She told them, specifically, and didn’t gloss over her fear.
As she spoke, Fin rose, strode to the window looking out over the back gardens. On the table, Boyle’s hands balled into fists.
“You’ll not walk to work or home alone from now on.”
Iona gaped at Boyle. “That’s ridiculous. I have to—”
“You’ll not. And that’s the end of it.”
Before Iona could speak again, she caught Meara’s eye, and her friend’s subtle shake of the head.
“Connor can walk with her to the stables.” Branna spoke smoothly. “They go the same way, and you and Fin have only to see their schedules mesh close enough.”
“It’s done,” Boyle said definitely. “And I’ll see her home. It’s done,” he repeated.
“I appreciate the concern. Is someone going to be with me every time I take a step out of the house, or want to go into the village? And you’d better start sleeping with me, too,” she told Boyle. “Because he’s poking around in my dreams. I’m allowed to be afraid, but I’m not allowed to be helpless. And no one else is allowed to think I am.”
“Far from helpless,” Connor soothed. “But precious. And necessary. We need you, so a few precautions, at least for now, will ease our minds.”
“Precious. Necessary.” Fin turned, his face cool. “I agree with that. And yet you didn’t call me when the precious and necessary was threatened.”
“It was quick,” Connor told him. “And in truth I only thought to get to Iona, and to bring Branna as fast as we both could. So you’re right, the fault’s mine there.”
“Could you have done more?” Branna asked Fin.
“We can’t know, can we? But you have to decide, all of you, if I’m to be a part of this, or if you’ll hold me outside.”
Rather than answer, Branna changed angles. “Can you read him? Sense his thoughts?”
“I can’t, no. He’s blocked me out. He knows I’ve chosen my side. Sure he believes I can be turned still, and he’ll pull at me. In dreams, and in waking ones.”
“You don’t block him.”
Fin bit off a curse. “I’ve a life to live, don’t I? Other thoughts in my head. He’s got only the one purpose for his whole existence, and I’ve more than that. And if I block him altogether, if I could, there’s no chance then, is there, none at all that I might learn something that could help us end this. If you don’t believe I want that, to end it, to see even the thought of him destroyed, I’ve nothing left to convince you.”
“I don’t doubt that. I don’t.” Branna rose to go over, stir the soup. “She needs the horse. Iona needs her guide.”
Sheer frustration flicked over Fin’s face. “He’s been hers since the first I saw him. You’ve no place to keep Alastar here, so he’s with Boyle and me. If you don’t trust that, I’ll sign his papers over to her tomorrow.”
“No!” Appalled, Iona pushed to her feet. “That’s not right.”
“Nor is it what I was saying or meaning. It’s you who have to tell her he’s hers. You and Boyle, as you brought him here, and you’re keeping him for her. I only meant that.”
“Even without any magick to it, the horse was hers the minute they set eyes on each other.” Boyle lifted his hands, let them fall. “And Fin’s the right of it. You’ve no place here to keep him as he needs to be. We spoke of it the very night Fin came home again.”
“I’m grateful to you, both.” Branna’s tone softened. “And I’m sorry, truly, if it seemed I wasn’t.”
“I’ve never wanted your gratitude or your apologies,” Fin told her.
“You have them, wanted or not, and can do what you please with them.” Setting the spoon aside, Branna came back to the table.
Iona, like Fin, remained standing.
“Thank you.”
“You’re entirely welcome,” Fin told her.
“And thank you,” she said to Boyle. “Since he’s mine, I’ll pay for his food and lodging. And that’s the end of it,” she said as Boyle opened his mouth in obvious protest. “I haven’t had much that was mine that mattered, but I take care of what belongs to me.”
