“I ...” She opened her mouth, then closed it, uncertain how to respond.
“Once ye find the bastard ... or bastards who started the fire, I will handle the rest.”
His tone growled with emotion. Raw anger and a thirst for vengeance dripped from every syllable.
“So Tamhas told you I can read people?” Trulie knotted her hands into fists and pressed them against her stomach. The thought of trying to solve the murder filled her with gut-wrenching uneasiness. Had Granny known about all this when she had insisted on returning to this time? Had Granny really wanted to land in the middle of all this conflict? Trulie’s inner voice—the voice that always added commentary where Granny was concerned—responded with a loudWhat do you think?
“Aye.” Gray’s terse one-word response spoke volumes. “He said ye had the sight.”
Trulie took a deep breath and ignored the uncomfortable queasiness burning in the back of her throat. “Well. I think I need to explain it a bit more. I can read people and get a very accurate sense of what type of person they are, but I can’t always see everything in their minds.” Well. She reallycouldsee into peoples’ minds. But sorting through a person’s thoughts and memories always made her uneasy. She rarely used that particular gift. It drained her physically, and if she happened across someone’s more disturbing memories, the darkness haunted her for days. There were just some things she never wanted to know. “Uhm. I guess if you already have someone in mind, I could talk to them and see what I could find out. Do you have any idea who might have done it?”
She needed to stop babbling now. With a shaky pat of her hand, she found her glass and brought it to her lips. The cool springwater made the stomach-clenching nervousness even worse.
Calm down. Her oversensitive sense of self-preservation blared a loud and clear warning. Could Gray really be trusted? Was it safe to share the truth about her abilities—all her gifts? How many times had Granny told her keeping quiet about the Sinclairtalentswas key to the family’s survival?
“All I ask is that ye help find the one who set the fire. Help me find the one who bolted my mother’s doors and blocked the stairwell leading down from her private rooms. Help me find the cur who warned my father of the danger to his woman. The bastard lured my sire there before the fire was set. I want the one who barred the tower entrance from the outside and trapped my parents inside that fiery hell. I want their neck between my hands.”
The room pulsated with Gray’s anger. His rage battered against her senses like missiles exploding on impact. She closed her eyes and pressed her palms against her temples. His heartbreak and bleak sense of complete loss crashed into her. She flinched and shied away. Yes. This man could be trusted. All he wanted was to avenge his family.
“Are ye unwell, lass? Should I send for yer grandmother?” His was warm and reassuring on her shoulders. His aura surrounded her, then lowered to the floor. The man must be on his knees.
She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. Here he was, racked by such pain, and yet he knelt at her feet out of concern for her. Her stomach somersaulted and her heart double-thumped a fluttering sigh. Fingers shaking, she smoothed them across her cheeks and blinked against the sting of unshed tears. With a sniff, she straightened in the chair and forced a smile. He is just polite. Don’t read anything into it. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to break down like that. I’m fine. I’ll be ... just fine.”
“Perhaps yer weariness has overly taxed ye.”
The vibrant blue aura rose as he stood and moved away. The warmth of Gray’s touch slid away from her shoulders, triggering an immediate shiver.Come back,all her senses cried out. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, shaking the feeling away. Breathe. Just breathe.
“I shall have yer grandmother sent to ye.” His voice now came from behind her. He was back at the door.
The slow creaking hinges and the soft thud confirmed it. Just that quick, he was gone.
She sagged forward and held her head. Why did alone suddenly seem ... lonely? A cold wet nose snuffled against her. Karma grumbled a low, soothing whine and bumped his silky head up beneath her arm.
“I love you too, Karma.” She buried her face in his wooly ruff and rubbed his velvety ears. A metallic clatter and the rasping whisper of a moving door straightened her in the chair. “Who’s there?”
“It’s only me, gal.” A trillingprrrppannounced Kismet accompanied Granny. Soft footsteps echoed across the room, then the gentle weight of Granny’s hand rested on her shoulder. “Gray said you weren’t well.” A familiar, gnarled finger lifted her chin. “What’s ailin’ you, gal?”
“Other than my eyes, I’m fine,” Trulie lied. She patted the table until she found her cup. A rough tongue rasped across the back of her hand, then water splashed across her fingers. “Kismet. That was my water.”
A lapping sound echoed, then the rough tongue swiped her hand again. Trulie sagged back in the chair. “You’re welcome.”
Granny squeezed her shoulders. “Come on. Get up.”
“Where are we going now?” She really preferred staying put until her sight returned.
“Coira’s waiting for you in your room. She will get you fed and settled in.” Granny gave her shoulders another impatient shake. “Come on, now. Time’s a wastin’.”
“Who is Coira?” Without her sight, she felt like she needed a scorecard to keep up with all the players in this twisted game of thirteenth-century Name That Scot. Trulie held out her hands and slowly rose from the chair before Granny could shake her again. Patience was not one of Granny’s virtues.
Granny steered her clear of the chair, then tucked her hand in the crook of her arm. “She is our maidservant. I have spoken to her. She’ll help get you acclimated.”
“So, she knows about us?” Trulie lifted her face as a waft of cool air brushed past her and the door groaned shut behind them.
“She knows enough.” Granny patted Trulie’s hand and turned her down the hallway.
CHAPTER8
“Dinna fret now, Mistress Trulie. Coira will have ye all unpacked and settled in yer rooms in no time at all.” The bright-pink aura jabbering away in third person buzzed around the room in such a frenzy it made Trulie’s head spin. Coira must have been a hummingbird in a past life.
