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She nodded, allowing him to guide her limp body. Leaning against him was like leaning against a tree. Solid. Unwavering. Though no tree she’d encountered had ever sent a tingly pleasantness buzzing up through her center. Or a warm blush touching her cheeks.
At the door, he paused, leaving her to reenter the office. Bent to blow out the candle. For a long moment, he stood in the dark, staring round him, shoulders braced.
“Daigh? We should go. You don’t belong here.”
“You’re right, Sabrina,” he muttered. “I don’t belong here. That’s the only thing I do know for certain.”
Pinching out the tiny flame of her candle, Sabrina closed her diary, having answered none of the questions scurrying through her brain like mice in a cluttered attic. Instead, putting her thoughts to paper only added to the bewildering array of puzzles. Daigh at the heart of every one like the center of some great black storm cloud. Who was he? What event in his past had caused the brutal scarring of his body? Why did he insist he knew her? Why was she suddenly experiencing flashes of another, armored Daigh? What was he doing in Ard-siúr’s office? Had he told her the truth about the memory? What was he hiding? And why did she have the eerie premonition that events closed in around them? Dragging her into his orbit whether she willed it or not?
“Jane?” Sabrina whispered. “Are you awake?”
A grumpy mumble floated up out of the dark. “I am now.”
“May I ask you a question?”
“You’ve already asked two. Three’s my limit for the middle of the night.”
“Have you noticed anything unusual about Daigh MacLir?”
“Everything about the man is unusual. Can I go back to sleep now?”
“No. Listen. Ever since he arrived, I feel as if he holds some importance to me. And I to him.”
Jane heaved a sigh. The mattress creaking as she rolled over. “He’s got the devil’s own looks and watches you with that possessive midnight stare of his. Have you never sensed desire before?”
Sabrina squirmed beneath her blankets, her body awake to sensations she couldn’t put a name to. “It’s more than that. He breaches all my barriers. No matter what I do, I can’t keep him out. And twice now, there’s been more. I caught a glimpse of something. A vision. But it vanished so quickly I couldn’t tell you what I saw or if I even really saw it. It was Daigh, but it wasn’t. He w
as dressed oddly. From another time. Another age. And then tonight—”
“So you woke me up to tell me you may or may not have seen something or nothing.”
“Well, when you put it like that . . .”
“You’re tired, Sabrina. You work too much and sleep too little. It’s no wonder you’re hallucinating. Sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
Practical, sensible Jane, the gods love her. “And his insistence in thinking he knows me? That he’s met me before?”
A grumble that had nothing complimentary about it and then another heavy sigh. “He was pulled from the ocean full of seawater and with no pulse. I’d not trust anything he contends.”
“So you think he’s mistaken?”
“Have you met him before?”
“No.”
“Ever laid eyes on him at all?”
“I don’t think so.”
“There. Now sleep. You and I have to be up at dawn. Good night, Sabrina.”
She lay back, hands behind her head. Stared up into the ceiling, a nagging annoyance tickling the edge of her consciousness before snapping into place. “Of course,” she exclaimed. “His eyes. That was the difference. His eyes were green, not black.”
“Green, black, or polka dots, go to sleep already,” Jane moaned.
Teresa’s grouchy voice interrupted from the last bed in the row. “I’ll just be happy when Daigh MacLir leaves, and we can all go back to normal.”
Sabrina shut her mouth, forcing herself to lie still. Even absent, Daigh played havoc on her senses. What was happening to her? Why was she feeling this way? And why did a return to normal now seem like the last thing she wanted?
