Sorcha pushed angrily to her feet. Without looking at him, she said, “You’ve said what you wanted. You need to leave.”
“I’m not finished. There’s more.”
“I don’t bloody care. Leave!”
He noticed her hands fisted at her sides. She shook with emotion. Her gaze was directed away from him, but he saw that her jaw was clenched, and she was doing everything she could to keep herself from falling apart.
Cathal slowly got to his feet. “When you’re ready to hear the rest, just say my name. I’ll come immediately. And…I’m sorry. I never meant to upset you.”
He waited a few seconds, but Sorcha wouldn’t look at him. Cathal drew in a deep breath and walked away. He didn’t get two steps before the window slammed shut behind him. The moment he got to the edge of the porch, he veiled himself and looked back at her. She no longer stood at the window. Cathal hated that he’d caused her stress, but there was no way around it. Besides, there had been a chance that she would’ve taken the news as something to celebrate.
There was no way to look at this that would give him any kind of reprieve. He was the one who had wanted to seek Sorcha out. He had wanted to speak with her. And what had it gotten him? Not a bloody thing.
During the next hour, Cathal guarded the property. More and more Fae showed up. Some stayed, others hid, and a few seemed content just to make sure Sorcha was there. But not one of them realized there were Reapers on the isle—or guarding Sorcha.
When Aisling returned, Cathal had never been happier to see her. “About time.”
She gave him an odd look. “I thought you wanted some alone time with the Halfling.”
“Sorcha.”
Aisling smiled. “Ah. You found out her name. Does that mean you spoke with her?”
“Aye.”
“I take that to mean it didn’t go well.”
He ran a hand down his face. “Not at all. It started off all right. She wouldn’t use her magic to heal her ankle, but she allowed me to do it.”
“Wow. That did start out well. How did you fek it up?”
Cathal couldn’t take offense at her words because they were the truth. “I asked about her family. She said she was a Druid, that her mother and sister were, as well. She said her sister’s father died, and her mother met someone else and became pregnant with her.”
Aisling’s nose wrinkled in a grimace. “Is that when you told her she’s a Halfling?”
“I thought it was the perfect opportunity.”
“Well, to be fair, I probably would’ve done the same. Especially if the conversation had been going well up to that point.”
Cathal looked at the cottage. No matter how many times he walked around the house, he hadn’t seen more than a glimpse of her within. “She hates Fae.”
“Damn. Wait,” Aisling said, a frown creasing her brow. “If she hates us, why did she speak with you?”
He shrugged. “I wondered that myself. She wouldn’t come outside or let me in, but she opened a window a bit so we could talk. Then she let me heal her. Please tell me you found out something.”
“I did, but before I get to that, what the hell?” she asked as she turned her head one way and then the other, taking in the Fae who had shown up but weren’t stepping onto Sorcha’s property.
“I spotted the first one not long after you left. I also found a worn ward against the Fae in the rose garden. It’s on a piece of weathered wood.”
“Which means it’s losing its effectiveness,” Aisling said.
Cathal nodded as he eyed the Fae who had been there the longest. “I checked around the entire property again, but that’s the only ward I found.”
“There could be more inside the house.”
“Could be.”
“Want me to look?”
He hesitated to answer. It would be easy for both of them to get inside the cottage as they’d done earlier, but he didn’t want to invade Sorcha’s privacy—even if it was to protect her.
Aisling held up a hand. “I understand. We might not have a choice later, though.”
“I don’t know what it is about Sorcha.”
The Dark female shrugged and looked away. “You don’t have to try and explain anything to me. I’m the last person who will judge you.”
Cathal’s gaze slid to her. He studied her profile for a moment before he said, “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing,” she said offhandedly.
But he knew otherwise.
Aisling cleared her throat and faced him. “As tightknit as the residents on Skye are, they are quite the gossips.”
“They talked to you about Sorcha?”
“No,” Aisling said with a roll of her red eyes. “I ventured into a pub veiled. It was full of locals, and the main topic of conversation was none other than Sorcha. Well, her and the fact that, apparently, they have spells up that alert them when any Fae arrive.”
Cathal crossed his arms over his chest, not liking that people were talking about Sorcha.
Aisling gave him a flat look. “Don’t get your panties in a wad. If they hadn’t been talking about her, I wouldn’t have found out anything. Besides, they weren’t badmouthing her.”
That made him feel a little better. Not much, but some. “What did they say?”
“Turns out, she didn’t lie. Until a few days ago, when she agreed to go to Ireland to spy, Sorcha hadn’t left her property in ten years. Nor does she do magic.”
“But why?” Cathal asked, confused.
Aisling’s lips flattened for a heartbeat. “I didn’t learn the story behind it, but apparently, it has something to do with the day her mother and sister died.”
“That would explain why she got restless when she spoke about her family.”
“I gather it’s a sore subject.” Aisling shrugged. “I tried to uncover the story, but it isn’t something anyone talks about.”
Cathal dropped his arms to his sides as he blew out a breath. “That explains a lot, actually. I wish I would’ve known all of that before I talked to her.”
“It’s probably better that you didn’t. Whatever happened to her family…it left a raw wound that doesn’t appear to have healed. Take my advice and don’t bring it up again. If Sorcha wants to talk about it, then she’ll bring it up.”
Cathal nodded as he looked at the cottage, wondering what Sorcha was doing. “You’re probably right.”
“I know I’m right. Do you want to talk about your past?”
His head snapped to her as his brows drew together. “Fek no.”
“Then she won’t either. No one likes to talk about a past as dark and horrid as ours. I’ve got a sneaking suspicion hers is just as bad.”
“Fek me,” Cathal said as he turned away and walked a few paces before he stopped.
Aisling walked to him. “You told her what needed to be said.”
“I didn’t finish. As soon as I informed her she was a Halfling, she ordered me to leave. I told her I’d be around when she was ready to hear the rest.”
“The rest? Ah. You mean about the ritual. She does need to know about that.”