“I may not know your name,” I say, lowering my voice. “But I knowwhatyou are. Do you know me?”
“Better than you do, lass,” he taunts. “I know you well indeed.”
He removes one foot from the stirrup and swings his leg up and over, dropping to the ground. He strides around the horse with an easy confidence. The black blade in his hand is pointing at the ground. He stops in front of the horse, keeping a healthy distance between us.
“Then you know my role,” I say.
Magic tingles in my core. Although it’s only a trickle, it’s a sign that my plan is working. More time, all I need to do is stall. Keep this arrogant jerk talking. His grin is wide and self-assured. Confidence bordering on arrogance.
“Aye. That I do.”
“Then take your men and leave. I’ll remember it when the time comes.”
He chuckles and takes three long strides closer. I force my nerves to hold, keeping myself from stepping back as he comes closer, but barely. He smells wrong, foul, as if there’s something rotten inside of him.
“That would be most kind of you.”
“I’m a kind person at heart.”
“I would make a counterproposal.”
“Which is?”
The eyes of all the survivors are on me and most of his men have shifted their focus as well. I’m trapped in the middle, the sole hope of those behind and the sole desire to kill of those in front. It’s an uncomfortable position made worse because I’m faking my way through this.
“Come with me.”
I blink and shake my head. That is not what I expected. He smiles and doesn’t say more, waiting for me to answer.
“And?”
“And? We’ll see the world. Travel, if you like. Feast every night. We’ll dance across the Highlands, and we’ll visit the finest taverns. Our nights will be pleasure and our days adventure.”
Is he hitting on me? First, yuck. Second, seriously? A dozen guns aimed at my heart and he’s flirting? What in the hell is wrong with this guy?
“Sorry, you’re not my type.”
He drops his head as if wounded but does it with such dramatic flair its clear he’s playing with me. He sighs loud enough that it echoes, then looks back at his men.
“Kill them,” he says as he turns towards his horse.
“Wait!” I scream, my voice cracking.
The hunters’ guns rattle as they take their aim. Women weep and the children scream. I try to dosomething,anything, but nothing comes. Right before the guns fire the lord raises his hand and they hold. He looks over his shoulder, his eyes locking onto me.
“Yes?”
“You don’t want to do this.”
“Don’t I?” he shakes his head. “I’d argue it’s pretty clear I do, very much, want to do exactly this.”
“Why? What does it gain you?”
“Oh, Quinn,” he says, and ice coats my heart. He knows my name. My real name. Who is this guy? “You have no idea the layers involved in this. You failed to stop it because I willed it so. You won’t save them. I’ll kill them now or I’ll kill them later. It doesn’t matter because it’s what I want.”
The ice around my heart shatters as anger floods my body. It’s not anger, it’s rage. The cold callousness in the way he dismissively talks about these people. Duncan’s people. My people. I won’t stand for it.
I stride ahead. Empty-handed, no magic, nothing but my own force of will. I grab him by his shoulder and jerk him around. He’s a few inches taller than I but our glares lock.