Page 100 of Blood & Claw

“Show it to me,” she snapped. “I’m Kayla’s apprentice. I learned at her knee. You should have spoken of this earlier.”

His eyebrows drew together. “Can you help me?”

His skepticism needled her. However, a moment later, doubt surfaced. “I don’t know … but Kayla was wary of letting me channel earth magic. She bade me to watch while she worked on her special customers. However, I had begun some lessons. You’re in trouble, and Kayla isn’t here. Looks like I’m your only choice.”

She stared him down then, daring him to defy her.

Growling a curse, he rose to his feet. Tension shivered off his strong body.

He then began to unlace his leather breeches.

And despite everything, heat flickered deep in her gut.

Damn him. Cutting her gaze away, she tried to pull herself together, to focus.

What had the fool done?

Kayla had told her about what happened if someone unskilled tried to weave earth magic into a tattoo. There was a reason that druids had forbidden common folk from using it.

Darach dropped his breeches. The tunic he wore under his leathers concealed his groin, yet he pulled it up as he turned side-on, so she could see the tattoo.

Getting to her feet, Ailsa moved close before dropping into a crouch next to him. And the moment her gaze slid over the large tattoo that covered his right thigh, she stilled.

A beast, feline with golden eyes, snarled at her. Hackles raised, long canines and sharp incisors bared in a blue-woad snarl.

“Shit,” she breathed.

Everything slammed into place then.

Every strange look. Every disappearance.

“By the Five.” Her gaze snapped back to the tattoo. “Why would anyone choose a clag-doo?”

“I asked the tattooist for Albia’s most dangerous predator.” Bitterness sharpened his voice. “And he delivered.”

Ailsa didn’t reply. Instead, she continued to study the tattoo. The man had lacked Kayla’s artistry and attention to detail, but that wasn’t what mattered. She marked the redness in the skin around the tattoo. The blue lines seemed to weep faintly, as if the magic inside them were trying to escape. “Does it pain you?”

“Aye,” he grunted, “especially when the change comes … and afterward too.”

She nodded, recalling the way he limped in the mornings. Little fragments put together now formed a clear picture.

“It’s indeed corrupted,” she said finally. “The tattooist lost control of the magic halfway through.” She glanced up at him to see him staring down at her. His expression was stoic. There wasn’t any point in softening the blow. This man was a warrior. A prince. He could handle the truth. “I’ve never heard of someone being transformed by a corrupted tattoo … although Kayla told me that some folk sicken and die. But with you, it’s far worse. The clag-doo is taking you, Darach.”

Darach. It felt odd to call him that. A punch to the gut. A reminder that everything about this man was a lie. Worse than that, he’d used her. This job had never been about the coin, but about getting Kayla’s help. She wasn’t sure whether to be hurt, angry, or confused.

And yet, at the same time, it was a relief to have it all in the open. So many things had mystified her about her bodyguard. So many things hadn’t added up. Finally, she understood— why his eyes had glowed that night after their kiss, and why he’d run afterward.

The knot in her chest she’d been carrying since Ardroth loosened a little.

He hadn’t fled because he regretted kissing her, but because he’d been afraid of what he might do.

He’d been trying to protect her.

“How much time do I have?” Sweat beaded on his face now. A muscle in his jaw clenched and released rhythmically. The predator fought to free itself. Now that she was this close to him, she could smell what Fern had already noticed.

A dark, animal musk swept over her.

Pulse quickening, she pushed herself up and moved backward, putting the fire between them once more.