Stone Cold Seduction

Chapter Thirteen

I watched MacLean’s expression go from worried to guarded in an instant.

“We need to talk.” The deep voice came from behind me. I didn’t turn around.

I laughed, the sound devoid of humor. “No, Jax, we don’t. We have about an hour until our flight leaves, and that’s not nearly enough time for us to talk about everything we need to.”

I wasn’t interested in having an audience, either, when I asked Jax about meeting him when I was a powerless teenager, but I didn’t want MacLean to leave me yet. He made me feel comfortable.

“Elle.” Teryl stepped around the bench. “We can talk about anything that’s bothering you, but you can’t take off like that.”

I kept my voice low, but fury ripped through my words. “Nothing’s what I think it is. Not anymore. And none of you seem to appreciate I’m running blind here. I have a grand total of two memories now. That’s it. I’m developing abilities that I don’t know what to do with, and all of you talk over my head like I’m too dumb or too fragile to handle it.”

“I don’t think that,” Teryl said, using his most reasonable voice. “But I do think you’ve had a lot dumped on you these last few days. People want you dead. If you weren’t freaked out, then I’d be worried.”

I wasn’t interested in reason. I wanted honesty.

Jax’s deep voice held steady as he walked around the bench to stand in front of me, but his eyes were turbulent. “This is a discussion I would prefer to have privately.”

MacLean spoke in a business-like voice. “You don’t have time for heart-to-heart talks with anyone. Right now, you have to get to Carys. Bottom line. I called a few of my contacts. Your mom was a demigod.”

Well, that derailed my righteous indignation. It also made it easy to ignore Jax and give my full attention to MacLean. “How do you, or they, know that?”

MacLean’s copper eyes softened for a moment. “They knew her before she had you. I wish I could tell you more, but they asked to remain anonymous. And there’s more.”

“Wait. Give me a second here. My mom was a demigod. What does that mean?”

“It means your maternal grandmother or grandfather was a god.”

Great. I could only imagine how screwed up that family dynamic would be. I hadn’t heard one good thing about these gods yet.

I had to learn to roll with these revelations, but my mind was going in circles. With each development, I had more questions than answers. It was time to make a decision. “Until I talk to Carys, I just don’t want to know any more.”

“Elle.” Teryl said my name like he was gearing up for a lecture.

“No, Teryl. I mean it. So far, what you have and haven’t told me has given me nothing but a headache.” And heartache, I thought. I ruthlessly pushed the thought from my head. “Unless my life is in immediate danger, keep it to yourselves.”

“Your life is in immediate danger,” Teryl replied quietly.

Irritation tightened my shoulders, and I bit the inside of my cheek. Deep breath in. Big breath out. “Let me clarify. Unless a knife, bullet, or nuclear bomb is inches from my head, don’t tell me. Even then, don’t tell me. I need to talk to Carys. Until I talk to her, there’s not a damn thing I can do about any of the rest of this.”

I put two hands on MacLean’s forearm. “My mom is dead. I appreciate your looking into her demigod status for me, but I really can’t do anything with that information. I’m not about to look up her family, for obvious reasons.” And I highly doubted we’d start exchanging Christmas cards or doing family picnics.

I refused to look at Jax. He was at the top of my shit list right now. I got up and tossed my empty coffee cup in the garbage and brushed my hands on my pants. “Jaxon West, I respect your secrets and your past. But when they directly impact me, as your mate”—I let the word drip with sarcasm—“I expect you to be honest and tell me.”

MacLean didn’t give Jax a chance to respond. “I understand. I wanted you to know about your demigod status because…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I’m a demigod, too? How does that work? I mean, I really couldn’t be more than a quarter-god, could I?”

None of the guys laughed. They just kept their stony faces and their secrets.

“Guess no one is going to answer that one, either, huh? That’s okay, I don’t need to know right now, anyway. Carys is my priority.”

The problems piling up outweighed my curiosity and desire to know more. By a long shot.

What I desperately wanted was a hot shower, twelve straight hours of sleep, and, more importantly, a little breathing room.

The memory of meeting Jax had brought up one other uncomfortable reminder: how much I had cared for MacLean. And it hadn’t been a school girl’s crush. MacLean was my first love.

Could the timing be any worse? Probably not.

“Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I need to wash my hands.”

I needed to get away from the scent of MacLean, the weight of Jax’s stare, and the knowing eyes of my best friend. The ladies room seemed a good place to avoid men.

If Maura showed up this time, I would happily handle it myself.

