“Fuck off,” Saoirse snapped, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
Niall didn’t seem all that put off by her attitude. “Is that any way to speak to your master?”
“She’s not going with you,” Donal snarled.
“This isn’t an argument you can win. You know that.” Niall crossed one leg over the other, ankle resting against his knee. “I have her sealskin. You are in no position to argue.”
“You haven’t called for me,” Saoirse said.
“Which is why I am here.”
Fear sliced its way through Riordan, a helpless sort of sensation gripping his heart and making him want to scream in rage. Only he couldn’t. “You can’t have our sister.”
Niall’s smile was as cold as the Arctic Ocean some of the kin called home. “I already do. I’ve allowed her to stray from my side to show you I can be benevolent.”
Riordan outright scoffed at that. “If you were benevolent, you wouldn’t have sent your people to take her sealskin in the first place.”
“If your kind weren’t meant to be owned, then Danu would have never allowed you to separate yourselves from your sealskin. But you can, and it is on others to see your kind rightfully handled and owned.”
“You won’t own any of us.”
“On the contrary. I will own your entire clan before the month is up, and then I will move on to your kin.”
Niall spoke frankly, with the casual cruelness of one who knew they’d get what they wanted no matter the cost—to themselves or others, so long as they won. Riordan clenched his teeth together until his jaw ached, refusing to show his anguish, for that was a weakness none of them could afford. “You only have one of our sealskins.”
After the attack on Saoirse, Riordan had forbidden his clan from going out alone and warned others of the threat targeting the kin. Everyone was on edge, and the reason for that unease sat in his pub, smiling around poisoned words.
“Yes, but it’s the one that matters at this time.” Niall sighed in a put-upon way that was all an act. “My terms aren’t unreasonable.”
“You want our clan in exchange for my sister’s freedom. That won’t happen.”
“Do you think you’ll find her sealskin? I know you’ve been swimming the waters of Boston Harbor and canvassing the streets, searching for it. Your efforts are meaningless. You will never find it.”
The mention of his failure stung, but Riordan refused to rise to the bait. “We’ll find it.”
Niall waved off his words. “You won’t. But I’m willing to make a bargain with you, and I don’t ever offer those lightly. I will trade her sealskin for yours, Riordan, clan chief of Clan Maguire.”
“No,” Donal snapped, taking a threatening step forward.
Casey moved, a blur of preternatural speed that Donal barely dodged. Casey’s claws at the end of his fingertips sank into the wooden tabletop instead of soft flesh. The expression on the god pack alpha’s face never changed, remaining a blank mask. It further reinforced to Riordan that Casey wasn’t there of his own free will, not after Niall’s little speech. Casey retracted his claws and stepped back, still saying nothing. Riordan wondered if he could even speak without Niall’s permission.
“Then your sister stays with me, and if you wish to see her again, you will hand over your clan. If you don’t, you will spend the rest of your lives wondering where she is, how she is doing, if she is alive?—”
“Stop,” Riordan ground out, not liking how Saoirse suddenly bit back a strangled noise that was too close to a sob for him to ignore.
Niall was no longer smiling, brilliant teal-eyed gaze locked on him. “You have options, something I rarely give. Trade your sealskin for your sister’s and hand over your clan. Or keep your freedom and know you will spend the rest of your lives never knowing about hers.”
It wasn’t a bargain; it was a death sentence either way one looked at it, and Niall knew it. Riordan forced his voice steady when he finally spoke, words coming out a rasp. “I need time to think about it.”
“Riordan, no,” Saoirse protested.
“This isn’t a negotiation, so don’t try to change the terms of the bargain,” Niall said.
“Right. It’s more of a hostile takeover,” Donal muttered.
Riordan tipped his head in agreement, never looking away from Niall. “A few more days won’t matter, will it?”
The other fae tilted his wrist and pulled back the sleeve of his suit jacket and the button-down beneath it to check the time on his Rolex. Then he looked at the old woman, and Riordanhalf wondered if he was asking for permission. “You’ve had two weeks. I’ll give you one more.”
