Veiled Threat (17 page)

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Authors: Helen Harper

BOOK: Veiled Threat
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I held up a palm. ‘Unless you know something I don’t, our murderous Steward is back at the Cruaich.’ Now it was my turn to glance behind. There was no sign of Byron. I couldn’t believe that he would try to hurt me, not after everything that had happened between us, but regardless of logic my heart was still hammering against my ribcage. ‘Let’s slow down and take things from the beginning.’

Kirk swallowed. ‘Byron Moncrieffe is going to give you a sleeping draught. It’ll knock you out for a day. Lyle is supposed to watch over you while Byron and I travel through the Veil to retrieve the body of Matthew MacBain.’

The worry I felt hardened into instant, vicious anger. That wanker. That total wanker. He really did want to play the damned hero after all.  I shook my head in disgust. Screw pacifism. I’d rip his sodding head off.  Aifric was one thing but Byron and I had been starting to reach the point of no return in our relationship. We didn’t trust each other but we weren’t enemies. Far from it. The thought that he would do this stabbed into me. No doubt this was what his enigmatic comment about his father’s supposed good intentions had been referring to. I struggled for control.  He’d said I was manipulative but his father was a goddamned genius at it. And now he was too. How could he do this to me? How could...? My mind swirled. I struggled to reach for the shreds of my own rationality. It didn’t make sense. I reminded myself to breathe. No. He wouldn’t do this. He wasn’t a bastard.

‘Wait,’ I said slowly. ‘Byron’s never struck me as a glory hunter and he’s going beyond the Veil anyway, so he can play the hero whether I’m there or not. I suppose the Moncrieffes could be trying to ingratiate themselves with the MacBain Clan but they’re already on good terms. So why would he do that to me?’

‘The Lowlands are dangerous. He wants to keep you safe.’

I tried to ignore the sudden warmth in my chest. ‘That’s silly. I’ve been there before, I know what to expect and where Matthew MacBain is. I’m not some delicate maiden and he knows that. He also doesn’t have a clue about where Matthew MacBain’s remains are.’ I mulled it all over. ‘Aifric gave him the draught, right?’

Lyle and Kirk nodded.

‘Did he say anything about it to you? Or did all your orders come from the Steward?’

Kirk picked at a wart on his cheek. ‘We picked up the Scrymgeour woman just after we left the Cruaich. He wouldn’t say anything in front of her.’

Absence of evidence wasn’t evidence itself.  All the same... I forced myself to calm down. ‘Well, we can pretty much guarantee that it’s going to do more damage than send me into dream land. Poison is Aifric’s weapon of choice.’

Even surrounded by darkness as we were, I could still see Sorley growing redder and redder. ‘We force it down Byron’s throat instead. Then he’ll get what’s coming to him.’

‘I doubt he even knows.’ I swallowed. ‘I hope he doesn’t know.’ I glanced at Kirk and Lyle. ‘You work for the Moncrieffes. Why are you telling me this?’

They exchanged looks, turned to face me and got down on their knees. I took a step backward. ‘Wait,’ I said. I’d been in this situation before; I didn’t need more people on my conscience. It was just more to worry about.

Kirk was not going to stop. ‘Chieftain Adair, we pledge fealty to you and your Clan. The honour you have shown us this night proves that you are more than worthy.’

Sorley got to his knees and joined them, clasping his squat fingers together and staring at me beseechingly. I addressed him. ‘You said the trolls didn’t swear fealty to anyone.’

‘We didn’t,’ he answered simply. ‘Now we do. We are yours, if you’ll have us.’

‘I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m making all this up as I go along.’

Sorley smiled faintly, causing huge wrinkled lines to form across his cheeks. ‘Chieftain Adair, will you have us?’

‘Get up, you gobshite.’ I sighed. ‘Yes, I’ll have you. This is going to be the strangest Clan that Scotland has ever seen. A Sidhe, a merman, a pixie, a warlock, a human and three trolls. Good grief.’

Kirk and Lyle both started but Sorley shook his head at them.

‘What?’ I asked.

‘Nothing,’ he said innocently. ‘Now, what are we going to do about Byron Moncrieffe?’

***

T
wo hours later the fire was going and, much to Tipsania’s disgust, Taylor had managed to produce some more tins of beans. Sorley, Lyle and Kirk had wanted to stick around but I persuaded them to stay down by the border. Despite their oaths, I wasn’t sure I could trust them to not bop Byron on the head and slice off his ears. With everyone clued up, there were more than enough eyes to make sure that Byron didn’t spike my food or drink while I wasn’t looking. All the same, I was wary of his telekinesis Gift. He’d managed to switch drinks on me once before, so I still had to be careful. For his part, he didn’t act any differently to usual. Neither did Tipsania.

