Gifted Thief (Highland Magic #1) (17 page)

I waved an airy hand in the air. ‘Yeah, yeah. You can obtain absolute power over me. I already trust you with my life, Brochan. Lexie and Speck too. The least I can do is trust you with one sodding word.’

‘The Sidhe never reveal their true names. Not even to their families.’

‘They can’t trust each other,’ I said simply.

‘You’re still taking a big risk.’

I smiled. ‘No, I’m not.’

He squeezed my shoulder. ‘Do you know what it means?’

‘My name? No. It has a meaning?’

‘You should brush up on your Gaelic,’ he scolded. ‘It translates as “warrior”.’

I gaped. ‘You’re kidding me.’

He lifted one shoulder in apology.

‘Oh, well,’ I dismissed. ‘I’ve not lived up to Sidhe expectations so far. I’m certainly not going to live up to that name. Not unless it’s an X-Box warrior anyway.’

Brochan turned and gazed back out of the grove. ‘Well, if you’re not going to fight your way back to the castle, how do you suggest we slip out of here unnoticed? The last thing we need are more fireballs being flung your way.’

‘Not to mention it’s better if we’re not seen together,’ I agreed.  ‘Er…’

‘Pssst!’

Both Brochan and I jumped. ‘What the hell was that?’

‘Over here!’

We exchanged glances then peered in the direction of the hushed whisper. As soon as I realised who was speaking, my shoulders relaxed. ‘It’s her,’ I said, thoughtfully. ‘That’s good.’

Brochan watched the old woman as she continued to beckon. ‘Who is she?’

‘Apparently she used to know my parents. She might have insights into Clan Adair.’

‘Can we trust her?’

‘No,’ I said cheerfully. ‘We can’t trust anyone here. She also seems to have a touch of crazy about her. But she might still help us out.’ And with that, I stepped out from under the cover of the grove and joined her.

‘What happened? I saw smoke.’ She shivered. ‘Burny, burny. There were reports of fire…’

‘Everything’s fine. Can you do me a favour? Can you help my friend get to the tower over there?’

She didn’t take her eyes off me but she nodded. ‘There’s only supposed to be one person in the grove at any time. Grove for one and one for grove.’

‘So much for that then,’ I said.

‘I can help you too, Chieftain. We can use the back way. If you go to the fork instead of the spoon and turn right, you’ll be on the servants’ path. No-one will bother you there.’

I frowned. ‘I’m not a chieftain. Thank you for the information about the path though. I’ll use it.’

‘I can come with you if you want,’ she added eagerly.

‘It’ll be better if you stick with Brochan. I don’t want you drawing attention to yourself by being seen with me.’

She looked like she wanted to argue. I placed my hand on her arm in what I hoped was a reassuring manner. ‘I’ll be fine.’

‘Yes, Chieftain.’

I sighed, exasperated. ‘My name is Integrity.’

‘Yes, Chieftain.’

I obviously wasn’t getting anywhere with this. Brochan looked amused. ‘What’s your name?’ I asked her.

‘Lily Macquarrie. Macquarrie Lily.’

Ah. That explained a lot. ‘Pretty name,’ I said aloud.

‘Thank you, Chieftain!’ she beamed.

‘Lily, before you go, could you point out Byron Moncrieffe’s room to me?’

Startled, she jerked her hand up towards the castle. ‘It’s next to the flagged tower. The fourth window down.’

I made a mental note. ‘Excellent.’

‘He’s a good man,’ Lily said, with a hint of anxiety. ‘Not like some of the others.’

He was good at putting on an act, at least. I didn’t want to upset her so I refrained from commenting.

‘We should go now.’ She pointed to her left. ‘We can take that path, sir. We won’t bump into anyone that way.’ She dipped a curtsey, displaying odd-coloured stockings. One was striped black and white while the other was adorned with flowers. The effect was rather kooky and cool.

‘Let’s do it,’ Brochan said. He gave me a meaningful glance. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

‘Call me and I’ll come.’

