Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
CILLIAN
Treasa answered on the fifth ring. That told me more than her eventual greeting did. I had no doubt she had seen my name, considered ignoring me, and chosen irritation over silence.
Her tone confirmed it. “You only call when something is wrong.”
I stood near the drawing room window with the phone against my ear and watched the wind play with the trees. “That’s not true.”
“No?”
It had been some time since she’d teased me with her words and the silken version of her voice. Yet the sound of her stilled stirred me, and it was an inconvenience I hadn’t adequately prepared for. “Sometimes I call before something goes wrong.”
Her silence was not empty. Treasa had always known how to make a pause feel like judgment.
Beyond the glass, the first hint of rain misted the air above the lawn. The mountains loomed in shadow, the lake beyond the trees reduced to a dull gray seam beneath the low sky.
“What have you done?” she asked.
I looked down at the untouched glass on the table beside me. Whiskey. Not because I needed it. It affected me very little these days, though I still enjoyed the taste, and the habit remained useful. “I’ve done very little.”
She scoffed. “That’s when I worry most.”
A faint smile touched my mouth despite myself. “You wound me.”
“No,” she said. “I remember you.”
I set that aside before it could settle.
The fire behind me shifted in the grate, bringing me back to the present. The drawing room smelled of peat, beeswax, and the lamb Nora had insisted on preparing for dinner. The house was warm and orderly. Precisely how I preferred it.
It was one reason Nora was invaluable to me.
I turned from the window and studied the room as if something in it had moved. Nothing had, of course. The books remained aligned. The flowers on the table had not dropped a petal, and the curtains hung in clean lines beside the tall windows.
Still, the air had tightened, and my thoughts turned to Selene. The revised arrangement should hold.
Treasa’s soft sigh echoed from my phone. “You’re breathing differently. What is it?”
Only she would notice something like that. “Nothing yet.”
“Cillian.”
I did not answer immediately.
Bren had held to the terms of our agreement better than I had expected. He watched Selene closely enough to keep her safe. But he hadn’t touched her. I would have known. He’d managed the distance between them with the rigid discipline that had kept him alive and bound for centuries.
The incessant voice in my head said it was not enough. That it never was.
“You don’t sound like yourself,” Treasa said quietly.
I was certain I did. “No?”
“Are you still arranging lives as if they’re stones on a board?”
A soft huff escaped me, and I let my gaze settle on the dark glass of the window. My reflection looked back at me, composed and immaculate enough to be believed.
Too long ago, I had learned not to give my opponents evidence, and Treasa had once been more dangerous than any opponent. “I do what’s necessary.”
I smoothed my thumb once over the edge of the phone. “Bren understands the risk.”
“Does he?”
The way she questioned me still hit a nerve. “He agreed distance was safest.”
“And you still believe in him?”
I turned toward the fire. The room remained warm, but the old ache beneath my ribs stirred with irritating precision. Treasa had always known where to place a blade. “I have no choice.”
Before she could respond, the wards Bren had installed around the house without my permission shifted.
It was a subtle disturbance. A pressure change at the outer edge of the building. Nothing a mortal would notice unless their blood carried old sensitivity, or unless the house chose to let them feel it.
But I sensed something more than just a person arriving. Selene was home. And she’d brought Maeve.
I stilled for a moment before I stood. “The girls have arrived. I need to go.” I ended the call without waiting for her reply.
I scrubbed my face and stood, briefly wondering why I’d bothered to ring her. But I knew precisely why, and that was the problem. Our time had come and gone, and only the disastrous effects remained.
I stepped from my study just as the front doorknob turned. Selene didn’t notice me right away, chatting to Maeve as she stepped inside. “You’ll love Nora. I promise.”
Then she spotted me and stopped so fast Maeve bumped into the back of her. “Cillian?” She struggled to recalibrate. “Did I miss a message that you were coming?”
My young protégé likely thought she appeared composed, but the thrum of her increased pulse called to my baser instincts. I swallowed and smiled. “Last-minute, urgent business brought me to the region. Nothing to do with Mystwood Castle.”
Maeve shuffled in behind her and closed the door against the brisk evening chill. She brushed her unruly red curls from her face and charmed me with a smile. “Truly last minute, then. Sometime after I departed this morning?”
I calmly nodded. “Indeed. But the matter won’t be difficult to handle. I won’t stay but a day, possibly two. I hope you don’t mind my invading your temporary home. I do like to check on the place when I’m out this way.”
Selene was quick to shake her head. “Of course not. This is your house. Not ours.”
My keeper spoke from behind us. “I told Cillian he was more than welcome to stay. Plenty of rooms, and I always keep his ready for him.”
I nodded my thanks to the compact woman, who appeared older than me, her silver hair pinned to the back of her head, her blue eyes far more intelligent than she thought I realized.
She’d been about to say something else when her gaze drifted past me. Her eyes brightened, and I suspected she’d noticed Maeve.
Nora’s soft Kerry lilt was warm and inviting. “Ah, here. Who’s this now?”
The woman pushed her way between Selene and me, intent on welcoming the girl. “You’re Maeve then? Selene told me you’d be arriving. I understand you’ve stayed here once before.”
Maeve’s smile matched Nora’s as she stepped forward, holding out her hands in a friendly greeting.
I held my breath and waited as my keeper returned the gesture.
Nora’s eyes widened just a fraction, and I knew she’d recognized a kindred spirit.
It was a small move on the chessboard, but I wagered it wasn’t enough to upend my strategy.
Maeve seemed to notice nothing from Nora’s touch and chatted away as usual. “Selene has told me much about you too. Only good things, and I’m so happy to meet you.”
