Everything he said made sense even if it sounded as if the words had been dragged over a jagged surface. How could so many of his people be in dire straits? His words sat heavy on her heart. Remorse rolled around her shoulders, but she had not been the one to put everyone in jeopardy. “Fine. Here’s an easy question. What’s your friend’s name?”
“Tristan.”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” she muttered.
“I would have told ya earlier had ya asked.” Looking around, he commented, “With Quinn huntin’ Cathbad, I suggest ya search for the grimoire volumes.”
“I had that part figured out, buster. I can research much faster without you interferin’.”
He dropped his gaze to her, pinning her with his intense stare. “Do ya truly think I will allow ya out of my sight again after last night? Trust is not a word I choose to describe our relationship.”
Casidhe straightened him out. “We don't have a damn relationship. I don’t even like you.”
“’Tis not necessary to like me to form an alliance.”
He had an answer for everything.
She had to make up her mind which way to go, but she normally began all searches for rare books with her extensive library. Wall to wall books, some from before Herrick’s time and many of which only she could translate. Some she had only read parts of, intending to read further when she had time. She never had that kind of time it seemed.
Daegan cocked his head in the opposite direction Quinn had taken. “We should move. Now.”
Hair stood across her arms. “What did you hear?”
“If I knew for sure, I would tell ya, lass. Could be a natural animal, but could also be a demon or Imortik ... or somethin’ else. Would ya prefer to stay and find out?”
“Not unless you need more sword practice.” She matched his sarcastic attitude.
Then he lifted her backpack and held it open for her to strap on.
This had better be a short alliance or he’d drive her crazy.
She hooked her arms through the openings and snapped the closures shut. “Thank you.” Her appreciation lacked any warmth, but she’d said the words. That counted. “I need to return to the ancestral research centre. I would have stayed there to dig around today if I hadn’t been forced to leave.”
He said nothing, his annoyance loud in the silence.
She stomped away in the direction of her boat.
As she walked, confusion began to settle out in her mind. Now some of this made sense. Cathbad and this man knew each other. In fact, Quinn and Tristan, the captive, knew Cathbad. How many people were part of Quinn and Drake’s group? Sounded like a large number to have those resource networks.
Maybe the druid not showing this morning made sense if he’d seen Drake at her cottage, but did Cathbad have Fenella?
Casidhe’s chest hurt every time she thought about Fenella being terrified and harmed.
She had no reason to believe in Quinn or Drake, but she’d decided to stake her faith in Quinn coming through. She’d done her part by allowing him into her mind to see Cathbad. He’d been nice when he told her she had too many faces ...
Oh, shit.
Quinn’s voice had coached her to pick out one face and focus on it. She’d been worrying about Fenella, then Herrick, then the family. When she tried to bring up Fenella’s face, she’d had trouble separating it from all of the innocent faces at Herrick’s castle who would suffer if Casidhe failed them.
Quinn’s voice had soothed her until she could push past her family to pinpoint Fenella. Once that was done, he coached her on Cavan, whose face had been blurry before she dug deeper into her memories to find the first time she’d seen Cavan.
That would have been fine, but pinpointing Cavan had meant going past her memories of Herrick to find an earlier time when she’d observed Cavan’s face. Correction. Cathbad’s face.
Had Quinn seen anything else? Like Herrick?
Her heartbeat jumped with that possibility.
“What scared ya?” Drake asked.
She swung around on him, almost throwing herself out of balance. “What are you talkin’ about?”
“Your body changed. Your heart beat faster.”
He sensed that? Granted that she had not met many powerful supernaturals until now, but she knew only one who could recognize the change in her heart rate.
Herrick.
She pointed out, “You don’t just know of Cathbad, you actually know that druid, right?”
He arched his eyebrow at her. “’Tis not a new question, but I do.”
“Have you spoken to him in the past? I mean, just how long have you been alive?”
“Ya can shout all ya wish, but I will not answer many questions about myself.”
Miserable man was so obstinate. “I just want to know how we have any hope of findin’ a druid of his power.”
“The plan is simple, lass. He will find us.”
Her brain stalled at those words.
Drake had come to County Galway hunting the same grimoire as Cathbad. Could she really trust his motives? If she did find the grimoire volumes, would Drake use it to draw Cathbad out?
Or take the book and run?
She started seeing this all play out differently.
She had no idea if Drake would use the volume to protect people or if he’d find a way to save Fenella.
Now that she had a chance to think, how would Quinn find Fenella when he didn’t even have her phone number, last name, or any idea where to look for her?
She’d never met Drake’s friend, Tristan.
Did Tristan even exist?
Or had all of this been one big con?
Chapter 22
Renata’s head spun and her stomach cramped, because she had nothing else to throw up.
She’d been a survivor her entire life. She’d lived on scraps as a child while passed around from one poor family to the next in Amazon villages of barefoot children.
But she’d felt her life turn around when she learned at eighteen she was special. A Belador.
Pain streaked up her legs and