‘There is a huge dining room in there,’ she said, jerking her head towards the mansion. ‘Why aren’t we eating inside?’

I smirked. ‘There are cobwebs.’ I gestured to the door. ‘You’re welcome to go in if you wish.’

It was obviously a struggle for her not to snark out a reply. She managed it though. Barely.

Bob yawned loudly. ‘It’s so boring here. There are no nightclubs. There are no pubs.’ He pouted. ‘I need some excitement in my life.’

Brochan sneezed three times in quick succession. ‘Go back to your letter opener then. We don’t need you.’ He wiped his nose. ‘In fact, we’ll be better off if you keep away.’

‘Brochy baby, don’t be like that. Besides, you know very well it’s a scimitar, not a letter opener. And I can’t go back there yet. Daniel Jackson just died in
Stargate
. It’s too emotional for me to return to the scene of the crime.’

‘It’s a television show! There is no scene of the crime!’

Bob shook his head sadly. ‘You don’t get it. You have no soul, Brochy. I can help you with that. Get Uh Integrity to wish you one.’

‘Let me strangle him, Tegs,’ Brochan appealed. ‘Or at the very least tie him up.’

Bob instantly brightened. ‘Now that sounds fun! A bit of BDSM is right up my alley.’

‘You’re disgusting.’

The genie tutted. ‘It’s perfectly normal.’ He snapped his fingers and produced a length of rope. I was pleased to note that it was dyed hot pink. Atta boy. ‘Uh Integrity, you’d like to be tied up, wouldn’t you?’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Bob, once upon a time, I was a master thief. I can pick locks, break into vaults and I can certainly get myself out of any knot that you could tie.’

He puffed out his chest. ‘That sounds like a challenge.’

Tipsania was goggling at us like we were a bunch of maniacs. Byron, however, regarded me with interest and I raised an eyebrow in his direction. Did that kind of sex game float his boat? ‘Okay then, Bob. Give it a try.’ I held out my hands. ‘Tie me up and I promise you that I will free myself in three minutes.’

‘Done!’ he yelled. ‘But I’ll have you know that I used to grant wishes for Houdini.’ He crossed his fingers and held them up. ‘We were like this.’

‘Didn’t he die in a failed escape attempt?’ I enquired. ‘Was that because of one of your wishes?’

Bob looked affronted. ‘No, he died because of peritonitis. He’d wished to feel no pain, so he didn’t feel it when his appendix ruptured and didn’t seek help in time.’

Speck edged away from him and collided with Lexie. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled.

‘I like it when you get close, Specky,’ she purred. He turned bright red.

‘Come on then, Bob,’ I said, drawing away attention from the embarrassed warlock. ‘Get on with it.’

Bob flitted over and winked, then made an elaborate show of looping the rope and circling it round his head. He flung it towards me, whistling to himself as he knotted it this way and that, tugging at various points and frowning. He seemed to take an age.

‘You know,’ I said drily, ‘if it takes longer to tie the damn thing than it does for me to get out of it, I’m not sure that it’s entirely fair.’

‘I’m done. Sheesh! Hold your horses, girl!’ He flew backwards and admired his handiwork before holding up his hand for a high-five. Unfortunately no one obliged.

Taylor leaned across the fire. ‘Byron, twenty quid says she gets out within sixty seconds.’

‘No! Don’t you dare!’

‘Oh come on, Tegs. It’s not a serious bet. It’s just for fun.’

‘I mean it, Taylor.’ I glared at Byron to make sure he understood how much trouble he’d be in if he took the bet.

‘Hey! I’ve not said a word? Why am I the bad guy?’ he protested.

Why indeed, I thought sardonically. ‘Just a warning,’ I said aloud.

Bob sniffed. ‘You do realise, you’ve already had forty seconds?’

‘What? That’s not fair! Come on, Bob, I’ve not started yet!’

He shrugged. Exasperated, I turned away and began to extricate myself. It didn’t take long. In barely three breaths I faced them, dangling the length of rope in my hand. ‘Piece. Of. Cake.’

Bob stared at me. ‘You cheated.’

‘Nope.’

‘You did! You cheated. Was it one of those Gifts of yours?’

‘No magic involved.’ The corner of my mouth curled up. ‘Frankly, your rope work is so poor that I imagine even a toddler could break free within seconds.’

‘I want a re-match!’ Bob demanded.

‘I’ve already won.’

‘Best of three?’

‘No. Give it up, Bob. You’re a sore loser.’

