Page 87 of Blood & Claw

Meanwhile, Ailsa held her breath.

The woman stopped in the center of the road and lifted her chin, her gaze settling on them. Even at this distance, Ailsa marked the long dagger at her hip, the longbow slung over one shoulder, and the quiver of arrows on her back.

And then, she swayed, as if drunk.

“What’s—” Ailsa began, just as the stranger’s legs folded under her and she sprawled, unconscious, onto the ground.

21: THE STRANGER ON THE ROAD

“STAY BACK … LET me check her first.”

Darach swung down from Rùn’s back, his gaze already sweeping the trees. He needed to take charge again, to re-establish his boundaries with Ailsa. “Draw your knife,” he added, without looking at her. “And don’t take your eyes off the woods.”

Ailsa didn’t argue. Iron whispered free of leather as she obeyed.

No, she wouldn’t fight him over this, not when they might be in danger. At least her readiness for action hadn’t changed, although everything else between them had.

After last night, he wasn’t sure what to say to her.

Or what she expected him to say either.

Pulling his own dagger from its sheath on his thigh, he approached the prone figure. And as he moved, he glanced left and right. Shadowy woodland of ash and beech surrounded them now, with a thick undergrowth of bramble, nettles, and ferns. An excellent place for outlaws to hide while using the woman as a decoy.

Or worse—another delay. Another chance for Kayla to slip farther beyond reach.

He approached the fallen figure slowly, every muscle tight, expecting arrows to whistle from the trees.

Nothing came.

The woman lay on her side in the dirt, one arm twisted beneath her. Leather clung dark and wet to her flank where blood had soaked through. Her skin was worryingly pale.

Darach studied her face. She was beautiful, although in an almost eerie way. Chiseled features and unusually sharp cheekbones. His gaze slid to her weapons then, the long-bladed dagger sheathed in embossed leather and the fine ash longbow and yew arrows. Who was she?

Glancing up, he waved to his companion. “It’s safe to approach.”

The clip-clop of Rùn’s hooves followed, and a short while later, the thud of boots hitting the hard-packed earth warned Darach that Ailsa had joined him. Meanwhile, he’d carefully rolled the woman onto her back and was checking for other injuries.

There were none, although that cut to her flank was bad enough.

“Is she dead?” Ailsa asked.

He reached out and pressed his fingers under the woman’s jaw. A pulse fluttered against his fingertips. Her chest rose and fell, shallowly. “No.”

“We need to help her.”

Darach exhaled slowly through his nose. Aye. Of course, they did. “We’ve already lost too much time,” he said flatly. Every moment they lingered, the gap between them and Kayla widened. He could feel it like a rope slipping through his fingers.

Ailsa stepped closer. “If we leave her, she’ll die.”

There was an edge to her voice now; the same one that surfaced whenever she thought he was wrong.

He straightened slowly, turning to face her at last.

The stubborn light in her eyes made his patience fray further still.

“Maybe,” he replied. “Or maybe she’s bait.”

Ailsa’s grip tightened on her knife. “Then we stay alert.”