“Hopefully after the first incarnation of me has been dragged away by that bloody bastard down the way.”
Derrick smiled. “Say that to his face.”
“I damn well already did!”
“Jamie’s heard worse, I’m certain. So you’ll set off a distraction, do a little snatch and grab, then what? Does she know when you were born?”
Oliver nodded. “She’s been here several times.”
“And you like her?”
Oliver scowled at him. “Are we having this conversation now?”
“It is, without a doubt, the most fascinating conversation we’ve ever had.”
“I’m not talking to you any more.”
Derrick smiled. “As you say, of course. Pick your distraction in silence, then, and I’ll help you pack it appropriately.”
Oliver looked over what was there, exchanged a handful of looks with Derrick over choices to be made, then decided whatever would be left behind could perhaps become another legend that Uncle Lachlan would start by announcing that the faeries had been at it again. At minimum, a pair of mortars would be better than taking his chances with bottle rockets that might cost him fingers.
Derrick held up two fingers and lifted an eyebrow.
Oliver mouthed a friendly curse at him, then sighed. “Better safe than sorry, I imagine.”
“Cut the fuses to the right lengths and run quickly enough between the two and you could send them scattering in different directions, though that might not serve you very well.”
“I imagine the clan will think the world is ending whatever I manage to do,” Oliver said grimly. “Perhaps that bastard going around examining innocent people for devil’s marks will run off to hide in a cave for the duration of the apocalypse and die of starvation.”
“I think you’d be doing the world a service,” Derrick agreed.
Oliver looked at him seriously. “Don’t tell Jamie.”
“He’ll know anyway,” Derrick said wisely. “He’ll blame you loudly, but don’t think he won’t agree silently.”
“I should have been nosier about her details before now,” Oliver said grimly.
“The worst thing about you, my lad, is that you have such a finely honed sense of propriety. There’s privacy, of course, then there’s privacy that could get you killed.”
Oliver shot him a look. “Like you know the difference.”
“I’m talking about you.”
“Iknow the difference!”
“That’s the problem.”
Oliver rolled his eyes. “Go away.”
“Heading out now.” Derrick rose, flicked him companionably on the ear on his way by, and opened the door.
“Thank Cameron for the haste,” Oliver called before Derrick managed to shut the door behind him.
“Will do,” came the answer that trailed off into silence.
Oliver might have worried about that silence, but he heard the helicopter soon take off to no doubt ferry Derrick safely back to Cameron Hall. The silence that then descended wasn’t merely a lack of sound. It felt heavy somehow, as if the world waited for something terrible to happen.
He shook his head at his own ridiculous thoughts, pushed himself to his feet, and went to finish his search for leftovers.
