Just as I didn’t think I could take any more, Ian slowed and turned the Range-Rover sharply left, directly into the trees adjoining the side of the road. I cried out, “Ian—the trees!”
But just as I thought we were going to collide with the grove in front of the windscreen, it all disappeared, and in its place was a wide dirt track. A split second later, I felt a frisson of awareness almost like a physical jolt.
“What was that?” I gasped out.
“It’s all right; we just crossed the wards.” Gage’s eyes locked on mine through the rearview mirror. “The discomfort will pass in a few moments.”
Even as he said it, I could feel my mind clearing, the apprehension leaving. I loosed my breath, relieved I hadn’t admitted how close I was to breaking. “Are we almost there?”
“We’re not far away,” Ian replied as he navigated a tight bend.
The track was surprisingly rundown, almost ramshackle, the bush crowding the space as if seeking to take over the route. There were no man-made structures in sight, nothing but dense forest. A lot of effort had been made to keep the Estate well hidden.
A few minutes later, I caught sight of a wooden sign. It looked to be written in Scottish Gaelic.
Mothachail.
Before I could ask what it meant, the path suddenly opened up into a large clearing. I gasped, for my attention was instantly drawn to the stone castle situated among lush, manicured gardens that were surrounded by a thick swath of mature pine trees. It was a castle from a fairy tale, with windows upon windows and numerous turrets sprinkled within the stone masonry. The castle sat bold and majestic against the backdrop of the breath-taking mountains beyond. The bold green from the trees, the brown of the mountain range, the pure white snow-capped peaks, and the bright blue Scottish sky above was an artist’s palette of perfection.
It was stunning, and it hit me anew that this was my home, where my father had grown up, in this very castle—with Nora.
Gage twisted in his seat to face me as Ian drove up the path to the castle entrance. “Welcome to Mothachail.”
Blinking, I drew my gaze away from the draw of the castle. Feeling vulnerable, and aware that my emotions were probably visible for all the world to see, I murmured huskily, “Thank you.” Composing myself, I asked, “What does Mothachail mean?”
“It means sentinel—because of the treasure it keeps inside.”
I raised a brow. “What treasure?”
“The treasure it protects is not a thing, Brydie, it’s a person. More specifically, it’s Cailleach’s descendant.” He paused, and his eyes burned into mine as he added, “Which, at this point, is you, Brydie.”
Ian pulled to a stop then, parking the rover directly before the large stone steps leading up to the front door. No, that was the wrong term, it wasn’t a front door—it was a grand entrance comprising two floor-to-ceiling doors. Gage jumped out as soon as the vehicle came to a halt. “Wait here,” he threw over his shoulder as he stalked up the steps.
I hesitated, my hand on the door handle. “Why are we waiting?” I asked Ian.
“Safety precaution,” he murmured as he turned to face me. “He’s just paranoid about what happened to Nora. I’m sure everything will be fine, but you can’t argue with him when he’s in this mood.”
“Right,” I whispered, the full effect of those words hitting me. Gage had said Nora died here, in her home. He wasn’t lying about that, it seemed. But it just raised more questions. “How am I safe here then, if Nora was attacked?”
A pained expression flickered over Ian’s face. “I’m looking into it. It all happened on the eve of Samhain, when Talorgan is at his strongest. But that window has closed. You’re safe here, Brydie. Nothing is coming for you.”
I stared at him, studying his features for any slight nuances in body language, testing his level of honesty. Ian was solid, his gaze unyielding.
“Okay.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes before Gage reappeared on the stone steps and beckoned.
“Let’s go,” Ian said.
I reached for the door handle and climbed out, stretching my neck back to view the castle. It was even more beautiful close up, the architecture old but charming. Taking a breath, I started up the steps, Ian beside me. There was a host of conflicting emotions roiling in my chest.
On the large stone threshold, I hesitated, peering into the building. I could see a large spiral staircase directly in front of me. It split into two on the landing before running in opposite directions up and around onto the first floor above. To the left and right of the ground floor foyer were two long corridors. The castle wasn’t cold and dark as I’d imagined a castle to be, but bright and airy. Light filtered through the various windows, accentuating the stone architecture, the carved pillars, and the polished banisters. It was beautiful.
Gage was waiting in the foyer. He wasn’t alone. A tall red-haired woman stood beside him, and a boy of about eight or nine years stood close behind her, a Jack Russell at his heels.
My eyes were arrested by the boy’s mop of black hair and long gangly legs. Was this Gage’s son?
Gage put a hand on the woman’s arm. “Brydie, this is McKenzie. McKenzie, this is Brydie, Nora’s granddaughter, and now the owner of this Estate.”
McKenzie was absolutely gorgeous with her pale skin and beautiful bone structure. She had a smattering of freckles across her cheeks, and her vivid green eyes shone like glittering emeralds. She looked a little younger than Gage, a few years older than me. I placed her in her mid-twenties.
I held out my hand. “Hi, McKenzie, it’s lovely to meet you.”
“And you.” Her voice was cool, distant.
Both of her hands closed over mine, and I felt a spark as if the air snapped with sudden tension. Before I had time to take a breath, a stabbing pain assaulted my temples. The pain was excruciating. I couldn’t formulate a word, let alone breathe.
“Let her go!” I heard Ian bark as if from a distance, his voice tight and angry.
What was going on? I couldn’t move, couldn’t even pull my hand away—McKenzie’s grip was too tight. My eyes darted to Gage, silently asking for help, but he stood there unmoving, a hard glint in his eyes as he watched me. My stomach turned, and I felt nauseated.
I moaned in desperation.
“Stop it!” demanded Ian. “That’s enough!” And he lunged forward to break McKenzie’s hold on my arm.
The release was instantaneous, the pounding head and nausea instantly lifting. I stumbled, and Ian pulled me protectively to his side, supporting my weight with an arm around my shoulders.
“What the fuck was that about?” he bit out above me. I was panting too heavily to speak, but I speared McKenzie a hard glance.
She didn’t change expression, her features cool. “I had to test her.”
Ian’s face hardened, brows slashing together. “It wasn’t warranted! She—”
“It was, and it was under my orders,” Gage interrupted harshly. “McKenzie was only doing what she was told.”
Ian cut his gaze to Gage, jaw locked with tension. “That’s bullshit! You could have told Brydie what to expect,” he ground out.
Gage snarled. “And you need to know your place, Ian. Safety always comes first here.”