His bottom lip jutted out. ‘I’m very good at rope work, it’s just that you’re either incredibly lucky or some kind of prodigy. Speck! Let me try it on you! I bet you won’t be able to get free so easily.’

Speck pushed his glasses up his nose. ‘No, thank you. Hemp brings me out in hives.’

Bob turned to Brochan. ‘No,’ said the merman. ‘Don’t even think about it.’

‘You guys are shite,’ the genie whined. ‘You’re dull and boring and—’

‘Shite?’

‘Yes!’

Byron stood up. ‘I feel sorry for the wee man. Go on. You can try it on me, Bob. Tie me up.’

I felt a flurry of excitement. ‘You don’t have to do this.’

He shrugged. ‘Where’s the harm?’

‘At least someone around here is vaguely interesting,’ Bob said, zapping over to Byron before he could change his mind. He grinned as he looped round his hands and between his wrists, taking the rope with him. ‘Is that too tight for you?’

Byron wiggled his fingers. ‘Nope.’

‘Damn.’ The genie seemed disappointed. ‘Do you mind if I tie your ankles too? I did such a bad job with Uh Integrity that I need to save face.’

For a moment, I thought Byron would refuse. Apparently Bob did too, because he didn’t wait for a response but flew down to the ground, magicked up another rope and started tying Byron’s feet. ‘Okay!’ he sang out. ‘Your time starts now.’

I scowled. ‘Why does he get a warning about the start time and I don’t?’

‘Quit complaining, sweet cheeks.’

We fell silent and watched Byron as he twisted one way and writhed another, straining against Bob’s bonds. His face was taut with exertion but it wasn’t long before it was clear that he couldn’t free himself. He yanked at his hands and tried to wriggle out of the knots at his feet. When that didn’t work he paused, and I could sense him trying to use his telekinesis Gift. Frustration clouded his eyes before he eventually shrugged and winked, as if to show he was a good sport. ‘I guess I’m just not as skilled as Integrity,’ he said. ‘I give in. You win, Bob.’

Bob eyed him suspiciously. ‘You’re not just trying to be nice to me, are you? Pretending that you can’t free yourself to massage my ego? Because I have other body parts that you can massage instead—’

‘No,’ Byron interrupted. ‘You’ve got me. I’m well and truly stuck.’

I raised my eyebrows at Taylor. He nodded and loped over, checked the knots and gave me a thumbs up. I smiled. Lexie reached over and tossed me Byron’s bag. I glanced inside, rummaging around while his expression grew darker and darker.

‘Undo the ropes, Bob,’ Byron said.

‘Can’t do that, golden boy.’

Byron look from the genie to the others and then to me. Lexie couldn’t keep the smirk off her face. Tipsania got to her feet. ‘I’ll do it.’ She turned to Byron and began to fumble. For a moment I felt worried but Bob grinned and gave me a minute shake of his head.

‘They won’t budge,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘You used magic.’

Bob bowed dramatically. ‘I’m a genie. Magic is my raisin debtor.’

‘Your what?’

‘Raisin debtor,’ he repeated patiently.

‘Bob,’ I said, ‘it’s
raison d’être
. It’s French.’

He stared at me for a second. ‘I know that! I’m a magnificent being!’ He turned and glared at Taylor and I instantly understood what had happened. No doubt my old mentor had been playing around with Bob and telling him porkies. I sighed inwardly. There had probably been money involved.

Bob sniffed. ‘I was just testing you. Although,’ he mumbled, ‘I did wonder what raisins had to do with it.’

My fingers curled round an object at the bottom of the bag and sickness lurched through me. I didn’t think the trolls had been lying but physical confirmation of the ‘sleeping draught’ was not what I’d wanted to find. I pulled it out – a tiny silver vial with veins of red running through it - and held it up towards Byron.

‘Do you want to explain what this is?’ I asked softly.

Byron glared at me. ‘I’m certain you already know.’

I nodded to myself and dug out my phone, searching through the photos. When I found what I was looking for, I got to my feet and walked over, holding it up to his face. ‘Remember this?’ I asked. ‘This was the group shot of us before we found the Foinse. Can you see what your father is holding there?’

Byron’s eyes continued to flash cold rage.

‘Come on,
babe
,’ I urged. ‘Surely, you can see it’s your wonderful daddy holding a little vial identical to this one.  Not long after this shot was taken, Lily MacQuarrie dropped dead from poisoned water. Poisoned water intended for me.’

‘The photo doesn’t mean anything because that is not poison,’ he said angrily. ‘The trolls. Lyle and Kirk. They gave me up?’

‘They did.’

He tried to get to his feet and failed. Muttering a curse, he exhaled instead. ‘Are we really going to do this here? In front of an audience?’

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