Page 124 of Dark Seduction

IT TOOK CLAIRE a while to dry her hair before the fire. As upset as she was about leaving Malcolm, she was apprehensive about seeing the man who was her biological father. Had she ever seen an expression on his face other than determination, resolve, ambition? He reminded her of a career general. When her hair was almost dry, she went into the hall, her heart scudding with the fear of rejection and some anger that he had left her and her mother to fend for themselves.

She realized they had quite a bit of company. Malcolm was brooding with a mug of claret. Ironheart sat across from him, his face expressionless. MacNeil sat there, as well, the only man in an apparent good humor. Claire was very surprised to see him.

MacNeil was first to leap to his feet, green eyes twinkling, dimples deep. “Hallo a Chlaire.”

“Hallo a Niall. Ciamar a tha sibh?”

His eyes brightened as he strode to her and clasped her hands. “Very well, lass. Ye’ve had quite a day.”

Claire glanced past him, unable to return his smile.

“Fer a powerful woman who helped vanquish Moray, ye dinna seem all that pleased.”

She jerked to face MacNeil. “Did we vanquish Moray?”

He hesitated. “Only the Ancients ken, Claire. But ye seem to have earned their favor. Ye have Faola’s protection now.”

He had all of her attention. “Was that her?”

“Aye, she was there. She allowed me a glimpse o’ the battle in my crystal stone.”

She noticed what he was showing her, a chunk of milky quartz set in gold arms, which he wore on a gold chain around his neck, beneath his leine. The stone was the size of an apricot. “Is that your crystal ball?”

“When I’m allowed to see,” he said with a grin. “I never ken.”

She had to know. “Does Malcolm have her protection, too?”

“I dinna ken, but even if Moray comes back, he will never hunt him again, not after what Malcolm has done. I’ve known the Deamhan fer a thousand years. He hunts what is easy. He be a coward at heart, Claire.”

“Why was it written that we’d defeat Moray together?”

“Ye ask me? I dinna ken the Ancients’ plans fer the future, lass.” His smile broadened. He was clearly in great spirits. “I’m proud o’ yer lord. He’s the youngest o’ us all an’ he defeated Moray, with yer help. Malcolm has proven himself a great Master, hundreds o’ years ahead o’ the time fer such proof.” He said softly, to Malcolm, “Calum Leomhaiin.”

Claire looked at Malcolm. He held her gaze for a moment and she didn’t have to read his mind to know he was more than upset—he was hurt. She was hurting him now. “I’m so proud of him, too.” She tore her gaze from Malcolm. “What did you just call Malcolm?”

“The Lion, lass. Malcolm the Lion.”

He had earned the name, she thought, feeling her heart crack open even as pride swelled.

“I be proud o’ ye, too. Claire, yer brave an’ cunning, an’ ye have power. Ye be the daughter o’ Ironheart in every way.”

“How long have you known?”

“I didna ken, but I had my suspicions.”

“MacNeil, what about my powers? How did I prevent myself from dying in that leap from Tor? Did I make myself invisible when Moray’s hordes were searching for me? Do I have healing powers? What does that make me?”

“Yer Ironheart’s daughter.” MacNeil was firm. “I dinna ken why the Ancients gave ye some gifts, but yer not alone in this world. There be thousands of men an’ women born to Masters who have some power, but not the powers a Master must have before takin’ his vows. Every Master is different, Claire. We all have the power o’ takin’ life and leapin’ time. We all have the strength o’ ten mortal men. No man is chosen to make his vows otherwise. Ye haven’t been chosen, an’ ye won’t be—there be no women Masters—but ye do have gifts. Say yer thanks fer them.”

Claire got it. She’d have to figure out her powers, day by day. At least she would have some supernatural stuff going on to help her when she got home.

He clasped her shoulder. “I came to say farewell.”

For one dumb moment, Claire thought he was going somewhere. Then she realized and she inhaled, turning to look at Malcolm.

“I ken yer leavin’ in the morn,” MacNeil said. “Ye have the Ancients with ye, lass. Make certain ye dinna forsake them. Ye’ll be fine.”

Before Claire could thank him, he smiled, released her and vanished.