I swallowed another chug of beer, my eyes unwavering on my target. It settled in a cold lump in the pit of my belly as I wondered if she had the inner steel to weather the storm that was coming.
Brydie’s expression changed. Her head whipped around and she glanced behind her.
What had she seen?
I carefully placed the bottle on the table and followed her gaze. A man, in his mid-twenties, was standing at the reception desk. His companion was a tall, rail-thin woman. The brunette was stunning, but just a pretty face.
Who were they to her?
I scrolled my memory bank of all the little details I’d accumulated on Brydie MacKay. Aside from her father, there was only one other male who’d played a prominent part in her life. It had to be him. Going by his ensemble, he was a businessman.
I fucking hated suits.
All senses on full alert, I watched them closely. The back of my neck tingled and I froze, understanding that there was more to this man than what he seemed. I inhaled deeply. The odor of acrid smoke and burning flesh assaulted my nostrils.
It could only be one person—Talorgan!
His signature was unmistakable. But who was it? The man or the woman?
I flicked my gaze to the suit’s arm candy, focusing on her face and the shift of her features, instantly dismissing her as her brown eyes alighted on an acquaintance at an adjacent table. It wasn’t her; she was just a pawn in the game that was being played.
I zeroed in on the suit’s movements, tensing as he unerringly cast his gaze on Brydie, switching direction mid-step to walk toward the women, his acquaintance having no choice but to follow behind. The action was too clinical to be one of chance, and I knew he’d come to this restaurant knowing she’d be here. If I’d needed confirmation, it was right there—the suit had been touched by Talorgan.
I frowned. My neck usually burned viciously if I was this close to one of Talorgan’s sycophants, but the connection was weaker than I’d ever sensed it before. Did distance play a part? New Zealand was a long way from Scotland. Did that mean that any suggestions Talorgan forced on Brydie’s ex-fiancé had a chance of being ignored? I paused at that. Nora’s decision to keep her granddaughter a secret began to hold merit.
In the end, it didn’t matter—Talorgan was here. The game was up, and Brydie was due a rude awakening.
I leaned forward on the edge of my seat; my casual pose a pretext. Moving my hands in a quick flutter of movement, I built a shield around my form, blurring the lines of reality. Those watching me would hesitate, questioning if a man even sat there.
When the shield was complete, I flowed to my feet, leaving my concealed position to move quickly and silently to within a few feet of Brydie. I willed my breath to even out, and my heartbeat to slow. The slightest nuance could alert Talorgan to my presence. Let him believe his prey was in sight.
It was too public here—there were too many people—but if it came to blowing my cover, I would still do what was needed. The survival of the descendant depended on it, and I’d pay for the fallout with The Oaken Tree later.
I stood there, barely breathing as I observed their exchange closely. The tension between the suit, Brydie, and Chloe was obvious. I knew he had cheated on Brydie with the woman who’d accompanied him, but what I hadn’t known was now immediately obvious—the sexual tension emanating from her ex wasn’t aimed at her but at her best friend.
My lips twisted in a silent snarl. My assignment was a fucking walkover! How could she have fallen for a guy who was attracted to her best friend?
I froze as he grabbed Brydie’s hand, lowering himself to look her in the eye. He didn’t have any weapons on hand, but he was too close. Close enough to reach out for the cutlery and stab her with it. I tensed, preparing myself to launch.
But Chloe spoke, and it hit a nerve with the suit. He said some final words before heading to his table and his lunch date. I kept my gaze on him until he took a seat at his table and I didn’t shift it as the two women discussed what had just happened. I couldn’t help but listen in, my teeth clenching as Chloe shared her betrayal, knowing that if my brother had ever kept a secret like that from me, our relationship would be over.
Not long after, Brydie paid the check, and I followed them discreetly to Chloe’s car. I knew where they were going. I’d already scoped the venue. Sparing one last glance on the street, and satisfied that there were no overt threats around, I watched the car as it drove off before jumping into my rental vehicle.
Minutes later, I pulled up on the other side of the road, eyes on the large two-story house on the riverbank. It screamed affluent success. The minutes ticked by, but no one else entered or exited the house, and I didn’t feel a nagging threat at the back of my neck.
The Daughter of Winter was safe, for now.
An hour later, they exited the building, bags in tow, with an older couple who I knew were Chloe’s adoptive parents. They packed the bags into the trunk, and all four of them entered the midnight-blue Mercedes-Benz.
I turned the key to the Land Cruiser and pulled out smoothly, maintaining a discreet distance. I knew where they were headed, and I needed my full concentration for the ninety-minute drive ahead. I pushed a button on the dash, silencing the radio, then turned off my cell phone. I didn’t need any distractions.
The stakes were rising. Talorgan knew Brydie existed, and two people too many in her small world had already been compromised. First the man at the club last night, and now her ex-fiancé.
One thing was certain: I couldn’t protect her here. I needed to get her to Scotland as soon as possible.
10
Brydie
I sighed with relief as Patrick and Margaret pulled up in front of my little villa. It was an emotional send-off at the airport, and the one-hour drive back to Hamilton had been too long.
Much to Patrick’s distress, Margaret cried the whole way. It was clear that they cared deeply about Chloe, and I was thankful they’d given her the affection she craved all those years ago. I knew that if it wasn’t for their patience and understanding, Chloe could be on the streets, on the wrong side of the law, or holed up in an abusive relationship with two kids in tow.
As the car came to a stop, I leaned over the middle console, a hand on each of their shoulders. “Thanks so much for the ride. I appreciate you letting me tag along.”
Margaret reached over and gave me a one-armed hug. “Thanks for coming,” she sniffed into my shoulder. “And even though Chloe’s gone for the next six months, don’t be a stranger. We would love to have you visit.”
I squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll do that.”
And I would. They’d been my surrogate parents over the last three years, and I’d let them become that because I knew their affection was genuine.
I turned to Chloe’s father. “Take care, Patrick.”
He gave me a small smile and a nod in return. “We’ll wait here until you’re inside, love.”
Murmuring my thanks, I exited the vehicle and walked up to the front door. Fishing the key out of my handbag, I unlocked it and flicked on the hallway light before turning to give them a thumbs-up. Margaret lifted her hand as Patrick gave a brief toot in farewell.