Last Wish (Highland Magic #4)(38)

I paused to peer through the windows. The car was spick and span; I’d find no clues there.

I started running again. I’d never been here – at least, not that I could remember – so I was travelling blind. Taylor had always maintained the importance of preparation when making an incursion and I’d always stuck to that rule but these were special circumstances. I pushed away the voice that told me I was being reckless and acting out of character and kept on going.

The Moncrieffe castle was lit by two flickering torches near the heavy, studded main door. I couldn’t see any other lights in the windows; with their crappy finances, the Moncrieffes were probably trying to cut back on the electricity bill. Perhaps Aifric considered financial fraud beneath him, even if mass murder was acceptable.

I debated whether to open the door, slip inside and take on whatever came my way but it was too much of a risk. And there was always another way in. Always.

I darted to my left. There was a bank of windows along the eastern side, all firmly closed. It didn’t matter; Scottish architecture always included a handy back door. I’d nip in through there.

I ran softly round the outskirts of the castle, taking care to duck and roll every time I passed a window in case someone happened to spot me flying past. I zipped round the corner, my confidence growing when I saw a small door built into the back wall. Easy-peasy.

I tugged on the handle. Nothing happened so I tugged again. Arse. I couldn’t even find a suitable lock to pick; the bloody door was bolted on the other side in several places. Not insurmountable, but it would take time I didn’t have. Maybe it was locked because Aifric knew someone could finagle their way in past the border and massacre everyone inside. After all, he’d done that himself to my Clan. Then I reminded myself that the Bull’s back door had been locked too. I was over-thinking.

I pulled back, looking around for another entrance. If Byron had sneaked in here, he had to have entered the castle somehow. It was his childhood home so he’d be well aware of every nook and cranny, unlike a stranger like me. I was, however, a gifted thief; if there was another entrance through which I could slip in unnoticed, I’d find it.

I abandoned the far side of the castle in favour of the western-facing wall. This structure was simple, little more than a square. That narrowed down my options and meant I wouldn’t waste time wandering around exterior alcoves. When I rounded the last corner and spied a window which was ajar on the first floor, I finally smiled. Good enough.

I positioned myself directly underneath, bending my knees slightly before springing up. The walls were smooth and there were no helpful footholds. I managed to curve my fingers over the sill and used sheer strength and will power to pull myself up, nudging the window open further with my elbow so I could slip inside. I flipped over in an unnecessary somersault ? but one which I felt the situation called for – and landed on my feet facing the room. A second later, a hand slammed across my mouth and a muscled arm tightened across my chest, holding me in place.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Byron growled in my ear.

Shite.





Chapter Nine


I struggled against his grip but, when it was clear he was far too strong and I was never going to get clear, I let my body relax. He was a lot more tense than I was. I might have fallen for the oldest trick in the book and wandered in through the only entrance to the castle because it had been left open for me to do just that, but my one advantage was that he didn’t want anyone to know he was here. He was on his own and wanted things to remain that way, which gave me some breathing room. Anyway, he’d probably have learned sooner or later that I was still alive; at least this way I might get some answers about what was really going on.

Unable to speak with his hand clamped over my mouth, and confident that he’d realise that soon enough, I waited for him to release me. As soon as he did, I spun round to face him. The expression on his face wasn’t the stunned epiphany that I’d been expecting; instead he was glaring at me with a malevolence that shone from every pore of his body. ‘Who hired you?’ he demanded. ‘Was it my father?’

For a moment I was totally confused. Why would Aifric hire me? I was his sworn enemy and, anyway, he thought I was dead. Then I realised that I’d been so focused on Byron and what he was up to that the Illusion I was Chardonnay was still in place. Byron thought I was the stripper. Well, wasn’t I a prize idiot? I’d needlessly wasted almost all that magic.

‘No,’ I said softly, ‘he didn’t.’ I stepped forward until I was inches away from him. ‘Byron…’

He snarled something under his breath and side-stepped as if he were afraid of me. He flexed his fingers. ‘I could snap your neck like a twig,’ he spat. ‘So start talking before I do you some damage.’

I almost grinned. I could believe a great deal of Byron: I could believe he wanted to marry Tipsania to get the money his Clan needed so badly; I could believe he was now working with his father against Candy; I could even believe he was sneaking into his own house even though I didn’t know why. But I couldn’t believe he was that kind of violent person. He’d threaten and bluster but he wouldn’t physically hurt me. Not to that extent anyway.

His voice was low and dangerous. ‘Are you amused?’ His fury seemed to grow. ‘Do I amuse you?’ He flicked his wrist, sending out a stream of magic in my direction that bound itself round my chest and lifted me into the air. I hovered there, still wearing the ridiculous police uniform. ‘I don’t have time for this,’ he muttered, as much to himself as to me.