Last Wish (Highland Magic #4)

He pushed back his hood, displaying his face for the first time. His good looks were marred by several ugly bruises. I couldn’t be sure but it also looked as if his nose was broken. The dark shadows round his neck suggested that his croaky voice wasn’t down to an overly energetic karaoke session. ‘Yes,’ he said pleasantly, ‘I am.’

Truth. I relaxed slightly. During the Sidhe Games the previous year, I’d inadvertently stolen all of Kirsty Kincaid’s Truth-Seeking Gift. The action had almost killed her, although she was relieved when she discovered what had happened because she’d found being able to separate truth from lies too onerous a burden. So far, I was finding her Gift very useful. All the same, I wasn’t about to let my guard down entirely.

‘How did you know?’ I asked. ‘How did you know that I was still alive?’

Fergus’s mouth lifted into a half-smile, revealing two chipped front teeth. He had indeed been in the wars. Curiouser and curiouser. ‘A certain green-eyed assassin,’ he said. I stiffened. There was no way that Chandra had given me up. ‘She undertook a perilous job to kill a certain Sidhe and yet, despite the obvious dangers, she abandoned her team to complete the murder alone.’ He shifted his weight. ‘She could have killed this Sidhe on a previous occasion but she chose not to because they were old friends. However, weeks later, she changed her mind and suddenly assassinated her bestie in full view of the Moncrieffe heir and his mate.’ His smile grew. ‘And a couple of Fomori demons. I’m told this assassin still has no trouble sleeping.’ Fergus shrugged. ‘I like puzzles. And this one was easy to solve.’

I tried to breathe normally. ‘Who else knows?’

‘I’ve not told anyone, if that’s what you mean. As to who else is as intelligent as I am and has managed to work it out, I couldn’t say.’

It was difficult to intimidate someone when they couldn’t see you but I still tried. I hardened my voice and crossed my arms. ‘Yes, you can. You’ve proved you’re intelligent enough.’

Fergus nodded smugly. ‘Yeah, alright, you’ve got me there. I don’t believe anyone else has put two and two together. Not with the state Byron Moncrieffe has been in. He’s been marching up and down the Highlands and growling at anyone who so much as glances in his direction.’ He smirked. ‘Your boy is hurting.’

Pain stabbed at my heart. The urge to leap through the border and grab Fergus by his blood-stained lapels and demand he tell me everything he knew about Byron was almost overwhelming but I had to act responsibly. My role demanded it. ‘You’ve been in a fight,’ I observed, glad that my voice remained tremor-free. ‘Tell me about it.’

‘I’d love to. But, Chieftain, why don’t you let me inside first? You promised me sanctuary.’

‘I promised sanctuary in the event of more Fomori attacks,’ I pointed out. ‘I don’t believe they’ve ventured across the Veil since I died.’

‘You’re nit-picking.’ Fergus stepped forward, letting the bike drop to the ground. His features were clearer now that he was closer to the flickering torches and I realised how pale he was. He was in considerable pain. ‘I need asylum.’ He swayed slightly.

Alarmed as I was by his condition, I still needed to know more. I couldn’t afford to be soft-hearted. ‘Why?’

‘I might have slightly irritated the Innes Chieftain.’

‘Go on.’

Fergus’s eyes were growing unfocused. ‘I might have met his only daughter in a Dundee nightclub. And I might have taken her back to my place.’ He paused and shrugged ruefully. ‘She had fun but Daddy Dearest is less than impressed. Our Sidhe overlords don’t like the idea of their bloodlines being tainted.’

Tiring of the conversation, Sorley waggled his spear. ‘I suggest we keep him outside the border until we can be sure, Chieftain.’

‘Let him in,’ I said. ‘He’s telling the truth.’

Sorley’s heavy bottom lip jutted out. He did as I bade, however, gesturing to two other trolls who took hold of Fergus by the arms to help him.

‘Bring him up to the mansion,’ I said. ‘At least Taylor will be kept busy for a while.’ My old mentor was no surgeon but he did possess some sterling first-aid skills.

‘Wait,’ Fergus whispered. ‘There’s something else.’ His eyes fixed on a patch of ground to my right; I was, after all, still invisible. ‘I was right before, wasn’t I? Tipsania Scrymgeour is here.’

I took a leap of faith. ‘She is.’

Fergus chuckled softly. ‘Is her dress ready?’

Confused, I asked, ‘What do you mean?’ His jaw worked in response. Judging by his pupils, he was on the verge of passing out. ‘Fergus!’ I demanded. ‘What do you mean?’

‘The invitations have gone out,’ he said. ‘Her wedding to Byron Moncrieffe is happening in thirteen days’ time.’

I drew back. What? That didn’t make any sense. I opened my mouth to question Fergus some more but his head dropped forward. He was already out for the count. Shite.





Chapter Two


‘He’s still unconscious,’ Taylor informed me. ‘I don’t think he’s in any real danger but he’s travelled a long way and he’s lost quite a bit of blood. There’s probably mild concussion too.’

Tipsania flounced towards him, hands on hips. She was the perfect modern-day representation of Scarlett O’Hara. ‘Can’t you throw water in his face or something? I need to know what’s going on!’

As ridiculous as her statement was, I sympathised with her. Even her father, the Bull, wasn’t thick-headed enough not to have noticed that she’d been missing for months. How on earth he planned to hold a wedding without the actual bride was beyond me. Tipsania wasn’t concerned with logistics, however; despite the appearance she maintained in public, she had no interest in Byron. Not these days, anyway. Her heart belonged to a rather intimidating Wild Man by the name of Candy.

‘He needs to sleep,’ Taylor said.

Tipsania gave a frustrated growl. May, who’d been watching the proceedings wide-eyed, shuffled over and put her head on Tipsania’s shoulder. It was a measure of how far my old adversary had come that she didn’t shake off the demon and start throwing things.

‘It could be,’ Brochan rumbled, his gills twitching with the tension, ‘that it’s just smoke and mirrors and the wedding will be cancelled at the last moment.’

I scratched my head. ‘But to what end? The marriage is supposed to cement the alliance between the Moncrieffes and the Scrymgeours. Leaving Byron standing at the altar isn’t going to achieve that. In fact, it’ll do the opposite.’ What I didn’t ask was why Byron was apparently going ahead with the charade. I shouldn’t feel hurt – after all, he thought I was dead. And even if I wasn’t dead, I had no claim on him. But rationality has no place when it comes to affairs of the heart; I could still feel a dull ache in the centre of my chest.

Lexie piped up. ‘Maybe they think the wedding is still going ahead.’

‘It can’t go ahead without the bride,’ Speck said. He paused. ‘Can it?’