“You’re a quick one, and clever enough.” As in the dreams, his voice was like cold hands gliding over the skin. And still, somehow seductive. “But young, in years and in power.”
“Old enough in both.”
He smiled at her. Something in her spirit repelled even as something in her body stirred.
“I could kill you with a look.”
“Not so far.”
“Your death isn’t my wish, Iona the Bright. Only give me what has come so late to you, what is still so young, so fresh in you.” Dark, dark eyes holding hers, he edged closer as he spoke in that silky voice. “I want only the power you don’t yet understand, and I’ll spare you. I’ll spare all of you.”
Her heart pounded, too hard, too fast. But her power stirred, in the belly, and would rise. She would make it rise.
“Is that all? Really? Ah . . . no.” She heard the cry of the hawk overhead, and now she smiled. “Company’s coming.”
“You’ll be the death of them. Their blood will stain your hands. Look. See. Know.”
She glanced down at her hands, at the blood staining them, dripping from them to pool on the ground. The sight of it, the warmth of it, sliced true fear through her belly, through her heart.
When she looked up Cabhan was gone. And Boyle rode like a madman on Alastar up the dirt path.
“I’m fine,” she called out, but her voice sounded tinny, and her knees wanted to buckle. “Everything’s fine.”
The hound streaked to her side as Boyle leapt from Alastar’s back. “What happened?”
When he started to grab her hands, she instinctively pulled them back. Then saw, both shocked and relieved, they were clean.
“He was here, but he’s gone.” She leaned against the horse, as much to soothe him as for his support. The hawk landed as lightly, as neatly on Alastar’s saddle as he might on a tree branch. And Kathel sat quiet at her side.
All of them here, she thought. Horse, hawk, hound.
And Boyle.
“How are you here?”
“I’d just saddled Alastar to ride him over when he let out a bloody war cry and bolted for the fence. I barely had time to jump on his back before we went over it. Let me look at you.” He grabbed her, spun her around. “You’re not hurt? You’re sure of it?”
“No. I mean yes, I’m sure. Alastar heard me.” She laid a hand on the horse’s neck. “They all heard me,” she murmured as the hawk watched her, as Kathel’s tail gave one quick thump. And her cousins pulled up in Connor’s truck, spewing dirt and gravel with the slam of brakes.
“They . . .” She paused as Fin’s truck, then Meara’s sped into the stable yard. “They all heard me. He couldn’t stop that. It couldn’t stop that from getting through.”
“What the bloody, buggering hell happened?” Boyle demanded.
“I’ll tell you. All of you,” she said, speaking to the group. “But we need to check the horses. He didn’t hurt them. I’d know if he did. But they’re afraid.”
She brought Alastar with her, felt the need to keep him close as she went back inside.
They would purify the ring, she thought. Branna would see to it.
She soothed the horses, one by one, and so doing soothed herself. By the time the stable hands arrived to see to the morning routine, she huddled with the rest, crowded in Boyle’s little office, and told the tale.
“There’s a sexuality, on the most elemental level,” she added. “He uses it like a weapon. It’s powerful, and it pulls. But more, he was stronger this time. Maybe he’s been storing it up somehow. I don’t know the answer, but I know when he hit the shield, it cracked. It wouldn’t hold him back.”
“So you removed it, took him straight out the doors. Clever,” Fin told her.
“That’s what he said. Right before he promised to spare all our lives if I gave him my power.”
“He’s a liar,” Branna reminded her.
“I know it. I know. But the blood on my hands.” Fighting a fresh shudder, she pressed her palms together. “It felt real, and it felt like yours. He knows I’m still the weak spot.”
“He’s wrong, and so are you if you believe it.” With the lack of space, Boyle couldn’t pace off the anger, so he just balled his fists into his pockets. “There’s nothing weak in you.”
“He wanted to scare me, and tempt me. He managed both.”
“And what did you do about it?”
She nodded. “I like to think I would have, could have kept doing it if all of you hadn’t come so quickly. But the point is I’m still his focus. Take what’s mine, and he believes he can take the rest.”
“So we’ll use that. We will,” Fin said before Boyle could object. “The slightest adjustment to the plan, and he’ll see her as vulnerable, see it as the time and place to close in, and have it done.”
“It’s more complicated,” Branna began.
“And since when have a few complications buggered you up?”
“More dangerous,” Connor added.
“If we’re in it, we’re in it.” Meara shrugged. “Today proves Iona can’t even come to work in the morning without a risk. Why should she live that way? Or any of us?”
“The next time he might hurt the horses,” Iona added. “To damage me, to distract me. I won’t have that. I couldn’t live with that. What adjustments?”