§

By the time we boarded our final flight, I hadn’t spoken another word to any of them. It was a matter of hours until I met Carys, and a feeling of calm and foreboding settled over me. It was an odd combination. I was calm because at this point, my only other option was hysterics. I was too tired for that. However, I also felt uneasy. I knew that meeting Carys would change my life irrevocably. The question was, for better or for worse?

Despite my misgivings, I tried to catch a nap before we touched down in Inverness. MacLean was to my right, Jax to my left. I did my best to ignore them both. It was brutal. I could smell Jax’s icy, clean scent and the warm, spicy scent of MacLean. I had to work to remember I was pissed at both of them.

I wanted to turn to them for comfort and advice, but I couldn’t. This was my problem, and I wasn’t sure if they were part of the solution. They were starting to feel more like part of the problem. What bothered me was my complicated history with MacLean, and the fact that I’d met Jax when I was a teenager. He’d taken me to bed this weekend, but he hadn’t trusted me enough to tell me he used to work for my father, or what kind of history they shared.

I slipped in and out of a fitful sleep. Brief, fractured dreams invaded my rest. Images of MacLean touching my cheek, Jax holding me, Luke hunting me.

I couldn’t wait to get off the plane by the time we touched down in Inverness. It was Thursday night, and I was starving, but that sense of urgency to meet with Carys was strong. I found my luggage and turned to Teryl. “How long will it take to get to Carys’ house?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

My mouth dropped open. “She lives that far away?”

“No, we can’t go until tomorrow morning.”

“Um, no. That doesn’t work for me. We just flew all the way across the world to meet her. I’m not waiting.” I gripped my suitcase tighter and lifted my chin.

Jax came to stand beside me, suitcase in hand. “If you want a good chance at receiving your fate, you will. Carys will expect you to follow tradition. You will approach her in the morning and offer your token. Not before.”

“Argh!” I tilted my head back and stared at the terminal ceiling. “This is ridiculous. Your traditions suck.”

I don’t know why I’d expected this part of the trip to suddenly get easy.

Wishful thinking?

“Why don’t we drop off our stuff at our hotel, and then get some dinner?” MacLean suggested. I rolled my shoulders in a semblance of a shrug, but didn’t say anything. No way was I waiting until tomorrow morning to get my fate.

I followed behind MacLean and Teryl, with Jax bringing up the rear. Weary to the bone, I kept my eyes on the floor in front of me. A blast of icy wind nearly knocked the breath out of me when we stepped outside.

Jax inhaled in appreciation. “I love the fresh air here.”

Apprehension kept me from taking too deep of a breath. I decided to stay quiet and wait while Jax went to get our rental. As I shivered, I wished Carys could have lived somewhere like Hawaii or the Caribbean. My body and brain could have used a boost from the sun. Things might not have seemed so bleak.

I paid little attention to the drive to the hotel. Teryl kept up a running monologue and didn’t seem to notice when no one joined in. Jax was his usual, quiet self, and even MacLean seemed preoccupied.

I tuned in long enough to hear Teryl say, “We should take time to find Nessie.”

“Nessie?” I asked.

“Yeah, the Loch Ness monster.”

I rolled my eyes and stared out the window. Mind carefully blank, I watched the passing buildings in a blur. Because it was night, they were little more than dark, hulking shapes. Stifling a sigh, I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes.

Teryl’s next words got my attention fast.

“I’ve heard Carys has a cottage on the Isle of Skye.”

Jax made a sound of agreement.

Teryl went on. “I know she’s got quite the reputation with the locals. Some love her, some fear her. But everyone knows her.”

Skye. I had to get to Skye.

Jax maneuvered the car through the streets and pulled up in front of an impressive stone building. The Royal Hotel. I’d guessed we’d be staying in a small bed and breakfast, but this place was huge.

I walked into a grand foyer with a huge, curving staircase. I heard MacLean whistle under his breath. Teryl echoed the sentiment. We all gawked while Jax checked us in. An exquisite glass chandelier hung above us, with thousands of sparkling crystal drops.

I heard the lilting Scottish brogue coming from muted conversations around the lobby. Personal crisis aside, I was impressed.

Jax walked over with two keys and handed one to Teryl. “Our rooms are on the second floor. You and MacLean are in room fifty-two. Elle and I are in room fifty-one.”

MacLean’s eyes sparked and I braced for an argument. But he surprised me and turned to Teryl. “If there are bunk beds, you get the top.”

The corners of my mouth twitched. He’d always had a great sense of humor. Which was a sobering thought. Twelve years ago, there hadn’t been anything about MacLean that I didn’t like.

Just then, I noticed Jax watching me, with a strange look on his face. “I’m ready,” I said, gesturing toward the staircase.

