Just as I opened my mouth to press him further, he released me and raised the key fob. Lights flashed to the left. Cars weren’t my thing, but this looked like a sports car. It was low-slung and red.
“This is our ride?”
He nodded, a small smile flitting around the edges of his mouth. “Gorgeous, isn’t she?”
“I have no idea. I don’t do cars.”
“Pity,” he murmured. “You’d appreciate this even more if you did. Nothing better handles the curves on the road.”
I raised a brow. “Right. And I suppose you will be dr—"
“You’re not driving,” he cut in curtly.
I didn’t argue; I couldn’t drive anyway. My parents had died before I was able to get my driver’s license. I also hadn’t been able to get back into a car for quite a while after their death.
It was strange—I hadn’t been in the car with them, but I’d have a panic attack just thinking about sitting in one. After a year, I’d managed to dull my response and was able to use public transport around the city, but it had been too much to sit my driver’s license. I didn’t need to either, for I had the convenience of living in a city. And if I was honest, I didn’t want to replace the cherished memories I’d shared with Dad, as he’d sat in the passenger seat and taught me how to drive.
Gage popped the trunk and stowed our luggage in the cramped compartment while I climbed into the passenger seat and belted up. It felt as though I was sitting on the ground.
The driver’s door opened, and he slid in next to me, his long frame dominating the available space. It was snug inside, airtight. I shifted, uncomfortable with being in such close proximity to him. His eyes cut to mine. They traveled over my face and down my body. I felt my skin race with gooseflesh, and I was thankful he couldn’t see the effect his closeness had on me as I’d changed into another pair of jeans and a warm sweater before leaving the plane.
I averted my gaze, turning to look out the window. Could he feel whatever that was between us? And why did I have to react this way toward him?
He turned on the ignition, and the car purred to life. The noise was a welcome buffer in the tense silence. As Gage reversed smoothly, I cleared my throat, striving for a semblance of normality. “How far away is Nora’s Estate?”
“Three hours’ drive from here, but we won’t be arriving tonight—it’s too dangerous.”
“Too dangerous? Why?”
He cut me a glance as he pulled out of the car park, his blue eyes intense in the gloom of the car. “Because that’s what Talorgan will be expecting us to do. We need to layover for a night somewhere else.”
I swallowed, not wanting to hear more. “Where are we staying, then?”
“Perth. It’s an hour’s drive from here. I have a friend there. We’ll stay with him tonight before continuing on to the Estate tomorrow.”
“A friend?” It was hard to imagine Gage with a friend.
He glanced at me again; an eyebrow lifted as if to ask why I was so surprised. “He’s one of the five.”
One of the five descendants. My stomach dipped at the thought of meeting one of them. “Okay.”
A flicker of surprise crossed his features. “That’s it? You don’t have any more questions?”
“No. There’s no point,” I said in a hard voice. “You’ll only share as much as you intend.”
I saw his jaw clench, but he didn’t respond as he exited the roundabout from the airport terminal. “I have my reasons. Giving you everything now will do more harm than good at this stage.”
I tensed, anger a flame inside my chest. “What test do I need to overcome before you’ll confide in me?”
His fingers clenched on the steering wheel, and he took a moment to respond. “If you can master your magic, I’ll tell you everything.”
Silence, heavy and ominous fell between us. The thought of having any magic was enough to cause my heart to pound, but to master it? Inconceivable.
Shifting gears, he maneuvered through a roundabout and took the northern M90 motorway. The silence stretched between us.
Gage wasn’t a talker, and I liked that. I was used to living on my own and didn’t enjoy small talk. But as we drove in silence, I realized that I didn’t know much about him, whereas he seemed to know everything about me.
I cleared my throat and tentatively prodded him, hoping he’d open up and share something of his life. “Did you grow up at the Estate?”
His long fingers clenched on the wheel. “Yes.”
I waited for him to elaborate, but the silence stretched again. Then as if he’d come to a decision, he added, “Although, I only moved there when I was five. I was born in Pennan, a small coastal fishing village in Aberdeenshire.”
Surprised that he’d shared that much, I pushed him for more. “What was it like? Growing up in the fishing village?”
“Life was ruled by the sea. If you caught enough fish for the day, you’d be guaranteed a feed that night. It was hard, but there was a certain freedom to it.”
I daren’t look at his face, lest he stop talking. “Were you fishermen?”
“My mother wasn’t, but my father owned a creel boat. He’d go out every day, and as soon as we could walk, my brother and I would accompany him.”
It sounded simple. “It doesn’t sound like a hard life.”
“Pennan is not that type of village,” he denied in a hard voice. “It’s like any other small community—ruled by jealousies and desires.”
I jerked, surprised at his vehemence. There was a story there but asking him was pointless as I knew he wouldn’t tell me. Besides, it was crossing a line we hadn’t reached—potentially would never reach. “Is your family still there?”
“Only my father,” he said shortly. His head whipped around to face me. “I know what you’re doing, and my patience will only go so far, Brydie.”
“Please—only a few more questions.”
He pierced me with a hard stare, and bit out, “Five! No more, no less. The rest you’ll have to earn.”
I didn’t hesitate to agree. “Deal.”
There was so much I wanted to ask. My mind was a jumble of thoughts, a million questions turning in my head. I had to focus; pinpoint the ones I wanted the answers to the most. He knew everything about me—my family, my life, my history. It was intrusive. Thinking of family, I wanted to know more about his. “Is it just you and your brother?”
“Yes.” His lips twisted as he added harshly, “It’s always been just my brother and me.”
“Younger or older?”
“Younger, by two minutes.”
I gasped. “You’re a twin?”
He speared me a glance. “Yes.”
There were two of them? I wanted to know if they were identical. I opened my mouth, but Gage interrupted me. “You have two left.”
Deciding I’d find that out later, I asked instead, “You mentioned there’s an age when your magic manifests; and that I’m older than the average Druid. What age were you when your abilities manifested?”
His hands flexed on the wheel, knuckles white. He said shortly, “Magic usually manifests around our tenth year. Mine didn’t. I was five.”
My eyes widened. Five years old? “What happened?”
His jaw clenched. “I burnt our cottage to the ground.”
My heart stopped, considering the repercussions of such an event. How could a five-year-old have dealt with that?
I asked quietly, “Were you aware that you had that kind of power?”
He speared me a lethal glance. “I was told about the prophecy as soon as I was of age to understand what it meant. There was no excuse for what happened. Everyone knew the next descendant would be me or my brother, particularly as it hadn’t been Father. The day after I burnt the cottage down, Reuben arrived. He packed me off to the Estate, and my Druidic training began that day.”