Gifted Thief (Highland Magic #1)(49)

These guys were all about knee-jerk reactions. Maybe I should try harder to borrow Bob’s DS9 box set and force them all to sit down and watch it. They might learn something from Commander Sisko. ‘I suppose I might have once taken revenge on the Bull for making my childhood so miserable. But I’d be more likely to thank him than punch him. If he hadn’t been such a wanker, I might not have left when I did. Then I’d never have met my real family. The ones who count.’ My eyes narrowed accusingly. ‘The ones who you’re messing with.’

Byron cocked his head, gazing at me as if he were trying to work me out. ‘You should never have been placed with him. My father made a mistake, even if he had the best intentions.’

I didn’t want to discuss the past. It was, after all, the past. ‘From what I was told, what happened to my Clan was my father’s fault. And I can’t take revenge on a dead guy.’

Byron stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. ‘You’re not your father,’ he said.

I searched his face. He was telling the truth. Unlike most of the other highborn Sidhe in this place, neither he nor Jamie seemed to care whose daughter I was.

‘Sir? Byron?’ someone interrupted. ‘You’re wanted in the grand hall.’

Both of us turned. It was a nervous-looking pixie who was doing everything he could to avoid eye contact with me. Interesting. Perhaps these people really were afraid of me. I could use that.

‘On my way,’ Byron grunted. He gave me a final glance. ‘I’ll escort you to the grove tomorrow. Until then, try and avoid having sex with anyone else. We don’t need half the castle in love with you.’

I grinned. ‘Why ever not?’

Byron rolled his eyes. ‘By the way, it’s pyrokinesis.’

Puzzled, I stared at him. ‘What is?’

‘My second Gift.’ He touched me lightly on the shoulder and walked out. The pixie ran.

I watched them go, then dropped my head and examined my shoes. I didn’t like the idea of being able to call up fire. Certainly it would have its uses but in this day and age it would be used far more for destruction than anything else. I shivered and thought about Byron’s other comments. Whenever I got answers, I also ended up with more questions. I hadn’t come here to learn about myself, however. I didn’t need new revelations or an emotional growth spurt. I was happy the way I was.

I lifted my chin up and spotted a pretty feather in an inkwell on a table nearby. I picked it up, then whistled. I couldn’t be entirely sure but this looked like it came from the wings of a unicorn. It was priceless. The damned beasts were so hard to catch unawares that unless you were an unblemished virgin, you’d no hope of getting close to one. I grinned to myself. Charlie would give me a good price for it. I shoved it down my top. It tickled my skin but I wasn’t going far. I was Integrity Taylor, thief extraordinaire after all – not Integrity Adair, Clan princess.





Chapter Thirteen




I took one last critical glance in the mirror. It was just as well I’d arrived at the Cruaich well prepared. The hot pink scarf went very well with my black jumpsuit. Topped off with diamante-encrusted sunglasses, I decided l looked more like a footballer’s wife than a shady Sidhe. It wasn’t a bad effort but I didn’t want any of these royal idiots getting the wrong idea and thinking I was a glittery pushover so I also attached my trusty utility belt with my thievery gadgets. Ha! Let them make of that what they would.

‘We need to go now, Integrity,’ Byron drawled from the doorway.

I tapped the scimitar nestled securely in my inner pocket where it would be safely out of sight. ‘You ready for this, Bob?’

There was the tiniest vibration in response. The genie had kept me up half the night with his plans to find an astronaut for his next owner and blast off in a spaceship. I’d let him babble on. It might keep him more focused for the next few days if he felt like he had plans for the future that didn’t involve stubborn Sidhe naysayers.

‘Coming!’ I called, before stepping out to meet Byron. The second I did, I was tempted to duck back into the bathroom and change my clothes. The formal finery he was wearing put me to shame.

‘You look nice,’ he told me politely.

Damned by faint praise. ‘Well, you look like an over-dressed duck,’ I told him, pretending not to notice the way his shirt moulded itself to his torso.

He lifted an eyebrow. ‘Are you suggesting that I’m fowl?’

I stared at him. ‘Did you just make a joke?’

He grinned. ‘It seems like it’s the best way to get your attention.’

Slightly nonplussed, I let him take my arm and lead me out. It was a long way down to the ground floor. Several Sidhe minions and other Clan workers dipped in curtseys and bows as we passed.

‘It must get kind of irritating,’ I muttered, ‘having people do that all the time.’

He gave a short bark of a laugh. ‘They’re not doing it for my benefit.’

I bristled. ‘Well, they’re certainly not doing it for mine. Most of you lot hate me. And one of you is trying to kill me.’

‘I’ve not found any evidence of a plot against you. And nobody hates you.’

We passed by Tipsania, who was wearing an alarmingly low-cut gown. ‘Interior, how are you?’