Page 146 of Blood & Claw

Ailsa frowned. “That’s why he’s doing this?”

Kayla gave a thin smile. “It’ll be one reason, aye.”

Her gaze turned searching then, and Ailsa stiffened under the scrutiny. “What?”

“Earlier … in the hall. Darach’s eyes … they changed. And the way he fought those guards …” Kayla’s voice trailed off, as if she lacked the words to describe what she’d witnessed.

Ailsa sighed and turned to face her mentor properly. She leaned up against the cool iron door. It didn’t budge. There was no way out of this cell. “He has a clag-doo tattoo … it’s corrupted,” she said softly. “He came looking for you.”

She remembered that evening in Farnoch in the ale-hall then.

The aloof mercenary with tawny eyes.

So much had changed since that day. She’d thought they’d bared their souls to each other, yet Darach had withdrawn from her in that shieling. She'd seen the naked suspicion in his eyes, as even he thought she’d deceived him. But all the while, he’d been holding back something important back from her.

“That’s how we met,” she admitted. “Although I didn’t realize he had an ulterior motive. I needed a bodyguard, and he offered me his services. I can’t believe he lied to me about his brother when he told me about everything else.” Her throat tightened then. “But the moment he realized what I was … he couldn’t even look at me.”

Kayla continued to study her, and her eyes held a knowing look that made Ailsa’s cheeks warm. She didn’t need to tell her mentor what had happened between her and Darach. Kayla knew. “The clag-doo,” she said after a pause. “Does he have control over it?”

“More than he had before. The night before last, I performed a binding tattoo, a circle of thorns I’ve seen you do in the past.”

Kayla’s eyes snapped wide. “Unsupervised?”

“Of course … you weren’t to hand.”

“And it … worked?”

“Partly. I leashed the beast … and he can summon it now at will.” She pulled a face then. “But controlling it and changing back are much harder.”

Kayla’s brow furrowed. “He tried to shift earlier … but the iron collar stopped him.”

Ailsa nodded before she turned away and pressed her knuckles against the door. Curse it. He was a devious bastard who was repulsed by her, but she still wanted to help him. However, she was locked behind this damn door.

A moment later, she heard Kayla rise from her sleeping nook. Her bare feet whispered on stone as she crossed to Ailsa and placed her hands upon her shoulders.

“Look at me, lass.”

Slowly, Ailsa lifted her chin, and their gazes met.

“It’s just you and me now.”

Ailsa’s jaw tightened. Once, those words would have comforted her, but no longer. The two of them against the world didn’t work anymore—it never really had—and Kayla knew it.

Old habits were hard to break though.

Not only that, but Kayla made it sound as if Darach were already dead. As if he didn’t matter. That didn’t sit well with Ailsa either. “Then we’re in trouble,” she muttered.

“No,” Kayla replied, her eyes glinting. “We just bide our time.”

38: THE WATCHER

FERN SABLEBANE STOOD on the edge of an overhang, framed by snow-clad pines, and looked over the fort. The icy air made her eyes water and her nose tingle. The waxing moon shone down, rising now and illuminating the silvery crust of snow. Meanwhile, the braziers upon the wall burned, lighting up the night like a hive of fireflies.

Her gaze narrowed as she observed the fort.

It was new, seemingly sprung from the earth like a toadstool.

She’d walked the forests, straths, and glens of Albia for a long while, and never on her travels had she come across this fort. Years earlier, she had passed this way, and there had been a Circines village upon the crag—turf-roofed huts and wooden palisades—but this was not a hill-tribe stronghold.