My keeper seemed pleased by her response. The wrinkles near her eyes deepened with delight as she squeezed her hands and released her. “The delight is mine. Come now. Dinner’s ready.”
Selene released a sigh, a telltale sign she acknowledged there was nothing she needed to control. “It smells so good, and I’m starving.”
I helped the women take off their coats, noting the slight differences in Selene since I’d last seen her.
She hid the strain well, of course. Her posture was straight, her expression controlled as usual.
And she’d had her coat buttoned properly against the rain.
But fatigue sat at the edges of her composure, and something beneath her skin had become more defined.
I wouldn’t say she’d become more powerful exactly, but her presence had increased.
I’d known the shock of learning her heritage would take its toll, but I was relieved to see she was handling it well enough. Having Maeve nearby would help. Clara’s presence might not, so I’d keep her away until she was needed.
“Nora has prepared far too much food,” I said, hanging up Maeve’s coat. “Which means she either expects us to be hungry or intends to make a point.”
Nora’s chuckle echoed from the kitchen. “Both.”
Maeve leaned closer to Selene and whispered, still loud enough for everyone to hear. “I like her already.”
We moved into the dining room, where Nora had set the table near the long windows facing the back lawn.
The rain had strengthened and fell in fine lines against the glass.
The fire in the smaller hearth had been lit, and the room held the layered smells of roasted lamb, potatoes, butter, thyme, and warm bread.
Maeve glanced over her shoulder at me as she made her way to the table. “It’s a fine old house, isn’t it?”
I dipped my head in agreement. “She’s weathered well.”
Selene slipped into her chair. “Like so many things here in Ireland have. One would think that, with the constant wind and rain, many of these old structures would have fallen.”
Nora carried a basket of bread to the table. “Some have. Others remain protected.”
She froze for just the slightest moment as though she realized what she had said and then continued on as normal. “In my opinion, everything on our island is sturdier than in most places. The buildings, the people, and the relationships. We’ve had to be strong to survive.”
She’d said “protected.” A common person would think she meant by God or by the people living here. Only some knew the truth. She’d never outright said anything to me, but I knew she knew. At least some of it. And she had a soft spot for Bren, which I tolerated.
Because she was right. The people of Ireland took care of their own. And deep down, I knew her first loyalty was to me.
But Selene had caught it. She stiffened and shot a quick glance at Nora, while Maeve looked to Selene. So, all three knew something, but how much?
And while Nora may have guessed I had influence over some of the players, she knew very little about me. Selene and Maeve knew none of it, and that’s exactly how I preferred it.
I took my seat at the head of the table as Nora brought over the platter of lamb and roasted vegetables, and I let the awkwardness breathe a few more seconds than comfort allowed. “Old houses carry old stories. They tend to outlast the people who tell them.”
Maeve cocked her head as she regarded me. “Are you not one who fancies the stories then? You don’t believe in otherworldly things?”
Selene instantly shifted her attention to me, and I spotted the curiosity, the hunger for answers. She’d likely pressed Bren, and possibly Maeve, for information about her heritage. Of course she would begin asking others.
Curiosity was safer than ignorance until it drew the wrong attention. This stage should have come months later. Unfortunately, Selene moved according to her own schedule.
The only reaction I allowed was a calm smile directed at Maeve. “I believe there is far more to this world that we inhabit than we’ll ever understand.”
Selene seemed disappointed by my answer, but not Maeve. “My gran says the same sort of thing. Not in those words, mind you. Hers usually involve fairy folk and warnings.”
Nora’s mouth curved into an appreciative smile as she buttered a piece of brown bread. “A wise woman then.”
“She is.” Maeve studied Nora with open interest. “Do you know many stories from this area?”
Nora’s hand stilled on the knife, and I pretended not to know what was running through her head. Usually, she denied any specific knowledge of the world’s magic, but she’d slipped twice.
My keeper cleared her throat. “I know a few. Enough to know you don’t dismiss the old ones too quickly.”
Selene nodded almost imperceptibly. My guess was Nora had been freer with what she spoke about with Selene.
Maeve’s eyes flashed with excitement as she swallowed a forkful of potatoes. “Then you’re likely aware there’s a decorative inlay at Mystwood Castle which is a thin place. I sensed it myself today.”
Selene froze for several heartbeats. Nora immediately dropped her gaze to her plate, answering in an even tone. “That’s the rumor.”
A few seconds passed before she glanced at Maeve, no longer able to hide her curiosity. “And you say you felt its presence?”
Maeve gave an enthusiastic nod. “Working on Mystwood Castle will be such a joy.” She turned to me. “Thank you, Cillian, for assigning us this job.”
I raised my wine glass in a toast. “I believe I will thank your team instead. You’re exactly the right people for this project.”
Selene’s cheeks colored as she met my gaze. “I appreciate your confidence. We will certainly do our best.”
I smiled in return and then turned my focus to my keeper. “This is incredibly delicious, Nora. You’ve truly outdone yourself this time.”
The older woman waved away my comment. “Hush now. Eat before it gets cold.”
Our dinner was delightful. Good company. Excellent food. A man with my particular constraints could ask for little more. Except perhaps absolution.
But that day would come. I would see to it.
I’d nearly finished a second slice of apple cake when my mood soured. I heard his engine far earlier than anyone else at the table, and I sensed him before his damned wards triggered. That Bren had come at all was the biggest problem.
I pushed back from the table, and the ladies all turned in my direction. “Someone is at the door. Please finish your desserts, and I’ll take care of it.”
My thoughts darkened as I strode from the kitchen. I’d take care of him permanently if I didn’t need him so damn much.