Page 37 of Blood & Claw

Dale kicked Rùn into a canter, and Ailsa tightened her grip around his waist, thighs clenching.

It was a relief to give her poor, abused feet a rest. Even so, her proximity to the man she’d hired still disturbed her. Although she’d never learned to ride, she’d have preferred her own mount. A pity then that she’d spent nearly everything she had on buying this mercenary’s aid.

Run’s hooves beat out an urgent rhythm on the road.

Cold air whipped against Ailsa’s face while the sounds of the night pressed close—growls, splashes, distant howls.

She forced herself to ignore them. Kayla mattered more than whatever haunted these shores.

But then her gaze caught on a figure drifting across the loch’s surface. Long hair streamed behind her, white as a crone’s.

Ailsa tensed against Dale’s broad back, even as her lips parted in wonder. A Loch-bhàn.

The wraith’s eldritch song rose over the water.

Ailsa’s breathing grew shallow as she listened. She’d never encountered a Loch-bhàn before, yet now understood its lure. Its singing stirred something inside her; it made her want to court danger and linger here to listen.

As if sensing her strange urge, Dale pushed Rùn faster.

“They’re traveling as swift as Shee.” Darach straightened up from where he’d been examining the imprints of horse hooves in the dirt.

Still perched atop Rùn’s back, Ailsa pulled a face. “I never managed to catch up with them either … when I set out from Braewall,” she muttered. “No matter how fast I ran, they were always one step ahead.”

“Aye … but you were on foot.” He dusted off his hands and looked north. “Now, we’re on a fast horse.”

“As are they,” she reminded him.

Darach frowned.

He wasn’t used to company. Especially not a stubborn lass who questioned every decision he made. Ailsa wasn’t one to prattle, thank the Gods, but when she did talk, she got under his skin.

He wasn’t in the mood.

They’d traveled hard all night and continued with the dawn. It was now reaching noon. The day was grey and breezy. The road continued to hug the loch-shore, wending its way north through The Wolds.

If the mercenaries kept to it, Darach would catch them. If they left it … the hunt would become far harder.

His lips flattened. Where the fuck are they taking her?

They could be heading to Duncrag for all Darach knew. Maybe the High Queen had sent those men. One thing was clear: whoever wanted Kayla had gone to a lot of trouble to take her.

Darach frowned as he cast another gaze around. A hunter usually had the advantage over prey—but not in this case. He didn’t know anything about the warriors he was tracking.

And it vexed him that he didn’t have the answers.

He stiffened then. The beast was restless today. He could feel it hissing in his ear, pushing against his ribs. Smells and sounds were sharper too, almost uncomfortably so.

“Are you done there?” Ailsa huffed then. “We can’t wait around here. Kayla needs us.”

Darach’s frown slid into a scowl.

She seemed to think they were partners.

They weren’t.

One of them knew how to track dangerous men. The other didn’t.

Returning to his horse, he swung back onto the saddle in front of Ailsa. Having two of them on Rùn’s back slowed them down. The stallion was strong, but although slender, his companion was a tall woman.