“He had two blades,” Keenan said (16 page)

“Have I suddenly grown horns or a wart?”

“Nay,” Brodick said. “It’s just,” he hesitated, “ye could really read my thoughts about my nephew and sister?”

She nodded. His words held no judgment, just curiosity. She had traveled for six days with these men as almost constant companions and spent two more days cooped up in the inn with them. And this was the closest they had ever approached her, physically and personally.

“Yes, I could, because I opened myself up to your thoughts. But I don’t do that normally,” she added quickly. “It is rude to eavesdrop in normal circumstances.”

“So ye doona ken what I’m thinking right now?” Gavin asked stepping a bit closer and staring into her eyes, his own eyes buggy like a toad.

“I can tell you are thinking something quite loudly, but unless I open the door to your words, I don’t hear them clearly.”

“What about that Campbell?”

“I felt pain coming from him and darkness, so I opened myself up to his thoughts because I sensed danger.”

Brodick stepped to the edge of the bed. His leg leaned along her dress. “But what if I touch yer skin, can ye block that?” He pointed to her gloves in her lap. “Ye wear those all the time.”

Serena nodded. “They protect me when I accidentally touch someone. It’s hard to shield myself when I touch someone skin to skin. And scars are even worse.”

“Have ye touched Keenan’s scar?” Gavin asked. He too, leaned in.

“I touched his scar the first time we met because I couldn’t read anything about him. I’d never met anyone like that before. Even when I try to read his thoughts and emotions, I can’t sense anything. Even his scar remains silent.”

Brodick unlaced the ties at his throat and pulled down his shirt partway revealing the puckered line of a scar. “Ye could read this.”

“But I don’t want to,” she said quickly. “I don’t want to see the slaughter that you survived.”

Gavin punched his arm and Brodick retied the collar. “It wasn’t much of anything,” guilt laced his words.

Silence fell over them and she began to worry about Keenan. Serena took a deep breath and tried to think of something other than what was going on in the ballroom.

“Let’s play a game,” she said cheerfully.

The two men looked wary. “What type of game, lass?” Gavin asked.

“Gavin, you think of something,” she held up her hand, “nothing bad and no,” she cleared her throat, “no intimate thoughts please. And I’ll tell you what I see.” She smiled. “Make it hard, something I couldn’t possibly know.”

Gavin smiled hesitantly. Brodick waved him away from her and whispered in his ear. His smile grew. He walked back over to her. “Here’s something that only Brodick and I ken, none other could have told ye.”

Gavin put out his hand, palm up. Serena cupped his hand in hers. Whatever it was he was slightly embarrassed about it. Serena focused a strand of power into Gavin’s rough skin, up under the fur covering his arm, along the muscles, tendons, and vessels running up the back of his neck and into the very core of his brain. All this she covered in the space of two heart beats without even contemplating how. It was as natural to her as breathing.

And there it was, hidden amongst the questions and slight fear about her abilities. Serena could almost taste the tang of the berries, the flakiness of the crust, just the right amount of spices swirling together into one glorious bite, a bite made even better by the danger. Her mouth began to water and she swallowed. Her stomach growled audibly through the room. Gavin and Brodick looked at one another and then back at Serena.

“Excuse me,” she apologized, “but I’m near to starving for Nelly’s wild strawberry pie.”

Gavin pulled his hand back.

Serena tsked. “Really you two, stealing the poor lady’s pie right off her window sill.”

Brodick smiled and rubbed his stomach. “It’s been nearly a score of years, but I can still taste it.”

“Made better by the thrill,” she said trying to frown despite the quivering corners of her mouth.

“We were but boys,” Gavin defended.

Serena just shook her head. They looked between each other in silence, their grins growing until all three erupted in laughter.

Gavin hushed them and pointed toward the door. “Unseen ears may start rumors about our mirth.” Serena put her hand over her mouth. Brodick nodded but his deep chuckle still punctuated the sudden stillness.

“Brodick, stuff something in that hole of yers,” Gavin said.