Without a word, he walked off, leaving me to follow behind. That suited me just fine. I watched him stride up the stairs. Desire fluttered in my stomach. No matter how much he frustrated me, Jax was gorgeous. What that man did to jeans…

Our room was opulent. A large, four-poster bed dominated the room. Two antique dressers and a floral, antique chair gave it an old-fashioned feel. Thankfully, the bathroom was modern. I set my suitcase next to the dresser on the far side of the bed and sat down in the chair next to it.

“We can eat in the lounge downstairs,” Jax said, his deep voice soft.

“I’m not very hungry.”

“You need to eat. Tomorrow—”

“I want to go to sleep,” I interrupted. A big yawn caught me by surprise, but the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. “Jet lag is catching up to me.”

Jax sighed, and set his suitcase aside. “I’ll bring you something, then.”

“Do I need to worry about the hunters?” I wanted to make sure. If they showed up in the next few hours, I’d be dead.

Jax shook his head. “No. On the drive here, Teryl said they were all in or near London.”

Maybe I should have paid more attention to Teryl’s ramblings on the drive here. At least I knew I had a little time. “Okay, well, I’m going to get some rest.” Another yawn cut off anything else I might have said.

Silver eyes flared for a moment. He seemed to be waiting. I wasn’t ready to have any sort of serious conversation. Not now. Not before I lost my nerve.

I wanted him to leave, but didn’t dare try to use mind control. No matter how angry I got, I wouldn’t resort to that.

“Rest well, little gem.” It was a whispered caress. I avoided his gaze, and listened as the sound of his footsteps took him out of the room. When the door closed behind him, I hopped up and ran over to listen.

“Where’s Elle?” I heard Teryl ask. The door was made of hard wood, but the walls were paper thin.

“She’s tired and resting,” Jax replied.

I heard MacLean’s voice, but couldn’t make out his words as they moved farther down the hall. I needed a change of clothes, some money, and the token. The visit to Carys would happen tonight. I wasn’t going to wait another hour, let alone another day.

I threw my suitcase on the bed and grabbed a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved top. A shower would have been heaven, but I didn’t have time. I quickly changed and grabbed my purse, scanning the contents.

Token? Check. Money? Check. Cell phone? Check.

Nerves? Shaky, at best. But I had to do this.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

I was as ready as I’d ever be.

I managed to make it to the front desk with no sign of the guys. If I got caught, I would tell them I’d changed my mind and wanted dinner. Hopefully, I wouldn’t get caught. I was pretty sure they’d all freak out when they realized I was gone. Teryl would be able to find me, but by his own admission, he could only do an approximate guess, and it would be within thirty minutes of when I’d last been there. I’d take all of the head start I could get.

Pasting a smile on my face, I approached the front desk clerk. “Hi, I was wondering if you could help me. My friends went out to dinner, and I decided to head over to Skye by myself. What’s the best way for me to get there?”

The clerk was an older gentleman. I put him in his mid-fifties. His smile was open and friendly, and he had a strong, Scottish brogue. “This time of night, you’ll need to take a taxi.” He called one for me, and told me to be careful.

I smiled and thanked him. He had no idea how careful I needed to be.

There weren’t many people out and about as I waited out front for the taxi. I could hear music and laughter spilling out from the pub across the street. I sat on the stone steps, while a dozen different scenarios whirled through my mind.

When the taxi finally pulled up, I was having second thoughts. My legs felt like lead as I slid into the back seat and asked the driver to take me to Skye.

“Where in Skye?”

Good question. I didn’t have an address or a clue where to start looking. If what Teryl said was true, Carys would know I was coming. So, I smiled and said, “The best pub you know of.”

He laughed and took off. I settled back into my seat, and the fake smile dropped off my face.

I gazed at the black waters of Loch Ness as the taxi traveled over the Skye Bridge, which connected Scotland to the Isle of Skye. The water looked sinister in the dark of the night. Trepidation shivered down my spine and I tried to shake it off. It was too late to turn back. I leaned my head against the cool window as the taxi lumbered its way through the streets. How long would it take me to find her?

All I could hope for was enough of a head start to get there before the guys noticed I was gone. And before the hunters arrived.

I rubbed at my chest. I’d forgotten about the bond. What if Jax felt it, too? The dull, persistent ache became more pronounced as the miles passed. I silently prayed for enough time. I had to do this on my own. I wanted to talk to Carys without the overwhelming presence of the testosterone trio.

After two hours of driving, which was two hours too long to be alone with my thoughts, the taxi pulled in front of a pub with people lingering outside. “Here you are, lass. The best pub on the Isle.”

I pulled out a few big bills to cover the fare and a generous tip. “Thank you.”

