Callie quickly joined them. She gave Sin a cup of her potion and held a bucket.
Sin forced the putrid smelling liquid down Simon and waited until his friend had emptied the contents of his stomach into her container.
All the while Sin raged inside that someone had stooped so low to kill him. And that poor Simon had been innocently caught in the crossfire.
Callie tended Simon as best she could. He still looked pale and weak, and she prayed they had gotten the poison out of his system in time for it to do no lasting damage. “Who could have done this?”
A tic beat in Sin’s jaw. “Obviously one of your rebels.”
“But why Simon?” she asked, not understanding why anyone would want to harm a man so kind.
“He ate the cake intended for me, Callie.”
Her heart shrank at the thought. Nay, it couldn’t be. After today she had thought her clan was warming up to her husband. Great saints, he had saved Fraser’s life. Why would anyone hurt Sin after what he’d done earlier?
“Who?”
Sin didn’t answer. “Stay here and watch over him. I will send word to his brother.”
She nodded, but in her eyes he could see the doubt she held. The pain. God have mercy on her, but by her face he could tell she couldn’t grasp the horror of what someone had done.
Unfortunately, he could.
Angry and needing vengeance, Sin left the room and headed below.
Once he reached the hall, he saw that the party had dispersed. Only a few people remained in the hall. His brothers, Aster and Angus.
“How’s the lad?” Aster asked.
“We don’t know yet.”
The looks on his brother’s face was one of hell-wrath. “They meant to get you, didn’t they?”
“I would assume so.”
Ewan popped his knuckles. “Then I say ‘tis time we conked a few heads. What say you, brothers? Ready to beat the devil?”
“Not yet,” Sin said. “I have something I need to do first.” He looked to Aster. “Have you seen Morna around? I have a quick question for her.”
“She was headed to the kitchen last I saw.”
“My thanks.” Sin went after her.
By the time he reached the kitchens, she was making ready to leave.
She looked up, startled as he came through the door.
In that instant, Sin knew. The nervous way she looked about, her instant unease.
“Where is he?” Sin asked.
“Who?”
“Dermot.”
Her face grew even paler. Her hands trembled all the more. “Why would you be asking that?”
“Morna,” he said, laying his hand gently on her arm to reassure her, “this is serious. It was bad enough when he had me shot with the arrow, but now an innocent man may die because he wants to play hero to his people.”