“If we only had pie!” Serena said and fell back on the bed in a fit of giggles as Brodick guffawed loudly. She felt so light, so at ease with these two men. She shifted back up on her elbows. Gavin grinned at her and shook his head.

“My turn,” Brodick said and grabbed Serena’s bare hand to pull her back into a sitting position. As his fingers wrapped around hers, Serena felt his mirth and acceptance wash through her. Her eyes blinked shut as tears welled. She took a long even breath, savoring the feel, the feel of a friend, or at least the beginning of one.

Brodick dropped her hand. “I am so sorry, lass. I dinna think. I just grabbed yer hand and…”

Serena held up her hand to stop him and opened her eyes. Both Gavin and Brodick peered at her worried. She smiled. “Thank you, Brodick.” He frowned and looked at Gavin. Gavin shrugged.

“Are ye having a spell again, lass?” Gavin whispered and moved his face just inches from her. “Did Brodick think something evil into ye?”

“I dinna do any such thing!” Brodick defended.

Serena laughed and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The weight of her exhaustion had melted away with Brodick’s touch. “Nay lass, ye should stay in bed,” Gavin urged.

“I’m fine, Gavin, even better now that I know,” and she looked at Brodick, “that Brodick actually likes me.”

Gavin’s eyes narrowed and he turned to Brodick. “Ye like her? What’s that mean?”

Brodick’s astonished face turned red to match the flames dancing in the hearth. He opened his mouth to protest but couldn’t seem to find the words. Serena patted the stunned man’s arm.

“I mean, that when Brodick grabbed my hand without thinking first about my powers,” she looked at Brodick, “it meant that you trusted me.” She shook her head, her smile fading slightly like brightly colored curtains left too long in the path of the sun. “I’ve never had someone just touch me without fearing me in some way, except for my duy and William.”

The two men looked at her. Brodick spoke first. “Ye mean ye’ve never had a friend?” Serena shook her head and walked over to the fire.

“My tribe has always seen me as strange. I’m pretty certain they’re glad I’m gone.” She kept the self-pity out of her voice. Serena despised self-pity in others. It was so useless, did nothing to alter their circumstances. She turned away, embarrassed.

She heard them walking over to her. Hands on her arms turned her around into a bear-like embrace. She knew it was Brodick even before she looked up. “Well I’m yer friend, lass. Ye’ve already saved Lachlan and Keenan from the Campbell, and ye’ve already saved us here in England. Of course I trust ye.”

Not to be out done, Gavin’s large hands on her shoulders pulled Serena around and into his chest. “Touch my skin and tell for yerself, Serena. I’m yer friend too.” His hug was awkward but Serena felt his sincerity. She laughed into his barrel chest. “What, ye doona believe me?” Gavin said. “I’m telling ye, Serena, touch me.”

“Touch ye! What in bloody hell is going on in here!” Keenan’s voice was punctuated by the door ricocheting off the wall. It cut through the pleasant waves of trust coming from the two Maclean warriors. Gavin dropped his arms and jumped back from Serena, which nearly knocked her down with the sudden absence of physical support. “What the hell are ye asking her to do?” Keenan stopped and moved his hand about, “I ordered ye to guard her, not touch her!” Keenan picked her up, strode past an open mouthed Thomas who stood in the doorway. Keenan lowered her back into the bed. Both men began defending themselves, each other, and Serena all at once.

“All is well, Keenan,” she said cutting through the noise. “Gavin just wanted to show me that he trusts me now. He knows I would feel his sincerity if I touched his hand.”

“His hand, huh,” Keenan grumbled and frowned at the two furiously nodding warriors. Serena almost laughed for they looked like two innocent boys swearing they weren’t stealing a pie from the window sill.

“While the two of ye were hugging Serena,” Thomas said and shut the door behind him, “Keenan was weaving one hell of a believable lie about his hatred for the Bonnie Prince.” All eyes turned to Thomas. “Keenan even said that he had been about to kill Gerard himself when he found him dead.”

“What about the letter?” Gavin asked.

