face him.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," he said softly. His gaze searched mine, his eyes probing to find out what I was thinking of him. I let him squirm and wonder as I took a minute to think about it. The knowledge of what caused him pleasure didn't lessen my attraction to him. He was still someone I hoped to get to know to see where it might take us. Maybe he sensed my thoughts and emotional undercurrents because his lips stretched into a smile and he held out his hand. I grabbed it, albeit reluctantly, but didn't budge from the spot when he tried to pull me away.
"No," I said. "I want to know what happened to her."
He hesitated. "Trust me, you don't. It's not a pretty sight." I caught his glimpse behind me and followed his line of vision, past a fence leading into an overgrown garden. I started in that direction with him behind me, my breath coming in short, ragged heaps. If he tried to stop me, I didn't hear it. My heart began to hammer loud and hard a moment before I stepped through the gate into the garden with herbs and wild flowers and heavy branches hanging from a weeping willow. Right under them was a paved space, a perfect circle with stones building a border about ten inches in height. A ritual place—I knew it because I had seen something like this in my reoccurring dreams and visions ever since I was born.
My hands shook as I kneeled down to touch the puddle of blood that had stained the stones a deep red, my gaze wandering past the pair of worn slippers to the old woman lying on her back in the middle of the circle. Her eyes were wide open, the expression on her aged face showed horror and fear. Her hands were tied and pressed against her chest as though she had tried to protect herself. Right under her chin was a thin cut crusted with dried blood. Bile rose in my throat. For once I was thankful I had skipped a lot of meals lately.
"Shush, it's okay. She didn't suffer." Thrain's hands drew slow circles on my back. I knew he was lying. He small incisions all over her body indicated whoever had killed her had ensured a long and painful death.
I got up and wiped my hands on the back of my jeans. "Get me out of here." My voice came low and hoarse, choked with emotion. I could feel something wet and cold on my face. Thrain leaned in to wipe a hand over my cheeks, then lifted me in his arms and carried me over to the front yard where Cass waited. From her expression I knew she could at least guess what we had just discovered.
"Seems like someone found her before us," she said.
Thrain smirked. "Maybe he knew where to find her all along."
"What are you saying?" Cass asked.
He peered at me and raised his brows meaningfully. "Still think Aidan's mansion isn't the most secure place right now?"
Cass hesitated. "What about Hell?"
Hell? Did she really say that? I opened my mouth to protest but Thrain beat me to it. "Dallas's attack should've taught you that's one of the most obvious places our enemies would come looking."
I pressed my cheek against his strong chest, inhaling his manly scent. "I'd love to spend some more time in Scotland, if you come too."
Thrain's hot breath left a tingling sensation on my temple where his lips barely touched my skin. I thought he whispered something that sounded like, "I'd love to." But I wasn't sure because a moment later darkness enveloped me and I lost consciousness yet again.
Chapter 12
I woke up in a bed, feeling completely dehydrated. The dry sensation in my mouth made me cough once or twice before I pried my eyes open. A groan escaped my throat as I tried to push up on my elbows. My blurry gaze focused on the people around me. And lots of them. Where did they all come from?
"You're seeing double, mate," Cass said from the window. Next to her, Amber was leaning against the wall. Aidan and Clare weren't around. I scanned the room with its flowery wallpaper and antique furniture. If it wasn't for a jacket draped over the back of a chair and lots of magazines and toiletry items cluttering the surface of the dresser, I could've sworn I was in a hotel room.
"Stop reading my