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“You can’t face Lazarus alone.”
He stooped to snag a rock from the beach. Tumbled it in his hand. Drew his arm back just as a dolphin’s glistening dorsal cut the waves like a blade. “I won’t be alone.”
“You’ll summon the Amhas-draoi?”
With a heave, he chucked the stone as far as it would go. Watched it spin and skip before striking the water and disappearing. “Let’s hope they’re the only force I need to summon.”
He sat at his desk, withdrawing a sheet of foolscap from the drawer. Dipped his pen in the ink, drops spattering the paper like blood.
Once he made up his mind, the words had come quickly. A hasty recounting of all that had happened since fleeing Henry Street. All that might happen if Lazarus gained the diary.
Satisfied, he placed the pen back in its tray. Sanded the letter. Shook it dry. Folded and sealed it, scrawling the direction across the front. Stood to ring for a servant.
Ten minutes to swallow six years of hate and mistrust.
But would it be enough? And would it be in time?
She’d found the burial ground quite by chance. A small square of green amid the sprawling stonework of Belfoyle. Sunken graves bore witness to the earliest Douglas arrivals to this rocky Irish coastline. Most of the stones had been scoured clean over time, a date barely visible here. A name there. She settled herself in front of a rough-cut block of scarred marble, green with moss, chipped at one corner.
Newer than the others. More personal—“beloved infant.”
As she bent to trace the crudely wrought inscription, the air seemed to crystallize around her, an oppressive weight as threatening as the approaching storm.
“I’ve ordered maids to have you packed and ready to leave within the hour.”
She rose and turned in one sweeping regal gesture. Faced Aidan’s flat and unyielding gaze. A body braced for the fight he knew must come.
“You’re sending me away?”
“If you’re no longer able to decipher the diary, your presence is no longer required. I release you from our agreement. Jack will return you to Dublin.”
“I don’t want to go to Dublin.”
“I don’t believe I asked.”
“The roads are dangerous.”
“Belfoyle’s more so.”
“And if I refuse to leave you here to face who knows what?”
Anger flashed in his eyes. “I brought you to Belfoyle in bonds. You can depart the same way.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
Tempting, but she decided against it. He looked more than ready to carry out any and all threats. She retreated. “Fine, but once Jack’s delivered me to the city, then what?”
“I’ve sent him with instructions for my banker. The money will see you settled.”
“Settled as what?”
A storm boiled in his stare. “Any damned thing you please, Cat. Just go the hell away, and leave me be.”
It took her like a punch to the stomach. Quick. Fierce. She fisted her hands at her sides. “Why are you doing this?” she asked quietly.
The storm broke, his rage burning her body like lightning. His glare holding the tempest’s lash, a horrible gale fury pulsing the air. Shaking the blood in her veins.