He tipped his cap and drove off. I watched the taxi’s taillights until they winked out of sight. My last escape route was gone.

A few people walked in and out of the front door of the pub, laughing and talking in their lovely accents. I couldn’t prevent a small smile when I saw two men in kilts.

“Elleodora Fredricks?”

I froze, hearing footsteps come up behind me. The female voice was unfamiliar. The accent was Scottish, so I knew it wasn’t Maura. Still, that didn’t make me feel better.

I slowly turned, pivoting on my heel. The woman behind me was about my age. She had short, blonde hair, cropped in a pixie cut. Thin as a reed, she stood an inch or two shorter than I am. The darkness obscured most of her features, but I could feel the weight of her gaze.

“Elleodora Fredricks?” she repeated.

“Yes,” I replied, waiting.

“You’re here to see Carys.”

I nodded. “How did you…”

She turned and walked away at a brisk pace.

“…know?” I finished. With a shrug, I followed. So far, this was easy.

She stopped in front of a car and with a curt wave, gestured me to the passenger side. “Get in.”

“Not a chance. Who are you?”

“Gwen,” was the brusque response.

I didn’t move.

She heaved a sigh and folded her arms across her chest in obvious agitation. “There is not time to waste. My mother wants to meet you, and it must be now.”

“Carys is your mom?”

“Yes, now get in.” She opened her door and got behind the wheel, her movements impatient.

I obliged and slid into the passenger seat of the small car. Gwen didn’t say another word. Her driving was quick and efficient.

“So,” I said, hoping to break the ice, “you must be an oracle, too.”

She cut me a disgusted look, then her eyes went back to the road.

Okay, then. “I hope your mom doesn’t mind my late visit.”

“She has been waiting for you.” I saw Gwen look in her rear view mirror, then back to the road. “She would have come to get you herself, but she doesn’t leave the house.” She stopped and pressed her lips together.

I desperately wanted to ask, why not? Instead, I said, “Thank you for picking me up.”

She pulled in front of a small cottage, and hit the brakes with a little more force than necessary. “Don’t thank me. I did this for my mother. I wish you were still in America. You don’t belong here.”

Well, that was blunt.

She flung her door open and jumped out.

It was too late for me to waste energy on regrets, but this wasn’t going at all like I’d planned.

Gwen walked around the front of the car and stared at the cottage. “Something’s wrong,” she whispered.

I stared at the cottage, too. It was one and a half stories, and was made of stone. A dim light shone in a side window, but the rest of the place was dark. She walked slowly up the stone path, then stopped and tilted her head, like she was listening for something.

“What is it?” I whispered. I didn’t hear or see anything.

“Someone was here.” Her voice wavered.

Dread tightened my chest.

Gwen moved to the front door and pushed it open. “Mother?” she called, her voice loud, but tentative.

I stood right behind her, gazing into the small cottage. The furnishings were modern and pretty. There was definitely a feminine touch to the décor, and the small living space was charming. Or it would have been, under different circumstances.

We both jumped at the loud thump, like the sound of a door slamming. Gwen started running through the house, toward the back, and I followed on her heels. We skidded to a stop in the small, open kitchen. The back door was still shaking on its hinges.

A low, keening wail filled the room. Bile rose in my throat and blackness swam at the edge of my vision. I blindly reached for the wall, needing the support.

A woman sprawled face down on the floor in the middle of the small kitchen. Long, silvery blonde hair spilled around her in a tangled mess. Her long, green dress was twisted around her.

Gwen was on her knees beside the woman, shaking her. “Mother! No! Wake up!”

Blood pooled underneath the woman. Her hands were curled into fists and she lay at an awkward angle, like she had crumpled and fallen where she stood. I could only see the side of her face, and her eyes were closed. She looked like she could have been sleeping, but there was too much blood.

Nausea rose, and I turned away and stumbled back toward the front door, leaving Gwen with her grief. I ran blindly out of the house, sucking in air as I began to hyperventilate.

Déjà vu crawled over me, in the most horrific of forms. It was exactly like my mother, minus the bullet hole through the forehead. I didn’t know where Carys’ blood had come from. Maybe she’d been shot in the back. Maybe she’d been bashed in the back of the head.

Maybe I was going to vomit. Now.

Bent over at the waist, I barely noticed when a hand gently rubbed my back. I could hear footsteps rush past us and into the house. Male voices mixed with Gwen’s sobs.

“Damn it, Elle, why’d you have to come by yourself?”

I slowly straightened and blinked at Teryl, my eyes wet with tears. “Carys is dead.”

And somehow, I knew it was my fault.