“The King asked Keenan if a letter had been found on Gerard and Keenan said that Gerard had bragged about it which was how Keenan discovered that Gerard was a Jacobite. But after Keenan found Gerard dead, there hadn’t been anything in his pockets,” Thomas smiled. “Brilliant.”

“Why brilliant?” Brodick asked.

Keenan’s weight sank into the soft tick causing Serena to roll into him. “It gave me a plausible way of discovering Gerard’s loyalties, and it was partly the truth so the true murderers and King George would ken I wasn’t lying.”

“And then,” Thomas joined in, “King George said that the letter had been retrieved.”

“So it still exists?” Brodick looked hopeful and Thomas nodded.

Serena climbed back out of the Keenan induced gully. “So the king admitted that William hadn’t killed Gerard?”

Keenan shook his head slightly and looked down. “When I suggested that someone else may have killed Gerard for the letter, Frampton joined in to say that someone may have taken it from Gerard’s pocket after the Romany man had killed him for his purse.”

Disappointment stabbed through Serena. It must have shown on her face for both Gavin and Brodick stepped to the end of the bed.

“We’re na’ done here yet, Serena,” Brodick said with encouragement.

“Aye,” Gavin joined in, “once we identify the true murderers, perhaps they will admit it.”

Serena tried to roll past Keenan to rise, but he wouldn’t move. “Why? Why would they when they know the king protects them? William is the perfect innocent to blame.” Serena’s eyes blurred with tears that she fought to hold in place.

Keenan ordered his men out to scout the halls. He sat next to her, his weight once again pulling her to him. He took the gloves she had just picked up and tossed them aside to take her hands in his large ones.

“Serena,” his words, soft, but commanding, made her look up. “We will do what we can.”

“But we have no plan.”

“Aye we do. We will try to find the letter, and we will try to get the murderers to admit their foul play.”

“But it won’t matter if they admit it. The king commanded it.”

Keenan smirked slightly. “Aye, he may have commanded it behind closed doors, but if they admit it in public, the king willna support them.”

“And what possibly could make them admit such a thing when doing so would mean abandonment by their society and possible imprisonment?”

Keenan shrugged. “Perhaps we can convince them that it would benefit them to show publicly that they are willing to commit murder to help the king’s cause?”

A snapping in the fire sparked fiercely until it became a familiar voice.

“What a stupid plan.” Drakkina stepped from the hot air in the hearth. Serena sucked in a breath at the wild tingling along her birthmark. Drakkina advanced. Keenan jumped up from the bed and brandished a dirk he drew from his thigh.

Drakkina waved her hand at his short sword. “Put that away, Keenan Maclean. You can’t stab me. I’m but made of air.”

“You can see her?” Serena asked him even though the answer was obvious.

“Aye,” he said guardedly while lowering the dirk to his side. “Is she the one who visited ye in the cave?”

Serena nodded. “Yes.”

“What do ye want, spirit?”

She winked one sharp blue eye at him. “You can call me Drakkina or Master if you prefer.” She smiled a small mouthful of perfect white teeth. “Although I don’t think you have it in you to call anyone master, Keenan Maclean, warrior chief of Kylkern.”

“I am na’ chief of Kylkern.”

“No? Who controls the honed army of warriors from Kylkern? Lachlan?” She laughed darkly. “I think even with your head clouded by duty, you still see that they follow you, not him.”

Serena stood up beside Keenan. “Why do you come here?”

“Ah Serena, you are angry with me,” Drakkina said softly.

Was she angry with the crone? More so with herself. “You know the answers before I speak so why ask?”

Drakkina inclined her head. “I concede the point, young Wiccan.” She turned to look pointedly at Keenan. “To answer the tumbling questions behind that blank façade of yours, I did tell her to kiss you, but she responded to your touch out of love for you, not out of duty or purpose.”

“Drakkina,” Serena said, but the old woman held up a hand to silence her.

“She loves you even if she hasn’t identified it yet. And if you’d set aside your imprecise perceptions of what is right and wrong, then you’d realize that you love her, too.” She looked between them and frowned. “You are both bumbling fools in your ignorance.” She sighed deeply and then waved her hands in dismissal.