He turns to me. ‘Dominic does have a point, though. Seven men, living together in this ancient monastery out here on this… barren moor, with no other female company…’
‘But I thought you said…’ He’s trying to scare me. Seven men? At that moment, I realise I’ve simply had enough. I straighten my spine and look up directly into his face.
‘Will they be willing to answer to Cillian if anything happens to me?’
A smile teases the corners of Declan’s mouth.
‘So, you’re not Cillian’s, but you are Cillian’s?’
‘Yes.’ I nod. Nothing else in this place makes sense, so why should I?
‘Now, that’s more like it,’ Declan says, stepping aside. ‘Come inside and we’ll get you settled.’
I’m shaking as I follow Declan through the door into the cool interior of the monastery, grateful when Dominic doesn’t follow.
Chapter16
Cillian
Ican’t decide whether I am disappointed or relieved that I lost the hunt. Relieved that I didn’t have to kill Niamh, certainly, and I hope that theBean Nigheis correct and she’s reached St Marnox. Once I’ve dealt with Vittoria, I’ll call and check.
By the time I’m on my way back to Glasgow, I want nothing more than to sleep and figure this all out when I’m rested. I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white. What started off last night as an engagement celebration has turned into a disaster. A human killing Kin? It’s happened in the past, but not for decades, and I can’t believe Niamh is the one who committed murder. As soon as I’ve delivered Vittoria the heart, I’ll figure out what to do about Niamh.
The metallic smell of blood and musty earth fills the car as questions run through my head. How the hell did Niamh get to St Marnox? TheBean Nigheclaimed it wasn’t through her, so who? There was magic behind the stag and the mist tonight. I need to find out whose magic it was and work out why they are doing this. What’s so special about Niamh? And why have they enabled her to find sanctuary in the Underworld?
I keep my speed legal and an eye out for the polis, explaining why I’ve been deer hunting in an Armani suit is not something I want to get into, and I’m too exhausted for my magic to be reliable. Dealing with the carcass, however, at least served one purpose– to help rid me of some of the frustrated desire still coursing through my veins. I didn’t have to bury the deer, I could’ve left it to rot in the woods, but I didn’t want an animal missing its heart to make the news and for Vittoria to become suspicious of the gift I’m presenting to her. My future as king is important now, more than ever.
The Glamour I’ve cast on the heart to make it look human should more than satisfy Vittoria. I barely pass another car on the road into the city and stop off at Cernunnos. Our housekeeper isn’t best pleased at being woken just after five a.m.– but her job is to sort out our problems, and right now cleaning my ruined suit is essential, and it gives me the opportunity to shower and change before I see Vittoria.
I detour into the city centre to check behind the Sussurri premises, making sure Vittoria’s security did their jobs, even if they did a piss-poor one inside the club last night. They have, and there’s no sign of anything from last night, not even a single drop of blood on the cobbles. Then I cross the Squinty Bridge, heading for Vittoria’s flat south of the river in Kingston, fighting my desperate need to go to St Marnox and see Niamh. I tell myself I just want to make sure she’s okay, but I know my desire is much more primal than that.
By the time I pull into Vittoria’s visitor’s parking space, I’m ready to deceive my fiancée. I have to be convincing, because one thing I am sure of is that if Vittoria realises that Niamh is still alive, she’ll not rest until she isn’t. And even though Niamh should be safe within the walls of St Marnox, I’d be a fool to underestimate Vittoria’s vindictiveness.
I glance up at Vittoria’s flat. The bedroom light is off, but the one in the lounge is still on. Has she waited up for me? My thoughts have been so consumed by Niamh that I don’t remember whether I promised to come as soon as I got back or not.
Much as I don’t want to admit it, the events of tonight have only made me realise how much I’ve been denying my feelings. How strong the pull towards Niamh Whyte really is. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I want Niamh. I was so close to taking her, I felt her desire and her fear, and now I’ve got a taste I want more. I wanteverythingfrom her. But no one argues with theBean Nighe. I’m furious that I lost the hunt, but like Niamh, I don’t want to die.
I ring the buzzer for Vittoria’s penthouse, knowing I need to play this carefully. I look up at the camera, the realisation that neither of us has keys to each other’s homes summing up our relationship. I’m buzzed in immediately, although when I reach the top floor, I wait longer than I expect at the main door and have lifted my fist to hammer on it, before it’s pulled open and I’m face to face with my fiancée, who is looking well-rested and coldly beautiful.
Before she’s even looked at me, her focus falls to the cool box I’m carrying.
‘You’ve showered?’ she asks, finally looking at me.
‘I stopped at Cernunnos. Didn’t think you’d want me showing up at your flat covered in blood.’
It takes an effort for me to keep my expression neutral in the face of the sick, twisted smile that curves her mouth, an ugly contrast to Niamh’s gentle smile, and an image of her fearful face replaces Vittoria’s almost immediately. I rub my hand across my stubble, an unfamiliar response twisting my guts. I push it away. I never feel guilty.
‘That’s hers?’
‘You asked for a heart.’ It’s dangerous, sometimes fatal, to outright lie to any of the Kinfolk, but I don’t owe Vittoria the whole truth. Niamh’s life depends on it.
‘I did. Come in.’ Vittoria holds the door open for me, and I enter. I spot my reflection in the antique mirror she has hanging in her hallway. It’s out of character with the rest of the modern penthouse, but it’s such a piece of exquisite workmanship that the fact it doesn’t fit in here doesn’t really matter.
Vittoria leads me into the ultra-modern kitchen. The gleaming white and shiny stainless-steel surfaces contrast with the darkness of their owner. I hold out the cool box, and she claps her hands in delight before reaching for it.
‘Thank you!’ she says, her blood-red nails curling round the handle as I hand it over. I watch as she practically skips over to the sink.
‘Have you slept?’ I ask. Every muscle in my body is screaming for rest, while Vittoria is positively buzzing with energy.
