Arran swallowed and scratched his neck with his white claws.
“He wasn’t talking to Warriors in the Pit, was he?” she asked as apprehension began to creep up her back.
Arran shook his head. “I’m not sure who he spoke with at the door, but who ever it was, he was there for a while.”
Marcail grew sick as realization dawned. “I know what he was doing.”
“What?” Duncan asked.
“When Quinn was taken the first time I told Charon to tell Deirdre that I knew the spell, hoping that she would take me in trade for Quinn.”
Arran punched the rocks. “Shite!”
Duncan mumbled something underneath his breath.
“Did Quinn know you did that?” Arran asked.
She nodded. “I told him. He wasn’t happy. Charon didn’t do it, though. I didn’t think he would tell Deirdre about me because he was distressed to learn that I had the spell and was in Deirdre’s control.”
“You canna trust Charon,” Duncan growled. “He cares only for himself. No one else matters to him. No one.”
She realized that now. Unfortunately, it was too late for her. “They will come for me. Neither of you must stop them from taking me.”
“We swore to Quinn we would protect you,” Arran said.
“What you’ll do is get yourselves beaten or killed,” she argued. “Let them take me. The best thing you can do for me and Quinn is to stay alive and unharmed.”
Arran sighed loudly, obviously not liking her logic.
She turned to Duncan. “Have you had any more pain that I need to help you with before I’m taken?”
“Nothing I canna handle,” he said. “They are no longer beating Ian.”
She placed a hand on Duncan’s arm, then did the same to Arran. “Both of you are good men. Quinn is counting on you. Don’t let him down.”
“Never,” Duncan swore.
She smiled because she heard the truth in his words. “Deirdre cannot kill me, remember.”
“She canna kill you but she can have others do it,” Arran said. “Doona forget that, Marcail.”
How could she when she would soon be facing that very possibility? And if she knew anything about Deirdre, her death was going to be very, very painful.
“You canna go with her,” Duncan said. “If you do, we will never be returned to the men we once were.”
Marcail ached for the Warriors. “I don’t see how I will have much of a choice. If I could, I would stay with you.”
“What if we told the other Warriors in the Pit just what you carry in your mind? They might help us protect you,” Arran said.
She shook her head. “You could try, but I don’t think it will work. Besides, do you want everyone to know about a spell that I cannot remember?”
“What I want them to know is that we can push the gods away forever.”
“Can you really?” she asked. “Deirdre can once more unbind your gods, and I imagine there are Warriors with her that don’t wish to be mortal again.”
Arran cursed and turned away. She understood his disappointment because she felt the same way.
“What choice do we have?” Duncan asked. “You need to be protected from Deirdre.”
Marcail felt the sadness weigh heavily on her shoulders. “I’m afraid that’s impossible.”
Quinn made sure he appeared to sleep well past the time Deirdre rose from the bed. When she stood beside him and ran her hands over his body, it was everything he could do not to throw her hands away from him.
It wasn’t until she finally left the chamber that he rose from the bed. He found a ewer of water and splashed some on his face.
He was sitting to pull on his boots when the door flew open and Deirdre stood in the doorway, fury flashing from her evil white eyes.
“Did you not sleep well?” he asked, uncaring about what had riled her so early in the morn.
“My sleep does not concern you at this moment.”
“Is that so?” He pulled on his second boot and stood. “Then what should concern me?”
“Marcail.”
Quinn felt as if someone had reached into his chest and yanked out his heart. He couldn’t manage to take air into his lungs. The world ground to a halt as he raged between fury and confusion on how Marcail had been discovered.
Deirdre walked to him. “I was told you gave her shelter in the Pit. Why didn’t you kill her?”
“Why didna you?” The more Deirdre spoke about Marcail the angrier he got. Deirdre wasn’t worthy to speak Marcail’s name.
“I had my reasons,” Deirdre replied. “The Druid is a nuisance, Quinn. I tossed her into the Pit so she would be killed. You should have allowed that to happen.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “And why is that?”
“She probably told you she knows the spell to bind your gods. She lied. She has the spell that will allow your gods to take over completely.”
Quinn shook his head and snorted. “Stop with the lies. Marcail does have the spell to bind our gods. You didna kill her yourself because you fear what will happen to you if you harm her. All those protection spells must be an irritation for one so all-powerful as you.”
“Then you don’t know me at all. I fear nothing.”
“Not true. You fear the magic of Marcail’s grandmother. I’ve seen what can happen to someone who harms Marcail. It’s not something you want to tangle with, Deirdre.”
A single white brow rose on Deirdre’s forehead. “You think you know everything, do you?”
“You’ve killed almost every Druid you’ve ever captured,
Deirdre slowly walked around Quinn until she stood at his back. “Tell me, Quinn, what is your interest in Marcail?”
He knew he had to choose his words carefully. He didn’t want Deirdre to know how deep his feelings went for Marcail, especially since he was still trying to decipher them himself. “I saved her. She’s my responsibility.”
“Hm. I wonder if your feelings go deeper than that. You’ve bedded her, so you must have found something to your liking.”
Quinn faced her. He didn’t want to spoil what had happened between him and Marcail, but he also couldn’t let Deirdre suspect anything.
“It had been a long time since I’d lain with a woman. She was grateful that I saved her and repaid me with the use of her body.”
“You could have had mine,” Deirdre said.
“I’d rather slit my own throat.”
Deirdre suddenly smiled. “Ah, but my dear Quinn, you agreed to bed me in exchange for leaving your brothers alone.”
“I did. I willna go back on my vows.”
“I don’t doubt that you will do your part, but I wonder how long you will try to put me off.”
Quinn clenched his jaw. He hadn’t expected Deirdre to learn of Marcail so quickly. Damn.
“What do you want?” he asked in the most civil voice that he could.
She laughed. “I’ve always enjoyed having this kind of power. It’s exhilarating.”
“What. Do. You. Want?”
“How much is Marcail’s life worth to you?”
Quinn wanted to punch Deirdre in the face, to rip her heart from her body and toss her into a fire. “I doona want anyone else to die.”
“And Marcail? What will you do to ensure I allow her to live?”