‘You won’t have any choice,’ he grumbled. ‘Toodle pip.’

As soon as Lily and Brochan vanished from view, I started making my own ascent to the castle. I quickly reached the fork in the path and turned right. As Lily had promised, other than a few scurrying figures, none of whom were Sidhe but all of whom were laden with goods, it was empty. No one stopped me and no one bothered me. They apparently had their own problems to worry about.

Soon I was high enough to see the commotion going on in front of the grove. A large group had assembled there and there appeared to be a lot of hand wringing and shouting. Excellent. The more arguments, the better. It would give me more time to do some real investigating.

I turned my back on the anxious cluster below and jogged up to the castle walls. At least their imposing height would provide me with some cover. While I reckoned the castle’s interior might be quiet enough for me to skulk through the corridors, the tower I was aiming for was hidden from view thanks to the curving edges of the castle walls to the right. I fancied a bit of exercise.

Using Lily’s directions, I skirted round until I was directly below Byron’s room. No doubt he’d still be down with the others at the grove. With any luck, he’d think I was a burnt-out corpse. I’d never get a better chance to sneak into his room than this.

Craning my neck up, I examined the stonework. It helped that the castle was old because there were plenty of footholds. Unfortunately a lot of the stone was worn and weathered; I’d have to be careful to avoid the smoother patches. I grinned at my foresight in bringing my toolkit and sprung up.

Despite my aching body, I was surprisingly fast. It was considerably easier scaling up this sort of surface than glass. I found several cracks wide enough to wedge my fingertips in. Only once was I forced to unclip my old ice-pick and jam it between two bricks to avoid sliding back down. All the same, Byron’s room was higher than our entry point at the bank had been, so I was sweating by the time I hooked my leg over his window ledge and pulled myself in.

I was surprised to see that Byron’s rooms were smaller than mine. They were very clean and tidy but there wasn’t room to swing a cat. Maybe it was some sort of show of humility. If he could be the Steward’s son and not demand the grandest suite in the castle, then other Clans couldn’t complain about him getting preferential treatment. No wonder he’d gone all out at the Astor Hotel. I bet he spent as little time here as possible. Byron probably lived in palatial luxury back on Moncrieffe lands.

Ignoring his lingering scent, I made a beeline for his bed and checked underneath the mattress and the frame. I found a chewed-up pen lid and little else. I stood up again and stepped over to the chair where a pile of folded clothing lay. Carefully examining each item, I discovered nothing interesting. Perhaps Byron was too clever to leave anything incriminating behind. It was annoying, however, that there weren’t even any jewels or money that I could nab. There wasn’t even a crappy safe to crack.

After running through all the items in the bathroom, including checking the shampoo to see if it had a false bottom, I returned to the bedroom and sat on the end of the bed. I could play the seduction game again but I doubted he’d fall for it after walking in on Jamie and me. I wasn’t entirely sure I could stay in control in that kind of situation either. I needed to be sneakier.

I might have failed miserably at hiding out and spying on Byron at the Astor but if he really thought I was dead, he wouldn’t be expecting me here.

I sniffed my armpits. After my climb, I was definitely on the whiffy side. Not wanting my own smell to give me away, I grabbed his bottle of (surprisingly cheap) aftershave and daubed myself with it. I rather liked it. Maybe I’d keep it. Without thinking, I stuffed the bottle into one of my pockets. Then I smoothed down the sheets to remove all traces of my presence and scooted under the bed. I rather hoped he’d take his time returning. I could do with a little nap.

I was dozing off when the door slammed open. I just managed to stop myself from banging my head painfully as I jerked up. Close call.

‘Fuck!’ There was another bang. It was definitely Byron. He thumped something else. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’

Was he upset because he’d realised there wasn’t a body – charred or otherwise – inside the grove and I’d escaped? Or was he upset because he thought I was dead and he now had no way of restoring the Foinse?

I watched his feet stomp about, up one way and down another, over and over again. Considering the size of the room, I thought he’d get dizzy after a few turns but he just kept stomping and turning.

