“Youmay call me Mr. MacDara.” Alec turned away, picked up his sword, and shoved it into the sheath belted to his side. “And I didna say the contract was found suitable. I said counsel recommended that I speak with ye.”
Without a look back, he headed across the practice arena with long, powerful strides. “Follow me. The board and I have our own terms and questions—as does my lawyer.”
Sadie started to follow, then looked back at Delia. Her red-faced sister was currently standing with both hands on her hips and staring after Alec as though she couldn’t believe he’d just insulted her and walked away.
Delia stomped her foot. A shrill hiss escaped her pursed lips as one of her heels wedged between the wooden boards. “Is he crazy? I’m not walking through that filth in my Louis Vuittons.”
“Well, you’d better if you want this deal.” Sadie held out a hand to steady her sister. If she let Delia fall, she’d never hear the end of it. “I can’t believe you wore those shoes to a theme park. What were you thinking?”
“Just shut up, Sadie,” Delia barked. She wobbled across the uneven surface of the hard-packed dirt, nearly going down when one gleaming black heel sank into a pronounced dip.
Sadie caught her sister up by the elbows before she hit the ground. Just once, she wished she could let Delia bust her ass.Inwardly, she shook her head. No. She had to take care of Delia.Big sister owned the keys to the screenplay kingdom.
Comfortable shoes trumped high-priced heels any day in Sadie’s book, but Delia had always been a slave to fashion. Sadie tightened her hold on Delia’s arm as her sister stumbled across another rough patch of ground. “You’d better pick up the pace before he gets to the door and we lose him.”
Sadie glanced up just as Alec entered the building. “Too late. If that keep is as authentic on the inside as it is on the outside, it could be like a maze in there. We may be out of luck when it comes to this meeting.”
“If this meeting doesn’t go down, you’re going to be out of a hell of a lot more than just luck.” Delia hobbled faster, tightening her hold until her nails bit into Sadie’s arm.
Sadie flinched and steered Delia toward a smoother patch of ground. They finally reached the apron of concrete surrounding the massive stone archway sheltering the private entrance to the keep.
Delia yanked herself out of Sadie’s hands. “Just let me do the talking. None of your stupid jokes or idiotic attempts at humor. Keep your mouth shut, your back to the wall, and take notes like a good littlemuteassistant or this meeting will be your last. Understand?”
Thank goodness Alec had already disappeared into the keep and couldn’t have possibly heard Delia’s rant. Anger flashed hot through Sadie. Tightening her arm around her tablet, she sucked in a deep breath between clenched teeth and held it. Steady. Karma would get Delia. She would get what she deserves.Sadie released her breath and forced a smile at the stoic young man waiting for them beside the door. “Could you please point us in the right direction? I’m afraid we didn’t quite keep up with Mr. MacDara.”
The unsmiling youth glared first at Delia, then nodded at Sadie with a more amiable look. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the meeting room. Mr. Alec’s gone to change out of his workout clothes.”
Delia shoved her way in front of Sadie, her scowling backward glance clearly sayingyou’d better remember your place.She looped an arm through the waiting man’s forearmand snuggled up against him as though he were a long-lost lover. “Thank you so much. By all means, lead the way.”
Sadie pulled in another deep breath, fell in step behind Delia, and instantly felt better. A satisfied smile came to her and she almost snickered out loud. One of Delia’s precious Louis Vuittons had an ever-widening split in the spiked heel and a jagged tear in its costly leather.
Sadie’s stepped lighter until she was almost skipping.
CHAPTER 2
Alec shrugged on the crisp white shirt and struggled to button it as he slowly walked out of a closet big enough to house a small clan. Things were certainly different here in the twenty-first century. Fifteen years they’d been here. Even after all of Dwyn’s fostering and teaching about the strange modern-day contrivances, Alec still was not so sure of the whys and ways of this time. He’d never understand this strange era until they laid him in the grave and the goddesses explained it when he got to the other side.Some things were better—but there were a great many things that had suffered with the progress of the centuries. At least so far as he was concerned.
He yanked at the shirt, scowling down at the last of the accursed slippery buttons that were entirely too small for his fingers. He could easily throw a knife at fifty paces and part a gnat’s wings but could barely fasten these worrisome buttons.
“Has Davie settled them in the room yet?” he asked.
“Aye.” Dwyn MacKay, legal counsel and goddess-assigned advisor to the sacred MacDara clan—and to all the faithful descendants of the ancient druid clans covertly residing in the twenty-first century—perched on the leather-cushioned bench facing a wall filled with monitors showing various locationsthroughout the park. He nodded at Alec’s chest. “I told Mistress Lydia to stop buying those shirts with the tiny pearl buttons, but she refuses. Says the shirt makes the man and by golly ye’ll be wearing them ’til ye settle down and give yer mother a house full of grandchildren.”
With a defeated shake of his head, Dwyn turned and stared at the largest of the six screens centered in the wall of video surveillance, pointed a small remote at the monitors, and clicked until the view of the meeting room appeared. “It appears to me that yer mother and Mistress Lydia have been talking entirely too much to one another and yer arse is doomed.” Dwyn leaned closer to the screens, squinting as he studied the monitor. “What has that thin one there done to herself? She looks . . . unnatural. Reminds me of a banshee I once came across in Ireland.”
“Who’s to say?” Alec tucked his shirt into his jeans, sat on the bench beside Dwyn, and yanked on his boots. “Ye ken her type as well as I. She’s as fickle as the wind. I felt it in my bones as soon as I set eyes on her.” He leaned forward, hands on both knees, nodding at Delia’s pinch-faced image. “’Tis why I feel this is wrong and we waste our time. I dinna trust her or her company. And yer own research found they dinna always keep to their word. Ye discovered the law nipping at their heels how many times?” Alec kept his gaze trained on the center screen focused on the two women. ’Twas a damn shame they were having to deal with one such as Delia Williams to meet the writer of those emails. A damn shame indeed.
Dwyn rose from the bench and slowly approached the wall of monitors. Spindly arms folded across his thin frame, his bushy red brows arched to where his hairline would’ve been if he’d had any hair other than the wild, reddish-blond tuft at the top of his head, slicked back as though he were some exotic bird flattening his crest. “Forget what I found. What did the Heartstone tell ye about this venture?”
The manwouldbring that up. Alec ignored the question, just as Dwyn had refused to acknowledge his. “Look at the vile woman. Look how she treats her sister, no less.” Again, Alec shook his head at the monitor, his blood heating even more as it appeared that Delia was once again berating Sadie.
He could tell by Sadie’s carefully held mask of calm that Delia’s rant was directed at her. Sadie might appear as though her sister’s words caused her no troubles, but even in the camera, he could see the pain in the kind lass’s eyes. “I fail to see how one sister can be so brimming with warmth and kindness while the other is as spiteful as a demon. They canna possibly share the same blood.”
“What did the Heartstone tell ye?” Dwyn repeated the question with a look Alec knew all too well. The stubborn demigod was as relentless as the sea when he set his mind to something.
“I didna ask the Heartstone about the production company.”
“Ye said ye consulted the stone regarding this particular undertaking.”
