Last Wish (Highland Magic #4)

‘Fucking Sidhe.’

‘That sentiment would make more sense if you weren’t a hypocrite about it. If you really hated all Sidhe, you wouldn’t have taken the contract to come here. You wouldn’t have let a Sidhe wrap you in their magic so all this could be blamed on demons from beyond the Veil.’

His mouth flattened. The same MacQuarrie as before raised his hand as if to hit him again. I flashed a frown and his fist dropped.

‘Who hired you?’

A glint of stubbornness lit his expression. ‘Soon as I tell you, you’ll kill me.’

I remained calm. ‘I’m not the murderer here.’

‘Unless reading minds is one of your blasted Sidhe tricks, you’ll never find out the truth.’

I considered this before looking at his companion. His head hung low so I reached over and gently put my fingers under his chin to force him to meet my eyes. He still wouldn’t do it. I pursed my lips; I could work with this.

Digging out my phone from my back pocket, I found Chandra’s number and dialled. She answered almost immediately. ‘Designs by Chandra,’ she trilled. ‘How may we be service of you?’

‘It’s me.’

She dropped the phone voice almost immediately. ‘Hey. What’s doing?’

‘Chandra,’ I said, deliberately using her name so that the two bastards in front of me knew who I was talking to. ‘I’m looking at an old buddy of yours. Ramsay.’

There was a moment of silence. ‘Did he try to hurt you?’

‘Not me.’

She sucked in a breath. ‘But someone else.’

‘Yep.’ I watched Ramsay’s companion stare at the phone. He was obviously trying to work out how someone who had a hot-pink mobile had managed to best him. Sucks to him.

‘He wasn’t working for me, Tegs. I told you, I’m not in that business any more. After what happened with you, I decided it was time to retire for good.’

‘I’m sure I could persuade you to do one or two more jobs for me. They wouldn’t take long.’

The nameless human stopped caring about the colour of my phone and suddenly paled. He swung alarmed eyes towards Ramsay who looked away, his jaw set.

‘Er…’ Chandra paused. ‘Is that really you, Tegs?’

‘Ramsay is here with a friend,’ I told her. ‘Human but looks kind of like a troll. Heavy brow, wiry hair, bad skin.’ I looked him over. ‘Wearing a silver necklace with a tooth on it.’

‘Smack.’

I frowned. ‘Smack who?’

‘That’s his name.’

‘Ah.’ I raised my eyebrows at him. He was frozen, not even blinking. Somehow I didn’t think the innocent puppy-dog look was going to work for him here. ‘You must know where he’s from.’

‘Little town north of Inverness. Some godforsaken hole with nothing more than a post box and a pub to commend it.’

‘And he has family there?’

‘Tegs, you’re not really suggesting…’

‘The Bull!’ he burst out. ‘It was the Bull who hired us!’

Ramsay sighed loudly in disgust.

‘Never mind, Chandra,’ I said. ‘Talk to you later.’ She murmured back, obviously confused. I’d explain later. I hung up and crossed my arms. ‘What were your instructions?’ I asked.

‘To retrieve his daughter.’

At his words, Tipsania flung her head up and stared at him with a haunted expression. Her hand curled round her own throat.

‘And do what?’

He sighed. ‘Bring her back to him. That’s all.’

I shook my head. ‘No, it’s not.’

His nostrils flared. ‘We were to dispatch the old woman too.’

‘Dispatch?’ Taylor growled.

‘Send her to Sidhe hell,’ Ramsay said, unhelpfully. He received a kick for his effort. This time I didn’t complain.

‘That’s not all, though, is it?’

‘We were to get rid of as many MacQuarrie Sidhe as possible.’

There was an audible gasp from the others around me. My chest tightened. ‘Why?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘She asked why!’ Angus spat.

‘He’s telling the truth,’ I said. ‘He doesn’t know.’

I turned my back on him, shoving my hands in my pockets and walking away a few metres. It was only a few days since I’d seen Tipsania’s father and been assured that he thought she was dead. Something had happened since then to change his mind. Not only had he worked out that she was here but he’d turned vengeful in the process. I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. Something didn’t fit.

Tipsania, looking more dishevelled than I’d ever seen her, got to her feet. She pushed her limp hair away from her tear-stained face and cleared her throat. ‘No,’ she said, her voice ringing out across the meadow. ‘He wouldn’t do that.’ She put her hands on her hips as if daring me to disagree. The trouble was that she was right.

There was no denying that the Bull was a bully and I wouldn’t have put it past him to kidnap his own daughter. I wouldn’t even have put it past him to suggest that anyone helping her – like Morna – be killed in the process. But to come here? Onto another Clan’s Lands with the intention of destroying as many of those Sidhe as possible? That was tantamount to inciting civil war. The MacQuarries were considered the weakest of all Sidhe and the Bull, with his magically enhanced wealth, would probably have no trouble in seeing them off, but others would protest if he moved against the MacQuarries. No one would stand for another’s Clan seat being invaded unless…

I sucked in a breath. ‘Where’s the ambulance?’ I whirled round. ‘How long has it been?’

Angus blinked and checked his watch. ‘Too long,’ he admitted. ‘I’d forgotten with Morna’s … passing. They should have been here ages ago.’

Who had the power to stop the emergency services from getting through? Who had the impunity to cause bloodshed on another’s Land? ‘We need to get out of here,’ I whispered. ‘All of us.’

The MacQuarrie Chieftain cocked his head. ‘What do you—?’ He broke off mid-sentence, his eyes falling on something behind me. A heartbeat later I heard the engine. I closed my eyes briefly. Too late.

It was a stretch limousine. It glided towards us, halting next to where Morna lay. As the door opened, I raised my voice and spread out my arms. ‘Everyone get back.’ When they didn’t immediately do as I said, I repeated it louder.

Tipsania seemed frozen. Taylor, sensing her dismay, grabbed her arm, pulling her back towards the crowd of MacQuarries for safety. The pair of them had only just moved past me when Aifric emerged. ‘Try anything,’ he smiled at us, ‘Invisibility or Teleportation or goddamned flower arranging, and it’ll be the last thing you do.’

It was hardly the most inspirational of threats. Then again, when three burly guys stepped out after him, each holding a shit-scary machine gun, it didn’t need to be.