Page 60 of Blood & Claw

Holding her eye, he slid his thumb down the scar, following its length. “Courtesy of my brother,” he murmured.

She jolted from whatever unsettling effect he seemed to have on her. “Your brother tried to kill you?”

He nodded.

“Well, I hope you made him pay.”

Something flared in the depths of his tawny eyes—a violence that made her pulse leap—before his lips quirked once more. “Not yet … but I will.”

Their stare held for a heartbeat longer, and then Ailsa dragged her gaze away.

Flustered, she turned and moved to the washbowl. She then focused on washing her under-tunic before hanging it up by the hearth.

Dale had added another brick of peat to the fire. Blue-grey smoke drifted up to the vent. Nonetheless, some of the fug remained, and it caught in the back of Ailsa’s throat. She coughed.

“It’s likely to get a bit smoky in here,” he said behind her. “But better that than something forces its way in through that vent in the night.”

She didn’t argue with him.

Carrying the washbowl outdoors—and taking care to avoid looking in Dale’s direction as she did so—she tipped the dirty water away.

Ailsa looked up. The sky had turned indigo, and in the distance, to the west, a faint shriek made her pause.

The faerie world was stirring.

Time for them to do the opposite.

Retreating indoors hurriedly, she drew the iron bar across the door and wedged it in tightly. She then sprinkled salt in front of it. After that, she laid some more around the hearth.

While she’d been outside, Dale had climbed into his pile of furs, pulling them up around his chin. However, she’d noted he’d put one of his weapons—a long-bladed dagger—within arm’s reach.

A soft snore rumbled through the room.

Ailsa halted, her gaze narrowing as she rested it on the figure draped in furs.

Some bodyguard.

She had barely been gone, but the man was already asleep.

She was hardly surprised though. He’d looked done in. It was a relief too—for their short exchange earlier had unsettled her.

There was no love lost between brothers. And from the look she’d glimpsed in Dale’s eyes, he was marking the days until he could get even.

Ailsa frowned then.

Not for the first time, she wondered what sort of man she’d tangled herself up with. She’d known she was hiring a mercenary, but nothing about her bodyguard quite added up. There were too many contradictions and odd behaviors.

Her temples started to throb then. She wanted to get to the bottom of it, yet was too tired to think.

With a sigh, she crawled fully clothed into her own furs, pulling them close to form a cocoon. They smelled musty and likely hadn’t been aired in a while, but she didn’t care. It was a place to sleep. Somewhere to seek oblivion for the night.

Gods, she was exhausted. This forced rest made her nerves unravel for the first time in days. They’d catch up with Kayla soon, and then they could go home—they could put all of this behind them.

No sooner had she snuggled into the furs than sleep yanked her down into its embrace.

Firelight burnished naked skin.

Her hands traced the sculpted muscles of his arms and torso, a slow exploration, for she wanted to commit every inch of him to memory.