Eventually – and scant seconds before I thought I was going to go insane from watching his feet – there was a hesitant knock on the door. Byron flung it open with such force that it banged against the wall. If the castle hadn’t been made of stone, the ensuing vibrations would have been felt floors below.

‘What?’ he snapped.

I twisted my head, peering at the new set of shoes which had appeared. I was still trying to work out who they belonged to when the nervous cough enlightened me.

‘The Steward asked me to inform you…’

‘Of what?’ There was a strained urgency to Byron’s voice.

Jamie dropped the formality. I was glad. Regardless of what else was going on here, it didn’t seem fair for him to lose one of his friends just because of a quick shag based on post-traumatic desire. ‘Byron,’ he said, ‘she’s not there. Integrity’s not in the grove.’

Shite. I needed to see the expression on Byron’s face to be able tell whether he was pleased at this news or not.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally spoke. ‘You’re sure?’

‘Yes. She must have got out another way. She’s not in her room – we’ve already checked. I mean,’ Jamie backtracked, ‘Brody checked. Not me. I didn’t go inside. I…’

‘It’s fine, Jamie. But if she’s not in her room then where the fuck is she? Whoever did this might have hold of her. I should have taken that story about the worm more seriously.’ He thumped something again as overwhelming, unmitigated relief flooded through me. It hadn’t been him after all. ‘Fuck! I told her!’

‘Uh, told her what?’

He groaned. ‘That my second gift is pyrokinesis. No wonder she’s run.’

‘I’m sure she wouldn’t think that you had done all that though.’

Oh, you’d be surprised, Jamie.

Byron sighed. ‘Why would she trust me? I blackmailed her into coming here. I escorted her to the grove where someone threw fire at her. What if she’s hurt? If she’s hiding somewhere we might not find her in time.’ His voice was growing in both sound and desperation. That was nice. I could feel myself relaxing.

‘The Foinse isn’t dead yet,’ Jamie answered, obviously doing his best to be reassuring. ‘It could be months before all the magic leaks out. We’ll find her in time.’

I rolled my eyes. Of course. It wasn’t my life that was important; it was making sure the Foinse survived another thousand years that was the issue. I didn’t know why that stung. I didn’t want the magic to fail or gazillions of people to die. Even if someone else apparently did.

‘We’d better,’ came the growly rejoinder. I shivered. I was glad that Byron wasn’t the evil mastermind I’d suspected but I was still disturbed that he had such an effect on me. A husky rasp like that made me think of our encounter in his hotel room, with him underneath my legs, pinned so that I could… I mentally slapped myself. Enough of that.

Jamie coughed. ‘There is something else.’

Silence stretched out. I didn’t think it was possible for the nervous tension to ratchet up any further but I was wrong; I could virtually feel the air crackle. I was half tempted to leap out and grab Jamie by his lapels, shove my nails into his cute little dimples and demand that he get on with it.

‘Go on,’ Byron said grimly.

Yes, Jamie, get on with it.

‘The police were forced to let her two partners in crime go.’

Byron hissed. ‘We knew that was going to happen sooner or later.’

‘Not this soon, though. I still have evidence of that last job they pulled. I could make an anonymous tip.’

I seethed. So much for our night of passion, Jamie. Or hour of passion. Okay, ten minutes of passion. Brochan, Speck and Lexie might be safely tucked away around the corner but they’d want to return to their own world sooner or later. If Byron made that an impossibility, I’d ruin him – whether he was concerned about my wellbeing or not.

‘No,’ Byron answered. ‘We’ve gone past that point now. It was a means to an end. But how did they get out so quickly? I thought we’d have a couple of days at least.’

Jamie coughed again. Uh oh. Here we go. ‘There was a barrister. He petitioned the courts.’

‘Where did the money come from to pay him?’ Jamie didn’t answer. I heard a heavy sigh. ‘Let me guess,’ Byron said tiredly. ‘The Lia Saifire.’

‘It was sold for a considerable amount to a warlock over in Fort William.’

