fiona's ears around my neck for standing by and watching like it was two beasts fighting in a pit! Now she's saying I can't even take vengeance on the Sassenach who held the blade? Your bitch sister asks too much."
A sardonic smile answered him. "As the human children would say, any time you're feeling froggy, just hop. You won't be troubling my sleep, much less Fiona's. And you'll have a hard time selling that Sassenach label in the Summer Country. Brian's blood is as pure as yours or mine."
Dougal straightened up, resting his hand casually on his dagger. "Blood is one thing. Mind is another. The Pendragons have the Sassenach mind. Merlin taught them to believe in rules. Merlin taught them to believe in God and King and Parliament. Brian would bind iron chains around your wrists and ankles. Do you want to live like that?"
Sean's mocking smile hardened. "Fiona's plans won't leave Brian much room for God and King and Parliament. Just stay clear of him. Otherwise, my sister will be most displeased."
Interesting, thought Dougal. He keeps talking about Fiona's plans. His sister will be most displeased. Sean was always slipping little twists into his words, giving one sentence five different meanings. It sounded as if there might be a touch of brotherly dissent brewing, even the jealousy Dougal had noticed more than once before.
"And don't you have any plans of your own, friend Sean?"
"Oh, I like this plan." Sean's drawl carried a slight edge. "We've been playing tag with Brian since he was in diapers. This year, we've decided to win."
"And yet she doesn't want him dead. What does she want to do with him?"
The half-man shrugged, but a glint of hatred grew in his
