Rune grunted.
“Of course, there’s two good guys here.”
He turned to her. “Two. Plus that other girl?”
“The other girl?”
Rune shrugged and mumbled. “The one that looks like you.”
“Catriona? You mean my sister?”
Rune grunted again.
Fiona sighed. “That’s who I meant, Catriona and the Highlander.”
Rune’s mouth turned down. “Then there are three.”
“Who’s the third?”
“Ryft.”
“Ryft?” Fiona repeated the name She didn’t know anyone named Ryft. She searched her memory for people she’d come in contact with, who’d given her the same feeling as Catriona and Broch.
No...I can’t think of—
She gasped.
Sean.
It had to be. She’d rarely seen the man without Catriona or Broch nearby, so she’d attributed that odd tingling in the back of her neck to them.
“Is Ryft Sean? Sean Shaft? He works for Parasol. He’s Catriona’s father. Adoptive, so I never—”
A man walked by with a woman too attractive and tawdry to be his date. Seemingly drunk, he threw a sloppy grin and a wink at Rune, as if to say, look what I got.
Rune’s lip snarled in what looked like disgust, but he followed the man’s progress until he disappeared around a corner.
Rune sniffed and turned back to Fiona.
“Ryft. What does he look like now?”
“Sean? He’s older. Salt and pepper hair, close-cropped beard...”
Rune ran his left hand down his right arm to his glove. “It’s him.”
“Who.”
“The man who took my arm. The man who took you.”
“Nobody took me.”
“When you were a baby.”
“Here? I wasn’t a baby here.”
“Yes you were. I saved you from the breeding cow and then that man—”
“That was Catriona.” She sighed. She’d hoped her father’s time away had cured his mental irregularities, but it seemed he still had trouble telling her and her sister apart. “We should probably get you home, dad.”
Rune’s expression flashed with anger. “What is this dad. Why do you call me that?”
“It’s a name people call their fathers here.”
“You may call me Father.”
She chuckled. “Okay. Whatever—”
He grabbed her upper arm with his gloved hand and Fiona knew it wasn’t flesh filling that leather. His fingers felt harder and stronger than any human’s. It was as if steel bands had wrapped around her bicep.
“You’re hurting me.” She tried to jerk away but he held her easily.
He leaned his face to hers and his laser-like white eyes pointed through her brain.
“Father.”
She nodded, frantic for him to release her. “Fine, yes. I’ll call you Father. I’m sorry.”
He let her go and she pulled away, rubbing at her arm.
“Show me Sean.”
She stared at the ground, anger burning in her chest. “I don’t know where he is now. I’ll take you to him tomorrow.”
He glared at her, but she refused to be intimidated.
“Tomorrow, Father. I have to sleep.”
He sighed. “Fine. But know I’m disappointed.”
He strode towards her car and stood at the passenger door, staring back at her.
Pushing herself off the wall, Fiona followed. She’d wanted her father to find her. She’d liked the idea of an ally.
She’d forgotten about his temper, his moods, his breaks with reality...
Fiona sighed.
This might have been a mistake.
Chapter Four
Catriona entered Sean’s office at nine-thirty a.m., already feeling behind schedule. She’d been in the shower when the phone rang. Rushing to get the shampoo out of her hair, she’d grabbed her cell on the fourth ring.
“Catriona?”
“Yes?” She remembered looking at her wet hand on the phone, wondering if she could be electrocuted by a cell.
“It’s Bobby. I’m security at Studio Twelve this morning. You told me to give you a call if I ever saw the big dude doing anything weird.”
She’d groaned, dreading to hear what Broch had gotten himself into.
“He’s at Studio Twelve? What’s that? Morning Chat? ”
“Yep.”
“What’s he doing?”
“Uh...he’s on air.”
“He’s what?” Her screech had made the shower door quiver.
She’d hung up the phone, thrown on jeans and a shirt that should have been tucked in but wouldn’t be, skipped the elevator and taken the stairs two flights to the payroll office beneath her apartment. She ran past a confused Jeanie sitting at her desk there, and bolted across the lot to Studio Twelve.
That’s where, with wet hair and no makeup, she’d pulled Kilty away from the microphone. She hadn’t even had a chance to yell at him when her phone rang a second time and Sean demanded they come to his office.
Weren’t Fridays supposed to be easy days?
Now in Sean’s office, she flopped to her seat beside Luther on Sean’s worn sofa. Her father’s friend and work partner sat in his favorite corner, hidden behind his morning paper.
“Good morning, girlie,” he said in his Barry White baritone.
“Good morning, Luther.” She threw her head back to stare at the ceiling. Broch wandered in. He’d fallen behind when the laces on his leather boots had come untied. She thought the soft boots looked as if he’d made them himself out of roadkill, and since they’d come with him via old timey Scotland, she probably wasn’t far off.
“What’s wrong with you?” asked Sean, blithely enjoying his morning coffee like a person not in charge of wrangling rogue Highlanders.
Catriona sighed. “I remember that.”
“What?”
“Enjoying an invigorating cup of coffee in the morning. Must be nice.”
Sean smiled at Broch as his son took a seat in the chair across from his desk. As usual, the Highlander looked happy as a puppy.
Catriona scowled. “I didn’t have the luxury of a cup of coffee this morning.”
Sean took a sip from his own mug. “Should I guess from the way you’re staring laser holes through the side of Broch’s head, that your lack of caffeine has something to do with