“He thinks you’ll go alone tomorrow, to the ruins.”
Iona stared at Boyle, saw the fury behind his eyes. “I’m bait. But bait with knowledge and power. And a very strong circle.”
Before Boyle could curse, Branna laid a hand on his arm. “She’s never alone, never will be. You’ve my word, and the word of all of us here.”
She gave his arm a rub, then considered. “It could be done. I think it could be done well enough.”
“You’ll work with me on just that today then?”
Branna looked at Fin, fought her nasty internal war. “I will, for Iona. For the circle.”
“We’ll get started. Keep in the company of others,” Fin added, tracing a finger over Iona’s cheek. “For the day, keep others close, will you, little sister?”
“No problem.”
It was easy enough, especially since Boyle or Meara hovered.
Boyle took her off guided rides for the day—a frustration to her—and stuck her on stable duties.
She groomed, fed, cleaned stalls, repaired tack, polished boots.
And the day dragged.
She rode Alastar to the big stables—Boyle on Spud beside her—to deal with the lesson she had scheduled for the end of the day.
This time tomorrow, she thought, she’d make the final preparations. And she’d take the next steps toward her destiny.
“We’re going to win this,” she said to Boyle.
“Cocksure’s a foolish thing.”
“It’s not cocksure, or not cocky.” She remembered Connor’s words, and her feeling with him, in the morning kitchen. “It’s faith, and faith’s a strong, positive thing.”
“I don’t care for you being the tip of the spear in this.”
“I sure didn’t plan to be, but because I am, he’s the one who’ll be cocksure and foolish. Think about that.”
“I’ve been thinking of it, and considerable else.”
At the stables he dismounted, waited for her to do the same. “I’ve something to show you.”
He started into the stables. Before one of the hands could speak, Boyle signaled him away, jerked a thumb and sent him out. Then led the way to the tack room with its scent of leather and oil.
“It’s that.”
She followed the gesture, hummed in pleasure at the gleam of the saddle sitting on its stand.
“That’s new, isn’t it?” She stepped to it, ran a hand over the curve, over the smooth black leather. “Beautifully made, and just look at the stirrups shine! It’s hand-tooled, isn’t it? It’s—”
“It’s yours.”
“What? Mine?”
“It’s made for you, specifically, and for Alastar. For the pair of you.”
“But—”
“Well, I didn’t know, did I, the others would be after buying the car for you, and this was meant for your birthday.”
If he’d offered her a pirate’s chest of gold and jewels she’d have been less stunned. “You . . . You had this made for me, for my birthday?”
His brows drew together, just short of a glower. “A horsewoman of your caliber should have her own saddle, and a fine one.”
When she said nothing, he lifted the saddle, turned it over. “See, it’s your name there.”
Gently, she brushed her fingers over her name. Just Iona, she thought. Just her first name, and a symbol of flames beside it—Alastar’s name, and a trinity knot, across from it.
“I know a man who does the work,” Boyle continued, flustered when the silence dragged out. “The leather work, and the . . . ah, well, it seemed fitting to me.”
“It’s beautiful. It’s the most beautiful gift.”
“You’d sold your own.”
“That’s right.” She looked at him then, just looked. “To come here.”
“So . . . sure now you have another. And if we’re to do this tomorrow, you should have it. You and Alastar should use it.” He started to turn it over again, secure it. Iona put a hand over his.
“It’s much more than another saddle. Much more to me.” She rose on her toes, brushed her lips over one of his cheeks, the other, then lightly over his lips. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, of course, and happy birthday again. I’ve things to see to now. Fin’ll be keeping an eye out, as he let me know he and Branna are done for today.”
“All right. Thank you, Boyle.”
“As you’ve said.”
She let him go. She had a lesson to prepare for. And decisions to make.
* * *
SHE WALKED OVER TO FIN WHEN HER STUDENT LEFT. Gave a short sigh. “I didn’t give her my best today.”
“I wager she’d disagree. And if you’re a bit distracted today, there’s cause enough.”
“I guess.” She glanced toward the rooms over the garage. “And you and Branna?”
“Did what we set out to do, with little drama. That’s a blessing in itself. I’ll take you back to the stables if you’re wanting your car, then follow you home to be safe and sure.”
“Oh, thanks, but . . . I want to— I need to . . . I have to talk to Boyle. About something. He can take me home, I think.”
“All right then.” With an easy smile rather than the laugh in his heart, Fin took Alastar’s reins. “I’ll just see to our boy here.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I’ll enjoy it. And I’ll say he and I have things to discuss as well.”