Page 40 of Alec

Bodach tried to avoid other dark Fae exiles in the mortal realm, and he knew better than to trust the goblin. At the same time, having a servant from whom he didn’t need to hide his true identity would be rather useful. The fact that Clagden served in law enforcement might even aid him with better protecting the castle until he could retrieve his treasure.

“Very well.” He reached out to grip the goblin’s throat, cutting off his air for a few moments before he allowed him to breathe again. “As long as you serve me well, I’ll allow you time with the mortals you wish to terrify into your food.” He leaned closer. “Betray me, and I’ll personally dine on your worthless flesh. Raw.” He released him.

Clagden dropped down on one knee and kissed the hand he held out. “Yes, Master.”

“Get up and come with me,” Bodach told him. “We have work to do.”

Alec left Olivia to settle in and went to retrieve some bed linens from the nearest storage room. Inside he found a small group of maids huddled around a lamp and whispering. They all fell silent and cowered when he stepped inside, as if they feared he’d attack them.

“I’m no’ the MacBren or his brutes,” he said. “What do you here?”

“Forgive us, War Master,” Una, one of the kitchen maids, said as she and the others curtseyed. She pushed some hair that had escaped from her lace cap, which made her bodice strain over her large breasts. “We but wish to hide from the lockjaw plague.”

“’Tis no such thing.” When none of them responded, he sighed. “If you mean what Elspeth fell sick with, ’tis no’ lockjaw. Something attacked and bespelled her.”

“You cannae be sure.” Una moved closer, which made the hem of her skirts brush against his boots. “None saw what ’twas done to her. We’ve seen no sign of an enchanted beast.”

“Elspeth’s a foreigner,” one of the other maids said. “Mayhap she brought the sickness from those savage lands from whence she came.”

“The lass’s màthair birthed her in Scotland, just as yours did you.” He saw doubt flicker over their faces, and added, “Cruel gossip shall only panic others. In times of trouble, you should aid and protect each other, as does the clan.” He took down the linens from a shelf before he walked out, and then glanced back at them. “Your duties shallnae see to themselves. Get on with you.”

The maids hurried out and scattered in different directions. Only Una lingered, watching him with greedy eyes.

“Need you help making up a bed, War Master?” she asked, and used her arms to push together her breasts in what she doubtless considered a provocative manner.

So often had he tolerated such overtures he hardly noticed them anymore. Only now he imagined what Olivia would have to endure as the male vassals and outsiders strutted about during the final week before the binding ceremony. Would the scullery lads lay in wait for her so they might walk out and pretend to brush up against her? Should he tell them if they did he’d beat them senseless?

“I’d be happy to do anything for you,” Una was saying, her lashes fluttering coyly.

“I dinnae need help of any sort from you,” Alec told her. “Get back to work.”

On the way back to his chamber he dismissed the maid’s clumsy attempt at seduction and instead brooded on how many other vassals had taken to hiding themselves from an imaginary plague. Although everyone well knew they could not grow sick in the spell trap, gossip fueled fears that overwhelmed common sense. He would have to speak to Farlan about the maids and their foolish notions.

As he walked into the bed chamber Alec expected to see Olivia putting away her things, but she didn’t appear to be anywhere. Had she left already? Then a whimper came from behind the box bed, and he dropped the linens and hurried over. There on the ticking he’d wedged between the wall and the bed lay Olivia, all curled up. For a terrible moment he thought she might have been attacked and frozen like the chambermaid, but then she turned toward him and made a soft sound of distress.

Carefully Alec knelt down and crawled onto the thin ticking, stretching out beside her. She immediately reached for him, her hands clutching at his tunic, yet she didn’t wake.

“You’re safe now, lass,” he told her. “I’m here with you. Naught shall harm you as long as I draw breath.”

The trap had her in its thrall, he realized. Often outsiders had no idea of how vivid dreams could become here, thanks to a strange effect of the enchantment. A few had lain senseless for several days, so caught up in their dreams that they could not awaken until someone put a vial with salt of hartshorn under their nose.

“Hurry,” Olivia whispered, still asleep.

He gathered her against him, stroking her arms and back with his hands and making low, gentle soothing noises. Soon her shivering stopped, and she nestled closer, her fingers still tightly gripping hold of him. That in turn calmed him, as if their moods had become somehow linked. He could not fathom how she had such sway over him, or why, but he was grateful. She had become his glen of quiet and peace in this ever-aggravating world, and he regretted leaving her alone for even a moment.

I regret I didnae strangle you the moment you came squalling out of that trollop I once named daughter. I may yet, while you sleep.

Triggering the memory of yet another vicious threat hurled at him in boyhood made Alec’s belly sour. Too many remained locked in his head, for he’d never been able to forget the old man who had made his early life such a misery. Indeed, every word that had come out of his grandsire’s mouth danced on the edges of his thoughts, ever ready to torment him a second, third, or hundredth time. Although the old bastart had been dead now for centuries, Alec still found himself expecting a hard blow every time he awoke.

Olivia murmured something and slid her hand up against his neck, her fingers caressing.

“Make me forget, dreòlan.” Alec closed his eyes, breathing in the soft sweet scent of her until all the tension drained from his limbs. “Take me away from the cares and worries of this place. Be with me somewhere ’tis only us.”

Olivia knew she shouldn’t have looked through Alec’s things, but when she found the weapons he’d hidden all over the room her eyes stung. He had concealed so many knives that he could reach one no matter where he stood. She didn’t move or take anything as she went over to sit on the bed he’d brought in for her.

What kind of childhood had he endured that he would want a blade always within reach?

She lay back, thinking about the times he had held her in his arms. Then, too, she had detected what she had assumed were straps under his sleeves and across his back and chest. Now she wondered if he had dozens of blades strapped to his body under his clothes, and what it must have been like for him to only be comfortable that way.