“Oh Daeus.” Suddenly the air was thick. “Did – did they make other bargains before me? About my father?” The weight of the idea hit me hard.
“I don’t think so, no.” Ric shook his head. “From what I’d heard you were the farm’s only other occupant.”
I breathed out, almost toppling to the side as I did. For now, at least, Father was still out of the equation. For the first time, I hoped he didn’t go back to the farm, not yet anyway. “How much have your encounters with Berserkers grown over the past month?”
“Their activity has increased undoubtedly. We’ve not seen them come out of hiding for over four decades. It’s why I had to infiltrate the ranks to begin with.” He looked at me quizzically. “Why the sudden interest?”
“If I was just a tool for bargaining Roan’s loyalty then why is Stephan still after me? Surely he’s got what he wanted.”
“Whatever his reasons he’s been hunted by Demons for hundreds of years. Nothing has slipped past us yet so don’t worry. We’ll always be there to block his path.” Ric flicked me playfully on the forehead and I stared at him. He didn’t understand what I meant by it.
Before I could push the issue further another man joined the others in the lounge, catching my and Ric’s attention. Theron growled darkly from the rug in front of the fire. The man was shorter than the majority of them but had a strong build; his brown hair had been cut roughly and his eyes were violet as they reflected the flickering firelight. I took a step forward as I noted a chest full of scars, some of which were still wounds, open and barely clotted. He was no Gnathian.
“You always greet me with such disdain, Theron. Won’t you ever like me?” the man said with a dry, ragged voice.
Theron responded with a huff as he got to his feet and padded out the room and into the hall. As I stared at the back of him I could have… Daeus…call me crazy, but I swore I’d seen the man before.
He addressed the others in the group swiftly. “It’s as Alistair says; this new senior of theirs is unlike anything I’ve seen. When we started tracking their group there were four of us. We kept our distance, masked our scents, yet they managed to get the upper hand. By the time we realised we were being led into a trap it was too late.” The man cringed at the open wound on his chest. “I was the only one to survive – and barely, at that.”
“Chester,” Willow called his attention. “Sit and I’ll clean your wounds before they heal any worse.”
“You’re too kind as always, Lady, but I don’t wish to cause a fuss.” Chester bowed lightly to her.
“You’ve already caused a fuss so sit,” Willow commanded. Her tone was so sharp, and the man, Chester’s, reaction was so instantaneous, that a small laugh slipped past my lips. It wasn’t the time to be laughing, no sir. Yet, I’d never heard Willow be so blunt and demanding before.
As Willow pumped fresh water and ground the herbs to clean and disinfect his wound, Chester’s gaze shifted to me and it lingered there for a passing moment, his nostrils flaring as he tasted the air. “So this is the Gnathian girl I’ve come to know so well from whispered rumours?”
I bristled and stuck a hand on my hip. “Gnathian woman, yes. How are there rumours if the only ones who know I’m here are standing in this room?”
Chester laughed, earning a sharp tut from Willow, before turning to Alistair. “She’s feisty, this one. I can see why you have a problem with her.” He slapped Alistair on the arm and continued with another bout of laughter. I stared him down and waited for an answer to my question. “Darling Lady, anyone – be it man or beast – who damages a Berserker’s face the way you have will forever be a legend in this world.” He dipped his head and put his hand as close to his chest as he could get it. “It’s truly a pleasure to meet you.”
I considered him and shuffled closer, dipping my head to him politely before staring at him again. “A person with as many scars as you can be one of two things: a man that fights for justice or a man that fights for power. My question is: which one are you?”
“Neither,” he said. “I’m not a man at all.”
“He’s a Skinwalker, like me,” Ric said, keeping his distance.
Ah, that’s why his eyes were so similar. “I thought your kind was rare to come by?” I asked, remembering my conversation with Ethan the previous day.
“They are,” Chester said.
“The good ones, anyway,” Ric added bitterly.
“This new senior slaughtered one of the only other Skinwalkers I know of,” Chester said. “Though, I’ve got no doubt that they have alliances with the others – the lesser of our kind.”
“Lesser-”
“The ones who have no real control, like the Berserkers most of the time, they stay in their bestial forms and live as animals. I doubt they realise they were once Gnathian at all. It’s what makes them deadly.”
“Why are you explaining it to her?” Alistair spat. “A Gnathian has no place knowing any more than their tiny brains will let them.”
He twanged a nerve and before I could stop myself I snapped, “Are you always this charming?” I looked to Chester. “Is he always this charming?” Chester looked back to me with a look that said, pretty much.
Alistair growled and turned on the others. “And why are you letting this happen? This was the deal with bringing her back with us. Silence at all times. This conversation should have ceased a long time ago.”
A painful silence hung between us.
“She found out about us,” Ethan said eventually, crossing his arms. “Even a halfwit troll could put the pieces together if you gave it enough time.”
Alistair’s anger rose. I could feel it crackling about the room and prickling my skin. Chester got to his feet quickly and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder to calm him. Smart man. Good instincts. Willow stood alongside him and blocked the path between us, bringing the conversation to a standstill.
“Lavender, sweetheart, why not show Ava what poultices you’ve been developing in the workroom while I discuss some things with your uncle?” Willow said with faux-sweetness.
“Yes, Mother.” Lavender knew her tone was overly patronising but she seemed thankful to have an excuse to leave, threading her arm through mine.