There was another loud thump. ‘Fucking hell.’

I frowned. He was taking the loss very badly. Did the sapphire have powers that I’d not been aware of? But why use it as bait if it were so precious? Surely the Moncrieffe Clan could have rustled up some non-magical gems to use. Something wasn’t adding up.

‘Does my father know?’

‘Not yet,’ Jamie said.

Byron sighed. ‘Come on then. You can watch me be the bearer of yet more bad tidings.’

I stayed where I was until I was certain both of them had left the room. Then I scooted out from underneath the bed. Well, well, well. Byron had been correct: – all was most definitely not as it seemed.

*

I slid out of the room, taking extra care in case anyone spotted me. I didn’t want to be caught sidling out of Byron’s rooms. Thus far, the lower class Sidhe and the servants had appeared to be on my side, but that didn’t mean I was going to take unnecessary risks.

I stayed as low as possible until I was well away from Byron’s wing of the castle. As I walked, I pinched my cheeks; hopefully I could make them red enough to give the illusion of an oncoming fever. The moment I emerged out onto a busier corridor, I straightened my back, allowed my features to form into a hard mask and marched towards the round-tabled room where I’d encountered Aifric and the rest of the Sidhe royal wankers.

Several people gaped at me along the way. I glared at them, satisfied when most of them scuttled away. When I reached the room, I slammed open the door and glowered. The light from behind me was strong, silhouetting my form. Aifric, Byron and Jamie were there and they had to shade their eyes to work out it was me. I rather liked that effect. I’d have to time grand entrances like this more often.

‘What gives?’ I snarled. ‘I thought the grove was supposed to be sacred. Now you’re all trying to kill me instead. I’ve got a banging headache, I don’t feel well and I’m in a really shitty mood. Where did those fireballs come from?’

Aifric recovered his voice first although I noted that both Byron and Jamie looked relieved. Yeah, yeah. I was still around to save all their sorry arses. Hurray.

‘I’m glad you’re alright, Ms Taylor.’

It was a shame he didn’t address me as chieftain; that would have been even more fun. ‘No thanks to any of you. Who is doing this? Who’s trying to murder me? That’s two attacks in less than twenty-four hours!’

Aifric’s expression was grim. ‘I can assure you that we’re working on it.’

‘Working on it? You’re going to have to try a damn sight harder than that. Who has more than one Gift around here? Pyrokinesis and summoning? Who can do both?’

Aifric exchanged a look with his son. ‘No one that we know of. We have our best people working through the magical register though. We will find them.’

I tilted up my chin. ‘You’d better hope it’s before I end up getting fried. Where will you all be then?’

‘We will put a guard on your rooms.’

‘No, you sodding won’t. How can I trust your guards? They might be in on the plot.’

He stiffened. ‘Our people are loyal.’

‘When someone stops trying to murder me, I might believe that.’ I swept an imperious gaze across the lot of them. ‘I don’t feel well,’ I declared. ‘I’m going to lie down. Give me back my letter opener.’

Jamie and Aifric both gave me strange looks but Byron dug into his pocket and handed it over. I felt considerably more secure with Bob back with me. As soon as I’d tucked the knife away, I held a hand to my forehead and frowned.

‘You have a fever.’ Byron’s voice was quiet.

Yes, Golden Boy. I have a very bad fever. Spread that little titbit around so everyone thinks I’m about to receive some terrible Gift that’ll put yours to shame.

‘It better not last long,’ I grumbled aloud. ‘The faster we can start travelling to the Foinse, the faster I can escape this hell hole.’

‘I’ll have some chicken soup sent up to your room. That usually helps.’

My eyes narrowed in disgust. ‘I thought you guys had been keeping an eye on me. Don’t you know I’m vegetarian?’ I had no idea where that came from. I loved bacon. I must have been trying to goad poor Aifric Moncrieffe into more grovelling.

‘I’m sure we can arrange something that will suit your tastes,’ he said without a trace of a grovel. Oh well.